Melancholic Musings

I’ve commented on other posts. Can’t seem to get going with post ideas of my own. What’s significant about that? Probably nothing.  For the record, there were nineteen previous posts about writer’s block on this site.

When writer’s block strikes, getting upset about it is the wrong approach. Read about an automobile salesman that lost his job. Not that I’ve ever had a soft spot in my heart for car dealerships or car sales persons.

What was important, was that this gentleman, reinvented himself and is now doing better than ever. He is a “car concierge.” Works independently with clients to meet their automotive needs–all makes, all brands. He does all the paperwork and negotiations.

I don’t like to see anyone lose their job. I’ve been fired from a job once. It was done the typical way. I had the option, “quit or be fired.” They were shrewd, waited till late afternoon. It turned out best for all concerned. I soon had a better job, with better benefits and pay. Worked there until I retired.

One Of Those Days

Have you ever had a day when good intentions went bad in spite of your best efforts?

This has been one of those days.  To prevent victimization by negativity, I’m taking the rest of the day off.

Even news coming from my workshop radio sucked.  Another errant motorist plowed into a local Mardi Gras parade this morning.  Thoughts go to the victims.  Sorry to think it–but, what the heck is going on with this stuff?

 

Buyer’s Remorse?

Media generated hype

Wasn’t worth it

Don’t be afraid

Throw some shade

Said by someone

Stuck in a revolving door

All America needed

Was another fake

Colonel Sanders

Delicious–malicious?

Everybody was motivated

By something–be it

Financial, political

Or something else

Can We Talk?

Isn’t it strange

That most of the time

Can we talk?

Really means

You’re wrong

I’m right

Let me

Show you

The ways

GIVE ME SOMETHING

You adore the crowds
You’d rather be alone
Once, they’re here–you
Wish, they were gone

Give me something
With some meat to it
With more skewers
Than a backyard barbecue

Something for me
Something for you
Give me something
I can hold on to

STOP PICKING ON PLUTO–PULEEZE!

Plucked from the solar system
Straight to the trash bin
Why cast more dispersions?
Stop picking on Pluto!
Why can’t we leave
Well enough alone?

Who are we, to throw more stones?
Why plunder this planetary pipsqueak
When it’s down on its luck?
Planets beyond Pluto?
Is it true? Who knew?
Pardon me–if I’m not awe struck

INN: MINUTE NEWSBIT

“FU-EE-2-UU,” Mr. Charles Sandwyche said to the Lynnwood, NJ DMV, when his request for a specific vanity license plate inscription was denied.  “I was totally shocked–because it wasn’t obscene or anything.  It’s a violation of free speech–if you ask me.  They offered me “KA-BLU–EE,” “NUTZ-2-YW”, “EE-I-I-OU,” and “QAA-POWE” as alternatives.  Those weren’t anywhere near what I wanted.  So, I guess I’ll mope along with random letters and numbers.

“We try to give registrants what they want when we can, said Robyn Batson, Secretary of NJ Department of Vehicle Registrations.  We thought “FU-EE-2-UU” could potentially incite someone to violence.  Especially with the amount of road rage incidents these days.  Don’t get me wrong–I’m not putting any of that on Mr. Sandwyche.  I’m sorry Mr. Sandwyche was disappointed.  There were many viable and creative alternatives available. One of my favorites ones is “DT-DU-DOG-DU”–it’s humorous, and a public service message at the same time.  So far, there’s been no takers.

*****************

1-19-15, Lantz Walters, “Minute Newsbit”–Imaginary News Network©

YOU SAY GOODBYE…

Some would say it’s a milestone–reaching the 4000 follower plateau. I appreciate those, faithfully following this iterantneerdowell’s creaky, Conestoga, word wagon, down the dusty trail.   My efforts are just a drop in the bucket, compared to some bloggers. I’m not running a race; only trying to have some fun–writing and interacting with other like-minded bloggers.

Trying to hurt someone’s feeling in the process, is the farthest thing from my mind. And, at the same time–I shouldn’t have to feel like I’m walking on eggshells, for fear of offending someone. Normally I write, rewrite, revise, rewrite again–it’s an OCD thing. But, anyway, this is what’s on my mind this morning. BTW–what would a greeting card, or a termination letter for a blogger asked to leave WP, look like?   I know, it’s not funny–nor, did I intend it to be.

I’m not acquainted with those in question, or know the circumstances, but I wish them well.  Please, make this stop, before I break out in song. let’s see–I could do “Feelings,”  “Alone Again, Naturally,”  “All by Myself,” wait, here’s a good one; “One is the Loneliest Number.”  Please make up your minds–because, I’m retired and, do have other things to do–like going fishing, or playing tunes on my trusty guitar.

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You say goodbye, I say hello
Is there anybody out there?
Where did everybody go?
Maybe their tongues are frozen?
Because it’s thirty-three below?
Maybe there’s nothing new to say?
Or they don’t know what to do?
And I know, that’s not true!

######################

WHEN THE PAIN CAME

Vengeance
In the name
Of the God
Of Abraham
In one, fatal
Final step

Power seized
For the moment
Pain caused
For someone else
Perceived, as
Less than human

Only mankind
Can be such
A beast–to
Kill, those
Disagreed with

An impossible
Task, tried
Many times
Before, by
Despots, dictators
The desperate

Hard to imagine
It happening
Again, in the
Twenty-first
Century

Seize the
Moment, while
We still can
Because the
Pain kills
More every day

AMERICAN BEAUTY

A clap of thunder
The family dog
Hid under the stairs
Among canning jars
Bags and boxes
Excuse the mess
We just moved
Marta greeted
At the door
Whatever was there
Was all she had
Mere little white lies
Ignored, because they
Didn’t matter that much
So what if they’d moved
Three years before?

Fate had not been kind
She straightened clutter
Just enough, to keep
From losing her mind

Nobody cared, that
Her piercing blue eyes
No longer had anything
To offer, other than
Reflected sadness, despair
Echoed in lines, wrinkles
Graying unkempt hair
Marta gazed at the stars
Through broken windows
And an overgrown lawn
Full of broken down cars
Waited for her
Hard-drinking husband
To stumble home
Sometime before dawn

Fate had not been kind
She straightened clutter
Just enough to keep
From losing her mind