“Vern do you want to watch a movie?”
“Sure daddy.”
“What do you want to watch?”
“Sleepy Hollow or Wurthering Heights”
“No, no those aren’t movies. Let’s watch Patton.”
“I don’t like war movies.”
“That’s un-American.”
“I’m not. I thought you wanted to watch a movie with me?”
“I’m a war veteran. It’s my duty to watch these old movies.”
“Fine, how about I get you some popcorn, while you serve your country and watch your war movies.”
“Whatcha doing?”
“Shopping”
“Where?”
“On the computer”
“But you’re poor”
“Cyber-me is not.”
“Well how ya gonna pay?”
“I’m not”
“That’s stealing”
“No, cyber-me is putting things in her cart. She leaves it.”
“That’s wrong. What if they catch you and make you pay for all that stuff. You’re gonna be in trouble.”
“I won’t!”
“But they could punish you. You’re a cyber-thief.”
“No I’m not! Cyber-me is a hot, wealthy, spy. She can do anything.”
“What if they arrest you for being a cyber-thief?”
“In that case, the “real me” would be in real trouble. Cyber-me would still get away with it.”
You all have heard the same thing, “Be careful or someone’s going to poke their eye.”
Then there is the statement, “It’s all fun and games until someone pokes their eye out.”
Hmm, have you ever thought this could be true? Really can you poke someone’s eye when you are just having a good time? Truth is, yes. Sadly there are often eye injuries and losses due to playing around. A few days ago I was playing around and got my eye poked. No, it didn’t fall out. Yes, it f***ing hurt. Let me give you a play by play look into how this feels.
The moral to my story is: It is all fun and games until someone gets their eye poked.
I’m cooking dinner, talking to my family and texting. The steam from the boiling water starts making my hands sweat. I keep cooking. A new text comes. Phone still in my hand I slide my thumb to receive the text. The phone starts to wobble out of my dewy palm. My other hand on the spatula stirring the spaghetti sauce. I ignore my instincts. I am a mom. I cam multi task. Then I kind of lost balance. There it is. The phone begins to flip-up, dive and slowly plummet to the wood floor.Bam! Crack!
There on the kitchen floor lays my broken EVO. I was not mad or upset. Things happen. This is why you have insurance. I called Sprint. They gave me the number to the claims department. I called. After answering an automated message I was forwarded to an associate. I verified my answers. After paying the deductible the associate promised I would have my replacement phone by the next day. To my surprise I received the phone before noon. Amazing! Thanks Sprint for replacing my phone in less than 24 hours.
There are many ways to write. Some people are highly talented at editorials, creative writing, technical writings, poetry and letters. Letters may seem the least important form. Writing letters will not help you pass in your essays nor will they make you famous. Lately, I have found letters to be extremely important. I have a friend in rehab. In her attempt to complete the program I have pledged to write often. I have sent cute cards. Then there was a fuzzy card that was rejected because of the fuzz. Then there was another card not given to her because it had pictures on three sides. Really? Now, I am sending the value cards with a small image on the cover and blank on the inside.
The worst part of writing to rehab is knowing what to say. All mail coming and going is read by the staff. If they do not approve of something you say then it is not delivered. My last letter received from my friend consisted of repeated statements of “I have so much to tell you, but I can’t.”
My question is how do you communicate? I will continue to send mail, postcards and cards with the same vague statements. I just wish facilities would allow a little more flexibility with the 5 th Amendment.
“Whatcha doing?”
“Writing an essay?”
“Where’s the words?”
“They’re coming. I’m thinking.”
“But you said you had to write an essay, not think one.”
“I am.”
“Where? They’re not there.”
“Give me a break. In five minutes this page will be full.”
Five minutes later
“Whatcha doing?”
“Typing.”
“Is your essay done?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I can’t think of anything to write.”
“Here,” he hands her a chocolate mousse.
“What’s this?”
“I thought you might need help, so I brought you muse. It’s chocolate, your favorite.”
Change is inevitable. Everyday there are changes even if you don’t notice them. I exchanged small chat with a woman while my comforter was washing at the laundry mat. All that woman did was complain how her Facebook has changed. My response was my Facebook in my phone is the same. Then for the next half hour she specifically addressed how each item had changed. All I could think was how much this woman needed change. It was apparent that her life was relatively constant. Living life that way is ok, but could be disastrous if she is never prepared for change. Our environment is changing daily due to pollution, population growth, weather patterns and new diseases just to mention a few. My advice is to remain more flexible in our ever changing world. When possible take on new adventure, try new foods and meet new people. Life is forever changing and we should be too.
“Vern, I want to go to Fashion Night Out.”
“No”
“Come on!”
“Why? You’re an old man. Fashion is for the rich and young.”
“I’m a war veteran! I want to live life, not sit rotting.”
“Fine, next year we’ll go to the city for Fashion Night Out, but you’re paying for the gas, tolls and the tunnel.”
“No, no not in the city!”
“Daddy, that’s where Fashion Night Out is.”
“Paris, I want to go to Paris Fashion Night Out.”
“No! You’re losing your sanity old man.”
“Come on Vern! France was one of our Allies. I’ve not been out of the country since the war.”
“You were drafted into Vietnam, not WII.”
“War is war. I want to go to Paris.”
“Daddy, I can’t afford that. Plus where are you getting these ideas from.”
“My magazine, look see the pictures. There’s beautiful buildings, Louvre, Eiffel Tower, plus the girls wear miniskirts, leather, heels and the long hair.”
“That’s pervy daddy! That magazine is French. You don’t even speak French. Give up!”
“Vern just think about it. For once let’s take a trip out of the garden state. You deserve it sweetheart.”
“Daddy everyone deserves more than they are given, but this is my life. I go to work. Then I come home to take care of you.”
“Then take care of me in Paris!”
It was just a quarter after nine. The store just opened. There were only a random few housewives, retired couple and a college student. He thought it would be less busy, but he was wrong. He wore his Army physical fitness shirt with black shorts even though he was no longer in the military. He stepped inside the book store. He noticed her in the nook with her long tasselled blonde hair facing him. He sauntered over to her. She had her laptop open. Books were spread across the table.
“Looks like you’ve been here awhile.”
“I got here early. I waited in the car till the store opened.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m just busy with school, finding a job and my family.”
“Are you glad to see me?”
“Yes, of course.”
“I want you to come to my place.”
“But you just got here.”
“I know. I want to be alone with you, not here in this store.”
“I’m busy. I have lots to do.”
“You said that. It’s just since we got back from Afghanistan, I don’t want to be alone. I miss you.”
She nervously giggles. “We had some fun there.” Then she stops for a second. Looking at him with a serious expression she states, “I have lots to do. I can’t come with you.”
“Ok, if you can’t go to my place, I’ll sit here with you.”
“You’re going to hate me when I tell you this, but I can’t do it anymore. We are home now. It was different over there. Here, I have a family. I think I want to be faithful.”
He shakes his head. “No, I need you.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t have sex with you anymore. With all this crazy shit going on in my life, I can’t.” She nervously plays with her hair.
He reaches for her hand and strokes it with his fingers. “For now, if I have to wait, I will.”
“Vern what are you doing?”
“Daddy I’m sick.”
“So you are going to sit on the computer all day eating diet bars?”
“Yes, I think I will. I’m eating these darn bars because I’m craving chocolate.”
“You need to get your priorities straight. You should go to the gym.”
“Fine.” Vern put sweatpants on under her night shirt and slipped on her tennis shoes.”
“Where are you going?”
“The gym” she replied. Then she stepped out the front door. She arrived at the gym but it was closed. She drove to the other franchise location. It too was closed. Disappointed she drove to the grocery store. Inside she went down the candy aisle, snack aisle, ice cream aisle and dairy aisle. Back home she shuffled through the front door with her arms full of groceries.
“Vern I thought you were going to the gym.”
“So did I, it was closed. I went to the store. I bought chocolate mousse, chocolate candy, nuts, nuts with dried fruit, frozen yogurt, chocolate chip cookie dough and your favorite milk. I took your advice. I got my priorities straight.”
“With junk food?”
“Yes daddy, today my priority is chocolate.”
