%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |   Tales from real life |
| Well, if they're not true, they oughta be! |
| Birthday Bash Relay, day 9 poem, 18 lines, 'best or worst things about birthdays' Smile! Predictable birthday reprise, time-worn memories of parties past, dreams packed in mothballs. Smile, brittle facade of hope! Lest cracks of age betray despair; a bucket brigade of rue cannot fill the looming abyss. An artifice of patchwork paint simulates cheeky attitude; red, red lips express hollow birthday bonhomie. Floating faces rush by, well-meant wishes echoing in a dimming point of view. Vertigo swirls in the shadow. Guilty plea of exhaustion, escape through the cracks, predictable birthday reprise. author's note ▼ |
We're in the second day of our emergency water supply situation. It started on Saturday afternoon when the pressure dropped significantly. Then the water company trucks came and the pressure dropped to zero. Without warning. No chance to fill buckets, bottles, or pans.  It seems the main broke under a driveway at the end of the street. On a Saturday. Labor Day weekend. The water company did work all night Saturday, so they deserve credit for trying. However, they don't yet get credit for succeeding. Modern day fittings and gaskets don't quite fit the 1970's pipes, and they gave up on getting the leak sealed on Sunday morning. They have to source new/old fittings, or make an adapter, or who knows what?  Sunday afternoon was spent laying a bright blue fire hose up the street from a hydrant about a block away. A tangle of fittings on the end of the firehose splits into three different garden hoses. Each of these heads a different direction along the street. One of them goes to our neighbors house where it splits again at their outside faucet. That garden hose runs through the side yard to our house, and yep, splits again to run yet another garden hose to our other neighbor's house. Water is now running backwards into the house from our outside faucet. We got limited water pressure back in time for Sunday supper. Three houses being supplied by a single garden hose is tolerable, but annoying.  I know, these are first world problems. We still have relatively clean, pure water dribbling out of the taps. The 24 hours of no water made me think about all the people in the world who do without every day. I was surprised by how quickly, and by how much I missed the water. The worst part is not being able to flush toilets. Second worst is not being able to wash hands after not being able to flush. Fortunately, we do have a case of bottled water for emergencies. It goes quickly when used for washing as well as drinking.  The trucks are back today . . .  |
Here's a trinket for 2021:  |
| Birthday Bash Relay, day 3 short story, 625 words, 'forgotten birthday' Apocalypse Mild “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, . . .” “Daniel Angstrom, please return your attention to the vidscreen,” said the Structor in its firm, but friendly tone of minor correction. Danny recomposed his face into the attitude of earnest focus that his grandfather had taught him, and went on with his mental recitation. “. . . that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, . . .” It was difficult for the sixteen year-old to maintain an appearance of paying attention, but he enjoyed fooling the Structor almost as much as he enjoyed sharing secrets with his grandfather. Danny didn’t entirely understand why it was so important to maintain the oral history, but there was something about the words that fired his imagination and filled him with pride. “. . . That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, . . .” Danny had grown up in the comfort and safety of the Comity and had never known the effects of war, poverty, pestilence, or civil strife. His only knowledge of these evils came from his grandfather and the loose association of preservationists who had learned of such things from their grandfathers. Danny hadn’t been fully initiated into the group as yet, but he was looking forward to seeing the legendary paper book that held the words he’d been painfully memorizing. It was difficult to imagine data being frozen on physical pages that couldn’t be changed. Comity taught that data has no objective reality, that it exists only as a tool to serve the needs of the greater community. The civil harmony of Comity was ensured by celebrating a common heritage that led inevitably to the status quo. All citizens understood that it was only right and proper that history should change to reflect current events. And, with no permanent record of alternate choices, there was little incentive for the populace to seek social change. The way things are is the way they’ve always been, shrug. The preservationists disagreed, arguing that an objective reality must be acknowledged to make life meaningful. They held that freedom from choice was actually a kind of slavery. It seemed like a losing battle with the vidscreen showing only the fluid official version, but the oral histories managed to survive by being passed from person to person underground. Comity deliberately refused to recognize the preservationists as a group, damping any publicity by giving ‘restorative therapy’ to maladjusted individuals. Danny’s grandfather was an important member of the movement. His position as a senior vidscreen tech made it possible for them to circumvent the home security scans and conduct private meetings. Danny knew that there was real risk involved, and he felt proud to be trusted with the secret. If his grandfather was exposed, he’d not only be unemployable as a tech, but subject to therapy. No one who returned from therapy was quite the same afterward. It was important to get the full text memorized before next month’s meeting. Danny was expected to recite the whole document as part of his initiation, and he wanted to make his grandfather proud. He was puzzled, though, about why the July Fourth meeting was being held under the cover of a birthday party. Danny’s family had already celebrated his birthday last May. Oh well, there must be a good reason. “Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; . . .” “Daniel Angstrom, please return your attention to the vidscreen,” said the Structor in its firm, but less friendly tone of repeated correction. |
Here’s a bit of birthday related trivia . . . My wife’s grandparents shared a birthday, March 31st. They enjoyed the coincidence so much that they decided to get married on that same day. This also worked out for Bertha’s famed sense of frugality. She could get three celebrations for the price of one. Things got a little weird when their son, Edward, was born on March 31st. That increased the odds from 1 in 365 to something like one in a hundred thirty thousand. And, of course, the old folks prevailed upon Ed to also share their anniversary. Ed and Polly celebrated their nuptials on March 31st, and Bertha was up to five for one on party costs! Then it got really weird when Ed’s daughter, Debra, was born on March 31st. That upped the odds to an astronomical one in 48 million. When I asked this rare gem of a woman to wed, she revealed all of the above and described her family’s six-fold celebration each March. I asked if she would like to continue the tradition, and she replied: “ABSOLUTELY NOT!” I’m tired of sixth place," Debbie explained. "It’s even worse than being born on Christmas. I would like to have just one day to myself.” So, we will celebrate our 44th anniversary on June 10, 2022. |
| Well, let's start on a weird note . . . Last night I dreamt I was falling. Not an unusual type of nightmare, but this one was new to me. In it, I'm falling backward from a high bridge, looking up and very aware of the cold water below. Above me, also falling, I see some object that's shaped a bit like a Toucan beak. I don't know what it is, but I know that it's heavy and that it has a razor-sharp edge. As soon as I hit the water, the object, whatever it is, will catch up and slice me in half. I'm flailing and screaming as I splash down, and then my wife shakes me awake. I was gasping for breath, and my heart was pounding for several minutes afterward. It was the worst nightmare I've had in years. |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
