Join me at drawingXpressions where I not only write microfiction, I teach creative writing! (And I'm a Co-Founder!) dX, as we like to call it, is a wholistic collaborative where creatives support creatives.
Come join me there to read my (and others') work and maybe even take a class (it's offered both Live and OnDemand).
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SimpleMath Airlines, the airline focused on reducing airfares by packing the maximum number of passengers into the smallest amount of space through our patented Stack-N-Rack system, is proud to announce our latest program: vacuum packing passengers onto a Comfortable Cushion* prior to stacking and racking. We call it Pack-Stack-N-Rack.
We also provide complimentary catheterization on our longer routes through our Cat-Pack-Stack-N-Rack program**.
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*(Comfortable Cushion is our trademarked cushion system. Customer comfort is subjective and subject to change without notice.)
**Please arrive five hours early with a notarized medical release.
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A wrong turn onto a dusty track in northern Texas led me to a rickety shack. I stopped for directions and was met with a strange odour and an elderly disheveled gentleman who looked at me and asked, “What part you want?”
Not sure what he was referring to, I asked, “Part of what?”
“Buzzard”, was the reply.
Turns out, the shack is also a restaurant named The Whole Buzzard. The name’s accurate - it’s the only offering on the menu.
Taken aback, I asked for what I hoped was the least offensive item. “Drumstick”, I said.
In case you need reminding, I’m known far and wide as the Household Item Wrangler - someone who advocates for the proper care and treatment of what others see as common and ordinary household items.
In 2021, due to “creative differences” with this blog owner, I decided to do a bit of traveling and see the world. What I found was horrifying: due to Covid, there were warehouses full of disused and ignored household items, covered in dust, lying limp. Some had even gone feral.
My heart broke.
And so I opened a shelter to rehabilitate, and where possible re-home, these poor unfortunates. It was hard work, back-breaking at times, but rewarding to watch as truckload after truckload were adopted and put into proper service. Man, it is said, doesn’t live on bread alone, but on the results of loving efforts. On that basis alone, I ate like a king.
I’m happy to say that the last residents of the shelter found new homes just as this blog owner came crawling back to me a few days ago, begging me to be a part of a new creative team for something that’s being called drawingXpressions.com. They’re on Instagram now and will be getting a newsletter going soon - look for the link in an upcoming post.
At this point I guess it goes without saying that I decided to join the team (but did extract the concession that he’d help highlight the plight of other household items within this new endeavour).
It’s said that all things have their seasons — a time to sow and a time to reap, a time to brew coffee and a time to drink it, and all that.
It turns out there’s a season for writing stories daily. I know this because over the past little while I’ve been feeling that my season for creating them is coming to an end. The stories I used to look forward to formulating each and every day have become more of a chore, a duty to myself and my readers, both known and unknown. The fun is waning.
I considered ending my creative endeavour on an important date, such as the 3-year mark of starting my daily practice. But something I realized is that the most important date to end something, in this case at least, is the day it feels good and comfortable to let it go.
I didn’t write yesterday and the feeling of relief of not having to write allowed me to breathe — something I hadn’t realized I wasn’t doing until I stopped feeling like I had to write.
And so this is an announcement that I’ll no longer be writing and recording stories on a daily basis. I don’t anticipate recording them anymore, so that if and when I do write a story, it’ll be posted in Blogger and Medium.
Before I close this post completely, I do want to thank the readers and watchers who were part of this whole experience. It’s been quite a ride with support coming from unanticipated places: Blogger readers in France, Medium readers who flocked to Clyde, The Forgotten Reindeer, and the YouTube subscribers and viewers.
I would be remiss if I didn’t mention my Lovely Lady Love who always held the camera, laughed in the right places, and provided colour commentary. I couldn’t’ve done it without her.
And so, on behalf of myself and all the characters who’ve come to life, thanks for reading, for watching, but most of all, for making the stories a part of your day.
Dante, in his book Paradise Lost, describes nine levels of Hell, each with its own unique set of torments.
But he missed one.
It’s the level of despair one spouse experiences when the other insists they can fix the most vexing household problems and then watch repairs go horribly wrong.
In the modern era, this level is full of people feeling helpless watching their computers get restarted repeatedly while various combinations of buttons are pushed. And impotent pleas made to uncaring gods.
Not that my long-suffering wife is there now, muttering how $20 could have prevented this situation.
Nope.
*****
(Author's Note - It wasn't until after I wrote this - and because I was so tired from dealing with my non-existent computer problem that I didn't bother to make sure I got it right - that I realized I confused Milton's Paradise Lost and Dante's Inferno. I think it's funny so I left it...)
Sperry Messblender’s time at NASA was notable for his ability to generate tremendously bad ideas.
He started with the design team for a new Mars rover. Sperry thought “it’d be cool” to incorporate a paintball gun and 200 rounds of ammunition because “it’ll help the little robotic dude blow off some steam”.
He then moved to logistics for the International Space Station where he insisted that a meal of sloppy joes in zero gravity merited consideration.
Currently, he’s paid to stay at home, generate ideas, and submit them to a Minnesota PO Box address. Which also serves as a landfill.
‘I come before you as a loyal customer, having frequented this establishment at least once before. And knowing the Law states that The Customer, meaning me, Is Always Right, I therefore make the following demands:
That you abstain from deep breaths, eye rolls, and other physical signs of judgement as I make my subsequent demands!
The same is true for critical language, including sarcasm!
You will promptly and expediently prepare my order in the way and manner to be described!
That you not interrupt me…’
‘Sorry, I have to say this — Welcome to McDonald’s, may I take your order please?’
‘Welcome back to Matt Varley’s Hit Parade. I’m Matt Varley and I’m so excited to present a new punk band, Rabid Pug, to the world. Let me read an excerpt of the lyrics to what I anticipate will be their big hit, “Cat Nap”:
See there kitty on the rug
Curl up near for a furry hug
Stroke the fur
Hear the purr
Put a smile on the grumpy mug
Incredible, right? Pure poetry.
Coming up later in the show is a new tribute band covering all the hits of an old tribute band covering The Rolling Stones. Stay tuned!
“Hey! Hey! Hey you! What you in for? You crap on the rug?”
“Nooo…”
“Hey! Hey! You’re a pug, yeah? You pugnacious?”
“Whaaaa?”
Another voice further down the room barked out “Leave ’em be Frenchie. Sorry about Frenchie there pup. He’s here for eating an encyclopedia.”
Frenchie kept up. “Hey! Hey! You’re a pugilist, yeah?”
Another voice came from further down the room. “He clearly ain’t, Frenchie. But I am. Knock it off or when we’re off leash tomorrow I’ll be looking for ya. Got it?”
“I am the master of my life. I’m successful. I’m smart. People like me. And no matter what happens, nothing will have changed about who I am.”
Jerry’s face in the bathroom mirror looked unconvinced.
The problem was that this pep talk hadn’t occurred before he’d arrived at the restaurant. Another was that his blind date, Cheryl… was that her name?… was waiting. The last was that the soup had arrived and he’d panicked.
It was entirely possible he’d capture any inadvertent spills with his napkin, but wouldn’t that be kinda gross.
