The Sunday Scribblings’ prompt this week is “solace”. I could write something romantic about the ocean or southern summer nights providing solace, but that would not be entirely true. I do not take solace from religion, as so many do. I take solace from food. This may seem innocent enough, but food addiction is just as deadly as heroin. It would probably be all right if I was comforted by celery or sprouts, but unfortunately, I am soothed by only the most unhealthy of foods. As a doctor once said, “if it tastes good, spit it out.”
I love pasta, and my favorite is the most deadly of all, spaghetti carbonara. For those unfamiliar, it is basically pasta loaded with bacon, eggs, and cheese.
I am particularly fond of grilling a good steak,
fried foods,
and shellfish dipped in butter.
I love dessert.
If someone addicted to crack is a crack head, I am a grub head.
The problem, other than the obvious blocking of my arteries, is that the comfort is short-lived. I am depressed so I eat, then I am dejected because I eat.
I was going to write more, but I made myself hungry.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Sunday Scribblings - Solace - 7/27/08
Friday, July 18, 2008
55 Flash Fiction Friday - Ladies Man - 7/18/08
I hadn't written one of these in a while. The challenge here is to tell a story using only 55 words. Try it. It is not as easy as it sounds. This one is about a guy we all know.
The club was emptying. Women that caught his eye were paired with someone. As the cliché promised, his hesitation had caused him to lose. Even through beer goggles, she was substandard, but, any port in a storm. He approached her confidently. “How would you like to dance?” She sized him up, “No thanks” she sneered.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Sunday Scribblings - My Oldest Friend - 7/13/08
When I read this week's prompt, "My Oldest Friend," it was the easiest prompt to respond to in the year or so that I have been writing Sunday Scribblings. Only one name came to mind. His name is Marc Dorendorf. We met in the seventh grade in 1964. We maintained our friendship throughout high school, playing sports together. I am number 44 and Marc is number 20. Our coach looked extremely drunk and thinking back I wouldn't blame him. We were better at baseball.
His mom and dad became my surrogate parents. I spent a lot of time as a welcome guest in their home. We would hang out at his place after baseball practice, gorging ourselves with Velveeta and ham sandwiches in his basement rec room.
After high school, we both attending the University of Idaho for a year. We both left school and went to work at the lead smelter of the Bunker Hill Company until we got our draft notices early in 1972. I married in June before departing for the Air Force in August. Marc was a groomsman in my wedding. My son Josh's middle name is Marc.
Marc elected to go into the Army for the minimum 2 years. He was spared Vietnam and spent his enlistment in Germany. I, on the other hand, spent 20 years in the Air Force. My experiences and family have been documented in previous posts. Marc met his future wife, Debbie, in Paris during his Army tour in Europe. After discharge, he returned to the University of Idaho and using his veteran's educational benefits, earned an accounting degree. He has a very successful CPA firm in Spokane, Washington. He and Debbie raised two great daughters.
Through the years, no matter where I was stationed, I received a family photo Christmas card and a newsletter. I followed his life and the growth of his family through snapshots in time. I have included some of those snapshots here. I have always carried them with me. They are not in perfect order due to my lack of computer skills, but they still chart the growth of his daughters and acquisition of a son-in-law, soon to be two. They have a beautiful home on a hill south of Spokane which, as you can see, has been home to several domestic animals. It is also been a refuge for countless deer through the years.
As you can see, through the years Marc's hair has advanced from black, through grey, to a shade of blue usually reserved for residents of Del Boca Vista, Florida (obscure Seinfeld reference).
We never completely lost touch and on my rare visits back to the Pacific Northwest, we always get together.
This week, Marc informed me of the passing of his dad, Marvin, two days before his 81st birthday. He died on July 5th in the presence of his loving family.
Above are his 1945 Kellogg High School graduation photo (I see a little Jerry Lee Lewis happening there) and a photo as he looked the last time I saw him. I am not as sad as I am happy to have known him. He had a great run.
The memories that news brought up to me made the timing of this prompt perfect. Spending 20 years as a nomad in the military does not lend itself to establishing and maintaining long-term friendships. I greatly value this one. I have other friends that I have known longer but as you will see, we never lost touch.
Thursday Thirteen - 13 Jobs illegal Aliens Will Not Take From You - 7/10/08
A lot of people are concerned about illegal Immigrants taking jobs away from American citizens. The following is a partial list of occupations that are not threatened by the influx from Mexico. For job security, I recommend training in one of these professions:
1) Air Traffic Controller
2) Rocket Scientist
3) Brain Surgeon
4) Professional Basketball Player
5) Pharmacist
6) CEO of Microsoft
7) Airline Pilot
8) Actuary
9) Certified Public Accountant
10) Nuclear Physicist
11) Judge
12) Investment Banker
13) Professor of English Lit
Postscript: If your job can be taken away by someone who doesn't speak English, you have a shitty job.