Mike and Henry

Mikey and ‘River Rat’ had been friends since 3rd grade. From grade school through high school they had shared everything. You hardly ever saw one without the other being too far away. But after graduation, Mikey went off to college while ‘River Rat’ moved on to do life’s little things just to try to keep from starving. ‘River Rat’ didn’t dig the college scene because, in his words, “I just can’t understand the need to go into debt for the rest of my life to get a little piece of paper with some snooty guy’s signature on it. Just to proclaim me smarter than someone else.” But in truth, Mikey knew that it was because ‘River Rat was more in tune with a bottle of beer than he was with books.

A year later, ‘River Rat’ was requested to join the Army. By the luck of the draw, he missed Vietnam and ended up in Germany for a couple of years before coming back home. In the Army, ‘River Rat’ became Specialist Henry Bowman and had learned how to stay out of people’s way. He also learned that it was a pretty small leap from beer to whisky and even a shorter step to drugs.

As his youth faded away, he eventually got a job as the maintenance man for the local cemetery where he grew marijuana in the woods behind the back wall. His name changed to just Henry and then Mr. Bowman as, over the course of the next few years, he faded into the everyday life of another rural Midwesterner.

Mikey went on to graduate college at the top of his class and moved on to Law School where he became Michael Schmidt. He ended up in Kansas City where he worked hard to become a partner in the law firm Lindsey, Graves, Schmidt and Leland. He married a model from the city and when he did visit home, she sat beside him in his Porsche 911 as he paraded her through town like some trophy he’d won at the carnival.

Over the years, Michael and Henry drifted so far apart that they no longer recognized each other if they should happen to pass on the street.

One day, the police got a call about the smell coming from the apartment. When they busted down the door, the groceries were still sitting on the kitchen counter. A gallon of milk, a loaf of bread, a box of aspirins and a 12 roll pack of Charmin. A note beside them read, “Don’t try to find me.” They found a box knife in the bathroom next to the body. They never found his wife.

‘River Rat’, his wife and their three children were the only people to show up at Mike’s funeral.

Got a Minute?

Got a minute
We need to talk
I was at the doctor
Lump
Biopsy
Malignant
Don’t cry
Too early to tell
I’m scared
Take care of them
I love you
Goodbye

Happy Mother’s Day Moms

I’ve said this a thousand times and still I can never say it enough. Being a mother is the hardest and most thankless job there is and yet they do it for free.

In my mother’s eyes, “the needs of the family would always outweigh the needs of the one.” After all the bills were paid, the groceries bought and safely stored away in their larders, you might see her in the store, eyeing that new dress, or new pair of shoes or whatever items that she would have like to have. She would even go so far as to pick it up, turn it over in her hands and possibly even put it in her cart. But by the time she left the store, it would still be setting on the shelf. Because, in her words she could get by with what she had. Besides, one of the kids might need something between now and next payday.

I think that most mothers are pretty much the same. So this is why we have a special day set aside just for them. So pick up the phone, give them a call. They don’t want fancy presents or flowers. They just want you to tell them you love them.

Trust me one day you’ll wake up and find that there’s no phones in heaven.

 

My First Funeral

 

I wondered why people felt the need to express their opinions about his appearance. They strolled by the casket like they were out shopping the fresh produce isle at the market. I watched as a few gathered the bravado to touch a hand; some patted his chest and one old women, I had no idea who, even place a kiss on his forehead.

 “Doesn’t he look nice?” “He looks so peaceful.” “He looks so natural.” “Well, at least he’s in a better place.”

When my turn to peek over the side came, my excitement faded.

Uncle Elmer just looked dead.

They Sold Your Soul

They Sold Your Soul

There is a place that exists
Between Hell and Heaven
And we’re doing a tightrope balancing act
On the center rail of humanity

America I pledge allegiance but I can’t tell anymore which country you are
I’ve asked the questions  but never get a straight answer
There are times when I can feel the sun shining on my back
But it  quickly fades back to hate and blame

When did life get so damned hard
When did the answers to the questions become more questions
When did the light at the end of the tunnel
Turn out to be a street lamp on the corner of Lies and Mistrust

They all run around screaming silence at each other
Each one wanting to know why the other can’t understand the lie
When it’s as plain as the  pimple in the ass crack of their insanity
It itches but they won’t scratch it for fear we’ll smell the shit on their hands

So somebody please tell me where did the innocent children go
I know they were here just a few minutes ago
I heard them laughing and playing out on the lawn
But when I turned back to look they were suddenly gone

They’re in the bathroom with a razor slash across their wrists
Because they know the big white house on top of the hill
Is just a meeting place for the worlds auctioneers
And what is for sale and who is in line to buy it