Tag: short story

Happy Birthday to My Oldest Son…

On By Jerry BrothertonIn Non Fiction, Short Stories17 Comments

Joshua – 1977…
You probably don’t remember that day. Even for me it now seems like it was another universe. It was your first birthday. We called Fort Ord California home and, as it was with most Army families, we were as penniless as the winos down along the banks of the Salinas River. Your mother baked you a chocolate cake from a .29 cent box mix and decorated it with some homemade icing. We stripped you down to your diaper and sat you in your highchair while we sang birthday songs to you. You laughed as you crumbled your cake into oblivion.

Still in the Army

On By Jerry BrothertonIn Non Fiction, Short Stories6 Comments

Dressed in denim jackets and bell bottom jeans with colorful patches sewn over holes that never existed, we tried to be normal 1970’s youth. We listened to Neil Young, Cat Stevens, Eagles, America and Pink Floyd. Our attempt to be non-conformists only managed to create more conformity. And short military haircuts can’t be disguised in a world where the length of your hair is a status symbol. No matter how hard we pretended to be friends, it was still just a stranger that passed the hash pipe back across the table. We’d take a hit and dream we were home.

If Only I Could be Young Again

On By Jerry BrothertonIn Non Fiction, Short Stories11 Comments


My parents used to tell me that someday I’d wish to be a child again. I thought they were a bit senile. Who would want to live a life with no TV, cell phone or Facebook again? Who wants to fish in clean water, breathe unpolluted air, or play in the middle of the street without harm? Who needs to sleep through a quiet night and wake up refreshed? Who needs simplicity, friends …family? Why would I want to hug my father and mother or tell my brothers and sisters I love them?
“Not me,” said the ignorance of youth.

Show, Don’t Tell…

On By Jerry BrothertonIn Non Fiction, Short Stories15 Comments

I’m interested in one thing, telling a story. If I wanted to show you a story, I’d take up painting. I write for me and I know what I like. I don’t write for some professor, sitting in a stuffy office, scowling at my lack of proper style. So yes, I’ll start a sentence with a conjunction, use a comma when it should be a semicolon, and use nouns as verbs. It only matters that I like it. If you like it, share it. If you don’t, that’s ok with…who am I trying to kid…please, please, please like it too.

Play it Again Sam

On By Jerry BrothertonIn Non Fiction, Short Stories19 Comments

Music’s always been part of my coping mechanism in life. My family could tell my mood by the songs I played. If I’d had a good day, you would hear Simon and Garfunkel, Steely Dan, Jethro Tull or The Beatles coming out from under the door. A more melancholy me would sit in the dark and listen to Pink Floyd, Jackson Browne, America or the Eagles.
One night my son wanted to borrow the car. I heard my wife tell him, “You better not go in there son, he’s playing Cat Stevens. My son called his friend for a ride.