Toffee

I was at a local toffee shoppe the other day tempting my sweet tooth while I waited for my shoes to be cleaned at the cobblers. After surveying all the various kinds this shoppe had to offer I chose one and attempted to tell the toffee maker that I was ready to make a purchase, but he was inattentive to my presence.

I initially made a little wave in his direction to indicate I was ready for him to serve me, but this was useless as he was too concerned with his own world to notice that there was an important customer to attend to. Next I vocalized my displeasure, "Excuse me sir or madam, but I would like to purchase this golden toffee over here!" This actually got an acknowledgment from the oafish individual working the counter; he slightly turned my way, held up his index finger and went back about his business. This displeased me even more, as I do not have the time nor the patience for these types of shenanigans, especially when they come from an inept social outcast whose only joy in life comes from making very busy people be kept waiting while he does nothing of any importance.

I had had enough of him at this point and began to pound on the glass counter, "Excuse me, boy! Douglas is ready to purchase toffee post haste! While you dawdle about thinking of trinkets you will purchase with the tuppence you may earn by the end of the week I am being kept from attending to very important matters and people. I command of you to be courtly enough to momentarily pause what you are doing and ring up my toffee so I can finally be on my way!"

Finally I had gotten this dodo's attention and an actual verbal reply, "I would get to helping you a lot sooner sir, if you would let me finish the current transaction with the woman in front of you." He then turned back to the woman and continued to ignore the fact that I could be on my way if he would get my toffee now. But I wasn't going to let an event like this ruin my casual day about the town, so I left the toffee shoppe knowing the dolt and this louse of a woman would feel shame for how callously they treated me.

Lesson learned; at a low class haberdashery you are likely to be treated with the same insolence on your fifteenth visit as you received on your first.

 

Sea Ferry 1

I apologize for my lack of posts as of late, but I have been so focused on writing my novel, that by the time I am finished conjuring the muse, I am just too mentally and physically spent to write any further.

So as a reward to my loyal readership I will be serializing finished pieces of my current work, Sea Ferry on my blog. Enjoy the first installment.


The sea sprayed it’s essence in the face of Bruce. He moved from the side of the boat, wiped away the stinging salt water from his brow and yelled to the crow’s nest,

“How see you?”

“White caps abundant. Sire, the aft mast must steer us not away from the light.” Raphael’s judgment was not be trusted in matters where eyesight was crucial; he had no left eye. This had caused numerous mishaps during the four months since they commandeered The Scurvy Servant. Which was an antiquity made of wooden sides and cloth sails that had been captained by a crew of maritime re-enactors. That is until they were thrown overboard in the Boston Harbor amongst boxes of tea bags and sheets of postage stamps, and made to watch as it’s new crew set course for the Atlantic Ocean.

“Aye, three sheets to the wind, in good time. Steady as she goes with the crow.” With this command, which he hoped meant to keep the ship sailing on it’s current path, he made his way to the kitchen to speak with Cookie, his grandfather, who before agreeing to find a new life on the sea, had been the owner a junk/antique yard. Cookie was adamant in seizing The Scurvy Servant,

“It’s age will provide us with the inspiration needed for such a voyage, and this vessel is sea-worthy like none other of it’s era.”

No one knew any better, and Cookie’s eyes said it all.

They immediately boarded with the next tourist group and just as the three hour tour was set to commence, Bruce, Raphael, Cookie, and Barry Bonds brandished their cutlasses to the surrounding varmint. All were made to get off, women and children mostly by the way they entered, but all trouble-makers – lad or lass - were forced to walk the plank. And with this, the new crew of The Scurvy Servant set their sights onto the future, onto the sky, and their lives from there on out and what it may hold for them.

Coffehouse Bi-cycling

I hope everyone had a chance to read the Star Tribune today, because today in the source section not only was my beloved bi-cycle featured prominently above the fold, but they also spoke of something called coffeehouse bi-cycling.

This is an activity that has increased in recent years as people realize that the stress and pollution inherent in automobile usage is not what intelligent citizens should inflict upon society. Nevermind the cumbersome and futile nature of such vehicles. So, in response there has been an uprising of those who have begun coffeehouse bi-cycling, not only as a mode of transportation, but as a philosophy for life.

Selected masses have begun seeing the pressure corporate suits force upon themselves and the consuming public, and have said, "no more." They have ceased worshipping at the alter of the greenback and big oil; stopped supersizing; and overcome the willfully ignorant attitude that has seeped into society by way of the television.

Instead, they have sought a lifestyle that is not centralized on making money from fooling others, but on the pursuit of the scholarly, cultured, and aesthetic aspects of life. They do this while discussing the days events in a locally owned coffeehouse (hence the name), while pondering the course of life under the sanctimonious shade of a resiliant oak tree in one of this city's fine publicly-funded parks, or when conversing about how best to improve life for others and in turn everyone through the use of taxes.

However this lifestyle is lead, it is a lifestyle of function. A lifestyle of devotion. A lifestyle that at the day's end will have shown a contribution to society. And unlike the fruitless and shallow efforts of those dealing in stock and finance, it is a lifestyle that can and will produce a progressive and forward-looking society, not lead to it's downfall.

Farewell Saddam

I am no fan of tyrants nor dictators, that is why I refuse to support the Bush regime. But, I am apalled at the huzzahs and cheers being echoed about in response to former president Saddam Hussein's death. He may not have been the kindest person in the world, but he was a man nonetheless. So, it was refreshing to see a neutral and deserved rememberance. It is thought provoking to say the least.

The Season's Soliloquy

Christmas, the abdication
of decorum,
arrives with a flirtation;
not of wisdom
once told
or freedom
bought and sold.

Loneliness, death
and squallor
are the true breath
of christmas' dollar.

harangue those with the least.
"Give more!"
says the priest.

wrapping in the landfill,
toys tossed aside,
mother weaps; credit bill,
glad Jesus took that ride?

The Ignorance of Inconvenience

"I don't mind some people being inconvenienced, if it means being safe."

I have heard this sentiment many times since 9/11, but it had subsided somewhat recently. Most right-wing talk had refocused on the illegal war in Iraq. However, the incident of the imams being deplaned and detained here in Minneapolis a few weeks ago brought about a resurgence of this idiotic and simplistic rhetoric.

The interesting thing about this statement isn't that it is said, or even that it is said often - people in this country say and do dumb things with regularity - but it is who says it that is worth note.

It is never an African-American saying this. It is never a Japanese-American saying this. It is never a Muslim saying that he doesn't mind being pulled off of a plane so he is late for his appointment, meeting, or even the simple act of returning home. It is none of these people who have all been inconvenienced, to be extremely liberal with the term, by this country's government already.

It is white americans who say this. Specifically, upper-middle class white americans. And even more specifically, upper-middle class white women. The same people who demand to speak with a manager when they are delayed for ten seconds, because their double-Big Mac and large fries with a side mayonaise isn't ready for them to shovel into their mouths the minute they pull up to the second window at Mcdonalds, suddenly wouldn't mind a random delay of minutes or even hours.

It is these people, who have not been inconvenienced a moment in their lives, that are so quick to question the uproar caused by anothers forced removal. If they have nothing to hide why should they complain? They can just take the next flight. These are the pathetic justifications put forth, the justifications of a simpleton. But if it is such a non-issue, why don't you and your three snot-nosed polo-wearing kids - Tyler, Tanner, and Tiffany - take the next flight? Why don't you delay your plans by four to five hours? Rememeber, it is "no big deal."

Another point that should brought up: Why did those Japanese complain so damned much about getting to go to summer camp during WWII? Why did those blacks complain so much about being slaves? They recieved free housing, free food, free clothing, and what was asked in return? Just to put in a hard days work. Neither situation seems like such a raw deal to me.

However, herein lies the rub. It is never the oppressed class that see the taking away of rights as a light-hearted matter. It is only those not effected that can view such heinous acts with such constrained glee. It is the knowledge that they will never be subjected to the policies they so fervently support which allows them to so easily rationalize the implementation of actions that have such ugly repercussions.

Attack Ad 2

This is not the exact ad I was speaking of before, that one was a radio spot. But this seems like it was made by the same people, and is just as utterly disgusting.