Some experts say that the safest place to be in an earthquake is in a heavily-braced doorframe or in your bathtub.
I disagree.
I prefer to be passed out on my bed, completely oblivious to shit going on all around me.
That way, if I wake up, I’ll wake up to an even worse of a wreck of an apartment with a hangover and wonder if I did all that before passing out.
This is why I drink myself into a stupor every night… it’s disaster planning and preparation.
And, from the looks of things, my plan’s a total success.
Category: My stories
The Zoo Train
One of my earliest memories was when mom and dad would take me to the zoo, where we’d ride the train.
I think my grandfather was there. I’m not sure. I don’t remember much of him.
Every few years, we’d meet together at the zoo, looking at all the changes to exhibits, new animals, cages replaced with glass walls or open roaming areas.
The train gets polished up, repainted.
We took my kids there. We’d ride, look around. So many changes, so many things stay the same.
The monkeys, the giraffes, the lions.
The memories, as we all ride on.
The Third Ghost
The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come never said anything to Scrooge.
Just did a lot of pointing and menacing.
Thank God that plan worked.
Why? Well, you remember that Mike Tyson guy?
Yeah, the boxer who bit off that other boxer’s ear and went to jail.
Remember his squeaky boyish voice?
The Ghost has the same problem.
Instead of a scary rasp or thundering growl, he talks in a high squeaky voice like a midget having his balls squeezed.
What? When have I heard a midget with his balls squeezed?
Um, ask The Ghost Of Christmases We’d Rather Forget.
Sand
“Nothing is permanent,” says the priestess.
“We only write our names in sand,” chants the crowd following her to the beach.
Young men gather sticks and write their names in the wet sand.
Then, they lay in small pits and bury each other up to their necks.
The priestess helps with the last man, and they wait for the tide to come in.
The waves get closer… closer… soaking the mens’ faces… some burst up from the sand and flee.
One more to go… and… did he drown?
No! He rises and stands!
Bow down, for he is your chief!
Testimony
Afraid.
Humiliated.
Bleeding.
No more!
Tablet after tablet, Cain marked every detail of Abel’s constant harassment, ridicule, cruelty, and torture.
And the abuse.. The awful touching… He felt disgusted, swam in the river until the wretched feeling passed, and then went back to the tablets with renewed fury.
When Cain was finished, he stacked the tablets and sought out his brother.
Many years later, Seth showed the tablets to Father Adam.
Adam wept, thought of his two lost sons, and smashed the tablets.
He then looked at Seth.
Would he stay silent?
Seth swore to, so Adam let him live.
Three Laws
Years ago, when I was working at local TV station, we installed robotic camera pedestals.
Over the course of several months, these cameras rammed into various people, causing them injury.
Then they failed to get out of the way, injuring people walking into them.
They regularly went out of control, and then rammed into people.
And failed to “ped down” passing between studios, hitting door jambs. And then, when someone approached the camera, it would “ped down” and clonk them on the head.
I added a quick set of warning labels: “WARNING: THESE ROBOTIC CAMERAS ARE NOT THREE LAWS COMPLIANT.”
Last Call
Joe’s retirement “party” is at the corner bar.
Years of experience catching serial killers, gone to budget cuts.
It was either retire or get fired.
Everybody’s here. Even the goddamned beancounters.
“There was one I never caught,” says Joe. “The Lifetime Supply Killer.”
I remember that case. Guy would send his victims a box of poisoned chocolate bars, telling them they won a lifetime supply of chocolate.
“Kinda funny, really,” said Joe.
The Director calls for a toast. We raise our glasses.
Joe stops me. “It’s a lifetime supply of champagne,” he whispers.
“To Joe!” everyone says.
And he drinks.
Pagan
A stranger among us?
We board our canoes and row out to The Island of The Great Statue.
She is The Goddess Of The Golden Door, and she watches over we survivors of The Last War.
Her book, brand, and crown held high above us all.
“Look upon her, stranger!” we say. “Pray she accepts you!”
Once ashore, we drag him to the altar and sing:
“O, Lady Colossus, lift your lamp, and accept this wretched refuse to your Golden Door!”
Then, the Judge thrusts his knife into the stranger’s heart.
We board the canoes again, and row for home.
Unlike Johnny
Unlike Johnny Appleseed, Louie Landmine was a real prick.
He went around the countryside, planting landmines.
Every so often, you’d hear an explosion. Another victim of Louie’s vile project.
Prick.
Whenever Louie got arrested, he managed to make bail.
Or, if the judge didn’t allow for bail, his attorney would win the case.
“Where’s your evidence?” he said. “Were there any witnesses? Anything to match his fingerprints to left?”
The jury would usually end up hung, or find him not guilty.
Until the court managed to find twelve of his victims to pack a jury.
They shot him at dawn.
Schrödinger’s Beans
Some people like chili with beans, and others like it without.
Sure, you can make a pot of each, but there’s a more elegant one-pot solution.
When he wasn’t in the lab working on quantum physics, Erwin Schrödinger was in the kitchen, cooking for friends, family, and coworkers.
When he made chili, he ran into the same bean problem. Fussy eaters whining about beans or no beans.
So, just for them, he made a special pot of chili.
They didn’t know if it had beans until they got agonizing cramps.
“Serves you right!” he’d shout. “You’re fussier than my cat!”