Magical Night

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Another Wednesday evening, and I’m out in the garage.
In the moonlight, everything looks magical.
Even this ordinary screwdriver looks magical.
So, I wave it like a magic wand and say ABRACADABRA!
Nothing happens.
Not that I expected anything to happen.
After all, stage magicians tend to use those black rods with white tips… or they use twisted wooden sticks as magic wands.
You never see a stage magician pull out a Craftsman Phillips-head and pull a rabbit out of his Caterpillar ball cap.
I snap my fingers and the screwdriver disappears.
Oh, don’t applaud – I really needed a flathead.

War

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Let’s have a war.
We’ll draw maps and set borders.
We’ll make flags and compose anthems.
We’ll dress our friends in uniforms and march them around in parades.
Then we’ll tell them to fight each other. Fight to win!
Some will die.
Others will survive their wounds. We’ll give them medals.
Many will be hurt in ways nobody can see. We’ll ignore them.
Then we’ll end the war and make peace.
We’ll be friends again, working together in harmony.
It’ll bring us closer together.
So that we can have another war.
Come on, it’ll be fun.
What do you say?

Bagel

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I put the sliced bagel in the toaster and I thought for a bit… what do I want on it when it’s ready?
This is very important to me. This is how I’m starting my day, you know.
Grape jelly?
Butter?
Cream cheese, onions, and nova?
No, it’s Monday, and that’s Hummus Day.
I look in the refrigerator and I see the jelly, butter, and cream cheese.
But no hummus.
I forgot to buy some at the store.
Sure, it was on my shopping list, but I forgot to get it.
The toaster pops.
The bagel’s ready, but I’m not.

Celloboe

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When I was young, I played the cello.
I was great.
Then, as I grew older, I played the oboe.
I stopped playing music for a while, but I decided at one point I’d take it back up again.
My old oboe and cello were in storage, but they’d been damaged from the years of neglect and abuse.
So, I tried to fix them in my workshop, and I ended up with a celloboe.
Sitting down, I took a deep breath, drew back the bow, and tried to play it.
Bad idea.
I get out of the hospital next week.

Squirrel Gun, Hunting Dog

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I was in the park, watching a guy walk his dog, little puffs of grass and dirt kicking up all around them.
That’s when I saw the squirrel with the sniper rifle up in the tree next to me, nestled among the waving branches.
“You’ve got to compensate for the wind,” I told him.
The squirrel chittered, adjusted his sights, and fired a few more rounds.
POW! POW! POW!
The dog dropped first, then the man spun around into a hedge.
I heard something, and at my feet was that sniper rifle.
And that’s the God’s honest truth, Your Honor.

Blindfold

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Someone glued a blindfold over my face while I was sleeping last night.
Looking back, I’m surprised that I didn’t panic.
I use my cell phone as my alarm clock, so I reached for it, thumbed it off, and calmly dialed 911.
Waiting for the ambulance to arrive, I breathe slowly and meditate.
It’s rather calming, really, rediscovering everything in the darkness.
You know, when they get here, I may ask them to turn around and go back. Come back in a few hours, maybe tomorrow.
If at all.
My eyes are closed, and I feel fine.
Time to explore.

Piano Man

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I was sitting at a San Francisco sidewalk cafe, minding my own business, when a large herd of grand pianos slowly rolled along the street.
“Did they fall out of a truck?” the waiter asked.
“I don’t know, but I don’t think so,” I said. “They’re all going uphill.”
The pianos, paying no attention to our comments, continued their slow, rumbling roll up the hill and out of sight.
“Hey, maybe we should tell someone?” said the waiter. “They might cause an accident or something.”
“You’re right,” I said, pulling out a cell phone. “They completely ran that red light.”

Poor Support

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I’m reading through my emails when I come across one with the subject line of Poor Support!!!!!!
I count the exclamation points – at least twenty.
Then I think for a moment… did they mean Poor Support as in they got bad support, or are they showing sympathy for Support?
Email strips the nuance out of language.
And also, for that matter, the text of the show notes here on the podcast.
I read the message and it’s just some customer bitching that they had to manage their server themselves.
You know – like the contract says.
No nuances there, folks.

Leland Clay

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Leland Clay?
That’s a name that brings back memories.
He was the town’s banker, a decent enough fellow. Always dressed nice. Not too nice – just nice enough.
You know, Leland would leave candy out so the kids would come in to put money in their passbook accounts for college.
Leland vanished one day. So did all the bank’s money.
He turned up in the Bahamas – had himself a nice place there.
Not too nice – just nice enough.
We burned it to the ground with him inside it, and the investigators got the rest of the money back.
Want some candy?

The Diva and The Devil

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I know I’ve been gone for a while, but I’m back.
And, by gum, do I have an opera!
Sold my soul for it.
Drop what you’re doing and meet me at the Old Opera House tonight.
I don’t care what it costs to do this. Put it on my tab and just get it all done, okay?
Bring musicians, instruments, singers, costumes, lighting, ushers, and caterers.
Bring the fat lady, too. We’re going to need her.
This’ll be bigger and better than the last one we did.
They’ll be packed to the rafters, paying anything… everything…
Just like me.