Day: September 11, 2018

26 New Questions

Fandango33 Comments

51FD7E16-4D03-4F93-B8D7-580EA06EACDABarbara, over at Teleportingweena, posted 26 short questions that I thought were fun, so I decided to spend a few minutes taking them on. Are you ready?

  1. Share your profile picture. Okay, you’ve seen it probably every time you visit my blog, but here it is again.Grim fandango cropped
  2. Who are you named after? I’m named after my grandfather, Fandango The First.
  3. Do you like your handwriting? I used to have great handwriting, but now that I’ve gotten older, it’s become virtually illegible, so no.
  4. What’s your favorite lunchmeat Tuna fish. And yes, I know that tuna is technically not meat, but it’s my favorite lunch sandwich. 
  5. Longest relationship? My wife and I just celebrated our 40th anniversary.
  6. Do you still have your tonsils? Yes. And my appendix, too.
  7. Would you bungee jump? Not a chance.
  8. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off? Yes, of course. Doesn’t everyone?
  9. Favorite ice-cream? Stephen Colbert’s Americone Dream from Ben & Jerry’s.
  10. What’s the first thing you notice about people? At the risk of sounding sexist, their gender. Then their eyes.
  11. Football or baseball? Baseball during the baseball season and football during the football season.
  12. What color pants are you wearing? Since I always wear jeans, blue.
  13. Last thing you ate? Pizza.
  14. If you were a crayon what color would you be? I don’t know. Red? Blue? Green?
  15. Favorite smell? Bacon, which I rarely eat. (I was going to say my own farts, but, ew.)
  16. Who was the last person you spoke to on the phone? I don’t remember. I hardly ever speak on the phone. The last person I texted, though, was my daughter.
  17. Hair color? What color is bald? But my beard is gray.
  18. Eye color? Blue. Those are my eyes at the header of this post.
  19. Favorite food to eat? Chesapeake Bay Blue Crabs.
  20. Scary movies or happy endings? Scary movies with happy endings. Actually, comedies.
  21. Last movie you watched? “Active Measures.”
  22. Favorite holiday? Trump Impeachment Day.
  23. Beer or wine? Beer. Wine gives me acid reflux.
  24. Favorite day of the week? I’m retired, so every day is pretty much the same.
  25. Three or (four) favorite bloggers you want to learn more about? Any blogger who takes the time to answer these first 25 questions. That will tell me what I want to learn about them.
  26. Added info you didn’t know you wanted. How do I know what info I didn’t know I wanted? If I knew how to answer this question, then, by definition, I knew I wanted it.

If any of you bloggers out there feel like taking on these 26 questions, feel free to copy and paste the questions and insert your own answers. Or you can use my answers. I don’t mind.

A Father and His Son

Fandango4 Comments

589D2147-3F96-4BA2-BDE1-A8A580F63061“Listen, son,” his father said, “in order be good at this sales game, you need to be able to multitask.”

“I can do that, Dad,” he said. “Watch me take this orange, apple, and peach and multitask.”

“Son, that’s juggling, not multitasking,” his father corrected. “If you really want to be a sales hero when you grow up, my boy, you need to be a magician. You need to be able to divert and distract your marks’ attention. That way, the gullible suckers will be amazed because they didn’t see it coming. They’ll only see what you want them to see, not what you are actually doing.”

“I know I can do that. I can be the best salesman in the world, Dad,” he said. “Believe me.”

“I know you can, son,” his father told him. “If you set your mind to it, maybe someday you can be president. Imagine the jubilation of the crowds when you hold your political rallies.”

“Yes, Dad,” Donald said. “I can see it, bigly.”

Written for the following one-word prompts: Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (game), Scotts Daily prompt (good), Your Daily Word Prompt (multitask), Ragtag Daily Prompt (orange), Word of the Day Challenge (hero), and Daily Addictions (jubilation).

FFfAW — Headlights

Fandango14 Comments

A6674135-992A-4397-AE08-8C434C00744CRoland took his hand and wiped the moisture from his bedroom window so that he could get a better view of the road that led right to his house. Their house was situated at the end of what his parents used to call a “T-intersection.” He remembered when he would lie in bed at night and watch the light from the headlights of the cars coming along the road toward the intersection. The light, sliced into horizontal lines by the partially open blinds that used to cover his window, would travel up the opposite wall and across ceiling of his room. It was almost hypnotic and the light show put on by the cars’ headlights would help him fall asleep.

Back then there were a lot of cars. But now everyone was gone. He was alone. He didn’t know how long it had been since he’d last seen a car drive toward his house and watched the horizontal lines travel across his room’s ceiling. Or since he’d last seen another human being.

(173 words)

Written for Priceless Joy’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Photo credit: wildverbs.

Duck and Cover Redux

Fandango13 Comments

Yesterday, Willowdot21 posted a haiku in which she made reference to something called “Duck and Cover.” I wrote a post about that back in August 2017. I also referenced it in my response to the Ragtag Daily Prompt when, back in July of this year, the word was “duck.” Anyway, I thought, since my original Duck and Cover post was over a year ago, that I’d post it again here, in case you missed it.

duck and coverA post from Bad Dad Cartoons earlier today about “Stop, Drop, and Roll” reminded me of “Duck and Cover.” Are you old enough to remember Duck and Cover? I am.

Duck and Cover was a method promoted by the Federal Civil Defense Administration for protection if a nuclear bomb exploded. It was taught to generations of American school children in the early 1950s until the end of the Cold War in the 1980s. By following the Duck and Cover steps, we kids would be able to protect ourselves in the event of an unexpected nuclear attack. Or so we were told.

Life back in the early 1950s and 1960s was shrouded by the threat of Cold War. There were rising tensions between the two nuclear superpowers, the U.S. and the Soviet Union. A nuclear attack might come at any time without warning, according to our government. To ensure we were ready for that, there were periodic air raid drills during each school year.

In case of a surprise attack, we were told to stop whatever we were doing, to duck under our desks, and then to cover the backs of our necks and our faces with our hands and our arms.

The final instructions were to bend over, stick our heads between our legs, and kiss our little asses goodbye.

Okay, that last part wasn’t really in the official Duck and Cover instructions. But even back in the first grade I wondered how crawling up under a wood desk would protect me against a nuclear blast.

Figuring that adults knew more than little kids, when the air raid drill sirens would sound, I would dutifully duck under my desk, just like all the other kids, and assume the fetal-like position, confident that my wooden desk would protect me when the dreaded nuclear bomb dropped in the middle of the schoolyard.