the captain's march

a while back i had promised some short stories and other creative material in this space rather than just the old run-of-the-mill observational claptrap you get from other bloggers. Some delusional diatribe i wrote after being laid off. What can i say? i'm busy curing cancer—building the perfect weapon—making the perfect omelet—whatever,—sometimes i've been just plain lazy...

being unemployed is a stressful business, not everyone is made for the guerilla life...

anyway, I recently returned from a two week spa treatment in Tucson, AZ and came up with a quickie for the Tucson Weekly (http://www.tucsonweekly.com/tucson/Home)—not published—it was for a 25th anniversary contest they put together. The rules stated that the story could not be longer than 84 words since the publication was founded in 1984. The results of the contest will be released in the weekly on July 23rd (i think). The following is the unabridged version of The Captain's March...

The Captain was keen to his opportunity. During his five years of captivity he rarely received such a fortuitous break. The gate was ajar—there were no sentries lurking about. He took a final survey—all was clear. He took a step out unto the perimeter grounds...

At last! Freedom in his grasp!

He quietly stalked through the open gate making his way through the courtyard, one lone obstacle in his path. He summoned the strength to make the leap over the fortresses ivy-infested wall.

"Captain Orange!," exclaimed the Cat Mom as she picked up the plump orange boy cat, tucked him underneath her arm, his pearly white paws hanging in defeat—the jig was up. Firmly in the Cat Mom's clutches he was ushered back into the house.

"Foiled again," lamented the Captain. "My time will come."

tw—June 2009...

guerilla decompression...

Let us reflect...

if you want a blow by blow of the events of the hostage exchange in Kansas City you can either catch the news on facebook or beingabastardworks. You find all you need to know there...

after 5 days of guerrilla tourism—(i believe i've coined the use of the word to form phrases like guerrilla finance and guerilla health care—all parts of the everyday life of this resident of the constellation)—i've chosen to decompress, do some house chores and get back to life outside of the Yaribs (a term coined by one A. Howley)...

i will say that I spent a fair portion of my time was looking for an item to represent the trip—my old celica florida license plate,  a piece of desert wood and handmade cabinet from Tuscon, or my HI metal plate from Hatteras, NC for example. It was at the City Market in KC that I found the mirror pictured above at an antique shop named Vintiques...

i decided to hang it today even though it still needs to be stripped and repainted, that's looking a job for the weekend. The place is really starting to come together—guerrilla decorating...

the woman at vintiques commented with a smile that it was a good mirror...

it was a good trip...