Old Friends

While eating breakfast at Denny's I found myself watching an old timer eating by himself. He appeared to me to be rather lonely. Once he completed his meal he began writing a letter. This is the letter I imagined him writing.

Dearest Sedgwick:

In 87 years of friendship we have shared many adventures. Our friendship has survived two world wars, three divorces and countless other earth shattering events. From the sinking of the Titanic to the World Trade Center we saw it all. I cannot think of another human being who I would have chosen to share those years of friendship with.

Unfortunately, that friendship ended January 28, 2004 at 7:37 AM. I am no longer going to allow myself to share coffee or anything else with a cheap skinflint such as you.

Yesterday, at Denny's you used the same ruse for the umpteenth and final time. Upon finishing your meal you excused yourself and went outside for a smoke. Then as always you conveniently waited until I broke down and picked up the check yet again. Once more you promised to pay me back but I have yet to see one red cent. By my most current calculations you now owe me $197.82.

I forgave you for losing my first edition copy of John Steinbeck's East of Eden. I forgave you for ruining my autographed photograph of Lauren Bacall. I even forgave you for running off with my second wife Gertrude. (I couldn't stand her anyways.) However, I will not forgive or excuse your cheapness any longer.

Henceforth, this friendship is null and void until you pay me the sum of $197.82 which you now owe me; or until I am lonely enough to put up with your inability to open that wallet of yours again.

Sincerely,

Chester

Memories of a Forgotten Man

Dad I hardly knew you
You were just a dream to me
Someone that I heard about
But who I had rarely seen
I kept your picture in my dresser drawer
I kept your memory in my heart
Now the memories have begun to fade
The years have torn them apart
I have seen so many places
I have felt so much sorrow
Dad, why weren’t you ever here
To reassure me about tomorrow

The first time I fell in love
I could have used some fatherly advice
And when she finally broke my heart
Some comfort would have been nice
I spent so many lonely days
In my room without a friend
If only you had been around
Instead of a memory on the wind
We could have seen so many places
We could have shared so many things
You could have given me your wisdom
And the comfort a father brings

Now, today I received a phone call
From a very good friend of yours
He told me you had passed away
For you cancer there was no cure
But the saddest thing he said to me
Was that he had never known
That you had left three young children
Behind in a broken home

Now his news has torn me up inside
There is so much I would have said
Now I would give anything
If we had, had just one more day
I would have told you all about my life
My hopes, my dreams, my fears
But most of all I would have said to you
I loved you dad, Oh how much I loved you

D.S. Brueckner
1980

Kitty

I am four again.

Lincoln Logs scattered about the dusty hardwood floor.

I am asleep, sock monkey clutched in my little hands. The bed has sheets with cowboys and indians chasing each other across them.

The window is open and a warm, spring breeze fills my room with the scent of my mothers rose garden.

I awake to the sound of purring. A young black and white cat has climbed thru the open window, curled up next to me and fallen asleep.

I named her Kitty and she was by my side for the next twelve years.

After Kitty died, I developed an allergy to cats and have remained catless since.

I still miss that cat.

The Bureaucratic Drone

Last Tuesday I began what I thought would be a simple process. The city in which I live requires cars parked on the street overnight to purchase a daily or yearly parking pass. I went to city hall and completed an application for a yearly parking pass, paid my twenty-four dollars and went home. Assuming the process was complete.

How wrong I was.

On Saturday I received a letter from the city telling me they could not issue the permit because my car had an outstanding citation. The letter went on to say that once the citation was taken care of my application would be processed. Nowhere, in the letter did it state what the citation was.

On Monday I called city hall to find out what the citation was and where I needed to go to take care of it. The drone that answered the phone informed me that they did not have that information available. I asked said drone if they did not have that information available how they knew there was an outstanding citation. Drone replied because we ran the plates through the DMV. Remaining calm I asked the drone why if they had run the plates through the DMV they could not give me the information. The drone's response, I would have to go to the DMV myself, they did not have that information available at city hall. Realizing I could spend the next year going around in circles with this drone I figured I would just go to the DMV and fix the problem.

Today I went to the DMV, which is always an uplifting experience. After waiting for two hours it was finally my turn. To my surprise the person who waited on me was actually human and ready to provide me with assistance. I explained the situation and he ran my plates to find out what the citation was. It turned out to be a parking ticket I had misplaced and forgot to pay. I asked him if he could tell me what city I had received the parking ticket in and you guessed it; it was in the city in which I live. Not only that but the drone who helped me at city hall was the same drone responsible for collecting fines on parking tickets. Not wanting to wade through the muck of city bureaucracy again I elected to pay the fine at the DMV and mail the receipt to city hall.

Hopefully I will receive my parking pass in a few days but I would not be surprised if my favorite drone finds another roadblock to prevent me from reaching parking paradise.

The Leaf

Colored in vibrant gold and reds, the leaf remains in place on its branch. The sole survivor of yesterday's spring. Why this leaf? What inner resolve has kept this leaf attached to the tree? Its brothers and sisters have all given up the ghost. They have fallen to the musty soil beneath the tree damp with winters rain. Some were crushed beneath the feet of children running through the yard, role playing on a Saturday afternoon. Some were pressed between the pages of a favorite book. A few were gathered into bouquets and presented to mothers by tiny children with dirty faces. But with tenacity this leaf remains alone in the sky clinging to its branch. A gentle reminder that all the creatures of creation have a spirit within them that embraces the beauty and joy of life.

Thoughts

I wonder what this person was thinking when they chose the following for their personalized license plate: HAPY BUT.

Prescription Blue's

My understanding of a prescription is as follows: you go to the doctor's, he or she decides that you need something stronger than an over the counter medication. The doctor completes and signs a form authorizing the pharmacist to release that medication to you the patient. End of story. Everyone is happy and goes about their lives. Right.

Wrong.

Today I took a prescription to the pharmacy to be filled. The form was signed and completed by my doctor. The medication is one that I take daily and have been taking for at least six months. I refill the prescription once a month.

I dropped off the prescription. The pharmacy said it would be ready in one hour. I returned in one hour to find they were unable to fill my prescription. Why you may ask? Because the insurance company requires the doctor's signature whenever the prescription changes. (My doctor had increased my dosage from 20 mg to 30 mg.) I explained to the pharmacist that the doctor had completed and signed the form which I given to him to have the prescription filled. Apparently said form does not meet the standards of the insurance company. They require another form to be faxed to the doctor, completed and signed by the doctor and faxed back to the insurance company. Of course, while all this is being explained it is 8:00 pm on Friday evening which means the doctor will not even see the form until Monday. There was nothing that could be said to corporate clone at the insurance company to get him to think outside of his manual that I am sure he was reading from. It was all very frustrating.

Fortunately the pharmacist understood my predicament and gave me some meds at the old dosage to hold me over until Monday when I can joust with the bureaucratic dragons once again.

Conformity

God's children come in a variety of shapes, sizes and colors. We all may stand on two legs and we may share the same basic DNA, but other than that we are as different as snow flakes in a blizzard. A common cause of depression and unhappiness in society today is conformation. We have been sold a bill of goods by the entertainment industry. It has become accepted that if we want to be as one with our brothers and sisters than we have to become them. We have to wear the same jeans. Drive the same car or at least a car that looks like their car. Eat at the same plastic fast food express that can be found on the same corner in every town. Drink the same coffee at the same cookie cut out coffee place that can be found on the same corner in every town.

Enough, already.

Nothing could be further from the truth. We do not have to march in lock step to be happy. We do not have to lose a sense of self in the tide pool of life. Through out history those names that are still remembered are those who thought outside the box. Those who questioned what was and asked what could be. Jesus, Buddha, Confucius, Einstein, Edison and others all ignored the status quo and pursued the unexpected.

We do not have to conform. Conforming will not be the magic pill that leads to happiness. Acceptance will not wash away our troubles and self doubts. By our very nature each of us is an island floating free on the sea of life. If we are lucky, every now and than we bump into other islands that we would like to know better. We might even build a bridge to connect our two islands and spend some time together. Maybe a day, a week or a lifetime.

It is time for us as individuals to embrace our differences. To proudly walk a path of our own creation. To rediscover our heart, our soul, our humanity.

Reenactments

When did the Civil War, one of the bloodiest moments in American history, become a celebration, or a picnic where modern Americans gather together to recreate their favorite Civil War moment. If Lincoln, Johnson, or Grant, are watching they must be moaning and rattling their chains like Jacob Marley. The Civil War was fought for many reasons. Millions of Americans died both soldiers and civilians. Many of those who died did not even understand the root causes of the war and what they were dying for. Even today over one hundred years later scholars are still debating the cause and effect of the war. What I don't understand is the desire to reenact the bloodiest battles of the war. What is the thrill in recreating each charge? What joy can be found in falling to the ground in the throes of a faked death? Why relive each and every bloody moment of a terrible war? When did war become a game? Why did we allow that to happen? When war becomes a game it deadens the reality of the cost. Society begins to slowly look at war as a strategic event and not a conflict that cost the lives of men, women and children. It especially cheapens the lives of those who die on the "other side". We forget that for each bomb dropped a child may have died or lost its mother. War sometimes is a necessary evil but we, as citizens have to remember to keep the genie in the bottle, has long as possible. We need to remember that once removed the genie is difficult to put back. Finally we must remember that even if our cause is just it can become shrouded in darkness if we are not careful.

Mixing Spoons and MIT

Apparently, all of the worlds problems have been solved. Or at least they have been in the eyes of some professors at MIT. While watching the Food Network last night they had a show on kitchens of the future. Now I grew up believing that MIT was one of the universities in this country that great minds flocked to, too solve the great problems of our time. My how times have changed. The next big invention to come out of MIT will be.....the mixing spoon. That's right all the world apparently needs is a good old fashioned mixing spoon. Not just any mixing spoon, this spoon is electronic and can talk to your computer. It will tell your computer if your food is to salty, to bland, to sweet, to sour. It can tell you if the batter you are mixing is to thick or to thin. Now call me old fashioned but I have always felt that the most efficient way to test the flavor of your food was to taste it. With those taste bud that God, or mother nature, or evolution gave to you.

Man of Confusion

Emotions are scattered
Into the wind
The walls tremble
And sometimes bend
Like a magnet
My soul collects
The scattered remains
That others forget
Overly emotional
My mood swings
Go with the flow
Though I can’t sing
I want to be calm
Nerves on edge
Talk me down
From the ledge
I cry out
Torn in shame
I know the rules
But don’t like the game
Like a boy in the park
Wanting to run
Though the dark clouds
Have hidden the sun
I want to love
But there’s so much confusion
Will it last
Or is it all illusion
Another minute
Has passed me by
I stand-alone
I don’t know why
My heart screams
For some attention
Nothing works
No intervention
I want to fight
My soul is weak
I’m so afraid
Of the love I seek
I want to laugh
But I fear laughter
If I disappear
Will it matter
I hope that someday
Someone will understand
My soul
My heart
And the feelings of a confused man

Choices

I chose this path. I am here at this point in 2004 for a reason. When I was born there were unlimited alternatives spread before me strewn upon life's many paths. Each selection I made brought me a step closer to the reality of here and now. Why? Why did I make these choices that have brought me here? How would my life be different if I had turned left instead of right, if I had walked rather than ran? I have no crystal ball to show me what might have been. Jacob Marley's ghost has not promised me a once in a lifetime journey through my past, present and future. The only reality I have is the one in which I am living. The only here is now. The choices I have made are made. I can accept them and move on into the great unknow. Or I can sit in the corner with my sock monkey and cry over all my past mistakes. Hopefully, I will choose to accept the future, but just in case if anyone finds a soggy sock monkey he belongs to me.

Merry Go Round

I sit and I watch
The stars at night
I think of what's wrong
I think of what's right
A war torn country
A terrible sight
Children who run
From the dark to the light
My heart is heavy
With insignificant pain
But what I feel
Just isn't the same
My problems are few
Compared to theirs
Someday it just seems
Like it's so hard to care
As I sit in the park
On a merry go round
Placed there for children
To spin round and round
I want to cry
But I can't find the tears
I want to run
But the pain is always near
To some love is the answer
A light at darkest noon
To me love is a fear
That never leaves to soon
Some can't understand
That, emotions are real
Not something tarnished
Made from recycled steel
I want to run
Into the arms of a friend
I want to hide
Until time begins to bend
I want to capture the moonlight
Dancing on the waves
I want to walk thru the sand
A moment to save
I want to live without questions
No soiled explanations
Talk to whom I please
Without emotional citations
I want to live in solitude
Lost in a fantasy
I want to sleep in the rain
And escape reality
I want to be a boy again
No pressure to bear
Playing with soldiers
Dirt in my hair
Riding a merry go round
Singing a song
Watching the moonlight
And crying…
Alone

Shadow Tag

She runs across the lawn, her golden hair dancing in the sunlight. The sound of winter leaves crunching beneath her tiny feet. Her shouts echo across the courtyard. Her laughter joins with the songs of nature in a joyful symphony. Just four year olds and her life is unfolding before her, no cares, no worries, just a soul filled with wonder. So easily amused. She spends a good fifteen minutes, chasing the shadow of my hand around the yard, trying to catch it. Laughing, falling, rolling in the grass. Jumping to her feet and trying again. Screaming, "I did it", at the top of her little lungs when she catches it. Before long she forgets the shadow tag and begins chasing the crows around the yard. Laughing and singing, lost in her own little world. Finally worn out she crawls onto my lap and whispers, "Daddy, I love you. Can we go home now?"

My First Cocktail

1962. I was two years old. We had just moved into a two bedroom rental. My mother, was painting and cleaning and chasing me around the house trying to keep me out of trouble. My father was working and drinking, drinking and working which is about all he ever did.

To keep me occupied my mother gave me a spilly cup filled with orange juice. I happily toddled around exploring my new surroundings. In a corner of the yard I found an old jar with a lid on it. I took the jar and the lid and returned to the porch. Some small part of my mind must have remembered watching my father mix drinks because I managed to remove the lid from the jar and the lid from my spilly cup. I mixed the contents and replaced the lid of the spilly cup.

Of course, after mixing my first drink I had to try it, which is where the trouble began. I had chosen to mix my oj with ant poison....What did I know I was only two. My guardian angel must have been paying extra special attention that day. Just as I slurped down the last of my cocktail, my mother came to check on me and realized what I had done. She grabbed and ran to the car, a convertible Cadillac, she left me there and ran in the house for her purse and keys.

What she failed to realize was that the keys were in the ignition. While she searched the house for them I was busy playing with my new rattle. Looking out the window, she saw me with the keys and came running for the car; just as I through the keys in the ivy. She franticly searched for them but they were gone.

So she grabbed me from the car and began running down the street in the general direction of the hospital. I cannot imagine what she was feeling by this point but I am sure that I had scared the shit out of her. My guardian angel must have still had his or her hand on me because she had barely run for a block when two teenagers pulled up and asked her if she needed help. She explained the situation and they got us to the hospital in record time.

There my stomach was pumped and I was placed in ICU for two days before I was sent home. Somehow though I managed to survive without any permanent damage. At least none that I know of.

Xerox Heart

Torn Between
The smooth and the rough
Feeling hurt
But Haven't had enough
Wanting to fight
Feeling the strain
Lost in the sorrow
Hide from the pain
Deep in the night
The echoed screams
You hear the words
But not what they mean
The silent madness
Of a broken heart
Tried to hard
Lost at the start
Drowning in tears
And shallow thoughts
You got what you wanted
But not what you bought
A cheap imitation
Of priceless art
A bootleg copy
Of a broken heart

In the morning light
Sanity returns
The minds at peace
But the memory burns
Trapped at 1/2 speed
No master mix
Forever copied
Unable to fix

Rusted Innocence

The crowd had all gathered
To celebrate another year
One step closer to manhood
One step closer to fear
The toys were all present
Three candles on the cake
We all sang happy birthday
But the happiness was fake
His mother and father now live apart
And the boy is too young to understand
The grandparents try to spoil him rotten
More than the parents ever can
His godparents could not be there
So they sent him lots of money
His uncle built his brand new swing
And his aunt, she planned the party
All the kids came to visit
They ate up all the ice cream
They played lots of birthday games
Boy those kids could scream
His great grandmother stood alone
Complaining and full of sorrow
She has never let happiness interfere
She just worries about tomorrow
His mother is trying Oh, so hard
To be the strong single parent
Though no matter how she tries
Her feelings are transparent
His father sits outside the circle
Alone in an empty crowd
Just watching, it hurts so bad
He wants to cry out loud…

The boy he just keeps playing
To him, it’s just another day
Laughing with his brand new toys
Why can’t innocence stay
All to soon
The days will change
Another year older
Nothings the same
Maybe someday he will understand
The confusion in this world
Maybe someday he will fall in love
With a pretty brown eyed girl
And if he has his own child
A beautiful baby boy
I hope he can slow down
And take the time to enjoy
Because all to soon
The dreams are gone
The soul is empty
We stand-alone
To face the illusion
Of our life
The lost love
The buried strife
All to soon
We die alone
In a quiet town
Without a phone
Just a faded picture
From long ago
Of three small children
We used to know

d.s. brueckner

Disposable Children

To often it seems that in today's world some parents treat there children as if they were disposable. They pay more attention to their car, their game, their gossip, their job, anything but their children. My neighbor and I took our children to the park today. We each have two. Mine are 11 and 4. Hers are 8 and 10. Anyhow we were at the park for a few hours watching our kids play. In that time no less than two parents lost their kids and could not understand what had happened. In both cases the parents were with large groups of adults and were to busy to notice where their children had gone. Fortunately both children had just wandered off and were soon reunited with their parents.

Plastic

Are you losing your hair
Is your back to hairy
Are your breasts to small
Is your butt to big
Are you to fat
Are you to skinny
Do you hate your face
Do you hate your smile
Just give us some money
We can build a new you
A new body
A new face
A new smile
More hair
What ever you want
Your hearts desire
Can be had for a price
But when you look in the mirror
Will there be a new you
Will you be happy
Will you be loved
Will life be worth living
Or will you find
That beauty is skin deep
And all those nights
Spent crying in the dark
It wasn’t the exterior
That filled you with dread
It was the darkness you found
Inside your head
It was your soul
That was warped
By the pressure of now
To be what the world
Wanted you to be
A smiley happy person
With no thoughts of their own
Following the crowd
Off of the plastic cliff
Where modern beauty
Flounders
In a tide of indifference
Where the soul
Has become
A spark of insignificance
Left to fade
In the shadows of dawn

d.s. brueckner
2003