Entries Tagged 'Art' ↓

I don’t like him. He struts through the club like he owns everything. His entire personality oozes pompous.

There are many reasons to join the intelligence services. You might do it for your country. You might do it as a matter of knowing you are protecting your family and loved ones. You may feel it’s your duty after coming up though the ranks in the Marines. It is possible to join just to for the fun of being a spy. I didn’t know there could be a reason so far fetched that it would bother me. I think it’s wrong to to be a spy because of your love of deceit. That is Husten Brockings.

That strutting slime just passed as I was taking the stole from my wife’s shoulders. She smiled far too nicely at Brockings and then turned and winked at me. I know that smile from many intimate moments with her and it made me uncomfortable. AND, she topped it off with a wink to me! Has she been swooned by this…this wretched pile of a man

Brockings has be married three times and has a way with women that turns the stomach of most members I’ve talked too. Aside from his ability to avoid alimony and child support by using his high powered connections, it’s his working his way though many of the single and married women of the club that disturbs us.

Who names their child Husten anyway? What man wears shoes that click when he walks that are distinguishable above all the ladies in the club? Why does he need to be noticed, “I am Brockings and I am walking here!”

Geesh!

Being this obsessed over the wad bothers me more that the actual person. That in turn makes his presence all the more unpleasant.

Mary and I have been members of the club for 25 years, since we were newly webs. At that time we were the youngest ever accepted into this fine establishment. It’s as much a place to relax as it is an extension of my professional life and I take it seriously. I’ve served on many committees and just recently headed the finances committee. Now Brockings is about to head things up while I return to the general ranks of the finance committee. I am not looking forward to this. It will be delicate work to disguise my despise.

The evening ended uneventfully for Mary and me. There was something in that cheese that hung on my tongue and no amount of port could wash it off. I needed relief. I pulled the car into gas station and went into the convenience store for something, anything to rid my tongue of the film.

A shocking fireball rolling around my mouth was doing the trick!

Pulling into the lot as we drove away was Brockings. Needing a different kind of relief now, I let it slip, “Mary, the way you smile at Brockings gives me the creeps. I have to know what you see in him.”

“Really, dear?! Are you missing the joke?! I know he’s influential and I smile only to be polite. I can’t stand that douche!”

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First: There was never a fart jar, (see last posting). This is creative writing…I take artistic license.
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Jury Duty.

I left the house at 7:10AM and caught the Hopkins Shuttle at 33rd and St. Paul. I took my work I.D. in case they check for that now, but they didn’t. The schedule and route are PDF’s anyone can get online and get a free ride downtown and back.

At the next stop a lady got on that likely was not a student. I glanced up as she chose to sit next to me. The bus rocked and rolled down St. Paul. When it came time to get off at Center Street, where it turns to go the main hospital, I said to her, “This is my stop”. She replied, “This is my stop, too”. and I took a double take…”Barbara”?

“Oh, she said, “I wondered if that was you when I sat down, but decided it wasn’t”.

I almost always have a hat or helmet on when she sees me, but I wasn’t wearing anything on my head. I have never seen her with a hat on before today, as she was bundled up from the cold We walked the 4 blocks to the courthouse talking about our neighborhood and how fun it was to have run into each other.

Jury duty breaks up the daily routine of; wake, get to work, do the work, go home. It is a chance to have a low-grade adventure, meet people you would never have the opportunity to meet, (run into a neighbor), eat lunch at a place you never have eaten before.

To top-off the trip, you get to “tour” one of Baltimore’s most grand and lovely buildings, the Clarence M. Mitchell Courthouse! I can not tell you how wonderful it is to be in this grand old “house”. Built in 1900 for the purpose it is still used for 108 years later. (There is a law museum inside. Stop by and see the grandeur for yourself).

What’s not to like?

Everyone seems to like people watching, right? You get that in spades!

It’s not all roses, however…I did smell some bad breath from the seat behind me in the court room. Also had to move from my seat in the jury room, because “Baby Huey,” with the think glasses and ragged sweat-shirt was smelling of pee…pee yew! I felt bad for the guy, but not any affection. He was comfortable around people with only half a clue what was going on. Not a full bag of marbles.

At the start of the day in the jury room they give you an orientation. Two years ago I walked all over the grand old building taking photos, while waiting to be a chose juror. This year they said, “No wandering the halls and photos are prohibited”. Well, it’s good I arrived to the courthouse 25 minutes early and took care of that.

At lunch time I walked 7 blocks to Mt. Vernon to a Thai/sushi place. I got a Bento Box served at the sushi bar. Best I can describe it as the lunch special. It came with a nice little salad. The sushi was very good. The bowl of chicken “something” was so damn spicy it made my eyes water and I was choking and coughing. I drew unwanted attention…the waitress asked if I was ok and I coughed my reply. Glad i did, i got a really nice bowl of chicken in a creamy yogurt curry.

Can’t remember the name of the place. It was under Donna’s at Madison and Charles.

Got picked for a jury with about 90 or 100 others and went to a beautiful marble court room. We all were spoken to by the judge with questions like; if we had anyone in our family on the police force; anyone in our family mugged; or if we had been arrested, among other questions.

After and two hours of waiting for each person to have a three-on-one with the judge and counsels to discuss the issues above, it was time to pick the 12 jurors plus 2 alternates. At this time there were about 50 jurors left in the court room.

They picked the jury they wanted before they got to me so I got to leave. A nice lady seated near me overheard me talking about where I lived and offered me ride home…sweet!

What’s not to like?

I have this Fart Jar I’ve been storing farts in since I got out of college in 1980. I was thinking of selling it on eBay and I can’t figure out what to price it. There is someone out there that would pay big money…I think. I was leaning toward asking for one hundred per year…$2800.

It was about a month after I got out of college and I’d moved out of my parents house. I was unpacking a box in my apartment and came across this empty jar. So, it really won’t be 28 years old until September, but a 27.5 year old fart jar is a big deal…that’s a lot of farts!

Now days so many jars are plastic and would be less fragile and thus have a longer life. Back then there weren’t great plastic carry-out containers, either. I’m scared I might drop this thing and then there is the issue of packing it right for shipping if I do sell it. Hell, It might sell before it gets to eBay if this post draws enough attention.

I imagine some farts leak out when you open the jar to put new ones in. I lifted the lid a few years ago just to see what kind of bouquet would escape and it mostly smelled like pickles…it was an old pickle jar. Pickle smell is all that my friends noticed, too. Man, it was a tough sell getting some help from them!

EBay has nice method of keeping track of your negative feedback so new buyers can see at a glance your trading record. There are issues I will need to come clean about, so I don’t lose my high standing. Honestly, this jar was with me during some of my many moves and stayed packed for years without use. That has to knock off some value. I’m starting to think I may not have a jar worth much.

Does a thousand per year sound right, or should I cut a deal right off and let it go for half that?

Bikebreath