1968 - The Hoochie Coochie Tent - 99 Words

I was 17 years old at the Acton Fair. I was determined to gain access to the Hoochie Coochie tent. Last year, the hawker out front laughed and sent me packing.

How could I get in? Security was tight. Without an ID, it seemed destined to be a failed effort. It was no longer about ogling naked women. It was now me against the rules.

As I walked away, it came to me out of the blue.

I would come back in my military school uniform. They might let me in then.

It worked. 

Oddly, I left totally unimpressed.

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True story. I compacted it into 99 words so I could enter it in the weekly Carrot Ranch Flash Challenge. It has been awhile since I tried any Flash Fiction. I really enjoy Flash challenges. They force me to focus on the essence of the story, without all the trimmings that so often are just that, trimmings.

I have a much longer piece about this incident from my teen age years. It has languished now for at least a decade.

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I had a song picked out for this story before I even wrote it. I heard the song for the first time in college, several years after I sneaked into that Hoochie Coochie tent. Please enjoy "Sharon", by David Bromberg.

 

99 Words on Weather

Yesterday, Jacki Sue in Texas, mentioned on Facebook she was enjoying a rainstorm for the first time in months.

Comments from other mid-western areas and one from California talked about droughts and intense temperatures that plagued their locales.

I made no comment. I just couldn’t.

Summer in Maine has been different, but not as different as elsewhere in the country. Temperatures and humidity are higher, but tolerable. If anything, we have had more rain this summer than usual. My basement had water in it until mid-July.

Mother Nature’s capricious use of her wrath just proves Life is not fair.

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The first tune I checked out was my only choice. It's the video that really makes the tune work. Here is an instrumental by Annemieke van Leeuwen. It is called "Mother Nature's Anger".

Lying Truth Reborn

 

Lying Truth

Facts injected with conjecture and foregone conclusions,

 Cast Truth aside in pursuit of knee jerked solutions.

 Lost in a sea of deception,

 Specious goals are massaged by lying hands,

 Replacing Honesty with Truth’s ugly step sister,

 The Half Truth.

 

 The Midway Squawkers and Snake Oil Salesmen

 Insist and demand the Half Truth into our lives

 Hoping their deception lasts long enough

 For them to cash in their nickels and dimes.

 

 Assaulted long enough,

 We allow recent lies to become our New Truth.

 Delusion casts itself in stone

 Brain dead populations dance around it

 Happy as if they had brains.

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I first wrote this as a Flash fiction 100 word composition quite awhile ago. I have now converted it into a poem with some minor changes. It is no longer 100 words, it is now 99 words.

I thought given the current political moods clashing and thrashing worse than ever, re-posting it here and now might just impart how I feel regarding the current crop of leaders and their lackeys.

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So I had no problem locating an appropriate tune for this post. 

"Lyin Eyes" by the Eagles will do just fine.

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The Image at top is an enhanced photo taken in Stalingrad during World War ll. 

It is titled " Barmalej " (Children dancing around Crocodile )

Limits

1/28/12 - Carrot Ranch Challenge
99 Words - Prompt - wishing star

Maybe a tad irreverent.  All I can say is, it is what came to mind. ......... Oh well.

"Limits"

“Wish I were, Wish I might……… Ah, screw it.  This doesn’t work anymore.”

Crestfallen, Jesus stood on the Mount and stared up at the night sky.  Moments passed as he wallowed in self pity.  Off to his left, a brighter star than the rest seemed to come closer.

“Boy, I told you there were limits. “

“But Dad, how can I turn this planet around if you won’t cooperate?”

“Well son, I’ll tell ya.  No water walking, leper healing parlor trick is going to upstage that damn Free Will clause I enacted ………… Time to pull the plug.”

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Contrary to my write from the hip style, instead of going with my first effort, I tweaked this one into three slightly different takes.   This was the third version.  And though I am still on the fence somewhat as to which one I like the best, I felt this one told a more complete story.

Regardless, seems I have gotten over that awkward period of re-acquainting myself with Flash. Cool. Trying to make it better is a good next step.

Oh Yeah - I wrote the first draft to the tune "Honey Dripper" as performed by Dr John, the Night Tripper.   Some of the Devil's music.


Enjoy 

Later Gator ..............................................

Paisano

12/21/17 – Carrot Ranch Flash Challenge

99 words exactly – Prompt – “White Flowers”

During a season that is supposed to be about the joy of life, giving and goodwill to Man, we should also take a moment to reflect on those who have lost, are lost, and will continue to lose in the future. 

Paisano

Hovering over Pauper Grave #242, uninhibited tears fell onto the single white Chrysanthemum Jack clutched in his hand.   Six inches of snow had found its way into the cast off Bean boots someone threw at him from a Lexus.  He did not even notice.

It was six Christmas Eve’s ago he had identified the body of his hard times friend.   Closing his eyes, Jack could still see Rodney’s gap toothed grin after they had constructed their last blue tarp cardboard palace together.

Jack tossed the Chrysanthemum on the grave and watched it disappear into the fresh snow. 

“R.I.P. Rodney”.

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Maybe it was my recent re-read of Steinbeck’s “Tortilla Flat”.  Or maybe it was today’s NPR piece on the Homeless Vigil held in Portland, Maine around Christmas every year.  Toss in some white flowers and there you have it, something to write about.  

Whatever reason ya’ll have for celebrating, please enjoy it, savor it, and carry it as far into 2018 as you can. 

Ho …………………………………………….

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Cross posted at  Lostin the BoZone, Too

The Deplorable Double Wide - 99 Words

Flash Fiction site, "Carrot Ranch Communications" does a weekly 99 word challenge.  This week's challenge (11/9/16) is "write a story that pivots around an unexpected ending".  

In lieu of watching the news, commenting on the news, and hating the news, I figured to give it a go.  Anything to take my mind off the nightmares that will haunt me for at least the next 4 years.

My effort this week:

The Deplorable Double Wide

Roscoe opened his eyes.  Disoriented, he took stock of his surroundings.  He was seated at a wooden table in the kitchen of a deplorable double wide.  

Where he was now was not the location of his last waking moment.  He was sure it was tipping shots and slapping backs with his Wall Street buds in lower Manhattan.  On the big screen, their guy was kicking ass. 

“Uh, Where am I?”

A pudgy hand with no wrist dropped a plate of Spam and eggs in front of him.

“Home, you dumass.  You got shitfaced last night cuz your man won.”

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There you have it.  

Keep it 'tween the ditches

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Also cross posted at BoZone - Too