Oh my God

I came home to find my house in great disarray. The refrigerator door had been torn off its hinges and lay in the middle of the living room. A half-eaten steak was nailed to the wall. The cat was swimming in the fish tank. The sofa was sawed in five pieces. My prized collection of Highlight’s magazines were covered in jam and torn to shreds, strewn the length of the hallway.

I walked into the bedroom and found God snoring and and naked asleep on the bed.

I shook God and shouted, “Wake up, God!”

God muttered, “Let me sleep.”

I shouted, “No, you need to get up now!”

God’s eyes opened. God said, “Okay, go ahead. What are you gonna beg me for this time? A full head of hair? Unlimited licorice? No more itching?”

I said, “You wrecked my house! Why would you do that? I thought we were friends.”

God said, “I don’t know. Sorry.”

I said, “Whatever.”

I went into the living room and pulled the cat out of the fish tank. I got out a towel and dried it off.

I picked up the refrigerator door and tried to put it back on, but I had no luck with the ripped hinges. I left the door leaning against the refrigerator.

I got out a hammer and pulled the steak off the wall and threw it in the trash.

I got out some rope and did my best to tie together the pieces of the sofa.

God came into the living room, sat on the sofa, which broke apart. God flipped over backwards, arms and legs flung out wildly.

The ride

When I was three I decided to tricycle around the world. My parents were excited and felt it would be an educational experience. And they said I would be safe because tricycle’s tires are made of hard thick rubber and can’t get a flat.

My mom packed me twenty-five butter and jelly sandwiches and put them in my Banana Splits nap-sack. I started out from Provo, Utah on a Saturday morning. My parents took a lot of pictures and waved good-bye.

I made good time as I peddled with a fury. I was born with the extraordinary talent of non-tiring legs.

I rode my trike along freeways. Cars honked and people waved showing their encouragement.

By night I reached the coast of the Atlantic Ocean. I got out my air mattress from the nap-sack. I blew it up and put it on the water. I got on and latched down my tricycle with string. I laid down and was lulled to sleep by the waves.

When I woke up I was on a beach on the coast of Morocco. I deflated the mattress, put it away, and set to rapid fire peddling. That night I’d made it to Jerusalem, Israel. I slept in a barn in a hay filled manger just like the baby Jesus.

I woke up the next day, riding like a speed demon until I made it to the east coast of Vietnam. On the beach I met an oxen named Derrick. He asked me where I was from. I said America. He asked what it was like. I said it was a lot like Vietnam but not as hot.

That night I slept on my floating air-mattress on the South China Sea. I was woken up by the sounds of a boat’s horn. I saw my dad steering and waving from a boat while my mom waved as she trailed behind on water skies. I found out later they decided to take advantage of my not being home and took a trip to Hawaii and rented the boat.

Since I was awake, I got in the water and kick paddled my air mattress until I reached San Francisco Bay. I slept that night on a cot in a cell in Alcatraz Federal Penitentiary. They had an empty cell because the previous lodger got the electric chair the night before.

The next morning I got a boat ride to San Francisco from the warden. I rode with glee and ferocity until I arrived home that night as my parents were pulling into the driveway.

My parents unpacked. My mom made macaroni and cheese. We sat on the couch and ate on TV trays while we watched The Brady Bunch.

The hole

I looked down into the hole. I couldn’t see the bottom.

I said, “Hey,” into the hole.

I heard my echo. After an hour of the audio repetition I forgot it originated with me.

I said, “Hello,” back.

With each response from the hole, I responded with a, “Hi,” or, “Hello,” and occasionally a reactive nod.

Eventually I was exhausted and I passed out and fell into the hole.

I woke up in silent darkness.

From above I heard, “Hello?” I looked up and saw an old man looking down into the hole. The greeting echoed.

I wished I’d stayed home.

My first job

When I was a kid, I needed a great deal of money to support my Bazooka Joe bubble gum addiction. I was up to 3 new pieces every hour. That was $1.50 a day, which is $1390 in today’s money.

I asked my dad if I could use the family’s push lawn mower to mow the neighbor’s yards for money. He said yes and I used my etch-a-sketch junior printer to make a bunch of fliers that I put on all the neighborhood door mats.

I got a call the next day from President Nixon. We lived a block from White House. He asked how much I charged. The White House lawn was especially big. I said $10.50, which would scratch my gum itch for a whole week! He said he’d pay $3 plus an extra large button that said “President Nixon – Now More than Ever.” I felt in my pocket and counted three cents and moped, “I guess that’s alright.”

I pushed the mower over to the White House. Back then there was no guarded entrance. I walked up the long driveway and knocked on the door. President Nixon answered the door in his fancy suit.

He looked at the mower and said, “When I was your age, my daddy made me scythe the entire yard’s lawn. I pretended I was Dickie Death, lawn slayer. I showed no mercy.”

I said, “That’s good. I’m gonna start now.”

I set about the mowing. I got tired after a half hour. Plus the flavor of my Bazooka Joe ran out. I felt like I was chewing wax.

I went into the White House hoping to find a snack. A lot of people were walking around fast. My kid’s radar guided me to the kitchen. The chef was smoking a cigarette and reading a pulp paperback. I asked if I could get a cookie. He pointed to a jar. I grabbed a handful of chocolate chip cookies. I asked for a glass of milk. The chef pointed to the fridge. I grabbed a carton.

I went outside to eat and discovered the President mowing the lawn with our mower. He was wearing baggy shorts and an, “I’m a Pepper!” t-shirt. He waved at me. I waved back.

I sat on a bench ate and drank and watched. The President was fast. He mowed row after row with no signs of fatigue. He seemed possessed.

The President finished the entire lawn. I felt cruddy. I had a dull headache. I worried that I wouldn’t get paid.

The President came up to me, smelling like grass. His eyes were ablaze. He reached into his pocket and gave me five dollars.

He said, “Can you come back again next week?!?”

3 cows in a field

Three cows hang out in a field.

One of the cows says, “I like baseball. I think I would be good at catching a ball with my mouth. I’m going to the tryouts later this month. If I get the job, I’m out of here.”

Another cow says, “That would be great. You hog most of the the grass. Plus you are a noisy chewer.”

The other cow says, “Mostly I’m excited about our field trip to the Hormel processing plant this afternoon.”

A trick of the light

I was working on this post when I heard, “psssssst,” from down below.

I looked down. I saw my shadow.

I said, “Was that you?”

My shadow said, “Yes.”

I said, “What do you want?”

My shadow said, “Just wanted to say hi.”

I said, “Hi. I gotta get back to work.”

My shadow said, “What are we working on?”

I said, “Not we. Me.”

My shadow said, “But we’re doing it together.”

I said, “It seems like that. But you’re actually a parroting replicant silhouette of what I’m up to.”

My shadow said, “If that’s the case, how am I able to respond to you?”

I said, “I’m a ventriloquist.”

The shadow said, “But I don’t see your mouth moving.”

I said, “I’m very good.”