Getting to know Fredrick the lightening bolt

I was walking out in a field in the rainstorm when it started to thunder.

I’m generally happy-go-lucky, so I didn’t worry about getting struck by lightening. But then this big bolt of lightening struck out from a cloud and was headed my way.

When the bolt was a few feet from my head, I asked, “Hey, what’s your name?”

The bolt stopped and said, “Oh, it’s Fredrick.”

I asked why it said, “Oh.”

Fredrick the bolt of lightening said, “It’s just that no one ever asks.”

I said that I was genuinely interested. I had never meet a bolt of lightening before.

I told it my name. We talked a good long hour. The entire time Fredrick the lightening bolt hovered in the air above me.

Finally, Fredrick said, “You know, I need to complete my journey into the ground or I’m gonna get in trouble. Would you mind if I travel through you in order to do my job?”

I asked if that meant I would get electrocuted.

Fredrick the lightening bolt said, “Not if you think about lavender.”

So I did. And he was right.

Now I know

I was playing guitar on stage when I thought about you.

I thought, “I wonder what you’re doing right now?”

I didn’t know. So I paused mid-song. A minute went by. I still couldn’t think of what you were doing.

I set down my guitar, left the stage, and walked out of the club. I walked for hours. And then more hours.

I walked along the freeway for a while. Then across a field.

And then I began to walk across a bridge. Halfway across, I found you sitting on the edge of the bridge, fishing. You looked up startled. I apologized for the startling, walked back to the club, got on stage, picked up my guitar, and finished the song.

A note from way down under

Hi. I’m riding my dog team up to my igloo and thought I’d take a moment to type you a check in. To be honest, I’m typing this to you on my phone in order to keep my fingers from freezing. If I don’t move them constantly, then turn into ice claws.

When I first moved to the Antarctica, I thought I would be getting away from it all, and finally have a relaxing, do-nothing life. But I’m busier here than when I lived in my penthouse back in the city. This bottom of the world life is a constant flurry of activity meant only to keep yourself alive.

The other night, my igloo caved in while I was sleeping. I immediately got up and began forming new ice blocks, and then positioning them into a new igloo. I had to breathe hot air between each block in order to get it to melt a little so it would stick to the next block. By the time I was done, the Sun was coming up, and I had to go searching for breakfast to capture, kill, and cook.

Anyway, I shouldn’t be typing and dog steering at the same time, so I’d better sign off.

Pesky the Snail Hits the Road

I went for a walk with my pet snail, Pesky.

Pesky the snail said, “There are so many places in the world that I want to go, but the problem is it takes me so long to get anywhere.”

I put Pesky the snail on my head and said, “I can help you go faster. Where would you like to go?”

Pesky the snail said, “First, I’d like to go to Tirana in Albania.”

I got in my car, drove to the airport, got a ticket to Tirana, flew the long flight, and landed in the Tirana International Airport, all with Pesky the snail on my head.

When we got to downtown Tirana, I set Pesky the snail and the sidewalk, and we continued our walk.

A lot of other people were walking their snails.

I said, “I can see why you wanted to come here.”

I like to roll my ball down the street

I like to roll my ball down the street. I’m careful not to hit cars.

Once I came awfully close to scrapping the side of a parked car. But somehow the ball just missed the car.

I roll the ball for exercise. The ball is made of concrete, so pushing it requires some heft. Then there’s the additional walking. And there’s especially the stopping of the ball.

Change of heart

I rolled the bowling ball down the alley. It stopped half way.

I said, “What’s going on?!”

The bowling ball said, “I don’t want to do this.”

I said, “What do you mean?”

The bowling ball said, “Just what I said.”

I said, “But you always roll down the lane and knock over some pins.”

The bowling ball said, “Yeah, but not anymore.”

I said, “Well, I wish you’d told me ahead of time.”

The bowling ball said, “You wouldn’t have listened to me.”

By now the people in neighboring lanes were listening in.

I sighed, walked down the alley, and picked up the bowling ball. I walked back to my car, set the bowling ball in the backseat, put on its safety belt and drove towards home.

About halfway home, I said, “I’m sorry you think I don’t listen to you.”

The bowling ball said, “I’m sorry I made a scene.”

I looked in the rear view mirror and saw the reflection of a streetlight on the bowling ball.