Down the Hall on Your Left

This site is a blog about what has been coasting through my consciousness lately. The things I post will be reflections that I see of the world around me. You may not agree with me or like what I say. In either case – you’ll get over it and I can live with it if it makes you unhappy. Please feel free to leave comments if you wish . All postings are: copyright 2014 – 2019

Archive for the category “Secret”

I Think I Remember…

PASSWORDS – LOVE ‘EM, HATE ‘EM, CAN’T REMEMBER THEM. All I can do is forget them.

The discussion this morning at my Play Group (St. Arbucks morning coffee) was all about computer passwords and all of our problems with them. One of the Usual Suspects who shows up every morning for coffee and pointless conversation was wrapped up in mind numbing problems remembering his computer passwords. The ones he could recall were no longer in use and it was bringing his life to a screeching halt.

I tried to help. He’ll get over it and resume speaking to me eventually.

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I’ve Done My Part

 

I DID MY CIVIC DUTY TODAY. I VOTED without going stark raving mad and trashing the joint.

My wife, the lovely and civic minded, Dawn, and I did what they call “Early Voting,” which is like going out to dinner and eating in the kitchen before the restaurant is really open.

Given the state of local politics here in Terre Haute (That’s French for, “Call the prison and see what’s for lunch.”) there is no assurance that the winning candidate won’t be in jail on Election Day. I think that the ballot should list Names, Party Affiliation, and the number of indictments each person is under. It’s just a suggestion.

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Fiction Saturday Chapter 25 – And Pull The Hole… Continued

Fiction Saturday 

Chapter Twenty-Five

 

pull-airplane“I hate this.  I can’t hear a damn thing.”

Inside the crowded cabin, the roar of the jet engines was only a constant vibration to him.  No sound was getting through.  He always flew stone deaf.  It would take two days for his full hearing to return.

“I know, Dominic,” said Peeto.  “Happens every time you fly.”

“Happens every time I fly.”  Dominic pinched his nose and blew, trying to open his blocked ears.

“I tell you, Peeto, I hate to fly.  I really hate it.” The blowing did no good.

“Yeah, it always messes up your hearing,” nodded Peeto.

“It always messes up my hearing, y’know?”  He stuffed five sticks of gum into his mouth.

It was a little more than an hour into the flight from Newark to LAX and the flight attendants had already started dealing out the prepackaged, precooked, and pre-ruined meals to the passengers.  It was a ritual known to the attendants as “slopping the hogs.” Somehow, that part never got into their ads.

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Move Over Cap’n Crunch

crunchI DROPPED IN AT ST. ARBUCKS this morning. I was going for coffee, but my wife, the lovely and perceptive, Dawn, said that I was going for my “Play Group.” I promised to behave and to drink my milk before nap time.

Yeah, right.

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