Saturday, February 28, 2009

Hysterical Gladys

“Daddy, what is that?” little Gladys asked as they sped past a field of giant round bales of hay. “That’s the Jolly Green Giant’s shredded wheat cereal. He is gonna pick it up and put it in his bowl. The he will milk a couple of hundred cows and have breakfast” he answered matter-of-factly. Gladys had procured her favorite spot in the T-bird. The spot in the front seat between her daddy and momma sitting on the console. She had escaped the hell of sitting between Buck and Matilda in the back seat. “He touched me. Make him stop touching me” cried Matilda. “Loooook….my finger is almost touching you” Buck replied while sticking his finger right in Matilida’s face but not quite touching. “MAWMA make him STOP!” Matilda screamed then grabbed Buck’s finger bending it backwards in a totally unnatural position. “MAWMA! She’s trying to break my finger!” Buck screamed in agony.

Meme took a deep draw off her Benson and Hedges 100’s and turned in the seat as she blew smoke out her nose like a dragon. “I’m not going to tell you damn kids again. Stop fighting! Buck stop aggravating your sister. Matilda stop hurting your brother. Now just sit back there and try to stand each other for another 45 minutes.” She took another drag off the extra long cigarette and patted her beehive back in place and went back to changing the radio station. “Bob, you need to slow down your gonna get a ticket.” Meme admonished while digging through her purse for her ‘Love That Pink’ lipstick. Bob looked at her and said “Honey, I’m a cop. Don’t worry about it” and mashed the accelerator a little deeper into the floor.

Gladys had noticed several of these little brown signs on the side of the road. Now she was only six years old but she knew that those signs must be something really important so she started reading all the road signs they past. “DeLeon 37” no that wasn’t it, because that sign was green. “Load Zoned Bridge” that one wasn’t it either it was black and white. They went a little further up the road and she read out loud “Hysterical Maker 5 miles”. The car went quiet. Meme stopped looking for her lipstick, Buck forgot his finger was in Matilda’s face and Matilda stopped in mid punch. There was a silent rumble starting. It started slow with Buck saying “What did you say Gladys?” Six year old know-it-all Gladys very righteously replied “that sign said Hysterical Marker 5 miles.” Buck snorted, Matilda giggled and Meme said “No baby, it said His-tor-i-cal not hysterical.”

Gladys knew what she had read. She was not stupid. She had completed the first grade and was almost in the second grade. She knew how to read. That sign said HYSTERICAL MARKER 5 MILES and she was going to prove it. They drove a little longer with the two magpies in the back seat making fun of her. She didn’t care. What did they know? They thought she had been found under a rock when she knew that she was really a superhero from another planet just like Clark Kent.

“Daddy what’s that?” Gladys asked as the past a grain silo. “Oh, that is a giant ice cream cone” he answered. Then she saw it coming up on the right hand side of the road. “DADDDDDIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEE! STOPPP!!!! RIGHT NOW! STOPPP!!!” Gladys screamed at the top of her lungs. Trooper Bob started slowing down afraid that maybe his baby daughter was having a coronary or just a pee emergency. “What is it baby?” he asked. Meme too was looking at her youngest child with pure concern. “I want to see the hysterical marker” Gladys cried. Trooper Bob snorted and coughed and said “Gladys! Damnit don’t do that! You almost gave me a heart attack. I thought you were hurt or something. I’m not stopping at the historical marker.”
Gladys folded her arms in front of her chest and said “IT’S A HYSTERICAL MARKER. IT SAID SO ON THE SIGN.” She puffed out her bottom lip and assumed full pout mode. This was too much for the two in the back seat. They were rolling around snorting and giggling. Hysterical marker heehee. Meme was biting her bottom “Love That Pink” tinted bottom lip and Trooper Bob was trying to keep from looking at Gladys’ pouting face.

From that day henceforth anytime you see a brown sign on the side of the road in Texas know this; it is a Hysterical Marker. Gladys said so.

Friday, February 27, 2009

Gladys Versus the Giant

Gladys stood with the box of Kotex extra absorbent in her hand. She tried to hand it to Juan but he just stood and looked at her with hate in his eyes. Was this an exchange between lovers? Was it a woman trying to help her sex change challenged male almost female friend through a tough spot? No it was an employee to employee situation with no such luck of a sexual harassment suit in the future.

Juan was a large man who was very much a self proclaimed manly man. He stood 6’8” and nothing shy of 300 lbs of pure muscle. Remember the guy in the Green Mile who played John Coffey, Michael Clark Duncan? Yeah that was Juan. He was a man among men. Not that he was a man among men in the sense that he wore black leather assless chaps and hung out in gay biker bars. No he was a manly man in the sense that he could wrestle a bear with his bear hands. He could rebuild a carburetor with a match stick and a paper clip. He could drive everything from a stage coach to a 5000 ton end dump. He had a deep resonant voice that would make Barry White and Al Green sound like Minnie Mouse. He had a look that said “Don’t mess with me or I’ll mess you up.” I had seen this large powerful manly man pick up a side by side refrigerator in a bear hug and set it up into the back of a pickup truck all by himself. He was a force with which to be reckoned.

Yet Gladys found all 5 feet and 90 pounds of her womanly self standing toe to toe holding femine hygiene products out to this man. “Juan, just take them. I have to get back to work.” Gladys said. Juan continued to glare down into Gladys’ eyes not looking at the package she held. Gladys sighed and said once again “Juan, I have to go back to work. Take the damned Kotex so I can tell my boss I gave them to you.” “No, ma’am Miss Gladys. I am not touching them things. I will wrestle gators but I don’t touch them thangs.” Juan replied still not looking at the package. “Juan they haven’t been used. They are still in the box. Just take them” an exasperated Gladys sighed. Then she bravely thrust the box toward Juan’s hand. He jumped back and screamed like a little girl and looked at Gladys. The rest of the paint crew began to wander over to the little office clerk and the large factory foreman.

“What’s goin on here?” asked Jake the iron bender. Gladys looked around and noticed that the rest of the line had shut down and had now gathered around her and Juan. “I was told by the front office to go buy a box of extra absorbent Kotex for Juan to use in the paint sprayer. I am just trying to get him to take them, but he won’t.” Gladys demonstrated this by once again trying to put the box into Juan’s hands. Again the giant of a man screamed like a thirteen year old girl at a boy band concert and jumped back. This of course caused a great deal of glee with the men working the assembly line.

“Do it again, do it again” they cried in unison. Gladys wasn’t there to humiliate anyone nor was she trying to get clobbered, she just wanted Juan to take the Kotex and get back to work. The group cackled and teased and taunted the big man. Gladys thought the assembly line crew to be insane taunting the giant that way. Then she heard the supervisor’s voice from the back of the crowd “Gladys what are you doing down here?” She turned to see Martin the supervisor pushing his way through the crowd in a huff. “Martin, I was told to go buy some Kotex the big Economy EXTRA absorbent ones at Costco and bring them to Juan to use in his paint sprayer. He won’t take them. The fact is every time I try to hand them to him he screams like a little girl and jumps away from me. None of these other fellows will take them either” Gladys explained.
Martin looked at Gladys and then at the crowd of assembly workers who immediately started to disperse. He looked again at Gladys and said “Well hand them to him and go back to your cubicle.” Gladys knew that Juan was not going to take them although she didn’t know why. She took a deep breath and thrust the box towards Juan once again. There was a screech and Juan jumped away from the box.
Gladys had tired of the game and decided to risk life and limb “Damn IT Juan just take the damned Kotex!” To which Juan responded “You don’t understand. Them are women things and I ain’t touchin them. Them things go where no man should go when the curse strikes. That makes them cursed. My granddaddy done tole me ifin you ever touch them thangs then you lose your manhood.”

Martin didn’t miss a beat and said “Juan are you married?” Juan confused looked at Martin and said “Yes sir.” To which Martin answered “Well son then you already lost your manhood. Take the damn Kotex and go back to work.”

That is the day little old Gladys made a Giant Scream and run away.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

I See A Bad Moon A Rising

The sun was just setting in the distance but it wasn’t yet dark. It was the time of year where the moon and sun are in the sky at the same time. It isn’t yet dark but it isn’t bright sunshine. There is a bit of a nip in the air but not enough to require a coat. It is full of fresh smells and changing colors. Photographers love this time of the year for the natural golden colors. Trooper Bob also loved this time of year. People were not cabin crazed from being shut in the house for the winter and ready to let loose. He always felt it was a more sedate time of year. He observed people were almost bear-like in their move to winter hibernation.

His shift had begun several hours prior and it was quiet so far. He had made his usual drive through town out past the Dairy Queen and out onto the interstate highway. The sun was behind him as he drove toward his post for the evening. He set his cruising speed at 65 mph even though the posted speed limit was 75. He got into the slow lane and just watched the traffic and turned the police radio up a notch. There wasn’t much chatter going on and he figured he was in for a quiet evening.

He felt it more than he heard it as it went screaming by him. He saw the blur as it sped in front of him. It was one of those brand new Ford Mustangs hitting about a hundred miles per hour. He keyed the mike and said “Dispatch I’ve got a 1965 Ford Mustang traveling at a high rate of speed.” He then put his foot to the floor and that Chrysler roared to life. He switched on his siren (Sigh Reen) and moved into the hammer lane. He pushed the accelerator down a little bit further and watched the needle go from 80 mph to 90 and then climb up over 100 miles per hour. He was a lean mean screaming machine eating up the asphalt and blowing the doors off of everything on the highway to get at the little red pony that had passed him.

He saw the red car growing bigger and knew that he was on it. He closed the distance and noticed the little red sports car pulling over to the side and he began to shut down the lion of an engine. He noticed the driver was in fact a woman or better said a girl. He grabbed his ticket book and his Stetson picked up the mike and told dispatch “I’m 10-60 (meaning he had stopped the vehicle and would be out of the car) on a Red 1965 Pony license number XYZ-123.” He climbed out of the car, put his Ray Ban’s on and set his Stetson on his head. He walked to the back of the car and looked through the back glass. There was a single driver and no other occupants of the car.

The driver window glided down and a pretty little brunette stuck her head out of the window and smiled a big bright smile and said in the sweetest West Texas drawl “Is there a problem officer?” Then she batted her heavily mascara-ed lashes and looked up innocently at Trooper Bob. “Well, young lady,” Trooper Bob replied “you were going about 100 miles per hour back there. That is a mightly dangerous rate of speed.” The Pony Girl again smiled her brightest smile and said in her drawl “Why, I did-int reeelize that this lil ole char would go that fahst. I had No idea!” Trooper Bob wasn’t buying it. He was a pretty good judge of horse flesh and felt this little girl had gotten out of her share of ticket with just this act and so he asked “Just where are you off to in such a hurry?” Pony Girl leaned a little further out the window showing just a bit more cleavage than was visible moments before and said “Why I’m haided back to school. I go to ESS-EMM-YOU and I’ve just got to get baack in time for my study groop.”

Trooper Bob smiled knowing from just this little bit of information she was used to getting stopped and giving just this response. “Well then I’ll write this ticket up real quick and you can get back on your way and arrive on time driving the maximum rate of speed allowed by law.” He then turned and took her license and registration and went back to write up the ticket. He called into dispatch and learned that Pony Girl had several other traffic tickets for exceeding the posted speed on the same stretch of highway. He wrote up the ticket and marked up the fine and walked back to the Mustang. “Well Miss Pony Girl looks like you need to make a court appearance on your tickets or you are gonna have a warrant out for your arrest.” She looked up at Trooper Bob and big old tears started welling up in her eyes and she sniffed and plead “please don’t give me another ticket! My fiancĂ© will have a fit and my daddy will take away my car! Please, I’m beggin you don’t give me a ticket.” Trooper Bob was just about to say something when about that time he heard a buzzing. He looked up to see a motorcycle coming up the highway towards them at a high rate of speed. It was hurling up the highway towards them only something didn’t look right. It got even with Trooper Bob and Pony Girl and then it dawned on him that the driver of the scooter was doing so standing up on the bike with his pants around his ankles. Trooper Bob was being mooned. He turned toward Pony Girl with his jaw slacked open and was about to ask her if she saw what he saw when Pony Girl screamed “Billy Joe, YOU STOP THAT! This isn’t funny!!!” Trooper Bob handed the ticket to Pony Girl and asked “You know that guy?” Pony Girl batted her eyelashes and said “Yes, sir. That’s my feeantsay, Billy Joe. He goes to Ess-Emm-YOU law school.”

Trooper Bob took his signed ticket and tipped his hat to Pony Girl and said “Looks like you got yourself more trouble than a couple of speeding tickets. You got yourself a Bad Mooner A Riding.”

That was the day that Trooper Bob had a double Moon in the daytime.

Waterboarding Buck's Way

I have said this before but for those of you who haven’t read every single one of my stories I am telling you again. First let me ask you why you haven't read my stories? Do you think I write just to hear myself talk? Well do you? Oh wait, don't answer that. Ok so I was found under a rock. I am the youngest of three kids. My eldest sibling, Buck, is my brother. Let me give you some background on Buck. First of all he was according to my mother a perfect baby and child. He was well mannered, polite and an obedient son. Well up until he had siblings. When my sister came along Buck found a personality trait in the recesses of his id. The dreaded aggravator gene. Yes folks Buck was blessed with more than his share of the aggravation gene.

One of Bucks favorite torture techniques was something I believe the CIA actually took and used in Gitmo. It is called the Buck Spit Technique. Buck would first chase me down and grab a squiggly squirming six year old Gladys. He would capture her by her waist which in all honesty wasn’t that difficult because she was only 45 pounds of skin and bones and frizzy hair. He would pretend he was a professional wrestler and body slam Gladys onto the couch or into a pile of pillows. Matilda would act as referee as Buck would then sit straddle of Gladys tickling the air above her body. You see Gladys was one of those rare children whom you did not have to touch to tickle. She was so ethereal and sensitive you could just tickle her aura and she would be driven into hysteria. Okay maybe not her aura but you could just pretend to tickle her and wet pants were sure to follow.

Oh but the torment did not end there. No in fact this is where Buck would drive little Gladys completely over the edge. Here is where the original waterboarding was invented. He would hover above hysterical Gladys’ racking heaving body gasping for air. He would lean within 10 inches from her face and let a string of spit hang from his bottom lip. He would let it drop until it was mere millimeters from Gladys’ face. It would hover above the bull’s eye between her eyes. Gladys would scream, she would pinch and try and bite her tormentor but it was to no avail. You see the deal was if she moved Buck would free that spittle and it would drop onto its awaiting target. If Gladys stayed still and told Buck what he wanted to know he would suck it back up into his mouth. It was Matilda’s job to monitor how much torture Buck expended before she stepped in and would in turn take Buck down in a pile driver. This usually occurred just before Gladys spilled her guts as to where Matilda’s candy stash was concealed.

I know that many of you have siblings with an over abundance of this gene. I know many of you went through the same sibling torment that I have endured. How do I know this? Just read the report on Waterboarding. Somewhere there are siblings to these CIA agents saying “Thank God they found terrorist on which to practice their techniques”.

Just the Facts Week Ending 2/13/2009

*I have had several people ask if these are real calls. Yes they are and I have written them verbatim from the Flathead Beacon. I look forward to the weekly publication’s Police Blotter. It also has many interesting headlines and article that I’m sure you would not see in the New York Times. *

There are a million stories in the city.


"The story you are about to hear is true; only the names have been changed to protect the innocent.")

The Flathead Beacon:
Police Blotter for the week ending 2-13-09

A sampling of crime briefs from the Kalispell Police and Flathead County Sheriff’s reports…by Julius Macker (comments by Gladys)

TUESDAY 2/10/2009

2:14 p.m. A repo man tried to take a vehicle but was unable to do so. Apparently, the incident will have to be settled in court because the people in possession of the vehicle have a signed title.

If you have the title doesn’t that mean you have paid the vehicle off? Hey repo man maybe you might want to double check that paperwork

4:08 p.m. A man was walking away from his wife on Rocky Cliff Drive. She was yelling at him.

So that’s who called the repo man

5:05 p.m. Two men were pulled over on the side of the road. They were unable to speak English.

What were they speaking, Pig Latin? I can see the responding officer.

Officer: “Sir is there a problem here?”
Motorist:“It way appearsway eway avehay anray outway ofway asgay”
Officer: What? I don’t understand what you’re saying.
Motorist: “Oday ouyay eakspay igpay atinlay?”
Officer: “Why don’t you speak English like the rest of us. If you can’t speak English go back to where you came from!

5:42 p.m. A man chased four boys through a playground.

Well at least he was getting his exercise.

5:56 p.m. A white “Honda type” car tried to pass another vehicle on US Highway 93.

Can you imagine someone calling the California Highway Patrol because they got passed on the highway?

7:35 p.m. A group of people, who were drinking at a Montana Highway 35 bar, went outside and challenged the other patrons to fight. The bartender said all was square – the fighters had left.

But he didn’t say who he bet on and if he won or not.

7:40 p.m. Three boys were seen running behind a school in West Valley. A truck was then seen in front of the building. The incidents, according to the Montana Highway Patrol, were not related.

Was a man chasing them?

10:27 p.m. A dog was running around a trailer park. Someone thought that was suspicious.

A drug deal going down? Nope not suspicious. A car on blocks? Nope not suspicious? Screaming coming from the neighbor’s trailer? Nope not suspicious. A dog running around? NOW THAT is suspicious.

THURSDAY 2/12/2009

9:57 a.m. Two cousins got physical with each other in Flathead County. No one wanted to pursue charges.

In most states first cousins getting physical is against the law.

10:05 a.m. A woman on Spotted Bear Road called in because her boyfriend was late.

Late for what? Late for his period? Late for dinner? Late for his wedding?

11:30 a.m. Neighbors in Olney had a spat over a vicious dog.

Does this mean they sat and hocked up loogies over a vicious dog? I wouldn’t taunt a vicious dog by spitting on him with my neighbor.

1:17 p.m. An inebriated man called his neighbor’s wife a dirty name.

Oh come on tell us who it was and what he called her, then we will tell you if it’s true or not.

1:43 p.m. Someone said that their belongings were stolen.

Who is the ‘Someone’ and why are things always happening to them? Do they hang out with the nefarious ‘They’?

3:00 p.m. There was a disturbance on Foothill road. Apparently, three men had a dispute over wood. A pistol entered the equation too, but it’s not clear who brandished it, or why they did so.

So many comments that could be made here.
What was the dispute over? The size of their wood?

4:23 p.m. Checks on Montclair Drive were stolen.

Do people still use checks? I mean it’s not like you can buy coffee with a check or anything.

5:01 p.m. A man on Beach Road in Bigfork called authorities. He had called at least once before in the last 24 hours.

Oh THANK GAWD! I have been so worried!

11:21 p.m. A 50-year-old woman, who was intoxicated, refused to leave a bar in Lakeside. She was gone before when authorities arrived.

Sounds like she changed her mind

11:45 p.m. Someone thought a white Honda with tin foil covering all of the windows was suspicious. It was parked in an Evergreen parking lot.

See there is that ‘Someone’ again. Is this the same one that the occupants didn’t speak English? That was passing people on U.S. 93? Are we being invaded by Pig Latin speaking tin foil sporting wreckless driving aliens?

12:46 a.m. Bigfork, specifically Beach Road, is safe.

Mr. Kravitz appears to be back on patrol.
1:42 a.m. A drunken woman caused a commotion at a park in Kalispell.

Hey fellows! I think I found the beligerent lady from the bar.

FRIDAY 2/13/2009

8:23 a.m. Someone had been writing bad checks for coffee

Ok I think I know who stole the checks…

9:18 a.m. Someone in Hanover County, Va., is upset about services rendered in the Flathead. Apparently his or her watch is still broken.

Wow that ‘Someone’ really gets around. So ‘Someone’ is upset with services rendered 2700 miles away? How did it get fixed in Flathead in the first place?

10:12 a.m. Shots were heard behind a trailer court on Shady Lane.

So that’s not suspicious?

12:44 p.m. Someone’s identification was used to open a phone account.

Well they usually require you to provide I.D.

4:02 p.m. A woman left the country, but her sister held onto her ID and apparently used it.

Hey call me Colombo I think I’ve solved the case.

6:06 p.m. A truck driver struck a pole near the entrance of North Valley Hospital.

Well at least he didn’t have to go very far to the E.R.

Joe Friday Quote

[on a multi-lane highway, traffic all around is passing and sounding horns]

Pep Streebeck: You know, uh, Friday, we're allowed to go 55... On some occasions, even faster. Friday: I'm well aware of the federally mandated speed limit, Streebeck. But, did it ever occur to you that, by going eight miles an hour slower, we might save some gasoline and ease the burden on the poor taxpayers out there who pay our salaries?

Pep Streebeck: Friday, a little extra gas isn't gonna put the city in hock; besides, this looks bad! Come on, live a little - it's the vertical pedal on the right

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Gladys and The Tooth Fairy

Mrs. Winston looked both ways before she started out her door. She hadn’t been at the nursing facility long but she knew when people were in their rooms and when they weren’t. She checked the hall for the morning nurse to make sure she was busy in the medication room before she made her way to Mrs. Ziegler’s room. She knocked softly on the door and peeked her head inside. The result was exactly what she wanted it was empty. She repeated this routine as she left Mrs. Ziegler’s room and went to Mr. Green’s room.

She made her way down the hall visiting each room and then moving to the next. She was quiet and made sure she wasn’t seen or heard. She made her way the length of the hall. The only sign that she had been there were some droplets of liquid she left behind trailing from room to room. She knocked waiting for a response and when there was none she would make her way to the bedside table to complete her mission and move on. She did this every morning like clockwork.

Around 7:45 a.m. the chaos had erupted at the nurse’s station once again. There gathered around leaning on canes, propelled by walkers and wheeled by chairs stood the angry mob. They put forth their complaints and demanded restitution. They wanted the culprit caught and punished. They were an angry mob they didn’t just want punishment they wanted the guilty party hanged. They cried out in indignation that the person who had committed this heinous crime didn’t deserve to live.

There in the center of the riotous ruckus yelling as loud as the rest was Mrs. Winston. She was outraged, she was infuriated and she wanted this problem solved. She stood there with her false teeth in her soaking cup holding it up so the nurse could see. “These are not my teeth” she asserted in her toothless mumble. The other residents all raised their cups in the same protest.
Over in the corner in her wheel chair sat Mrs. Ollie Roberts. Mrs. Roberts was in the ravages of dementia. She would sit in her chair all day and repeat “Take me home, take me home, take me home. I’ll give you a dollar and a half and a cow and a calf. Take me home, take me home, take me home.” Then she would cackle wildly and start her offer all over again. Except for today. Today Ollie sat in her chair and watched the spectacle unfolding in front of her with keen interest. Today she made no offers of bovine bartering today she smiled a knowing smile and mumbled “I know who did it. I know who did it.” Only no one was listening to Ollie, they had tuned her out.

Finally Gladys asked them all to quiet down and to tell her exactly what had happened. That is when Mr. Green said that for the third morning in a row he had gone to put in his dentures only they weren’t his. He described a protruding palate and two pointed canines that were on his dentures and not on the ones in his cup. Mr. Self yelled from the back of the crowd “Bingo! I got a pair with a protruding palate and pointed canines. Now who has my dentures with the yellow incisor and the broken molar?” Then from the other side of the crowd came “I’ve got your broken molar who has my partial plate?” This went on until Gladys was able to assemble the crowd in the dining room. With denture cups in hand each resident would bring forth a pair of dentures. The group would inspect the prosthesis and determine whether they belonged to them or not. All the time in the hallway sat Ollie saying “I know who did it. I know who did it.”

When some semblance of order had been restored and the residents felt comfortable with the prosthetics that had been returned Gladys started her investigation. This was before the advent of CSI so it was more of a Colombo type investigation. Well without the smoke billowing junker car and the dirty trench coat and cigar. Gladys went from resident to resident and took a statement. She also inspected each room. She noted the trail of Efferdent laced water that looped through the facility. Gladys wrote down her findings and sat with the chief of security and explained the situation. “I am at a loss as to who could have done this” she stated. “I’m sure it was one of the residents and not one of the employees” she reported and continued on in her findings. Fred, the security chief replied “well don’t worry too much about it you got it worked out.” Fred dismissed the situation as to just another episode in the Elderly Mysteries and went about his rounds.

Gladys got up to return to her office when she spotted her sitting in the hallway. She noted that something was different today and it wasn’t just the mix up in the dentures. Mrs. Roberts wasn’t chanting her normal mantra. She was instead giggling to herself and mumbling something. Gladys approached Mrs. Roberts and inquired “What is that you’re saying?” To which Mrs. Roberts cataract laden eyes turned up to her and said “I know who did it.” Gladys took a chance and said “Who did what Mrs. Roberts?” “Who took the teeth” was Ollie’s reply. Gladys had seen Mrs. Roberts of moments of lucidity and thought she had solved the mystery. “Mrs. Roberts who took the dentures” Gladys asked hoping that this was one of Ollie’s rare moments. Ollie cackled that crazy cackle and then pulled her gnarled and crooked finger out of her pocket and pointed at Mrs. Winston. Then she cackled again and said “The Tooth Fairy took them!”
Gladys was aghast. Mrs. Winston looked astounded and started to shuffle away as fast as she could. “Mrs. Roberts are you saying Mrs. Winston took them?” Ollie smiled a knowing smile and grabbed Gladys' hand and said “Take me home, take me home, take me home. I’ll give you a dollar and a half and a cow and calf. Take me home, take me home, take me home.” Gladys looked at Mrs. Roberts and then at the retreating Mrs. Winston and she knew who the tooth fairy was.

Going Hollywood

Today is the day that Uncle Oscar gets handed out to the hardworking deserving people in the motion picture industry. How wonderful to have a forum where your work is not only acknowledged but acclaimed. I have never worked in a job where awards were handed out for anything. Unless of course you count the paycheck I got every week and to be honest that is acknowledgement for me.

Now every year the street in front of the Kodak Theater in Hollywood gets shut off. They setup blocked off areas for these Hollywood Notables to walk through and wave to the little people who pay big bucks to see them on the big screen. They arrive in limousines in designer clothing with jewelry from Harry Winston dripping from their ears, necks and wrists.
I don't think this is a Harry Winston design nor have I ever seen Julia or Meryl sporting this with their Oscar outfit.
They are the lime in the lime light, the glitz in the glamour and the nache in the panache. Everyone is dutifully impressed and enamored with the pageantry.
Kahuna and I have had in our relationship a practice of going away for one weekend a month. We take turns planning and procuring our events, lodging and location. We usually stay within a hundred mile radius of our home so that it is an easy drive or train ride. Then we act as tourist in our own backyard.

One March several years ago Kahuna planned a special outing. We left early Saturday morning and headed towards Los Angeles. We drove the 15 to the 91 to the 101 to the 110 that brought us into downtown L.A. I had no idea where we were headed and continued to ask “where are we going, what are we going to do, why are we going to L.A. etc.” Kahuna would drive and just smile not giving away our destination. I was a at a total loss until we pulled into the valet parking at a large high rise hotel in downtown L.A. The valet took our car and gave us a ticket and we walked into the lobby. Kahuna looked at me and asked “do you know where you are now?” I was baffled, I didn’t have a clue. I looked around and the hotel looked familiar but I knew I had never been there before. We checked in and the bell boy took our bags and we boarded the elevator. That’s when it hit me. I knew where I was as the elevator rose to the top floor the realization hit me. I was in the elevator that Arnold Schwarzenegger had taken to the top floor on the back of a horse in True Lies. Yes folks we had arrived at the Bonaventure hotel of the stars.

This is the Bonaventure. If you have never had the pleasure I highly recommend it. Stay as close to the top as possible. It makes earthquakes much more interesting.

We decided that we would proceed on our being tourist in our own backyard adventure by loading up the camera and going to Hollywood. We didn’t stop to consider why the hotel was so full or why there seemed to be so many people in L.A. on this sunny March weekend. We did what any typical L.A. tourist would do. We headed out to see Sunset Boulevard and the ‘walk of stars’. One thing you must remember is that Kahuna never met a stranger and doesn’t take no for an answer. We arrived on the Strip to a cavalcade of on lookers. There were road blocks and traffic cones everywhere. Kahuna pulled the car up to a traffic directing officer and asked “Where do we park? We are supposed to be the theater in 30 minutes.” I sat in the passenger seat not saying a word and biting my bottom lip so I don’t break out laughing. The officer says “do you have your pass?” Kahuna pulled out his SAG card and says “not yet. That’s why we have to be at the theater today.” The officer looked at the card and then told us to go around the block and park at the Roosevelt Hotel.

This is the Roosevelt. It doesn't look like much from the outside.

We again had the valet take our vehicle and then made our way through the hotel and around to the theater. Can I take a moment here to tell you I am probably in need of some serious psychological counseling. Anytime I hand the keys over to a valet I have this vision of them taking off on a wild ride around the town like they did in Ferris Bueller's Day Off. Like I said Kahuna has never met a stranger. I popped into the ladies room to powder my nose and fluff my hair only to be met on my exit by Kahuna talking to some guy. He looked at me and said “honey, they are going to show us where we need to go in about 15 minutes. Do you want a coffee?” I looked at Kahuna knowing that we were in full bullshit mode and said “I guess that would be fine. I hope they hurry though I still have a final dress fitting this afternoon.” About that time a young intern appeared and escorted us through the theater. She took us up on stage and placed in the seats where pictures of various stars to give us an idea of where these people would be sitting. She continued the tour to the lobby and showed us where the stars went to sip Champagne and chit chat and how they got taken back stage. She also started pointing out various aspects of who will be seated where and what to do when they got up out of their seats. They told us that no seat should be left empty at any time.

If you have the opportunity to take a tour of the Kodak, I highly advise it. It really is pretty neat. They have copies of Oscars and they give a really good tour. Especially if they think you are a nobody filling in for a somebody.

That was when it hit me. They thought we were seat fillers. We weren’t of course we were just doing the tourist thing. We hadn’t realized that it was Oscar Weekend. We were taken around the theater and told that usually this is done the week before but since we were filling in for the fillers in that they would run through it so that there weren’t any questions. That’s when Kahuna piped up and said “I’m not sure what you’re talking about. We are just here for the tour.” The intern looked at him horrified and said “What do you mean your just here for the tour?” Kahuna said “Well, like I said before my wife and I are here to fill in and take the tour. Our travel agent back in Iowa told us that sometimes they have people who pay for but don’t show up for the tour of the theater. So I told that guy up front I was here to fill in and asked him what time the tour was. Then he called you.” The intern was thoroughly disgusted and I was biting back a serious case of uncontrollable giggles. We did however get a wonderful tour of the theater and got to look at the Academy Awards before the ceremony took place. We also got to hang out in the Roosevelt hotel for the afternoon.

Were you aware that most of the stars you see getting out of those limos are actually staying at the Roosevelt? They get in the limo and get driven around the corner and let out in front. Then the limo goes and picks up someone else and does it all over again. In truth all they have to do is walk around the corner and bing bang bam they would have saved a gallon of gas. Since the Roosevelt is connected to the Kodak they in all reality could just walk through the hotel to the theater and completely by-pass the paparazzi and the annoying questions of “Who are you wearing.”

So as you’re watching the pomp and circumstance of the red carpet hoop-de-la remember this. They are probably coming from just around the corner where for the last 24 hours they have been lying in bed eating cold pizza and watching the “Dirty Jobs” all day marathon. They have to get up and go pee just like everyone else and when they do someone who is a no one will be sitting in their seats. Doesn’t sound so glamorous when you see it from behind the scenes. That my friend is what makes Hollywood…Hollywood.

Friday, February 20, 2009

I Choose YOU

She stood there against the backstop and waited. She looked from Ronnie then back to John. She had her hands behind her back with her fingers crossed. She repeated the mantra to herself “Please don’t let me be the last one picked again. Please don’t let me be the last one picked again.” She looked down at her brown suede Hushpuppy shoes, her white bobby socks and her skinny, scrawny scabbed over knobby knees. “I’ll take Kurt” John said. Oh Great! Kurt got chosen before me? He throws more like a girl than I do, she thought. Then Ronnie said “I’ll take Frankie.” Frankie? Stinky Frankenstein Frankie is more desirable than me, her mind cried. How much more humiliation would she be made to bear? She was beginning to feel sick to her stomach and woozy she looked around and there were only three left to be picked. John could pick Freaky Frog Freddie the geeky nerd boy who wore high-water pants and horn rimmed glasses and always had some type of an amphibian in a jar. He could pick Nosepicker Natalie who was a miner for a nugget of booger gold. Nat had the ability to stick her finger up her nose so far she could scratch her brain but that wasn’t her only talent. She also had a reptilian like tongue that swiped the nugget off her finger so fast that only stop motion photography could prove it. Then there was her, Found Under A Rock Gladys, who was half the size of her classmates and bone assed skinny with big frizzy poofy hair and a hand-me-down too big wardrobe. It wasn’t looking for Gladys.

Then she heard it and her heart sank. John, the cutest boy in second grade had made his choice. He chose Nosepicker Natalie over Gladys. Nat turned to Gladys and patted her booger picking hand on her back and said “Better luck next time” then she snorted up a big wad of snot and went to stand next to John. Gladys knew this wasn’t about popularity it was about sports. Ok maybe it was about popularity but in second grade your athletic ability had a lot to do with it too. I mean the geeky freakishly smart Frog Boy Fred wasn’t the most popular person. Unless of course it was science fair time and you wanted a partner who would get you an “A” without you having to do any of the work. Nope it was looks and the ability to kick the ball past the home plate pentagonal piece of concrete that won honors at Robert E. Lee Elementary.

Not wanting to risk another moment of humiliation and degradation I did what any reject kid would do. I went to Miss Perkins or better known as Perki-dicki-di-do and said “I don’t feel well. I think I’m going to throw up.” Now Ms. P had been around the block and knew my M.O. She looked me up and down and looked once again at the line-up on the kickball diamond. She turned to me and said “So how bad do you feel? Call your momma to come pick you up bad, or maybe you just need to go sit in the library for the rest of recess?” I looked up at her with a look of pure gratitude and relief and said “Just library sitting sick.” She patted me on the shoulder and said “Okay, you go on in to the library and return to the classroom when the bell rings.” I could have hugged her I was so relieved. She was my hero and my idol at that moment, although I often felt differently when she made us do word problems.

I had started towards the library when I had a thought, an epiphany actually. I stopped and retraced my steps to Miss P. She looked down at me a little confused and a bit put-out. I mean after all she had given me a get out of humiliation free pass. She said with a little tinge of irritation “Yes, Gladys, what is it?” “Miss Perkins,” I stammered “would it be okay if Fred went to the lie-berry with me?” She looked at me and then turned to look at Freakish Frog Freddie standing there all alone while Ronnie and John argued about their teams being lopsided and why did one have to take Fred and not the other. She blew her whistle and yelled over to the crowd “Fred, could you come here a second? I have a really IMPORTANT task for you and Gladys.” Fred looked at Miss P then he looked at me. I recognized the expression on his face as one of pure deliverance. He ran in his geeky arm flapping wildly by his sides way towards me and Miss Perkins. He looked up into Miss P’s face with a look of pure unadulterated love and said “Yes, ma’am. What can I do? I’ll do anything.”

Miss P leaned down to our level and said very quietly so the other students wouldn’t hear and said “I need you two to go to the library, tell Mrs. Brown, the librarian, that I need to make 25 copies of this Quiz.” She pulled a piece of paper off her clipboard and handed it to me. Then she said in a much louder voice “I know I can trust you two with this.” We shook our heads in a conspiratorial fashion and both ran off arms flopping wildly at our sides feet kicking out to the sides in our non-athletic geeky kid run.

I felt so rescued from the horror of being last picked I didn’t bother to look at the “Quiz”. Freakish Frog Freddie however did look. He stopped me just before we entered the library and said “Hey, this is the Quiz from yesterday. I think Miss Perkins gave us the wrong paper.” Then he grabbed my hand and headed back out to the play ground. I dug the heels of my hushpuppies into the concrete and said “I’m not going back out there. She has a reason for wanting this and I’m gonna make sure she gets it. Besides what if she makes us PLAY kickball if we go out there?” Freakish Frog Freddie was intelligent, he was book learned but he wasn’t too street smart. He didn’t look at things from the same stand point as your regular old common sense type reject. I could tell he was taking in the information I had supplied. He processed it in his computer like brain. He weighed the facts to the hypothesis. Heck he even worked out the whole word problem in his head. Two rejects leave the library at the same time which one will be made to play kickball? Then the light bulb illuminated above his head and he got it. He realized that he had just been given a bogus mission in order to save him from last pick humiliation. That is how Gladys acquired a science fair partner for life.

Overhauling Overalls

Nurse Meme sat at the nurse’s station looking down the hall at the row of rooms that housed the elderly and infirm. She recognized some of the residents from various trips to the hospital where she was the nurse administrator others she recognized as once active members of the community. You see this wasn’t Nurse Meme’s usual tour of duty. She was doing a favor for a friend and taking the weekend Director of Nursing spot at the retirement home which was not so much a retirement home as much as it was just an old time nursing home. The ravages of time had taken most of these lovely souls into a new dimension of life. One they did not ask for nor did they anticipate.

She joked with the staff and passed on tidbits of good tidings to the residents as she checked charts and dispensed medications. Then she looked up to see Mrs. Glemson coming up the hall. Mrs. Glemson was in the early stages of dementia. She would have perfectly lucid days and then she would have days when she was an enigma. While Mrs. Glemson’s dementia was all too real Nurse Meme sometimes wondered if she slipped off into her own world to get away from Mr. Glemson. You see it was Nurse Meme’s observation that Mr. Glemson had brow beaten his wife their whole married life. It looked like today was enigma day. Mrs. Glemson approached the desk and made her greetings “hello Daisy” she said to Meme. “Mrs. Glemson you look cute in your overalls. My name is Meme not Daisy. What can I do for you?” replied Meme. “Well darling, “Mrs. Glemson rushed on saying “I’m a right bit hungry. I’ve been out plowing all morning and I could use some flapjacks and eggs. You gonna get me some coffee or am I gonna have to rustle it up myself?” Meme smile and looked at the other nurses and said “I’ve got her. I’ll be back.” Then she turned to Mrs. Glemson and said “Why don’t you let me buy you a cup of coffee and let’s see what they have for breakfast in the cafeteria.”

Nurse Meme came around the desk and took Mrs. Glemson by the hand and then stopped. She got closer to Mrs. Gleason and did the move that millions of mommies of babies do everyday. She took a big whiff and then pulled Mrs. Gleason overalls out a little. “Oh, Mrs. Glemson! I think we may need to go change your clothes. I think you’ve had an accident.” Mrs. Glemson looked through her 2 inch thick glasses blinked her eyes and then said “Wail, what you expect? I’ve been plowing behind Ole Betsy all morning, I’m sure I stepped in horse shit somewhere.” Nurse Meme patted her on the back and said “Well you stepped in something” as she walked her to her room to change her clothes. Nurse Meme and Billie, the aide, helped Mrs. Glemson get cleaned up and put on fresh clothes, then Billie escorted her to the cafeteria to as Mrs. Glemson put it tie on the old feed bag. Nurse Meme went back to the desk to take care of some more paperwork.

An hour or so had passed when Nurse Meme looked up to see Mr. Glemson standing at the nurse’s station. Mr. Glemson was the type of man that not only brow beat his own wife but felt all women inferior to his manly manliness. He was in short a bully. Nurse Meme smiled and asked “Good day Mr. Glemson. What can I do for you?” Mr. Glemson snorted and snarled “Nuthin good about it! I want something to eat. I ain’t ate yet and I’m hungry. Go fix me something.” Nurse Meme called over to Billie and she came to help Mr. Glemson to the cafeteria. Nurse Meme came around the desk in an effort to guide him towards the dinning hall. Billie looked at Meme and they both looked at Mr. Glemson. “Mr. Glemson, did you have an accident?” He moved away from the women and in pure indignation spat out “NO. I HAVE NOT!” Billie moved close to Mr. Glemson and said “Mr. G you smell as if you have had a B.M. Let’s go get you cleaned up.” Mr. Glemson struck out at Billie and said “you stay away from me. I ain’t done no such a thing.” Then he started sniffing his clothes. Billie looked at Nurse Meme and then back at Mr. Glemson and said “Mr. G where did you get those overalls?”
Mr. Glemson hitched up his pants and said “They were in the basket by the door. Theys mine I didn’t steal them if that’s what you’re implying.” Nurse Meme stifled a giggle and said “Mr. Glemson, your wife had those on earlier. She had a b.m. in them and we put them in the dirty clothes basket.” Mr. Glemson's face turned red and then purple and the two nurses thought that he was about to have an apoplexy right there in the foyer. Then he stomped down the hall screaming “That OLD BITCH SHIT IN MY OVERALLS AGAIN.” Nurse Meme followed him fearing what he might do to his wife. She glanced in the dinning hall to see Mrs. Glemson sitting sipping her coffee and stifling her giggles. That’s when Nurse Meme had to question just how much she was actually suffering from dementia and how much she was just getting even.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

What Trooper Ray Found

Growing up listening to Trooper Bob’s stories over the years there was always plenty of humor. He would try and find the funny in some of the most morose and down right awful situations. Truth be told both my parents were like that. They both worked in jobs where they often saw the worse of the worst and the nasty of the nastiest. I am sure that was a defense mechanism and I’m also sure it was a way in which to teach us kids that you can get through anything with a bit of humor.

“Look at that Ray,” Trooper Bob said pointing up at the full moon, “Looks like we are in for a busy night.” Trooper Ray tilted his hat back on his head and looked up at the moon lit sky and said “Yeup, there always seems to be more crazies out there during a full moon.” The troopers both had seen it over dozens of full moons the lunar tidal pool of crazy during what the Italians call Luna piena. For some reason or another full moons effect the internal waters much like the tides in the ocean and there is a stirring and an unsettling in people. The emergency rooms seem to have more dog bites and traffic accidents seem to increase. They not only increase in numbers but also in intensity.

The troopers got into their cruiser and drove out of town towards their usual post. They cruised past several of the local ice houses. Now for those of you who are not familiar with Texas; an ice house was a multi-cultural meeting place that not only supplied ice but also beer, a few groceries and even acted as the local tavern. They often had impromptu bands that would play and a checker board and plenty of dominoes. The gang at the ice-house appeared to be a little rowdier than usual but again it was written off to the lunar phase. They drove on out past the feed lot and down the farm to market road heading towards the moon lit fields.

The troopers drove along chatting about the local gossip and telling the latest jokes when a call come from dispatch “Car 76 we have a 10-50 out on FM 78” Trooper Bob keyed his mike and returned “10-4 dispatch we are in route” and with that Trooper Ray turned on the light and the siren (Sigh-Reen) because that code meant it was a traffic accident with possible fatalities.
The troopers screamed through the country side and came upon what appeared to be a big rig pulled to the right of the road with flares set out. They slowed to a stop and both grabbed emergency kits and flashlights. Trooper Ray and Trooper Bob had worked together long enough that they just moved, they didn’t discuss what they were going to do next, they just knew. Trooper Bob went to the visibly shaken truck driver and Ray went to the bridge over the creek. Trooper Bob assessed the situation and figured by the fact the trucker didn’t have any blood on him and didn’t smell like shit that he had not been involved in the accident. “I sawed him. He was looney! He came round that there cerner going lickity-split he was a weaving all over the road and then all-a-sudden they was a screechin and a screamin and that car went up in the air bout 50 feet. The next thing I knowed the car just disintegrated. It was awful officer just awful.” The trucker regurgitated his story like a drunk after an all nighter. The words poured out of him as he purged his story to Trooper Bob. “Ok, sir, we will need to get a statement from you. Did you see anyone exit the vehicle?” Trooper Bob asked the trucker. “Yesir, he exited and flew up in the air did a bunch of flips and flops. I aint sure whar he landed” the trucker replied.

Troopers Bob and Ray took their flashlights and started canvassing the area for any survivors. They looked along the highway where the car exited the road the full moon helped light the accident scene and yet they found no sign of the driver. The shone their lights up in the trees and all around. Ray drew the short straw and he got to descend the embankment to the most assuredly water moccasin invested creek. Trooper Bob being followed closely by the anxious trucker walked up the highway looking. Then in the distance he heard his partner cry “Bob! Come here quick!” Knowing that it must be something really important Bob ran again with the trucker in tow to the bridge over water moccasin creek. He looked down to see Ray holding up a boot. Trooper Bob said “What is it Ray?” Trooper Ray waggled the boot so that Bob could see it in the moonlight and said “I found a boot.” A little confused as to why this was important Trooper Bob said “Why is that so urgent?” Trooper Ray let out an audible sigh and said “Because it has a foot in it.” Trooper Bob tried to hold it back he bit his lip then his tongue. He rubbed his face but the lunar looney tide pulled at his sense of the absurd. That is when the tension of the situation let loose and both the troopers got those inappropriate uncontrollable giggles.
Sometimes things are just so surreal all you can do is laugh.

*****I will be having another rousing round of Ask Trooper Bob next Thursday so leave your question and I'll get it to him. He will call me 47 times with different stories and questions and I'll post them here next week. So leave your questions, comments or suggestions. *****

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Let's Get It On

**Today's post will have visual aides with explainations to help my daddy understand it. You see he has aides. Hearing aides, Rol-aides etc..."
I am going to make a confession. Gladys is a technophobe. All things technical scare me. While I’m being honest most things electrical scare me. I’m not really sure why this is other than the fact that I have had my share of techno-incidents go here and read about my beloved Bertha getting V.D. What started this was Kahuna’s Christmas present. I purchased an IPod Nano for Kahuna for Christmas. He is not afraid of electronics but does get highly frustrated with them.
I decided to download some audio books on Kahuna’s Nano for his upcoming trip in the hurling vessel of death. I spent a good part of my evening downloading or uploading or whatever you call it his device with all kinds of fun music and educational information. It all worked like a charm and I truly felt I had mastered my fear of electronic devices. I in fact lorded my knowledge over Kahuna and gave him a short tutorial of how his new best friend operated. Now keep in mind, I do not have an IPod of my own nor have I have had one. So what the heck do I know?

**Daddy this is a Nano. It is an IPod and holds music, audio books and pictures. Some even have the ability to play movies. Although you would have to get your magnifying glasses out in order to watch them. You stick ear buds in your ears to listen to it. Ear-buds are sort of like the old headphones only much smaller and fit inside your ear like your hearing aides you don't wear.**

This morning I was helping Kahuna pack his things into the ginormous blue backpack and pulled out the IPod to go over the operation again. You know something of a refresher course. I hit the menu button and nothing happens. I started pushing this button and prodding that button in hopes that the little light would come on and give me a menu. Nothing happened. I frantically started rolling my finger around on the wheel. Still nothing happened. Kahuna ever helpful asked “What did you do to it?” I thought for a moment and replied “I don’t know maybe I forgot to eject it before I disconnected it.” As far as Kahuna knew I had just solved all the world’s problems but I was just pulling stuff out of my I mean head. I plugged it back into the computer and now the computer didn’t even recognize the Nano when just hours before they were intimate. They were exchanging computer-like-spit. They were interacting and reacting and having a discourse of computer intercourse. What was this some type of technology booty call? Bertha and Nano plugged in for a one night stand only? Where they just one time bit buddies?

**Daddy, A bit is a binary digit, taking a value of either 0 or 1. Binary digits are a basic unit of information storage and communication in digital computing and digital information theory. Information theory also often uses the natural digit...**

I plugged and unplugged. I matched up cord to port I plugged male into female and still nothing. Finally in my frustration I reached deep into my virtual vault of useless knowledge and remembered somewhere in the deep recess of the original Nano box and pulled out the directions. Now I know most of you wouldn’t even entertain the idea of reading the directions, but I was desperate. I read the directions and went through what I thought was the reset procedure. Again nothing happened. I got up and walked around the room chewed my fingernails and huffed and puffed and cussed unfortunately that didn’t help turn the Nano on. I sat down and Googled tech support for the Nano. I read and read and read some more I asked questions of the on-line support and still no answers.

** Daddy, Directions are defined as: Usually, directions. instruction or guidance for making, using, etc.: directions for baking a cake**

I finally took the Nano and turned it over in my hand and low and behold the angels sang and the trumpets blared. I saw a little switch at the top of Nano. Cautiously and with great trepidation my finger traveled over the switch. It was tiny just the size of the head of a straight pin. I took my almost non-existent chewed to the nub from frustration fingernail and flipped this tee-tiny switch. Ta-DAH! The light came on the Menu appeared and I was able to operate Nano.

So I guess that Bertha and Nano were not just a one night stand. I surmised that Nano was just on hold or not in the mood so to say. Nano was now ready to be inserted into Bertha and begin another round of data swapping. What do you ask was I downloading? Marvin Gay's"Let's Get It On" of course.

** Daddy, Marvin Pentz Gay, Jr.,[1] better known by his stage name Marvin Gaye (April 2, 1939 – April 1, 1984) was an American singer-songwriter and instrumentalist with a three-octave vocal range.[2] Starting as a member of the doo-wop group The Moonglows in the late fifties, he ventured into a solo career after the group disbanded in 1960 signing with the Tamla subsidiary of Motown Records. After a year as a session drummer, Gaye ranked as the label's top-selling solo artist during the sixties

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Just the Facts Week Ending 2/11/2009

*I have had several people ask if these are real calls. Yes they are and I have written them verbatim from the Flathead Beacon. I look forward to the weekly publication’s Police Blotter. It also has many interesting headlines and article that I’m sure you would not see in the New York Times.

There are a million stories in the city.


"The story you are about to hear is true; only the names have been changed to protect the innocent.")

The Flathead Beacon:
Police Blotter for the week ending 2-11-09

A sampling of crime briefs from the Kalispell Police and Flathead County Sheriff’s reports…by Julius Macker (comments by Gladys)

Tuesday 2/03/2009

12:45 p.m. A drummer was too loud for a neighboring Montana Highway 82 espresso stand.

A little too much caffeine?

1:08 p.m. Two 19 year old females were caught stealing shampoo, conditioner, stationary and notebooks.

Well at least they were stealing items to keep clean. I mean it’s not like they were stealing wine coolers and pregnancy test.

4:59 p.m. A man’s ex won’t leave him alone. She has been calling him since the couple broke up- four years ago.

Can you say “Fatal Attraction”? Mr. You might want to keep your bunny in a safe place, I’m just sayin.

Wednesday 2/05/2009

9:00 a.m. Someone wanted a deputy to look at a letter they had received.

Remember in the Michael J. Fox movie “Doc Hollywood” when the couple come to see him not for medical reasons but because neither one of them can read? Yeah and the letter was about Ellen and the Pakistani? I picture something like that going on here.
The Deputy: Then it says here that Margret met the man on the subway. I guess that would be the one that runs under the city. Yeah they got these trains that run UNDER New York City. Then she goes on to say....

10:42 a.m. A woman repeatedly tried to reach a man on Dorothy Road, but he was sleeping.

For the love of Gravy!
Let the man sleep in! He was probably out late trying to ski down Big Mountain in his Dodge or something.

Friday 2/06/2009

1:40 p.m. Someone broke their ankle at a barbecue joint.

Wow someone gets aggressive eating ribs.

Saturday 2/07/2009

11:14 a.m. An office building on Main Street in Kalispell smelled like gas.

Someone must have had beans with their BBQ!

Monday 2/09/2009 (Looks like crime took Sunday off)

1:18 a.m. The Alcohol enforcement team went to a party on Three Mile Drive. They weren’t invited, but ended up taking someone with an outstanding warrant with them.

First of all how cool is that? There is a team out there that enforces alcohol consumption. Do they watch you drink and tell you which alcohol to drink and how fast?

Second they crashed the party?

Third, hey everyone knows no one parties like someone with an outstanding warrant so I would have taken him with me too.

4:23 a.m. There was a party at a lodge on Big Mountain Road. Authorities couldn’t find it.

Of course they couldn’t find it. They were at the party on Three Mile Drive.

11:15 a.m. One juvenile female stole two wine coolers. Her friend stole two boxes of pregnancy tests and a box of condoms.

I spoke too soon on Tuesday. See this makes perfect sense to me. Wine coolers, pregnancy test and condoms. I’m a juvie, I’m going to get drunk on a wine cooler and have protected sex but make sure I didn’t get pregnant. Yeup sounds like those two are thinking right.

3:55 p.m. A transient, who goes by the name of “DJ Number Five,” was asked to leave the parking lot of an evergreen retailer. He did so on his bicycle.

Wait what happened to DJ one through 4?

5:30 p.m. A man was seen vomiting in the parking lot of a Bigfork grocery store located next to a bar, was gone when authorities arrived.

Um the fact that he was next to a bar gives us a little clue as to why he was vomiting.

6:17 p.m. A man, who had been drinking locked himself in the bathroom of an Evergreen laundry mat.

Ok, either DJ Number Five has found a place to bed down for the night or I have found the vomiting man.

9:36 p.m. A man, who looked to be in his 50s, was hanging around Blacktail road. His bike was broken.

Wow DJ Number Five sure gets around.
Sergeant Joe Friday: By the way, what do you do for a living?
Systems Analyst: I'm a systems analyst, myself.
Sergeant Joe Friday: Oh? What's a systems analyst do?
Systems Analyst: I analyze systems.
Sergeant Joe Friday: Makes sense.

Monday, February 16, 2009

The Extraordinary Correspondence of Gladys and Furong

Several years ago I read a series of three books called The Extraordinary Correspondence of Griffin and Sabine. It was about a man and woman who corresponded over time. Sabine and Griffin mysteriously corresponded through something of a time warp. Over the course of the trilogy of books they tried to meet up but for some cosmic reason they never could. It was a collection of beautiful letters between a Postcard designer in London and a stamp designer in the South Pacific. The writing was quite beautiful and I thoroughly enjoyed them. Then I started thinking about this email I received.

~~Re: urgent- email
Dear friend,
I have a business deal in my bank value at 21.5Million us dollars, as a foreigner l can present you as the beneficiary to the inheritance since there is no written name for the inheritance l am Mr Zhang Furong an Executive director working with Industrial and Commercial Bank of China (ICBC),I would provide you with all the necessary documents to lay claims and also I would avail you with the modalities we shall follow once I hear from you. If you are interested, kindly get back to me with your full contact information's and phone number via my private email or call me Upon your response l will give you more details about this transaction, if not interested you can delete this mail.
Regards,Mr Zhang Furong

What if I were to start an Extraordinary Correspondence with Mr. Zhang Furong. How would it go? I mean the art of letter writing is almost lost what with emoticons and text talk. I’m thinking it would be something like this.

Yo Homie,
Wasup? So you be in Chinette? That’s cool! So you got some bling and you need me to hold it for you til you can get it here for yourself? Fo shizzle? No problems J I will gladly take your $$$ and mke it iron clad. I am like all Wow here that you wld contact me. Did you find me on Facebook? Myspace? Twitter? I googled your name and this is what I found.

“Furong Zhang serves as Vice President of Banking Accounting Society of China and Deputy Director of Financial Planning Standards Council of China. Mr. Zhang served as the Vice President of Industrial and Commercial Bank of China Ltd. since October 2005. Mr. Zhang joined Industrial and Commercial Bank of China in 1984. He served in several positions at ICBC including Vice President of ICBC Liaoning Branch, President of ICBC Dalian Branch, Assistant to President of ICBC
So, like, I know your legit, cause if it's on the internet it real.
I told my friends on Facebook about you and they are all like, ROFL and shit. I think your cool and won’t be deleting you from my lists of friends.
So like let me know wht you be needing and shit. K?

Do you think I could get my correspondence bound and printed? Do you think hundreds of thousands would rush out and buy my book of emails between me and the mysterious Mr. Furong?

Sunday, February 15, 2009

The Curse of the Haunted Money Pit

Over at To the Manner Born he spoke of his haunted house. He also spoke of the fact that sometimes one just knows when a house is “their house”. I watched the movie “Feast of Love” last night and in it they speak of a house being ‘cursed’.
I told the story of the “Haunted Money Pit here” and now I’m going to tell you how I came to own the HMP.

It was years ago and I was merging several households together. I had 4 houses full of furniture and neither I nor the man in my life at the time were willing to give up any of our belongings. Isn’t it awful how we hold on to things? Any way I looked and looked and looked for something that would accommodate all our needs. I went through every real estate book, newspaper and friends to try and find a house that was in my price range and suitable to the man I thought was “Mr. Wonderful” at the time.

My real estate agent called me one cold February day and said that he had found a house that he thought would fit the bill. He gave me the address and told me to take a drive by it and see. I drove to the historical section of town. There along the drive stood stately old mansion houses and quaint 1920’s cottages. I turned down the boulevard and there on the corner stood a big neoclassical brick home. It had giant azalea bushes on either side as well as big Camilla bushes. It looked a little worse for wear but hey it fit my budget. I arranged to see the inside of the house and started planning what to plant in the large concrete planters on the steps.

The day we did the walk through I was suitably impressed by several things. One of which was the size of the rooms. They were plenty big for the oversized furniture that I would be combining into these rooms. I was very unimpressed by the owner’s decorating taste. She had flat black walls everywhere as well as murals painted in various rooms that well were to be honest a bit on the disturbing side. I took all of this in and made an offer. I low balled the offer because honestly I knew it was going to be a lot of work. My agent submitted the offer and sure enough within several hours the owners came back with an approval. This should have been my first sign that there was something not quite right about this house.

I had a complete inspection preformed and it checked out sound, the plumbing and electrical in code and the foundation in good shape. Only the house leaned a little. I had an engineer come out and make sure it was truly sound. He told me that he thought the house had in fact done most of it’s settling sometime in the 1930’s when there had been a terrible drought in the area. He said that everything was stable and the foundation was thick and in better shape than most new houses built in the area. So the deal proceeded.

The day of the closing finally came and I went to the attorney’s office to meet for the first time the “sellers”. I walked into the conference room and there sat a man, a woman and another older woman. The tension was so thick I needed a machete. I sat down at the conference table and the older woman gave me a piercing stare and said “Are you sure you wish to buy this house?” I looked at the strange woman and thought did the sellers bring their own voodoo woman? I smiled at her and said “That’s why I’m here.” She pierced me with her unnaturally blue eyes and said “Well, then it’s on you now” then she snorted and sort of spit and continued to stare a hole right through me. Farther down the table sat a man in his early 50’s with a fixed gaze much like a zombie. He never looked directly at me nor did he seem to be looking at anything in particular. I thought that maybe he had gone a little heavy on his Xanax. On the other side of the table sat a woman who was in her late 40’s or early 50’s. She had dark circles under her eyes and just sat and looked at her hands in front of her on the table. There was no return greeting when I said hello, there was no acknowledgement there was only the freaky voodoo like lady who would not stop staring at me.

My agent and the attorney appeared at the door and rescued me from the burning gaze of the voodoo woman and actually inspired a response from both the other sellers. We began the closing proceedings. I had visited the house the day before the closing in order to get some measurements and have some contractors give me estimates on paint and repairs. I had noticed upon my visit that every single light fixture had been removed from the house as well as the upstairs shower floor tile had been torn out. I thought this was odd and needed to be addressed in the closing.

When the attorney asked if there were any amendments or additions to the contract I spoke up. “I have an issue with the fact the house is now missing all of the light fixtures as well as it seems the upstairs shower stall has been vandalized. I think the fixtures should be returned and there should be an allowance for the shower.” Surprised both the agent and the attorney looked at me and then at Mr. Zombie and Ms. Hand. I heard a hiss and knew without looking it had come from the voodoo woman. I stumbled on “there is also the issue of the garage apartment. It seems the tenant was to vacate and it appears he has not.” I heard another hiss and then a growl. I looked at Mr. Zombie and he had not changed his expression. I turned to look at Ms. Hands and she sucked in a long ragged breath and continued to stare at her hands. I wondered what the heck was going on here. Then I gathered my courage and said “I am going to have to demand that the items be made right or the deal is dead.” I had no idea if I had the right to do this but hey it was worth a try. There must have been 40 light fixtures and who the heck knew what the deal was with the shower. The garage apartment wasn’t that big a deal but I thought I would throw it in for good measure.

That’s when I heard what sounded like a screeching howl from the voodoo woman. She stood up and pointed a craggy finger at Ms. Hand. She screamed “you bitch. You have ruined everything in my son’s life. You have left him a broken and empty shell of a man. You are the devil and you will burn in hell.” This actually woke Mr. Zombie up who grabbed the voodoo woman’s hand and barked “Mother! SIT DOWN!” He all but forced the voodoo woman into her seat. Ms. Hand sat still looking at her hands and sucking in air like a fish out of water. The attorney looked at the agent then at me and said “Alrighty then let’s see if we can get a resolution on this and get this deal wrapped up.” He addressed Mr. Zombie and said “Do you have any objection to returning the light fixtures?” Mr. Zombie opened his mouth to answer when the voodoo woman again stood up and screeched “She took them! That bitch took them. Get them out of her.” Ms. Hand looked up at the voodoo woman and spit out “you crazy old woman! I bought and paid for every one of those fixtures. They are mine. You pay for them and I’ll return them.” With this the voodoo woman jumped across the table ready to snatch any part of Ms. Hand and tear her to shreds.

I sat and watched in totally amazement. It was as if I were in an episode of Jerry Springer or Maury. Mr. Zombie wrestled his mother back into her chair once again and said to the attorney. “No I have no objection. Give her whatever. Let’s just get this over with.” The voodoo woman then turned on her son and screamed. “This is MY money. I bought this house for YOU and now she is just giving it all away. She ruined our lives and now you are letting her take all MY money.” This continued through the rest of the signing until checks were exchanged and papers were signed.

Mr. Zombie herded the voodoo woman out the door to be followed by Ms. Hand who still had not acknowledged mine or anyone else presence. The room grew silent and I sat finishing going through the final buyer’s paperwork. The attorney looked at me and then at the agent and said “It’s a shame really.” I looked up at the attorney hesitantly wondering if he meant me buying this house and said “What is a shame?” He drew a long breath and said “That whole situation. You see Mr. Zombie’s mother bought them that house four years ago when they got married. She gave it to them as a wedding present. Then about six months ago she stopped by for a visit and caught her daughter-in-law in a very compromising situation with the young man who was the tenant in the garage apartment. It was all down hill from there.” I thought her actions were a bit extravagant for the situation but said “oh, well, that must have been why she had such strong feelings about this.” The attorney smiled a knowing smile and said “Do you know who she is?” I sat for a moment racking my brain for some recognition of who she might be and came up with nothing. The attorney knowing I was lost said “That’s Mrs. Betterthanyou. You have probably seen her in all the social pages. She is very prominent here in town. This whole situation has really been an embarrassment for her.” I could have cared less who she was or what she had or hadn’t been through I just wanted to close on my house and get on with my move.
I walked out of the meeting much deeper in debt and a little overwhelmed by the whole ordeal when I heard someone call my name. “Ms. McGillicutty, over here” came the call. I looked up to see the voodoo woman standing by a planter smoking a cigarette. I smiled in polite acknowledgement and she motioned me over. I hesitantly approached. The voodoo woman grabbed my arm and in a conspiratorial tone said “the house you just bought is cursed. Your tenure there will end badly. It has been cursed since the day it was built.” I smiled that patronizing smile you give people when you know they are crazy and I patted her arm and said “thank you so much for the information. I will take that under advisement.” She looked directly in my eyes and said “you don’t understand. I was like you and thought this curse stuff was all a bunch of horse hockey. Then I saw the horrors that came from that house I am telling you get out of that house as fast as you can.”

I have to tell you I didn’t heed her warning. I didn’t even believe a house could be cursed or have negative energy. I should have listened. I should have heeded her warning and had the house exorcised or yoga-ed or saged or whatever you do to get rid of a curse. She was right the house was cursed. Every family who lived in that house came to an unkind unhappy end, even mine.