The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

Posts tagged ‘odd’

Grandpa and the Aliens, Part I

Spaceships were landing in droves on Earth and I was feeling pretty unsettled about this. I found my grandpa who was asleep on the big comfy chair, the TV set to something boring, the remote locked in his hand.

I hesitated – I could wake grandpa up but what if I’ve just gone crazy and there aren’t really any spaceships? I decided double checking was in order.

I ran to a different door and sure enough there were spaceships coming down even in that area. But this time I noticed something different. Aliens of all kinds of shape and size were rushing out of their ships, I suppose it was rushing, all of them heading in one area. At first I thought they were rushing towards me, but it was only those who had landed behind the house who appeared to be coming towards me … They were going past us.

There was something in the distance these aliens were heading to, and I figured grandpa would want to know what it was too.

“GRANDPA?,” I shouted, having just closed the door behind me loudly. Slammed, you might say. Then I ran forward to the family room where he was stirring, “oh sorry,” I said much louder than necessary, “I didn’t know you were asleep,” each word coming out staccato like a machine gun. He was bound to be awake now.

“Hm,” grandpa mustered, looking at me with … eyes. I’d tell you what was behind those eyes but the emotions were hidden behind those sleep crusties.

“Um,” I didn’t know how much truth to give grandpa seeing as how he didn’t believe in aliens as far as I knew, “do you believe in aliens?”

Grandpa gave me a confused look. It didn’t look like he was about to answer, so I guess maybe his opinion wasn’t as simple as a yes or no but a more complicated answer involving probabilities and the great unknown that is Earth and so how could we possibly know what is outside our little world?

“Well, anyway,” I continued, not wanting to miss whatever alien spectacle was occurring, “I think a neighbor had a bad accident. Cutting down a tree or something. Lost a limb.” At this point I was continuing not to get grandpa moving but to see if his eyes could get any wider, “Lots of blood. Neighbors dog might have that limb and be playing tug-of-war with it.” Whoops. Too far. Grandpa’s forward progress faltered as he tried to determine if I was lying, he was hovering above the comfort of the magical nap-chair, “so … we should probably go help. Right?”

I opened the door first and said casually over my shoulder, “oh look, spaceships,” I looked back and grandpa gave a sort of disappointed look at the skyline full of spaceships which were, presumably, looking for parking.

“Where’s the neighbor?” grandpa said after giving the skyline what he considered was its due consideration, “huh?” I asked, having no idea what he was talking about and, “ohhh yeah … the neighbor,” I remembered my lie, “um, I lied. I just wanted you to see the space ships.”

“Hm,” grandpa grunted. Apparently me lying and me waking him up to see countless alien visitors warranted roughly the same reaction. Not everyone is capable of projecting such consistency but grandpa’s a unique guy.

“Should we walk down to see what’s going on?” I was really hopeful he would be ok with this, because that’s what I wanted to do.

This time grandpa deviated from the script, giving a “hmmm” with several extra m’s than usual. He said this and then turned around and walked right back into the house. I waited, figuring he would return with a reason not to go or a gun. I was pretty sure grandpa wouldn’t have a gun in the house until this moment, when for the first time it made perfect sense that we would have a gun.

Instead of a gun, grandpa returned with a pan and a five pound bag of granulated sugar and a ziplock bag of an indeterminate amount of brown sugar. He handed me a spoon and kept one for himself, and then we began walking forward.

I stole a glance at my grandpa who may or may not have been feeling the same, but he had stuck his hand into the bag of brown sugar and was pulling some out to eat. He proffered the bag to me and I gladly accepted. I’m not sure what in life is best at steeling the nerves, based on movies it’s alcohol but this sugar had me feeling pretty good.

Some aliens were soon flanking us, moving along in their various ways of transporting themselves forward. This was somehow as natural as a mass of humanity heading to a sporting event. No, more than that, a home sporting event. Somehow every creature moving along had a sense of hope, everything in me told me I was going to an exciting event surrounded by friendly strangers with the same hopes and expectations.

I wondered if one of the aliens had some mental manipulating ability to make me at ease when I really should have been fleeing, every pore of my body shouting words that communicate fear. I thought my having gone crazy was equally likely, but with the solid presence of my grandpa chugging along right beside me I figured everything was ok.

Who better to go nuts with then a man who had naps and corn on the cob as his favorite things. Grandma might disagree with my list.

The Proud Coach

I’m proud of these boys. They fought hard. They never thought about quitting. They just thought about the next guy on the team and what they could do to help.

Heck, half of them don’t even know their names but if you ask them to play their hearts out they’ll do it without a second thought.

That guy over there would take a bullet for any of his teammates, but ask him a simple question?, well, you’ll find that he can only communicate with an intricate series of grunts. A language all his own.

I love these guys. They never say die. They don’t know the meaning of quit. Several of them eat rocks almost daily because they don’t understand simple food consumption. But if I could coach anyone, I wouldn’t have it be anyone but them.

With the game on the line, heck, I’m spoiled. I’ve got a few folks I wouldn’t hesitate to call on. This guy, to my right, he thinks that I’m his imaginary friend but talk about clutch. And to my left, this guy is all business, after I pick out his clothes for the day.

I’m a proud coach. I’ve got a great team and we were this close to being champs. We’ll be back next year for another try at this thing. Now if you’ll excuse me I’ve got some hugs to give and diapers to change.

Go team, go.

Welcome to Houston, coach. Houston, keep on keeping on it that ‘L’ column.

Green Light, Red Light

A child is given a bicycle and as a consequence is filled with joy. Later that day the bicycle is stolen.

A teenager is waiting anxiously to get back a test to see the grade. A test is delivered to their desk with a grade of 97, inwardly this young adult is beaming, with such pride and relief that the individual fails to recognize that the name on the top of the test is not theirs. When the mistake is corrected a grade of 72 is what is greeting this poor soul.

A young adult is told of a new position at work that will involve more responsibility, more exposure and more pay. The ambitious young worker looks forward to the position with concern but an attitude full of eagerness and desire to prove oneself. The position is instead given to a relative of the manager.

Nearing the twilight of a long and fruitful career, a well-handled mid-life crisis leads one individual to finally buy an affordable dream home. The seller finds a renewed love of their home when seeing the way the potential buyer sees the home, and reneges on the deal.

You are sitting in traffic and the first car at the light is still just sitting there, WHAT IS YOUR DEAL GUY, at a green light, ARE YOU SERIOUS GO!?, maybe this person is used to the old adage, “The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.”

Green Light, Red Light.

But seriously dude, let’s go, I know drivings not a race but you are driving me batty here. Oh great it’s already yellow.