Magazine Posts

Hello my child,
come sit on my knee,
was a phrase,
that used to be.
No longer appropriate,
in this day or time,
for "Social Distancing"
is now by design.
No longer the hugs,
that meant much to me,
now a "Social Distance"
is what the rules, be.

Someone I worked with
almost every day,
would come in asking of me,
a question or two.
My usual answer,
I would say "I don't remember,
but I'll look on my desk."
This happened many times,
not just a few.
She said to me with a very nice
smile, "I'll call you Al, short for
Alzheimer, if you keep saying
that.
In my defense I would find the
item we discussed, providing
the answer, that was my stead.
A long time ago. Now an old
friend. I'm the old one.
Thank you for your patience
over the years and thank
you for resuming the
friendship.

I write for you.
I write for me,
about the events,
these old eyes see.

The USS Marsh, DE 699
The ship of mine,
for two years of my service time.

My grandfather worked for the Kittitas County,
Reclamation District. His responsibility was
managing the water flow at the Whipple Creek
Pumping Plant, in Badger Pocket.
There were a series of ditches and canals
carrying water to the farming country, East
of Kittitas.
The Highline Canal, moved water from Lake
Easton through Kittitas County.
My grandfather and grandmother lived in a large
house, near the pumping plant.
My cousins and I would spend many a Summer,
when we were younger; pre teen.
The Highline Canal was up the hill from the
house. There was a spillway that brought
water down to a basin, the water moved via a
short canal to the pumping plant, where it
was pumped up another hill to a ditch that
was East of the pumping plants.
Surplus water would pass through the
pumping plant and was distributed to the flatter
land South.
My cousins and I would fish from the ditch
or swim in the water, below the pumping plant.
Great memories from so long ago.
We would go east of the house and gather
petrified wood. We put that around the flower beds.
I wonder if it is still there?

He bobs, he weaves, he spins around,
for Teflon Don is election bound.
He says what is needed, no surprise
but can't produce, so he lies.
The lies he says, come from within,
from a man whose purpose is to win.
If this is not OK with you,
in the coming election, please vote Blue.

Many flowers, colorful all,
will disappear before the Fall.

The challenges we have today,
are many and here they'll stay.
It won't get better; not your style,
but you'll soon be gone, in awhile.

The day has started
with a burning Sun.
I would enjoy the weather
if I were still young.

She was sweet, with manners refine.
She was my first love,
My Adeline.

Mind your manners, when out to dine.
Stay on the outside, when with ladies,
then you will be divine.
She taught me well
My Adeline.

Treat people with respect,
do that all the time,
she said to me,
my Adeline.

She raised me well;
my manners did shine,
Thank you Mother,
my favorite Adeline.

Long ago, some TV Programs the
Ponderosa, Quick Draw McGraw,
and Have Gun Will Travel. Paladin with
Richard Boone; Adult cowboy stuff.
My friend and I were enamored
with these "Western Adventures, so
we both purchased replicas of
the Colt revolver. He bought
a Colt Single Shot Revolver and
I bought a Ruger Single Six.
Both were caliber .22 Long Rifle.
We made our own holsters and
would practice "fast drawing", daily.
Not face to face but side by side.
We were young and dumb, not stupid.
I remember one day, on the RR Tracks,
by the River. No one present except the
two of us. This time we had "live" ammo.
I must admit that, as we stood side by side,
ready to "draw" that I was a tad
faster than my friend. On this occasion ,
we drew and he beat me. I looked
at my friend and his gun hadn't
cleared his holster. There was a
wisp of smoke coming from his holster.
We saw a small circle in the fine grit,
near the track, along side his foot,
where the bullet had struck.
I recall that being the last day
we had a "fast draw" event.
I miss my friend. He's been gone
quite a few years, but when I think
of that time, it brings a smile.
Farewell my friend, for it may be soon
when I join you in the proverbial
room, sharing these stories
from our past. Miss you Gary.

Tell me father.
Please tell me why,
all men who live,
may soon die.
The time for death
comes in many ways.
Some leave at night
others, in simple days.
Life is a precious journey,
towards a star,
of our choosing,
that's what we are.