Tuesday, August 18, 2015
Played Out
The Big Exhaustion
When Smitty caught The Big Exhaustion, he stayed home and
watched familiar reruns. Soon he switched off the TV and
recited the scripts by heart.
Then, he rewrote them until they morphed into entirely different
shows. Thus, Gilligan’s Island became Mother Knows Worst.
At any rate, he amused himself. Those who didn't passed.
But there were no funerals because the undertakers had BE also.
Just about nobody went to work, though he tried again and again.
Luckily, his automated train kept running. But when he did finally
get to the office, he was alone mid computers all set to search
The Big Exhaustion. No cure, of course, regardless of the health
whackos and their exotic juices. Others averred you’d need gold
bars to buy your way to care.
Those juices abandoned at the office were tasty enough, but useless.
When Dilly Hotz managed to make it in, long dormant thoughts
visited him.
And her. But, no go. Both just tired out of their minds.
They lost track of each other when dogs invaded the company and
ate the envelopes.
It took him two days to walk home through empty streets because
the train just stopped and no one could stir to repair it.
Now only the Southern Stupid shows played on TV, and he proved
too finished to try rewriting their drivel.
So, he turned off the sound and just watched the girls.
Banners across the bottom of the screen announced the authorities
were trying to meet.
Also that The Big Exhaustion had simply quit New Zealand.
And people swarmed the streets and lanes!
America's turn would come. Heading our way!
Hawaii sparked up soon after. Aloha Moments everywhere.
He smashed into the 7-11. Took hours, and only Rice Crispies
remained.
His farts smelled like rice, but it wasn’t all that bad.
Finally, Smitty relented and rewrote the Southern Stupid shows
as Travelogues For Morons. He called it his Southern Strategy.
When NFL took over every channel to replay Bruk Utzler receiving
Lineman of the Week around 2000, Smitty did a video awarding
himself Weak Man of the Line.
Then he pondered: Had Dumbing-Down been the first condition
allowing The Big Exhaustion to take root?
All large questions on hold as The Big Exhaustion suddenly ceases!
Laughter everywhere, and people screaming at their kids!
Smitty decides to do parodies of his parodies, knowing that
never works.
Labels: cynicism, dumb down, entertainment, exhaustion, NFL, parody, Southern, Southern Strategy, TV, video, working, writing
Saturday, April 25, 2015
His Bell
You couldn't report yourself as missing.
Someone had to miss you, and wonder where
you've gotten to, and, of course, seek the help
of the police.
He went about, expecting a cruiser's stopping,
its blue light spinning down to still.
He had dropped his wallet, probably watching
Omar and Celeste in the new ape enclosure.
Had climbed an old fretwork that the apes had
formerly used, but now outside their fancy one.
Nobody turned it in to Lost and Found.
Just as well, since he forgot his name, and someone
would surely have asked, thence checking driver's license.
Ricky and Elinor, God's New Gifts absolutely, took him
home and fed him, tried questions to jog his memory.
No go.
That night they went to Lefty's Paradise to watch
Giants-Eagle on TV.
There the Professor guessed he had graduated Harvard,
and his fresh companion, the ex chorus boy, opined he
had the quickness of an athlete or dancer.
“Good and healthy and strong!” remarked Sudsy, who
hired him on the spot to unload trucks, flu having swept
his small firm.
Strictly under the table, since no Social Security number.
So he had found friends, a neighborhood, a hangout,
and a job!...and a name, Chauncey, bestowed by the Professor.
Not bad for his first disconcerting day.
That late night on the daybed gracing the sun porch,
he tried to fit some things together.
No use, but he replayed the football game in acutest detail.
Maybe that was kind of key?
Beatrice got interested in his story. She despatched trucks,
and started bringing him lunch. They dated, and eventually
he left his cozy daybed for her cramped studio apartment.
“Believe me, Chaunce fills it up without yours truly!”
Beats had season tickets for the Jets, but had promised them
to others in her family, but not for any playoff games.
The Bengals coming in for the first round got Chauncey so
excited he could hardly speak.
The old man checking the ticket with some sort of wand cried,
"Buzz Ackley! and they couldn’t find YOU better seats than THESE?"
Ripper Collins later sought him out with his mike for the Jumbotron.
..."But I'm not sure I'm he."
"Well, I'm sure! That ‘he’ gives it away: Pure Yalie!"
He took him down to the field and the young players, of course,
couldn't recognize him, but the twin gray-bearded trainers,
Hip and Bix, hugged him together, and massaged his shoulders.
She worked her laptop that evening. "You live in Nutley," she
told him, "18 Appletree Lane, wife Cindy, girl at Trenton State,
boy in Air Force."
They drove there next day, and Cindy fainted.
Detectives Markham and Pesticci were present, making sure that
Beats’ cautious phone call to Cindy wasn’t a con, and knew how to
revive her. Too, they swabbed his mouth for DNA. They explained
that they kept his case from the media since they believed it
involved the Mafia taking over sports memorabilia.
“We expected you were wearing a cement overcoat at the bottom
of a polluted pond in The Meadowlands somewhere.”
Cindy proved completely sure, and needed no DNA, so Beats left.
In a couple of weeks, Buzz recalled almost everything, and the
couple invited Beats back. Cindy told her she'd love her forever!
She became Aunt Beats at Christmas etc. to the youngsters
back from college and the Air Force.
Cindy, strangely, never had a jealous bone.
All the characters in this story of forgetting are pretty
unusual.
Buzz has more than his share of where did I put my...?
but functions appropriately enough for his age.
The League is kicking in to a fund to help those like him.
“I do remember every SINGLE time on the field that my bell
was truly rung!”
Labels: Bengals, characters, DNA, Eagles, football, forgetting, friends, Giants, Jets, Meadowlands, NFL, relationship, wife
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Turn, Counterturn, and Stand--NFL
Turn
I'm here to speak a bit of Burmese Poetry.
...
Counterturn
What was that shit in there?
Stand
Coach wants some intellectual stuff, not
just football.
Counterturn
Yeah? Well I had enough of that in college!
Stand
You mean the rare times you went to class?
Counterturn
It was enough. Fuckin unsufferable!
Labels: NFL
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
NFL
Players want share
of additional funds
owners earn or extort.
Their retort: Uppity! Not,
too PR savvy for that.
Labels: Annals of Capitalism, Labor, labor negotiation, NFL
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Asking Joe Six-Pack
What’s Heaven?
Watching NFL forever!
What’s Hell?
Shopping with women.
Labels: Joe Sixpack, NFL, women
Tuesday, November 09, 2010
NFL
-We gotta temper the more vicious hits.
-Let boys be boys!
-Then you'll end up with a few in wheelchairs.
-Gangbusters! Wheel 'em out before games wrapped in flags,
with a littler one in their dicks.
Sunday, February 01, 2009
