Fearful or Fearless? You Tell Me

Here’s the conundrum—my small dog,

she barks at everything, a noise from the

tenant upstairs, other dogs on TV,

even the cutest puppies. She barks at

elephants and walruses too. And she’s

a TV junkie, so I can’t watch the Animal

Planet. And the goddamned other channels

air too many commercials featuring cats

and horses and pigs. I have to be quick on

the remote to avoid an uncontrollable barking

frenzy. My pup barks at the lawn service

doing their job, a casual neighbor walking

by. She is a serial barker, and there is little

or nothing I can do. Is she fearless or fearful?

How can one tell? Fearful perhaps at what

she can hear and see, and unlike me, fearless

when it comes to COVID-19, the unseen viral

enemy. I’d have to deal with non-stop incessant

barking if she could see at all the casualties. I

get pissed watching Trump proclaim victory

over the pandemic on TV. Even when I don’t

see him, the mere thought him repulses me.

Due to more than a two month delayed

acknowledgment and response to the Corona-

virus, Trump is responsible for thousands of

lives lost. And that is some shameful and scary

shit indeed. Be afraid, Mankind, be very afraid!

Thank God my dog doesn’t see.

                                         -30-

Chris Hanch 4-30-2020

Disenfected

I heard Andrew Cuomo, Governor of New York, speak on MSNBC

today. He has a plan for disinfecting all mass transit vehicles in and

around New York City due to the COVID-19 pandemic virus. All

vehicles (trains, buses and terminals) will be disinfected every 24-hours.

Imagine all doors, seats, walls hand rails, turnstiles, every conceivable

nook and cranny a hand or sneeze could possibly land. A huge, an

immense, an unbelievably colossal undertaking for a metropolitan

area of some 20-million inhabitants not including the millions of

daily visitors and transients. Granted commuters and other traffic

have been greatly reduced given the shelter in place restrictions,

but still, the Governor said it was not going to be easy. The safely

of people he is responsible for is paramount. My mind was blown

at the magnitude of such a project. I haven’t had my modest studio

apartment mopped, dusted and vacuumed in months. Why hell, at

seventy-three, a shower for me wastes a whole day’s energy. Even

so, I’m still nowhere near being disinfected clean.

                                          -30-

Chris Hanch 4-30-2020

A Generous Evaluation

Given my age—seven decades plus three years,

given my condition—worn out limbs, and wobbly

afoot, given the long, wobbly and tiresome way negotiated

to get here, given the souring of attitude and blurriness

of vision, given senses of taste, smell and hearing

reduced and impaired, and recall of memory reduced

to a snail’s pace, given pained, grimaced and furrowed conditioning

of face, I still somehow manage to get about, albeit unsteadily, from

one room to the other with the assist of my cane.

And given today as opposed to yesterday, knowing that there

is no longer room for improvement, I am gratified and

encouraged if I notice very little change.

So, I dare say to myself, don’t peer into the mirror. That

other son of bitch staring back at you shall likely disagree

with your hypothetically generous evaluation.

                                                       -30-

Chris Hanch 4-30-2020

My Greek Retreat

Soon after leaving Santorini, Greece in 1988, I gave some serious

thought to returning and spending more time. It’s a lovely place,

old world charm, majestic Aegean Sea, traditional Greek food and

drink, music, dancing, far removed from the chain commercialism,

a refreshing respite, a change from the everyday hustle-bustle, hum

drum crazy of the USA. Besides, my grandfather came from Greece.

I might support myself doing caricatures of the tourists. Perhaps

I could assist at one of the local hostels and inns doing mainten-

ance and odd jobs. I’ve always had a romantic streak in me, and

this could be my ticket to realizing one of my wild exotic dreams—

sunny days on the beach writing my poetry, brilliant evening sun-

sets, fresh seafood to eat, copious amounts of retsina an ouzo to

drink, and lots of Greek music and dancing every night.

Funny how fantastic dreams never seem to include hardships invol-

ved with such a drastic move. Well, as it so often happens with pas-

sing time, I came to my senses and had a change of mind. Notice,

the key word here is, mind. I left me heart behind living my fanciful

dream in Santorini.

I returned to my boring 8 to 5 work routine in the good old USA. I did,

however, buy a Greek fisherman’s hat. And the local liquor store pro-

vided me with all the ouzo and retsina I could ever need. I bought a

couple of Manos Hadjidakis and Yanni CDs, purchased a small fan to

replicate a mild sea breeze, and cooked up some Dolmades and Mous-

saka to eat.

Granted all the substitutes don’t quite measure up to the genuine

article of Santorini, Greece, but when I scream “Opa!” from the top

of my lungs, the tenants in the apartment next door surely must be

wondering where in the world is that lunatic from? What can I say,

folks? It’s my inheritance; it’s part of me. It’s is in my blood, Greece!

                                                 -30-

Chris Hanch 4-29-2020

Mistaken Identity

Some days, I tell you. Something out of the blue catches

you completely off guard. How do you respond to a stranger

coming up to you and telling you that you look like someone

else he has seen many times before?

Must be the beard, I tell him. I don’t live around here. No,

not only that, he says, but same hair color, same weight and

height.

I suppose in a lineup, I say, you would likely finger me as

guilty, the guy who committed the crime?

You could be twins, he continues. Identical, he claims. Seen

the guy dozens of times, spittin’ image. You could double for

him in a movie.

Not me, though, I emphatically insist. I’m not from around

here. And I’m thinking, that other guy may not be jobless

like me...

Doesn’t have two kids and divorced from his first wife.

Probably doesn’t chain smoke, and picks his nose.

Didn’t drop out of high school at seventeen and join the Army.

And since then has worked half a dozen jobs, and can barely sleep

at night.

Bet he doesn’t self-medicate on pain killers and booze. Isn’t

depressed most of the time.

Suppose it doesn’t bother him to have people coming up to him

on the street and telling him he looks just like some other guy.

Now I’m thinking to myself, you have no idea what it looks like

to be me. A copy, an exact duplicate, a twin to me would be a

goddamn pity.

Instead, I give him a half-hearted smile, shake my head no, and

tell the poor fellow, sorry to disappoint, you’re mistaken, not me.

You’ve got the wrong guy.

Goodbye!

                                                               -30-

Chris Hanch 4-28-2020

Something About Relationships

With a better understanding and in the spirit

of getting along, I accept you for who you are.

What I expect of you is to be you. And in

return what you expect from me is acceptable

with you. That’s how our relationship is formed.

You prefer music from the 60s. I happen to

like the that too. When you play jazz, out of

my respect for you, I’ll listen to the same.

I learn to appreciate something new from you.

You came to understand and value classical

music from your exposure to me and my

passion for Beethoven and Copeland. Give and

take is part and parcel to the valued relationship

between you and me.

I’ll play Herbie Hancock and Miles Davis at my

place when you come to visit.

You spin some Mendelssohn and Brahms when

I visit with you in your place.

What a lovely understanding we share mutually.

Let me take you out for dinner on your birthday.

Do you prefer Italian or Chinese? My ex-wife

and I rarely if ever saw eye-to-eye.

She not only hated Beethoven, but left the room

when I pretended to conduct his Sixth Symphony.

Said I was acting stupid silly.

Chinese it is. Would you like to begin with the Pupu Platter?

                                   -30-

Chris Hanch 4-28-2020

From the Beginning

Hansel and Gretel dropped breadcrumbs showing

from where they had come. So, when they turned

around they could find their way back home.

The bloodhound is given an escaped convict’s

personal item to sniff, picks up the prisoner’s

scent and tracks him to the spot of his hiding.

Given written history, Alexander the Great can

be traced from childhood training throughout his

adult life and his conquests of the known world.

Frank Lloyd Wright left an indelible mark with his

architectural and designer’s trail of construction

across America.

Picasso’s artistic evolution can likewise be defined

from his earliest period throughout his long and

prolific career.

As a budding journalist on through his revelatory

autobiography, Mark Twain left the world with an

illustrious body of his travels and adventures.

Grandma and Grandpa may have told stories of

their past and left us with mementos saved along

the way. Although never famed in the annuls of

history, their legacy is a hereditary chronology which

leads to you and me. Leave a trail of breadcrumbs for

familial progeny yet to come. Hopefully they will

discover their heritage before the birds in time devour

every trace. Horse thief or king, everyone deserves to

know from whom and where they come.

Me, I got Grandpa’s Greek nose, an old photograph of

him, and thirteen Indian-head pennies.

                               -30-

Chris Hanch 4-27-2020

What I Had Become

As a boy, I thought I was Roy Rogers.

I had a hat, a holster and a gun.

When I grew a little older, I thought I was

a ball player. I had a bat, a ball and a glove.

When I was in my late teens I thought I was

a soldier. I swore an oath, wore the uniform

and trained for combat.

When I was nineteen, I married and had a child.

I thought myself a husband and father.

I got my first job, joined a union and thought

I was a factory worker.

I bought myself a car and a home. I believed,

and so I became a tax-payer and neighbor.

I went to church and became a god-fearing

religious man.

Years past, jobs came and went, and I became whatever

was required of me.

In middle-age, I had the crisis earmarked for me, and

with that I became a divorcee.

I became an alcoholic, and years later became

a recovering alcoholic.

I moved from town to town and lived in place

after place, became a salesman, an art director, a machine

operator, a newspaper man, a nursing home attendant,

a care-giver and delivery driver...

I became and became and became over and over again.

Eventually, I remarried and became a widower.

I became an atheist who dabbled in writing, photography

and the arts, vowing to never become again.

The years caught up to me, however, and I became

a crusty, curmudgeonly and disabled, old man

with lots of experience and mixed memories.

And here I am, what I have become today, that which

life had always intended for me—home alone, sheltered

in place with a lap dog for company.

The Roy Rogers’ period to begin with would have been

good enough for me. At least I had my imagination, a hat,

a holster and a gun.

                                             -30-

Chris Hanch 4-26-2020

A Searching Today (for You and All Who See)

A searching today, a Spiritual Awakening in me

for my Lewis and Clark, explorer of new worlds,

for my Neil Armstrong, first to step out onto the moon,

for my Curie and Pasteur, discovering a cure.

A searching today, a Spiritual Awakening in me

for my Mozart and Beethoven, composing symphonies,

for my Dickinson, Whitman and Angelou, penning poetry,

for my JFK and MLK, striving for justice, peace and unity.

A searching today, a Spiritual Awakening in me

for my Williams and Musial, hitting one out of the park,

for my Jordan and Bryant, flying and dunking with accuracy,

for my Mother Teresa and Albert Schweitzer, serving compassionately.

A searching today, a Spiritual Awakening in me

for my Jane Goodall and Francis of Assisi, lover of creatures

great and small,

for my Edison and Ford, seeker of light and ingenuity.

A searching today, A Spiritual Awakening in me

for my Sagan and Hubble, discoverer of Cosmic Universality,

for my Roosevelt and Cater, conservator and builder

of communities...

for my Yahweh, Krishna, Buddha, Muhammad, and

Christ, sharing a hopeful and prayerful

part of me with the Innovator and Creator in you

during these difficult and trying times of need.

                                 -30-

Chris Hanch 4-26-2020

Headline News

There was a bar on Grand Avenue across

the street from the Old Kansas City Star

Newspaper Building. I worked briefly for

the Star back in 1972 when newspapers

were still a thriving entity across the country.

That bar was a hangout for newsmen after

hours. (Many drank their lunch hours away

in that dim and musty place.) Back in the

day no one cared as long as you showed

up and got your work done on time. Re-

porters on the beat and columnist inter-

viewing newsworthy prospects made the

place a mecca for the Who’s Who in the

news. I’ve long since forgotten the name

name of the joint. Since the Star moved

its location in later years, and given the

slow demise of print media and the general

decline of businesses downtown, I’m pretty

sure that bar is no longer there. I wasn’t a

real newspaper man anyway. I sold display

advertising to mom and pop shops in Jackson

County for about six-months. My old boss, Dean

Lanning, once told me once that newsprint ink

gets into your blood. For me, however, it merely

rubbed off onto my hands which I had to wash

several times a day. I dropped into that bar a

few times back in the day. I usually had just one

or two drinks. My job required me to drive a lot.

Even though they weren’t testing legal limits in

those years, I’m pretty sure if pulled over, I may

have been considered too intoxicated to operate

a motor vehicle. Fortunately, I made it through

okay. In any case, there was never any Headline

News in Kansas City on account of me.

                             -30-

Chris Hanch 4-25-2020

More About Changes

Changes. I’ve talked and written about changes before.

And since then more changes have taken place, changes

in your face and mine. So much so that over time, we

surely would not recognize one another anymore. Upon

visiting my old neighborhood, the old and familiar have

been removed and summarily replaced with the so called

new—destruction and construction everywhere. I realize

this phenomenon of change has happened most everywhere

in the modern world today. I’m thinking of Athens, Greece

which I visited for the first time years ago. Even though the

Acropolis was a new sight to me, it is in ruins compared to

the way it used to be in 2000 BCE. New places, new faces,

vehicular traffic and congestion, tourist trade, pedestrian

parade, all the togas, public forums, clean and clear air have

disappeared. Plato and Socrates would not recognize the place

anymore. I feel your loss and dismay, my Greek brothers, for

me it is the same. In the neighborhood where I grew up, I may

as well be the ghost of time past who no one sees. It’s as if I

was never there, yet a flood of deja vu memories tells me I was.

And you must believe me, I beg of you, because no one else does.

The house where I once lived as a child is no longer there. And in

sadness and despair, one day all too soon, I too shall disappear.

                                      -30-

Chris Hanch 4-25-2020

Absentee

Spoke over the phone with Tiffany at the local Board of Elections.

I’m a registered voter in the County and I filled out the proper

Application for Absentee Ballot for the 2020 Presidential Election.

How can I get it to the right place? The website directing me is

too complicated and confuses me. I’m permanently disabled and

it would be convenient for me to e-mail it rather than send it by

the post office mail.

She gave me her e-mail address and said she would keep it on file

until it was time. So, I thanked her for her courteous assistance and

told her I had one more request. What would that be, she asked me?

Last time in 2016, I voted absentee and the wrong candidate won.

Anything you can do in the upcoming election to see that son-of-a-

bitch doesn’t win the next election too would be much appreciated.

You see, I’m old and disabled. And being that there are four years

between presidential elections, likely I won’t be voting in many more.

You know, I’d like to feel this time my vote counted for something.

Those last few lines were just an afterthought of mine. Actually,

Tiffany hung up after I had thanked her the first time.

                                                     

                                                              -30-

Chris Hanch 4-24-2020

One of Those Days

It was a day of green grass and all

that could be seen was concrete.

It was a day blessed by the sun, and everyone

remained hunkered down in the shade.

It was a day of tooth ache pain, and even

with ibuprofen there was no hope of relief.

On such a day busy beavers still built dams

and blocked the flow of streams,

the day roosters crowed at noon and chickens

without reason refused to cross the road.

Oh, there was that day when the anthem played

and everyone took a knee.

There was the day when shoes went untied, and

suede loafers took over the world.

That day, even though the race was run, no one

crossed the finish line.

Remember the day children refused to

believe in nursery rhymes,

when clocks and watches went on strike

and no one couldn’t tell time?

It was a bad day when elephant tusks rained

from the sky, blocking traffic for miles on I-35.

Recall the day a fart in the wind tunnel really

did make a difference,

when a witch’s tit and well-digger’s ass became

warm to the touch,

the day Alzheimer's struck Lady Luck and no

one won the lottery?

Oh, what a shame...

Remember the day you left your umbrella at home

and in sheets and torrents, it rained cats and dogs?

Good luck, Sucka! Tomorrow’s another day.

Check your local listing for time and place.

                         -30-

Chris Hanch 4-24-2020