Insanity

It’s all a mankind mess. Has our world gone

stark-raving mad? There are good people and

bad ones too, and one wonders who is who?

Captured on video, another innocent black

man is murdered at the hands of the police.

A peaceful protest turns violent, and everyone

becomes involved.

Cars are overturned and set on fire. Windows

are shattered, businesses are vandalized and

looted.

Graffiti scars walls and walkways. Profanities,

tear gas and flash/bang canisters are tossed in

all directions.

Eyes and lungs burn like fire. Hundreds of years

of bias, injustice and atrocities erupt, explode,

consuming the heart and soul of humanity.

Insanity, anarchy infiltrate, permeate and denigrate

society. The cauldron of emotions simmering under the

fires of prejudice, and oppression is bound to boil

over and over again.

For the sins, transgressions and negligence of mankind,

everyone gets burned in the end.

                                   -30-

Chris Hanch 5-31-2020

Something About Cooking

I have often heard stories about mothers and grandmothers

teaching their children how to cook, most of them learned

at an early age. Mostly girls too.

I can’t recall men telling me they learned to cook from their

mothers and grandmothers. Many men, I won’t say all of them,

either let their women cook for them or they’ll often eat out.

Don’t get me wrong, I have known lots of men who are chef

level cooks, and they enjoy it too.

My mother was not a good cook, but she did what she could.

She was chronically ill when my brothers and I were children.

So, my dad when he was home on weekends did some cooking

to help out. But that ended when Mom and Dad divorced,

and Dad moved away.

My younger brother and I had payed attention to our Mom’s

cooking early on. And we knew our Dad could fix things like

hot dogs, potato chips and canned baked beans.

Our parents didn’t teach us how or what to cook per se,

but we learned the basics just by watching. If they could,

cook, we could do it too.

And so, when Mom was no longer able to cook, my younger

brother and I fixed most of our meals. My older brother who

was spoiled rotten because he had asthma as a child, did

very little cooking. He took care of himself, though.

He took after our dad and became very fond of hot dogs,

potato chips and canned baked beans. Oh, he was proficient

at opening cans of Chef Boyardee Ravioli and Spaghetti as

well. Of course dry cereal and bologna were always an option

on his menu too.

As adults of course, my brothers and I went our separate

ways and raised familys of our own. When I was married,

I often cooked meals for the family. And my younger brother

fancied himself as quite the chef magnifique.

My older brother and I haven’t been on speaking terms for

a number of years, but he stays in touch with our younger

brother. I’m fixing myself a pork roast for Christmas, I told

my younger brother over the phone one year. He was going

to smoke a turkey in the Weber Kettle, and is having his family

over.

Have you heard from our older brother lately, I asked him?

What’s he doing for the Holidays? Well, he answered, living

alone, he can pretty much do what he wants to do, you know.

He’s looking forward to his favorite annual treat, my younger

brother told me. Oh, what’s that, I asked? He snickered back,

canned Spam.

Is that it?

                                       -30-

Chris Hanch 5-30-2020

Say Cheese!

Think of it, were they (the writer, producer and director

of such things) to make a movie of my life, of the two or

three hour variety in length, the editors would step up and

have a heyday slicing and cutting

away all the boring and mundane scenes which amounted

to nothing of interest to anyone who may be curious in

viewing such a thing. No, I think perhaps a black and white,

artsy docudrama, a silent film of 15-minutes or so, the

type with an unsteady camera flashing still shots in a

series of me looking into the camera and progressing in

age from two-years old to my current age of 73. The

music bed would be playing, perhaps William Barber’s

Adagio for Strings, a haunting but stirring piece. No

narrative portion would be needed, the pictures and

musical score would carry the theme. The audience may

note that I never smiled in all those drab and unimposing

scenes. How sad, he seemed to take life so seriously.

You think of yourself, all those pictures taken, birthdays,

holidays, celebrations, vacations, momentous occasions,

and some drunken dodo with a camera tells everyone to

say “cheese.” Those are the infrequent highlights in life,

dear viewer. Who but the consummate artist would

pose for the unaccountable and uninteresting remainder

of it? Where are the lighthearted poses of joy and jubila-

tion in Rembrandt's portfolio? Why, even da Vinci’s

Mona Lisa is barely amused.

                                   -30-

Chris Hanch 5-30-2020

Pay the Rent

Got an e-mail today from the office

of the apartment complex where I live.

It read as follows:

Dear Residents,

It has been brought to our attention there may be a discrepancy

in your YES Engergy billing. It appears your billing may not show

that you have paid your previous month's rent. YES Energy billing

has been reported as not showing the previous month's payments.

If you know that you were at a zero balance moving into June please

diregard that portion of the statement.

Your resident portal should show the correct amount owed for June

to include rent and utilities. If you are not using the resident portal

simply add any recurring monthly charges such as rent, pet rent,

carports and washer and dryer rentals to the amount shown for your

utilites on the YES Energy bill to calculate your amount due.

The YES Energy bill is simply a statement tool being used to show

you the itemized charges for your trash, pest control, water/sewer

usage. Please diregard any other charges. We apologize for any

inconvenience this may have caused.

Sincerely,

Tracie

Now that’s a lot to digest, I know, but it shows how stupid

and impersonal things can be in this computer, high-speed

internet day and age.

I checked out my residential portal web

page, and it showed being paid in full for

May (and today is the 29^th of said month).

In advance, it shows what I’m due to pay

in June, same as every other month.

Now here are my pet peeves: #1 “Dear

Residents” is a bit too impersonal for me.

If you mean me, say my name. “Dear

Residents” sounds like you haven’t got a

clue as to who has paid and who has not.

#2 “There may be a descrepancy in your

YES Energy billing...”(Well, I say either

there is or there isn’t) Now I’m getting

pissed.

Bla! Bla! Bla! If you have time you can

read the rest all over again.

Anyway, they apologized for any incon-

venience this may have caused. That’s a

load of crap. You should have checked

the records of your renters to see who

has paid and who hasn’t.

#3 “Sincerely, Tracie”...Oh, so now we’re

ending on a first name basis? Isn’t that

quaint. “Sincerely,” I don’t think so.

So, where does all this rigmarole end?

I paid my rent for June, 4 days early.

Leave me alone, Tracie, at least till

next month’s rent and the YES Energy

bill are due again.

Sincerely back atcha,

Resident(s) (Guess Who?)

                             -30-

Chris Hanch 5-29-2020

Stories Be Told

Many days, I have stories to tell. Some days,

the folks who read my tales can relate and often respond.

Many others, for their own reasoning, disregard and never do.

And that’s okay. Everyone has their own stories to tell.

This life is about story building. Some are more than willing

to share their stories; some are not.

We live and learn from others, but mostly from ourselves.

(You have to personally touch the fire in order to feel the burn.)

Life is part reality, part imagining and make-believe fantasy.

That’s why today people like Walt Disney, Steven Spielberg,

George Lucas and JFK. Rowling are so popular. In their time

it used to be the likes of Homer and the Brothers Grim.

People can either relate experientially, or are simply a psycho-

logical wannabe. Typically, fantasy gives reality it’s underlying

meaning, figuratively speaking that is.

Mythology has been part of the human experience since the

beginning of the Anthropocene epoch in history.

And so, dear reader, you may be asking where all this happens

to lead? Well, I’ve said my spiel. Now, it’s all up to you. Take it

or leave it.

If it was up to me, I would liked to have seen Humpty

Dumpty thrown at the cinematic screening of Leaving Las Vegas.

I thought that movie really sucked.

                                        -30-

Chris Hanch 5-29-2020

Rainy Day

Rainy day, rainy day, gray and rainy day.

Good day for some George Gershwin, I’d say...

Blue Monday

Miracle On 34^th Street (Could use a few around here.)

But Not For Me

How Long Has This Been Going On?

It Ain’t Necessarily So

Doin’ Time

Who Cares?

Someone To Watch Over Me

I Got Plenty o’ Nuttin’

Bidin’ My Time

    Oh what in hell…

Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off.

                          -30-

Chris Hanch 5-28-2020

The Employment App

When I was still part of the workforce, I

couldn’t tell you how many applications

for employment I filled out between jobs

or while working, but looking for something

better.

One establishment in particular comes to

mind, the name of which escapes me at the

moment. And even if I could recall, it wouldn’t

be worth mentioning.

Anyway, I went to the front desk in the lobby

and asked the receptionist for an application.

She handed me a four-sided form and told me

to make sure to fill out front and back, sign and

return it to her when I was finished.

I sat in an arm chair next to a potted plant and

began. Damn questions. I hate these forms.

Want a detailed history from birth. Suppose

they’d want to know if I have any undisclosed

birthmarks? Let’s see, was that position I held

from 1984 to 1986 or was it 1987?

My dates and numbers better jibe or this exercise

will be a complete waste of time.

It took me the better part of an hour to finish the

stupid thing. So, I take the completed application

back to the receptionist. She flips through it and

notices I have left one question blank—Are you

a smoker?

Well, I figure that’s nobody’s business but mine.

If there is no smoking on the job, I can go along

with that. But what I do with my time is my own

personal right. And I thought to myself, they didn’t

ask if I drank alcohol to excess or engaged hookers

with my own dime.

So, what’s with the smoking bit? We don’t hire

active smokers inside or out, she stated most

emphatically. Says right here in our opening

mission statement. Well, what if I shower and

splash on Old Spice liberally each morning

before I come to work, I came back at her with

my most tactful sarcasm?

No smokers, she said sharply. Why, that’s

just plane UN-American I insisted.

And with that I took the application back and

in front of her and God, I ripped that piece of

crap application in half, placing it defiantly

on the counter in front of her. Have a nice day.

I turned and walked out the door. Huh, no

smokers indeed, I said, lighting up on the way

to my car. I may even have a drink or two when

I get home. But I was only kidding with myself

about that hooker thing.

                         -30-

Chris Hanch 5-27-2020

Yogi

1951, Yogi Berra was behind the plate catching

for the Yankees, a St. Louis Italian Hill boy, born

and raised.

Yogi became famous for his hitting and catching,

as a player, as a manager in later years, and for his

seemingly silly and rediculous quotes: “It ain’t over

till is’ over,” and “It’s like déjà vu all over again.”

Everyone would think about what Yogi said, then

laugh. When asked by reporters about his sport, he

gave it a few seconds to sink in then replied,

“Baseball is 90% mental and the other half is physical.”

Yogi was no dummy, mind you, and he wasn’t trying

to be funny either. That was just Yogi being Yogi.

In addition to his 21 World Series appearances and

10 World Series Rings as player, coach and manager,

Yogi was a 5’7” titan on the field of play.

I can still see him crouching behind the plate, adjusting

his mask, pounding his dusty mit then placing

three fingers, tapping the inside of his right thigh.

On the mound, Don Larsen looks in, winds and pitches,

a slider low and away. The batter swings and misses.

“You can observe a lot by just watching,” Yogi used

to say.

                              -30-

Chris Hanch 5-27-2020

Having It Made

If thoughts carry us through the day,

the thought I have today is why, even

as we try, we never seem to “have it

made?” What does that mean, anyway?

In the morning I gave up making

my bed for I knew no one would

ever come and see. Symbolically,

the rest of the day then remained

unmade for me.

Ask Jeff Bezos or Bill Gates, ask

Michael Jordan or Neil DeGrasse

Tyson, ask Oprah Winfrey or Alice

Walker, there is always something

to do which needs to be done.

Does anyone alive ever really have

it made? Personally, I never wanted

to be counted as one fortunate son

of a bitch who could sit back, take

a deep breath and sigh, that’s it I’ve

got it made. I’ll leave what’s left to

all the rest.

Leaving my morning bed undone

tells me I have yet to do my best.

When I finish this piece on which

I’m working today, I shall consider

for a brief moment in time as having

it made.

There will always be wants and

needs springing up throughout the

rest of my days. In my ripe old age,

I no longer seek fortune and fame,

have never set a goal for myself as

“having it made.”

Of course there is always the distinct

possibility for mistakes to be made.

And likewise, the opportunity for a

world of good deeds to be made is

also great.

Nevertheless, I can always lie down

in an unmade bed and still have it

made, albeit temporarily.

                         -30-

Chris Hanch 5-27-2020