Perhaps

 

Perhaps I could have discovered

a vaccine which saved humanity

from certain doom. Poor souls

would have found another way

to die.

Perhaps I could have uncovered

the 119^th element, adding to the

Periodic Table, and have had a

Nobel Prize awarded to me.

(Could have used the noteriety

and cash.)

Perhaps I could have broken the

Major League Home Run Record,

and been inducted into the Hall of

Fame beside Hank Aaron. (I never

even made it to the plate.)

Perhaps I could have negotiated

a lasting peace in the Middle East

where the Palestinians and Israelis

joined hand-in-hand in the Brother-

hood of Man. (Fat chance of that

happening.)

And perhaps I could have raised the

Minimum Wage to $35 an hour and

eliminated poverty for the working

woman and man. (Yeah right.)

Could have perhaps waved my hand over

despots like Trump, Putin, Jong-un and

Erdoğan, liberating the masses from the

idiotic dictatorial asses. (Shoulda, coulda,

woulda. There would have been another

authoritarian to take their place.)

I can think of a world of things I could

have done with all the passing hours in my

life, but I chose to draw, paint, read, write,

sleep, bitch and gripe. (Fame isn’t all it’s

cracked up to be.)

I did, however, vote against Trump and all

my State’s down-ballot Republicans this

election year. We’ll see how that turns out.

(This “Could Have” will hopefully be my

best move to change history.)

                      -30-

Chris Hanch 10-31-2020

Reboot!

 

Alexa, play Beethoven. “Shuffling music

by Ludwig von Beethoven” she says back to

me. I wait...and nothing. I repeat my request

and she claims to be shuffling again. And

nothing again. Hmmm, What the hell?

What has she got against Beethoven today?

Alexa, play Franz Liszt. “Shuffling music

by Franz Liszt...” And again, nada. I tried

three other composers with the same results,

silence...So, I look up Amazon Help Center

and give them a call.

A nice young chap listened to my problem

and asked me to unplug my device. “Then

plug it back in,” he directed me. Be patient,

I told him. I’m disabled and it takes me

awhile to get around. Let me put the phone

down and hobble over to the plug...There,

I got it.

Alexa has a blue circling light. Shall I

try my request again? “Go ahead,” he

said. Well, what do you know, she’s

working now. She just needed to reboot.

Ah, the answer to all our problems in this

high-tech day and age—Reboot! The ninth,

tenth, eleventh and twelfth Wonders of the

Modern World—Reboot!

One of these days in the not too distant

future, some time soon after my passing

from this Earth, Light Speed Technology

will be able to correct just about any

human ailment or malady as you sit in the

comfort of your own home. The instant

remedy will be to simply unplug yourself

and allow your entire molecular bio-system

to reboot.

Old farts such as I who have survived until

that day will be simply amazed. The

younger generations who grew up with

such advanced technology will merely

shrug their shoulders and figure life has

always been this way. All the misfires

of humanity will be wiped away.

For them, as far as they are concerned,

Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon

almost a billion years ago, about a day

or two after Magellan circumnavigated

the Earth. Primitive shit, they’ll claim,

no friggin’ big deal.

All the mishaps of humanity will be

a thing of the past. Pull the plug and

reinstate...Reboot! Oh, happy days!

             -30-

Chris Hanch 10-30-2020

An Afternoon in Place

 

Sitting in my place

Smoking an afternoon away

Listening to Beethoven

Hoping to soothe jangled nerves

Thinking of the world today

Our country has gone insane

Poor leadership at the top

Corruption

Greed

Bigotry

Racism

Misogyny

Vitriol

Prejudice

Hatred

Division

Nationwide voting

Taking Place

Election Day

Five days away

What will become of us

Pandemic ravages our country

The weak

The elderly

and the poor

The hungry

The homeless

The jobless

And displaced

Could get worse

Could elect a better way

Hope is frayed

A thread we cling to

Democracy under siege

And there is Beethoven

Long gone

And even if alive today

Unable to hear me complain

Only music, beautiful music

Playing in his brain

Moonlight Sonata

           -30-

Chris Hanch 10-30-2020

The Inheritance

 

Got a phone call from Marcus that afternoon.

He called to tell me our friend Jimmy had died.

He collapsed from an overdose of drugs in a

motel parking lot on the East Side where he

was staying.

A couple of weeks earlier I let Jimmy stay at

my apartment until he was to have surgery

at the VA for a busted-up ankle. He got it

from jumping off a garage roof while drunk

months before.

I met Jimmy at the VA alcohol and drug rehab

facility where we were going through a 3-week

recovery program together.

When we were released, I told him he could

stay with me for a few weeks as long as he

didn’t drink or use. I didn’t want to relapse

myself and go through that shit all over again.

Well Jimmy lasted a week or so, and was

at it once again. I had no choice but to send

him away. He then went to live with Marcus,

who had been in treatment with us as well.

But that didn’t work out between the two

of them either. Seems with drunks and

addicts it rarely if ever does.

Lucky for Jimmy he had an old spinster aunt

who had recently passed away in another

State. His sister informed him that she left

her nieces and nephews some money. And

for Jimmy that amounted to some $4000

which his sister sent him by telegram.

Marcus told me that Jimmy got a cheap

a motel room, bought himself an ample

supply of beer, hooked up with an assort-

ment of illicit drugs which he started to

abuse right away.

It was only a few more weeks until he

was scheduled for surgery at the VA.

Laid back high and smashed with his

wad of cash, Jimmy figured that had

it made. That was until he overdosed

and passed out in the motel parking lot.

Lying comatose for a few days in hospital,

Jimmy died. On and off the wagon myself

since then, I have managed by the grace

of God to break my bond of addiction and

remain sober to this day.

Before Jimmy’s passing, had I had the

chance to suggest a better use of $4000,

he may have had his surgery, and like me

could have gone on to see better days.

But then, what was to be expected of us

anyway? We were died in the wool drunk

junkies, after all, who had made our

choices, and gone our separate ways.

                   -30-

Chris Hanch 10-29-2020

Something About Pain

 

Now this may sound eerily strange,

but at my age and in my ailing sit-

uation, I am not looking forward to

my final day of pain.

What, you may ask? Why, you may

wonder? Would you repeat that, I

don’t understand, you explain?

Okay, here goes again, pay close

attention this time: At my age and

given my deteriorating situation,

I am still not looking forward to my

final day of pain.

You see, to my way of thinking

and my fervent belief, pain is what

the living deal with. And should it

subside or go away, one still alive

then feels the pleasure of relief.

For me and as I see it, death like

pre-conception and birth is uncon-

scious nothingness, neither pain

nor pleasure. And without those

tactile or emotional sensations,

there can be no relief.

As for me, I’d would much prefer to feel

the pain. Death is the eternal void of noth-

ingness which comes with no escape, no

promise of release.

It’s like paying for a movie you never get

to see. And what’s worse, you couldn’t

care less.

Now, where in hell did I put that ibu-

profen? Even the slightest hope of

relief is better than nothingness.

                  -30-

Chris Hanch 10-28-2020

Stress Relief

 

Last night I watched TV, a political program

on MSNBC. The moderator asked his two

pundit guests, what should nervous folks

do to make it through the week before what

will likely be the most important presidential

election in United States history, given our

threatened democracy in the balance

so-to-speak?

One political expert opined, “Stay busy and vote!

The other pundit chimed in with his remedy, “Zanex

and Scotch,” said he. And with the latter, I tend to

agree.

Now, I no longer imbibe alcohol, and have no

prescribed meds for anxiety either. But I did

flash back in time when many of my days were

wasted, artificially induced with a sense of peace

and tranquility. Ah, the Good Old Days, I thought,

young and cavalier without worry, without strife.

At least temporarily, I couldn’t give a damn.

Fast forward to my sober and drug free situation

today, piss on Trump and his lackeys anyway.

                          -30-

Chris Hanch 10-27-2020

Old Fashioned

 

I have to make a couple of phone calls today,

business not pleasure I’ve been putting off

for days. I Plan on reading and writing some

while listening to music. Not sure what tunes

to select yet, that depends on the mood I

happen to be in.

Then there’s hot dogs for lunch and possibly

canned beef stew or frozen pizza for dinner. A

little nodding off occasionally between the acts

of the production I’m starring in today.

Had I been born and lived a century earlier, I

wouldn’t have all these conveniences today

which allow me to move lackadaisically with

profound alacrity.

Lackadaisically, now there’s a word you don’t

hear used much anymore. In other times, some

may call the likes of me a lazy bum. But in this

high-tech day and age where all one need do is

throw switches, push buttons and give bots verbal

commands, rather than get up off our asses and

physically do something, surely a word such as

lackadaisical needs to be reintroduced into our

current sluggish and slovenly society.

Why some folks today rely on Peloton, NordicTrack

and Nutrisystem to tell them what to do.

But then, I excuse myself due to advance age and

poor physical conditioning. I’m kind of old fashioned

in that way, lackadaisical you might say.

                       -30-

Chris Hanch 10-26-2020

A Sunday Afternoon

 

Sunday afternoon, autumn day, cool, cloudy and gray.

And as I listen to Liszt on my Echo, time carries me

safe and secure ever so calmly into the region of my

74^th year.

Never expected to make it this far, but there were those

days in my twenties when time seemed irrelevant to me.

Seventy-four years were as distant and implausible as a

hundred back then.

Generally, though, those were pain free days, or at least

days where I could rely on my aches and pains eventually

healing on their own and going away.

The body and mind were miraculous that way in those

fleeting formidable years of youth. Time was a cure in

those days. Nowadays, however, if I manage my pain

I know that’s the best I can do. For tomorrow and each

passing day, it will only worsen incrementally.

Given my chronic arthritic condition, even though there

isn’t a chance in hell that I’ll survive that long, a hundred

years is unattainable yet just over the horizon of life, in

actuality not so far away.

For now, I rest safe, warm and secure with melodies from

Liszt to temporarily soothe me in my present time and place.

Hell fire and damnation, who knows, I may just make it six

more months to see age 74. And as the Old Timers use to

say, “Good Lord willing and the creek don’t rise.”

                            -30-

Chris Hanch 10-25-2020

Best Laid Plans

Who are they kidding, The Best Laid Plans

of Mice and Men? Mice do what they do

instinctively every day. They never let plans

get in their way.

Now, men I can see. Men the fools that we

happen to be, always got to figure out a way.

Fail or succeed, you gotta have a plan…

The birthday party, an anniversary, the game

of the week, a better job, the new apartment

or house, hell, a bouquet of flowers and a box

of chocolates, a pack of cigarettes and beef

jerky from the 711 before the road trip.

Every man needs, for Christ’s sake, demands

a plan. Mice keep their existence simple as

can be—stay out of the light, eat, procreate,

and avoid cheese in places cheese shouldn’t

be.

Oh, sure, mice can’t always resist a good

meal even if it is a trap. Men fall into traps

all the time, planned for or not.

You fool! You should have bought her a ring

instead of flowers and chocolate. Case closed.

                      -30-

Chris Hanch 10-24-2020 

Waxing Philosophical

 

Yo Yo Ma is in tune with his cello today.

Cold and wet outside; I love a rainy day.

Hip disagreeable, so it goes in my old age.

I voted by mail, got that duty out of the way.

The gas, electric, cable and piper have been paid.

Left-overs in the fridge for dinner, and that’s okay.

Lord, give me strength, patience and understanding.

Bless the whole goddamned world, I pray.

A deep breath, and place one foot in front of the other.

Take a step at a time.

Reason does not need to rhyme all the time.

Try not to end the sentence with a preposition.

Be all that as it may, I can live with the way things

are today.

If my dog can do it, so can I.

I know, I’ve done all this before.

                       -30-

Chris Hanch 10-23-2020

The Exchange

 

In Recovery, the Occupational Therapist

told me that one of my problems was that

I never asked for help when I needed it.

One of my shortcomings, she added, was that

I would just rather do it myself. Well, I gave

her professional diagnosis some thoughtful

consideration. Look, I told her, admittedly,

I’m an alcoholic. And I sit here in front of

you because I have found that I need some

outside help to resolve my issues. You surely

wouldn’t offer your advise without my being

here face to face with you in the first place.

What’s more, there is my willingness to pay

for the services rendered. In addition, I am

amenable participating in this tete-a-tete

with you. As I see it, you’re not looking at our

exchange with objectively. So, as for my part,

and covering all the bases in this conversation,

I find the need to say, thank you for the help,

and for mine, you are most welcome. Have a

nice day.

                        -30-

Chris Hanch 10-22-2020