Wednesday, November 30, 2022

Another Christmas Story


Christmas is a reminder to me,


good men and women are born


to live and die eventually. And


good stories, true or not, often


follow them throughout history.



I like the one where a young woman


sells her lengthy hair to buy her


husband an expensive watch fob.


And unbeknownst to him, he sells his


beloved watch to buy his wife an


expensive brush for her beautiful


long hair.



O. Henry's famous Christmas


story, The Gift of the Maji, gets


at the heart of gift giving for me.



Even though biblical gold, frankin-


cense and myrrh and storied watch


chains these days are pretty much


old-fashioned or expensively out


of reach for common folk such as


you and me, in the true spirit of


gift-giving, a good Christmas story


is worth repeating over and again.



I’ll trust your judgment this Christmas,


my friends, but please, no ties for me.


I haven’t had need for one of those in


years. Besides, ties don’t make a very


romantic story line.



                          -30-


Chris Hanch 11-30-2022 

Tuesday, November 29, 2022

More About Memories


Do lots of stuff while you are still


young and able. So many cherished


memories to carry with you in the


time given you. It is a gift to remember



where you have been and who and why


you have become who you are today.


I have spent a good part of the past


ten years collecting and organizing



artworks, photographs and writings


I have amassed over the years. Gee,


that was me. By golly, there you are.


I remember that scene from one of



my many travels. Some of those times


were difficult for me; some a blessing.


I even reminisce all the terrible and


mundane jobs I held, the ones I finally



quit and was called an idiot for doing


so. Well, damn it, here I am still


alive and kicking. Many of those I


had captured with my art and pho-



tography were not so fortunate as I.


I still have the images to remind me.


And something of value to leave


behind. And good god willing, you



do as well. Here’s to you and me



and auld lang syne. Hip, Hip, Hooray.



Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah-Day...


Cheers!


                     -30-


Chris Hanch 11-29-2022



 

Monday, November 28, 2022

Beyond Reasoning

 

Who, what, when, where and why on this


Earth in such a brief lifetime span of mine?



I was compelled to leave my comfort zone,


convenience and ofttimes common sense



behind to find the journey called. And given


my passing years, I’m mighty damn glad it did.



                                       -30-


Chris Hanch 11-28-2022


Wednesday, November 23, 2022

Making Sense of It

 

We learn our lessons differently.


Wouldn’t you say? Some are


book-read smart, others absorb


the teacher’s words. Others still


learn first-hand through experience.


The best way, I suppose, is being


able to utilizing all three.



I happen to have ADD and I’m


fairly sure have a mild case of


dyslexia as well. I seem to skip


lines in literature and have to


re-read certain sentences over


again in order to comprehend


what is being said.



I have always preferred pictures


over words. When I was a child,


I would first look at the pictures


of comic strips in the newspaper


in order to capture the idea. And


to this day I always follow the


diagram in the instructions of


How to” when assembling a


store-bought piece.



Perhaps this is why I have always


excelled in drawing, painting and


sculpture. It’s a visual thing.



My love of photography is fittingly


appropriate for me as well. Cartoon-


ing especially gives me the oppor-


tunity to express myself humorously


or sarcastically. That genre allows


me to optically illustrate how I see


things through my uniquely twisted


perspective.



I believe, sans words, my photo-


graphs (open to viewer interpre-


tation) visually speak for them-


selves.



Funny thing is, I find it easier to


write words than to read them.


I suppose that is because I have


an idea of what I’d like to com-


municate. We all have our pre-


ferences for learning; teaching,


now that’s a whole different thing.



                       -30-


Chris Hanch 11-23-2022



Friday, November 18, 2022

And So It Is

 

Donkeys, grazing peacefully,


never hurting anyone intentionally.


Christmas falls on December 25th


this year again as it has for centuries.


I prefer my steak medium, you like


yours well done.


Today is the day bed sheets are


changed.


The psychologist asks if you’ve


ever considered hurting yourself


or anyone else? Donald Trump


comes to mind, but you keep


it to yourself.


Mostly you can live your life


the way things are, but you


send your steak back to cook


a little longer.


Sometimes you can be considered


a stubborn ass, but nature has it


that donkeys never change.


                    -30-


Chris Hanch 11-18-2022



Thursday, November 17, 2022






 

My Life Inside

As Seen through the Aging Eyes of the Beholder


A Photographic Sampler Arranged in Practical Disarray


by Chris Hanch


My friends, this offering of mine may seem a bit weird

and unusual, but there are reasons behind my peculiar

eccentricites. For the past 3-years, due to physical and

emotional impairments, I have sequestered myself to the

confines of my subterranean studio apartment in South

Kansas City.


I am accompanied by my loyal pup, Carmen, an eight

pound, eight year old, Maltese-Poodle mix who is house

trained to do her business on dogie pads at which she is

95-percent accurate. (No one, including myself, is perfect.)


Carmen is an energetic neurotic pup who clips along at

a prancing pace, and barks at every noise which can be

heard coming from the outside. She watches TV intently

with me, and goes completely livid at every animal she

hears or sees. I’ve tried to dissuade her from her obnox-

iously loud unsocial behavior, but to no avail. That in-

cessant yapper trait I fear is hopelessly emblazoned into

her canine DNA. I have resigned myself to knowing all

the commercials and shows which feature animals. And

being quick-draw proficient with the remote, I am usually

able to change the channels before the uproarious commo-

tion gets out of hand.


Carmen and I know one another well. Each move, words,

barks, routines awake, mealtime, nap time and bedtime,

24-7 we are aware and in sync with one another through-

out the day. She depends upon me, and willingly for com-

forting compa- nionship I rely upon her.


One may wonder why I have chosen to remain seques-

tered from the outside world when there are many folks

with disabilities more serious and acquit than mine who

manage to get out and about? I’ll let the medical profes-

sionals and would-be psychologists ponder and diagnose

that. Simply, I am for the most part, at seventy-five years

of age, having earlier on in my life traveled and moved

about extensively, safe, secure and okay with my current

situation. For the most part, without disrupting or disturb-

ing anyone else, I can read, write, listen to music, watch

TV, eat what I want when I want, scratch my ass, pick my

nose, fart, belch, smoke, sleep and arise as I please.


I have spent more than half my life in monogamous rela-

tionships, and now in the twilight of my days, without

harming or being subservient to another. I can pretty much

have “it” my way. Besides, I have a painfully hard time

getting around. And I gave my car to my son and daughter-

in-law several years ago. I was a slave to the personal trans-

portation beast maintenance and financially most of my life.


I have thousands of photographs, artworks and writings to

remind me of where I came from and where I have been.

My computer, the internet, TV and Alexa can easily take

me where I choose to be, and I need not spent hours prepar-

ing to make myself presentable and acceptable to the per-

snickety public at large.


Due to my arthritis and severe tremors, I can no longer

create my artworks, but I can write with the aid of a com-

puter. And after several years of organizing my works, I

submitted and was accepted to donate many of my works

to my home State of Missouri’s Historical Society, one of

the crowning achievements of my artistic lifetime. Taken

one day at a time, better off than many, I am okay.


With all that said, you may now have a better idea about

me, where I have been, from where I’m coming, and

where I am now three quarters of a century into my life.

Lord knows, any day now none of this will matter to me

anymore.


For your enlightenment as edification, I have taken some

representative photographs of my pup, me and my imme-

diate surroundings which I navigate effortlessly every day.

You will note, I have given up the neat and tidy bit which

I used to keep in the event a visitor knocked on my door

which with the exception of my son who does my weekly

grocery shopping or my daughter who comes to clean

once a month, no one else does anymore.


I am not a pack rat. There is simply not enough cabinet

or closet space to put things away. I can see everything

and it’s placed conveniently and easy to reach. No bugs,

no mice or rats, just puppy, dust and me with Putin, Trump

and MAGA Republicans to piss me off on TV.


For the most part, I have accepted the hand life has dealt

me. I’ll continue to dip into my Bucket List of Wishes

which includes expressing myself each day for the dur-

ation of whatever time is afforded me in this wild, woolly

and satisfying life of mine.



CH




Wednesday, November 16, 2022

i pray


before falling into sleep each night


i pray


yet wars homelessness and starvation continue




before falling into sleep each night


I pray


yet destructive weather and the mankind


world are perpetually in disarray




before falling into sleep each night


i pray


yet guns and murders continue to proliferate


autocrats hold sway to rule and dictate




before falling into sleep each night


i pray


yet knowing the cosmos will continue


to destroy and create


as the gods of man each have their way




before falling into sleep each night


i pray


yet good and evil


heaven and hell on earth


shall continue to prevail




for all it’s worth


i pray


i wish you peace and good will


sweet dreams


sleep tight


let’s try this again tomorrow



amen



                   -30-


chris hanch 11-16-2022






 

Saturday, November 12, 2022

Sorry

 

How old and wise must we grow


to be to learn compassion and say,


I’m sorry?



How old and wise must we be to


seek forgiveness from you and say,


I’m sorry?



How old and wise must we be to know


the difference between the two—being


sorry from me and being sorry for you?



                             -30-


Chris Hanch 11-12-2022

Friday, November 11, 2022

All That Jazz

 

He sits alone in the smoke


filled night club drinking his


vodka rocks and listens to


live jazz.



He notices the couple


two tables down. Lovers


no doubt. They are too


enamored with one and


other to be married.



Could be newlywed.


That would explain the


goo-goo eyes and hand


holding they exchanged.



Not more than a year of


wedlock, he figures. That


sort of affectionate behavior


rarely lasts more than a


year or so.



He was alone having


personally known the


myriad crazy phases


of love relationships.



And for a time now


after 40-years he was


sidelined with only


his loneliness, his


vodka rocks and


mood indigo jazz


music.



That young couple two


tables down brought back


vivid memories of his own


Days of Wine and Roses.



Dream on lovebirds, dream


on. Life and time will even-


tually have its rude-awakening


way.



The piano man plays


Smoke Gets in your Eyes,


a fitting tune, he muses.



He lights up a cigarette,


and places his order as the


waitress passes by. The


same, she inquires?


This time make it a double,


he replies. She nods her


head and smiles.



                 -30-


Chris Hanch 11-11-2022



Wednesday, November 9, 2022

As I Go


A sad day, I might say


one day, but not this day


for I am still here in my


place to claim. Fortunate,


I would certainly say.



One day, surely not


far from here given my


advancing age, I shall


depart the scene I know,


nevermore able to leave


footprints in the snow.



Till then, I shall


cherish leaving a


trail behind me as I go.




Today, one more step


from where I have been


forward into the inevitable


Great Unknown.



                 -30-


Chris Hanch 11-9-22 

Tuesday, November 1, 2022

A Good Samaritan

 

One night at a bar in the big city, I sat alone drinking and smoking


one cigarette after another. I saw a lady having disagreeable words


with a man who apparently came in together. Upset, the man got up,


left the place never to return.



The lady had one drink after another, and became quite intoxicated.


Feeling sorry for her, I got up from my table, went up to her seated


at the bar, and asked if there was something I could do? Unsteady


and glassy-eyed she replied, I could use a ride home.



Slurring her words, she went on. The son-of-a-bitch who brought


me left me here alone. I don’t have money for a cab. After this drink,


maybe you could take me. Sure, I responded, let me know when you’re


ready.



I thought to myself, sober she would be a pretty woman, but beyond


that, giving her a safe ride home, I had only good intentions. Having


been involved with alcohol and relationships before, I wasn’t about


to leap into that pitfall inferno again. A bit tipsy myself, I was still


sober enough this time not to step over that line. This was strictly


a Good Samaritan Act, and I still had sense enough about me to


leave it at that



Anyway it was a long and dark ride to her place. I had no idea where


she lived, and she passed out off and on while giving me directions.


I thought about my own precarious situation, recently divorced after


seventeen tumultuous years where out of frustration with my situation


alcohol became involved. I’ll bet this lady has her stories of woe to tell.



Lady, shaking her shoulder, I’d ask...Do you know where we are, left


or right? She’d jerk awake, look around and say, take a right, then nod


out again. It went that way for better than a half an hour or so before


we eventually by the grace of god reached our destination. Not being


familiar with the area, I had no idea where we were, and I had to trust


she still had the homing instinct to know where in hell she lived.



Sssstop here, she slurred. That’s my place. Would ja wanna come in and have


a drink, she asked as she fumbled and staggered her way out of the car? No


thanks, have a good night, I had the good sense to answer. No way was I going


to wake up in the morning like her wondering how in I got here, and who in


hell was this person sleeping next to me?



It was dark and I was lost, but I’d take my chances finding my way home.


No way I’d make the same mistake I had made in my marriage before. Hell


fire, that cost me seventeen years of my life, and still I hadn’t found my way.


Left, right or straight ahead into the dark of night? Sober as a goddamn judge,


I ‘d take my chances.



                    -30-


Chris Hanch 11-1-2022