Algorithm

 

Algorithm, a word term we hear quite

often these days. It forms in the brain and

rolls off the tongue in a complicated way—

al·go·rithm –a process or set of rules

to be followed in calculations or other

problem-solving operations, especially

by a computer.

Algorithm, a not so unusual word used

quite often in this day and age. My guess

is that in millions of words written by

Shakespeare, Grant and Mark Twain,

algorithm was never written and spoken

way back in the day. (Why who knows,

Ulysses Grant may have won or lost

more battles had he been aware of the

root word in his day?.)

Who can say, you and I may have had

profound changes in our lives should

algorithms have come into play?

How in hell are we supposed to know

if algorithms got in the way?

Indeed, it may explain how our children

are predisposed to behave? It wasn’t my

fault, Mom and Dad, algorithms were

to blame.

Why, if you’re over fifty, you likely don’t

know what the hell they’re talking about.

And you’d be in good company with fellow

throwbacks like Shakespeare, Grant and

Twain.

Algorithm, Issac Newton and Albert

Einstein in their calculations may

understand. But where on God’s

green Earth does that put you and

me? Save this transmission, my friend,

You may have need for an explanation

one day.

                           -30-

Chris Hanch 4-30-2023

Me, I'm Okay

 

In my life I have zigged rather than zagged,

often taken a right turn instead of a left. Yet

today, I’m okay.

I decided at times to take the easy way in

and out. I’m okay. Sometimes things worked

out; sometimes things died on the vine. Still,

even with disappointment, I find myself just

fine.

I’ve made my share of mistakes. If I have

hurt you in the process, please forgive me.

I am truly sorry. I’ll try better next time.

In my life I took the road less traveled and

got lost along the way. I’m still here to tell

you, I’m okay. Tomorrow is a brand new day.

Perhaps I need to make a change in my ways.

Believe me, folks I’ll be okay. There were

those days when I stepped on the gas and

took off like a bat out of hell.

Then there were the times I laid low and said

to myself the hell with this, it’s not my cup of

tea. (I prefer coffee anyway.) I’m okay.

You know, my friends and dissidents alike,

I am who and where I am today because of

certain talents and skills, because the lack of

others, because of luck of the draw and the

propensity to fence-sit and hem haw.

Due to or in spite of myself, I am okay with

who where I am today. This is what you get

when you come to grips with who you are.

And it should come as no surprise to open

your eyes and see, talents, flaws, rewards,

pitfalls and all to realize you have become

all you were meant to be.

So, in case any of you out there might be

wondering, suffice it to say, I accept that

I am me, not being the best or worse case,

on most days just being imperfectly okay.

                          -30-

Chris Hanch 4-29-2023

To My Surprise

 

In a group setting my wife was asked in

a word to describe me. She gave me the

once over with her eyes. “Eccentric,” she

replied without hesitation. I was amused,

and I must admit, thrown slightly out of

kilter in a round about way.

                 -30-

Chris Hanch 4-29-2030

Thoughtful Delight

 

The old man sits alone at home

It is way past bedtime, or way

too early. No matter, though,

being old and alone, he can sleep

any time any day, sitting upright

in his chair or lying in bed, either

way is okay.

In the past he had those folks

who told him what to do.

Wives, now all gone, friends

who gave up on him, and children

who rarely stop by anymore.

He’s oddly grateful, though, for

what he has to say is useless,

repetitive drivel anyway.

The fires of his desires smoldered

away long ago. He never achieved

fortune or notoriety, and pretty

much has lost his mental acuity

and physical stability.

It took all these years for him to

eventually achieve glorious peace

and goddamned quiet.

Greatness in his lifetime has come

to him, Its whisper is silence. He

folds his arms satisfied and closes

his eyes. He has survived all the

trials and tribulations of life.

He is not the first nor shall he be

the last to inch across the finish

line. He snickers, turns his head

slightly to the right in thoughtful

delight...good night.

                    -30-

Chris Hanch 4-28-2023

Biologically Speaking

If beauty is only skin deep

then that which lies

beneath are the skeletal

remains.

In between, life’s blood

flows in vein.

And few will argue, in life

it takes guts to maintain.

                -30-

Chris Hanch 4-27-2023 

Another Place in Time

It’s a long, long way

from then to now.

Name the place and time.

All of us willing and able

choose to remember

when and how.

Our paths have crossed

to get here

where we are today.

Why, who can say?

The face is familiar

although the name

has been misplaced.

As we age, loss of

memory is the

brain game played.

Nonetheless, it’s

nice to see you once again.

Somehow Peoria comes to mind.

Ever been East of the Mississippi?

                       -30-

Chris Hanch 4-26-2023

 

Good, better, best...(word play)

Good is good enough.

Better is better yet.

Best beats good and better.

Best is as good, even better

than it gets.

               -30-

Chris Hanch 426-2023

 

a thought for today...

 

fictitious or realistic

old memories

never die

they live as long

as do you and i

 

in remembering

-30-

Chris Hanch 4-25-2030

Lesson Learned

 

I won’t make

the same mistake twice.

I learned my lesson

once again on the third try.

Chris Hanch 4-24-2030

Say What?

 

It’s a monumental day.

And people of every stripe

look up seeing obstacles

in place—rivers, pitfalls,

blockades and walls, all

impeding the way.

How do I get there from

here, the curious and

ambitious will wonder?

I’ll crawl, climb or fly,

if need be to reach the

other side, some will say.

Then there’s always the

wise guy like Mohammad

who makes it into the

Koran by saying (para-

phrasing of course), if the

mountain won’t come to

him, well then, he’ll just

have to go to the mountain.

And then too, there’s

always the satisfied guy

who decides he’s perfectly

fine right where he stands.

“Nice view, beautiful day,”

he’ll proclaim. “Not only

that, but ‘monumental’

wouldn’t you say?”

                  -30-

Chris Hanch 4-24-2023

Dilemma

 

What does a 7^th grader think

already squirming in his desk

at 9 AM?

Sr. Marita is teaching fractions

and he is not paying attention

again.

He never had an interest

in math anyway. Numbers and

fractions especially were boring

and complicated.

He wished he was born

an Indian a hundred years ago.

No school and stupid fractions

for them.

Instead, he’d have his bow

and arrows and be outside in

the wilderness tracking rabbits

and deer in the morning.

My, but Peggy Petty is looking

mighty cute today.

I wonder if Warren can come

over to my house and mess

around after school?

Hope Bobby Kennedy doesn’t

give me trouble at recess again.

So many important thoughts

to occupy the mind instead of

stupid fractions.

English is going to be next,

and Sr. Marita will probably

have us diagramming

more sentences. You’d

think once would be enough.

Firemen, doctors and ball

players, why even moms

and dads never diagram

sentences. So, what the

heck for?

I wonder if Peggy would

ever go out to the movies

with me? Hercules is

playing at the Ozark.

That should be pretty neat.

Peggy has never even said

boo to me. She’d probably

just laugh if I asked.

I’d probably have a better

chance asking Bobby Kennedy.

Ha! Yeah right...fat chance of that!

Besides, he hates my guts.

What? Why is Sr. Marita calling

on me? I didn’t even raise my

hand.

Give her an answer, stupid!

Say anything. You’ll look

dumb in front of the whole

class if you don’t know.

Say one forth, one half,

say anything! Even if you’re

wrong, at least you’ll show

you know it’s math class.

Oh man, now Bobby Kennedy

is really going to let me have it

for sure at recess again.

Sister, could you please repeat

the question?

                -30-

Chris Hanch 4-22-2023

A History Reviewed, Reconciled and Relayed

 

He had seen the sights

from New York in the East

to the Golden Gate in the West.

He had sailed across the Atlantic

and flown across the Pacific.

He had served 3-years in the Army

and was honorably discharged.

He had listened to a wide variety

of music from Beethoven

to Basie to the Beetles.

He had moved to and lived

in more than 26-places

in his lifetime.

He had seen JFK live at

a rally in 1960,

and in real time on TV

had watched men land

on the moon.

He had illustrated drawings,

had painted murals and paintings,

had written essays and poems,

had photographed people

and places across the US of A

and Internationally.

He had married or lived

with four women,

had sired two children,

had watched four grand children

grow into adulthood.

He had taught art,

and had showings,

had given live poetry readings

and performances.

He had mowed the lawn

weekly in the summer.

He had painted house interiors

and exteriors,

had performed maintenance

on his own cars,

had constructed a patio,

a family room, and a garden.

He had worked myriad jobs

from laborer to administration,

to middle management,

to director of art .

He did freelance work

and at one time owned

his own business.

He was a jack of many trades

and nearly a master at one.

Over time, he had three dogs

who loved him unconditionally.

And that was more than he could

say about the women who

came and went occasionally

throughout his life.

To date he has lived 76-plus years

and has sported a beard for over

40 of those.

And now today, he and his dog

live alone.

He has no claim to fame.

He being me, is satisfied, gratified,

old, arthritic and gray, settled in

time and place.

                     -30-

Chris Hanch 4-21-23

 

Over Morning Coffee

Over morning coffee, Mrs. Troy talks about her life, her times, and the beautiful

children with flowing curls as if they were still there buzzing around the neighborhood.

“A wonderful place to live,” she says. Where Father Louis took good care of his flock,

and fresh baked bread was part of every meal.”

“We had a new car every few years, even during the Depression. Dad always bought his

cars new. Said he wasn’t going to fuss with someone else’s trouble.” Mrs, Troy talks

about her life, her times as if they still roamed around Logan Square. And her daughter,

Josephine, grown away as well fills in some fond recollections of ‘who’ and ‘when,’

people and times like them no longer there except in resurrected conversation.

“We should have put the recorder on,” her daughter laments once and again as she and

her mother get up from the table and walk arm in arm out the kitchen door on their

way to the grocery store. Talking about shopping now, and frozen vegetables, and a

good price on chicken breasts, and how much was left in the refrigerator when Dad

died a year ago in May.

“How Dad loved to eat,” Mrs. Troy recounts with a smile. “He would eat anything put

in front of him. But I don’t need much myself these days. Maybe just some apples

will do.”

Chris Hanch ca. 1982

Confessions

 

As a Catholic child at age 12 or 13

there was a lot about life and death

I had yet to learn, a lot I had not

been told by my parents and clergy.

In Confession, I had my secrets to

be kept for fear of being discovered

a serious sinner. And after all, mom

and dad, Sister Ann Vincetta and

Father Sullivan did not allow me to

know about the questionable things

they may had done.

I had kept the seeing of my older cousin’s

issue of Playboy Magazine to myself.

Was I bound for hell in not admitting what

I was taught to be a sin? I did my penance

for other transgressions which I did confess.

Was there really an all-knowing God, a

heaven above and a hell below as I and

others had been told? As an adult now,

and advanced in years, I must admit I

lost my belief in a Supreme Deity

and the duly ascribed, “Hereafter.” Surely,

I have learned first hand that there is good

and evil, a viable heaven and hell in this life-

time here on Earth.

And too, I must confess for certain,

there’s got to be allowances for

learning that boys will be boys. In

that I believe. Hail Mary and Glory Be!

-30-

Chris Hanch 4-20-2023

The Good Ole USA Today

 

It is said, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Given the daily news broadcast, ugliness too

must have its due.

War, homelessness, famine, mass murders,

swindle, fraud and greed, social and political

maleficence saturate the state of mankind’s

pathetic condition routinely in our each and

every day-to-day.

Commercial media continues to infuse

the pretext of strength and beauty into

the human psyche. The premise being

that the enhancement of physicality and

mental acuity—makeup, clothing, exercise,

financial and material wealth lead us to a

rewarding, more appealing, satisfying,

fat, wrinkle and worry-free life.

Man, woman, child, black, brown, red,

yellow, white, straight, LGBTQ, conser-

vative and progressive, we are all

mesmerized and enslaved these days

by the connectivity of light-speed

technology.

Take a good hard look at what is happen-

ing in the Good Ole USA today--over 400

million guns, more than one for every man,

woman and child in the country. And a

Congress which blatantly and irresponsibly

fails to restrict access to military-style weapons

of mass destruction. We’re talking death and

devastation here, folks, the death of our children

and thousands of innocent others.

Our Second Amendment Rights to own and bear

firearms, some claim. Where are women’s rights

to their own prenatal health care? Where are

parent’s rights to ensure the safety of their children?

And what about a citizen’s right to vote, and every-

one’s right to love and be loved by the ones they

choose to love?

I happen to love Picasso’s work and Beethoven’s

Symphonies; you think Picasso’s stuff sucks and

listen to Nitty Gritty Dirt Band. I can live with that.

By the way, it’s your turn to take the trash out

today. Put the friggin’ smart phone down, and

pay attention, I’m talking to you!

                                -30-

Chris Hanch 4-19-2023