A Tale of Two Wooden Stools

Two wooden stools stand by the table

in the kitchen, one poised on four legs

waiting to receive me twice a day, once

at lunch time, another to accommodate

me at the evening meal. Rarely do I partake

of breakfast most days. Always I sit on the

stool which faces me in the same direction.

The other stool waits patiently for those rare

days my son comes to visit. It remains empty,

at the ready, nonetheless, prepared for the

weight with a sturdiness all lifelong it was

built to hold.

Chris Hanch 4-9-18

Forever, Indeed What Would Life Be?

If I could live forever, I would not be writing

this today. If I could live forever, more than

likely, I would wait another day to clean my

my place. There would always be tomorrow to

consider getting things done. If I could live

forever, I would wait another hundred years

or so until I matured enough to consider

marriage again. No birthday celebrations

would be a necessity for me. Children would

grow old and pass away, and I as Dorian Gray

would tediously remain the same. I would,

however, have endless time to bear as my

deeds would exceed my ability to recall the

ledgered plus and minuses of my existence.

And should you be the one leaving instead

of me, I should never find the need to say

goodbye. On second thought, I suppose today

is as good as any other to give this finite time

of mine one more shot, as I should probably

consider tidying myself up a bit...just in case.

Chris Hanch 4-8-18

A Sense for Fashion

If it’s true what they say that clothes
make the man, then in my time I have
made some fashion-sense mistakes.
Blue jeans and a dirty t-shirt, PF Flyer

sneakers were appropriate for play.
A striped tie, white shirt and a fitting
3-button jacket were required for
weddings,funerals and many of the

jobs I’ve held throughout my life. I’ve
been teased a time or two for wearing a
sweater-vest knitted with a diamond
pattern. (I happened to love that damned

pull-over.) At work one day, a woman
called me a nerd because of my preference
in wearing apparel; another asked me if I
had a pocket protector in my shirt beneath?

Had I decided not to wear a pair of pants,
I’m pretty sure that I would have avoided
those embarrassing comments that day.
And as a footnote, I must say (to those of

you who may be wondering), I happened
to be wearing that sweater vest to cover
a stain which came from not wearing a
pocket protector on the only white shirt I

owned. And I ask you, dear reader, what in
hell is wrong with diamond shapes anyway?

Chris Hanch 4-6-18

What a Good Man Does

Some men pan for gold. Most never find the riches

they are seeking. There are those who long to see

their names lighted atop the marquee. Fame comes

to a select few. Mostly, I have known men who have

labored tirelessly, making their way each day, for

years on end just to pay the mortgage and feed

their families. Their wealth and riches come from

the content beating in their heart. I could name

some of them right here, but I know they would

prefer to remain anonymous. They may brag,

however, over a child who is about to graduate

from college with honors. How many days of

dedication and selflessness does it take to be able

to do that? A good man will often claim (and rightly

so): good kid, but I’ll have to say, she takes after

her mother.

Chris Hanch 4-5-18

Road Trip

Ever been on a long road trip, miles away

from the next town? You passed the sign by

the interstate—Abilene, 50 miles. And you

decide to test the gauge which indicates

you’re sitting on less than a quarter of a tank.

E means empty and you’re in a hurry to get

where you’re going, so you’re willing to take

a chance. How low is low, how far can you

really go? Gutsy move. That’s always been

you—Go for broke. Old Betsy won’t let you

down. It is then you remember that there is

a town named Abilene in Kansas and another

by the same name in Texas. Last time you

checked, you were driving on I-40 across

Oklahoma. Somewhere between here and

there you must have gotten turned around.

Towns around these parts are few and far

between. Come on, Betsy, old girl, you can

make it. The needle on your gas gauge is

doing its death wriggle on E...shame on you!

You awaken abruptly in a cold sweat. You
are nowhere near Abilene, Kansas or Texas.

Chris Hanch 4-4-18

It's Time

It’s time. You have lived past prime.

You had given it a thought or two in

passing before, but never envisioned

it coming to this. You have exhausted

your bag of tricks. Broken twigs and

a few choice memories are all which

remain. Still, you continue to haul it

around. You find a distorted comfort

in your new found routine. Another

New Year is of no consequence to

you; there are no more resolutions

to be made. It is purely symbolic of

your freedom from responsibility that

there is but one key remaining on the

chain. From the outside, it locks the

front door to your apartment. From

now on you can manage that from the

inside alone. You spread those broken

twigs out across the living room floor.

What worries remain? Nothing anymore.

Chris Hanch 4-3-18

Success

Secrets of success some wise men say—

work harder, work smarter each and

every day. Me, personally, I invoke my

own rule of thumb to claim with a smug

assuring nod and wide-spread smile

across my face—relishing time off mostly,

and when no one is looking, a lengthy nap

after lunch in the middle of day.

Chris Hanch 4-1-18