Story Telling

 

In my life I have had the pleasure of

knowing two guys who could tell a

good story, Dan and John.

Now, these two fellows didn’t know

each other, but they shared a similar

talent, they were naturals when it

came to the spoken word.

Unlike me and others who attempt to

convey a story in writing, Dan and John

could reel off tale after tale verbally

and keep your interest peaked as they

left you hanging on their every word.

And what’s more, they streamed their

lines flawlessly live and in person, with

perfect precision every time. They always

left you wanting for more. Natural story

tellers both.

I often wondered, had they ever met

personally, which one would outshine

the other. More than likely, they would

carry on simultaneously each uniquely

framed to the benefit and applause of

their audience.

Now I and many writers of my kind rely on

making frequent changes and corrections

in our work. We constantly rearrange, edit,

polish and rephrase words and lines in order

to make our stories more palatable.

We strive to make the written words flow

as if they were elequently spoken as Dan

and John do so fluently and naturally.

I would relate some of their work for you

here, but I could never do it justice. You

had to be there.

Mark Twain and Will Rogers would properly

be comperable, but they’re gone now too.

Believe them or not, Dan and John would

nevertheless always entertain with wild

and whimsical pages of their vivid imaginations.

                 -30-

Chris Hanch 9-12-2020

Coffee Cake

 

Got to thinking about walking home from

school when I was in fourth grade at Mary

Queen of Peace. It seemed like a long way,

I walked to and from each day.

Revisiting my old neighborhood as an adult,

I drove that route and calculated the distance

to be a little over a half-mile. Good daily ex-

ercise for a kid my age.

Sometimes when I got within viewing dis-

tance of my house, I’d see a yellow Ford

sedan parked out front. That was my Aunt

Margaret’s car. She would come to visit

Mom every couple of weeks.

Mom rarely got out. She told my brothers

and me that she had some sort of liver dis-

ease, and had no energy to go anywhere on

her own. So, she spent most of her days

at home.

Anyway, Aunt Margaret would drop by for

a visit now and again. I was always happy to

see her car when I was coming home from

school.

I liked Aunt Margaret. She was older than

my mom. She never got married, and had

no children, but she was a very nice lady.

She didn’t ignore my brothers and me

like most adults did. Always a smile and

questions about what we were up to.

Another thing I could count on, she would

always bring what Mom and she called a

coffee cake from Straub’s Grocery Store.

It wasn’t until I was older did I know why

they called it that.

I thought it was funny because each cake

was always different. Why did they call so

many kinds “coffee cake?” How did the

baker know which one you wanted if you

simply asked for a coffee cake? Needless

to say, I was confused.

But no matter, each cake Aunt Margaret

brought tasted good. And it was a real

treat for me to have something sweet to

eat after a long, boring day at school.

Now, Mom and Aunt Margaret have long

since passed away. And I got to thinking,

I haven’t had a good coffee cake in years.

I have also learned that coffee cakes come

in a variety of ways, but generally they are

served with coffee, hence the name, ”coffee

cake.”

Personally I’ve always preferred milk with my

cake. Either way, I’m sure any baker worth his

salt would think me crazy should I ask him for

his finest “milk cake.” No matter, I suppose,

most bakers probably couldn’t care less about

which one I ordered, or what I choose to drink

with my cake.

                       -30-

Chris Hanch 9-11-2020

Negotiations

 

Don’t get out and about anymore.

The body is in payback mode for

the abuse I put it through in the past:

Too much booze, smoking and heavy

lifting.

I say, “Move” and the hip and legs

say, “Make me!” (Vengeful and

obstinate bastards! We’ve been

through a lot together.

Now we’re stuck with the way

things are, I explain. And I realize

it’s too late to take back every bad

situation I’ve put you through; I

feel your pain. So sorry!

Unfortunately, my body and mind

do not see eye-to-eye. It’s worse

than trying to negotiate with the

North Koreans.

I’m a hostile adversary with my

own body. I’ve even tried looking

cross-eyed, but my damn nose

gets in the way.

              -30-

Chris Hanch 9-11-2020

A Tale to Tell

A Tale to Tell

1984 . Living alone in a studio apartment in St. Louis.

Nearly broke. Part-time job as a server for El Torito’s

crap-for-food, wanna-be Mexican Restaurant. Divorced,

depressed, drinking heavily.

Made a cold call at Concordia Publishing for possible

free-lance artwork. They had a project underway, a slide

film program (religious education) for children.

They needed an artist to render approximately 70 or so

full color illustrations. Had to also supply sketches

which conformed to the program’s concept and script

under the direction and approval of the program producer.

A shit-pot load of work with a two week deadline. Pay,

as I recall, in the $2000 range (not a staggering sum for

the work involved). But you know, any port in a storm.

I owed the IRS a tidy sum in back taxes, was indebted

to two lawyers for my previous divorce, had rent and

utilities to pay, needed to eat, smoke and guzzle my

booze on a daily basis. Couldn’t be a better scenario

for a starving artist movie or play.

Fed up being married, middle class, suburban home owner,

8 to5 Monday through Friday white-collar job. I was living

on the edge, an artist’s dream of a lifetime, albeit unmanage-

able and scarier than hell.

Tried to sub-contract another artist to help out, but couldn’t

find one either able or willing to assist. “What, are you crazy,

Man? That job for the money sucks! I was in over my head

and on my own.

Well folks, I won’t bore you with all that particulars, but I

did it: I survived, made the deadline, payed my bills, found

another job as an art director for a small ad agency.

I sailed along beautifully for the next four years. And then

all hell broke loose again. Which is another story to be told

another day should I have the balls or the energy to explain.

All that said, I humbly submit a sampling of artwork I

rendered for the Concordia Publishing Project way back

in the vintage year of Our Lord, 1984.

Chris Hanch 9-10-2020

 

Something About the Weather

 

It has been a long hot and humid summer.

In Missouri, summers are always that way.

Early September now and one day it’s a

sticky smothering 90-degrees and the next

a cool down into the mid 60s.

There will most assuredly be more heat

before Autumn arrives, but one senses

the coming change.

Labor Day has passed and the first NFL

game is tomorrow, my Chiefs against The

Texans.

In a few weeks the leaves will change and

every morning will breathe a northerly

chill.

I hate the dog days of summer; can’t say

I care for the bone chilling cold of January

or February either. I’m most comfortable

with temperatures in the 60s and 70s.

I have become accustomed to the changes

in seasons the Midwest throws at you, but

at my age the extremes become more and

more intolerable.

Had my dog groomed back in mid-July. Her

hair grows fast and must be uncomfortable in

the heat of summer. I noticed the other day

how long it had become over a relatively short

period of time.

One day blistering heat outside, and before you

know it the bitter bite of winter. My dog, she has

her hair and not a care; me, I have my old age

aches and pains, and for now a light jacket will do.

                       -30-

Chris Hanch 9-9-2020

Something About Origins

I saw a posting from my nephew

on Facebook the other day. It was

a photo of a painting I had done

some 48-years ago, one of many

I had long since forgotten.

When you have been doing artwork

for most of your life as I have, one

tends to forget many pieces rendered

along the way.

I must admit that some of those

works were not my best, but none

the less adequate examples for a

novice learning his craft.

One tends to change and even

improve with practice. Much in

life goes that way, I suppose.

Anyway for all it is worth, I feel

somewhat satisfied and secure in

knowing with the scattered bread

crumb accomplishments in my life,

remembered or forgotten, that

one day (sooner than later I have

come to understand at my age),

I will enevitably find my way back

to the dusty origins from which

I came.

              -30-

Chris Hanch 9-7-2020 

The NFL Today

 

It will be interesting this season to see how

pro-football will play out. Given the Coronavirus

pandemic football stadiums across the country

will effectively be empty of riotous cheering

fans. I do, however, hope the players on both

teams will take a knee in protest as the National

Anthem plays.

There will be no parking lots filled with pregame

tailgate parties, no throngs of fans wearing team

colored and branded clothing crammed into the

stands.

My team, the 2019 Super Bowl Champion, Kansas

City Chiefs, for years now have been touted as

having the loudest decibel cheering of stadium

fans across the entire NFL franchise.

I am sure the teams will miss that extra rush of

adrenaline during those critical and tense moments

of the game when the fans generally go wild.

Oh, I suppose the players will play their game,

the die-hard fans will watch on TV seeing re-

runs of great catches, fantastic runs and busted

plays.

Extra beer will be on hand in households across

the land. I may even hear the drunken neighbors

cheering obnoxiously from the apartment next

door.

And I, a non-drinker these days, will be hoping they

go over to friends and watch the Monday Night

Football Games. I often retire around 10 PM for those.

In any case, I can hardly wait for the day Covid-19

Virus and the Trump plague go away. From a distance,

I can hear the uproarious cheering now.

                                    -30-

Chris Hanch 9-6-2020