Current State of Affairs, an Update

 

On Sunday in two days

I will have lived through

my first week since turning

seventy-four, a milestone

for me as was living my

days at seventy-three.

Of course there were all

those days and years

before which each in

it’s own rite was a new

personal record for me.

Each passing day and

year brought new reve-

lations and experiences,

although mostly the

muddled mass of time

and place cannot be

pinpointed specifically.

I cannot say on which

particular day I noticed

my first gray hair or

when or where I was

when the wrinkles over-

took my fair-skinned

youthful look. My

testosterone wasn’t

kind enough to leave

me a note when it

abandoned me.

Close as I can pinpoint

a physical decline would

be when my downhill slide

became noticeable to me

sometime after age sixty.

I have carried my bag

of ailments from each

year thereafter with

interest compounded

annually into my

seventy-fourth year.

And I’d be a damned

fool to expect things

to remain the same

or get any better

from here.

As far as my mental

state of affairs goes,

well I must say, it

never was in top-notch

shape in the first place.

However, here is a

shining light of hope

for me, until my dying

days, my erratic and

teeter-totter mental

state is likely one fewer

thing I have to worry

and bitch about.

        -30-

Chris Hanch 4-9-2021

Choices Again

 

No revelations this morning,

nothing new of consequence

to say.

Considered posting a repeat of an

older poem, but not even that

appealed to me.

Not for certain what’s for diner

later. Have several choices yet

to make.

I figure for the most part,

life is just that way—simply

boring, mostly routine

the same.

Creativity comes and goes

as the river of life flows.

Even those images have been

used countless times before.

Today, as with each and every

day before somewhere out there

history will be made.

I’ll wait and see, perhaps egg

salad and soup for dinner tonight

will do.

Could be, today shall

remain nothing ventured,

nothing gained.

I look at it this way,

Beethoven and van Gogh haven’t

come up with anything new in

years either.

At least, as I live and breathe,

I still have a few choices left

to make.

           -30-

Chris Hanch 4-9-2021

So, What's New Today?

 

A new day and something worthwhile to say.

Being disabled and shut in, my contacts will

not be face-to-face. I shall again rely upon

photographs I had taken in previous years to

provide images for me. Memories mean a lot,

my friends, more than money can buy. Let me

brew a fresh pot of coffee, and reaching across

time on Facebook, I shall share some of those

people and places with you. Best part of my

current situation and yours is I am where I am,

you are where you are, connected by the tech-

nology of today. Years ago when many of these

images were captured, who would have guessed

we could shared our mornings together in such

a way. Take your time. Should you need cream

and sugar in your coffee, go to your kitchen and

get some. I take mine black, and I can wait.

Bet you couldn’t guess I didn’t wash up this

morning, and I’m wearing the same clothes I

wore yesterday. This photo of me was taken

several years ago. Still looking good, eh?

                       -30-

Chris Hanch 4-8-2021

Go Figure

 

I know the signature of John Hancock

when I see it. I am tuned to detect the

sound of a Back fugue when I hear it.

I can pick out you face marching by

in a parade. I have learned that tigers

will bite and claw when cornered and

kittens purr naturally. I know clouds

form before the storm. Shoes will

remain securely in place on the feet

when properly laced. Nitrogen casts

a blue hue in Earth’s atmosphere. I

know what I know and know what

it takes to stay alive. Compasses will

always point to True North. Four of a

kind will beat a Full House every time.

There are rules, my friend, which will

always need to be applied. Mistakes

and excuses will be made. Not every

thing which is lost can always be re-

gained. Peter Piper picked a peck of

pickled peppers. Mary, Mary quite con-

trary, how does your garden grow?

A goddamned green thumb, or so

I’ve been told.

                   -30-

Chris Hanch 4-6-2021

The Production

 

Got a call from my physical therapist at the VA

several days ago. She wanted to set up a video

conference with me. Yes, Monday, April 5^th

at 10 AM would be fine, I told her.

She told me to be prepared to walk 10 feet so

that she could observe me. Fine, I suppose, I

told her. I’ll have to set up the right angle on

my computer, and use a cane or walker allowing

me to maneuver for you to see. Fine, she said.

10-steps, I wondered why that number? What

would she be able to tell from that? It would

be much easier to tell her, even 10-steps will

hurt like hell.

Then again, I suppose my impression of hell

might be different than hers. I could set fire to

my place and walk through the flames. At least

that way, I’d get my point across.

Were I capable of making the production using

CGI, it would be a far more dramatic illustration

of what hurting like hell really looks like. (You know,

9- steps, not so much; 11-steps, a hell of a lot more.)

Anyway, I eyeballed the whole thing, and unfor-

tunately from a production standpoint, I can

probably only manage 8-steps before hitting

the wall.

I got it, an Academy Award Performance…

I can picture myself now, a close up shot,

cigarette dangling from my lips as I say,

"Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all

the world, she walks into mine." But then,

I tend to be a bit over-dramatic about such

things.

                      -30-

Chris Hanch 4-5-2021

The Birthday Card

 

Tomorrow is my 74^th birthday.

Hard for me to believe that I

have come so far in life,

knowing what I now know

and considering everything

I don’t. What a circuitous and

tangled journey it has been.

Anyway, my son visiting me

yesterday gave me a silly birth-

day card. It pictured a scabby

old man sporting a straw cow-

boy hat, smoking a big old

stogie, wearing a short-sleeved

shirt and faded blue jeans.

Instead of a horse, he was mounted

upon a bewildered looking donkey.

The caption inside read, “It’s your

birthday—sit on your ass all day if

you want to.” An appropriate punch

line which just about anyone could

have guessed even before opening

the card. You’d think Hallmark

could have been more creative

than that.

Amusing, however. That old man on

the cover of the card could have been

close to my age, but really did not

resemble me. That scruffy old ass,

though, it did look vaguely familiar.

                  -30-

Chris Hanch 4-3-2021

From Beginning to End

 

Often when I sit down to write, I will

come up with a fitting last line before

I even begin.

Then my mind as to build a captivating

beginning, an appropriate middle bridging

to the last line with which I began.

It’s like having a solution to a problem

which has not yet been posed. The

architect reveals his plan for the tenth

floor without having rendered the lower

floors which need to come before.

It’s a nice view from up here. I’d best

build a foundation which led me to such

heights before I try to describe the view

to you.

Words, I must find the words to

complete this floating puzzle piece

of mine, words which allows others

to see.

I could say I’m suspended aloft in

a helicopter, I suppose. Let’s you

and I start all over again, this time

from the beginning. I was flying high

one day…

                -30-

Chris Hanch 4-1-2021