The Mural

Around 1978, an old friend of my dad and mine, Albert Gerecht

invited my family and me down to his summer home near

Warrensburg, Missouri about an hours drive from Kansas City.

Al wanted me to paint a science fiction mural on his family room

wall.

For several decades, Al and his wide Doris (lovely folks) owned

and operated The Tax and Insurance Gallery in Kansas City. Both

art lovers, Al had a particular fondness for sci-fi.

That year I wound up owing the Feds over three-hundred dollars

in income taxes. I didn’t make a lot of money at my job. I suppose

my employer failed to withhold enough of my salary to cover the

taxes.

Well, I didn’t have enough funds to pay what I owed, so Al offered

to give me the money in exchange for painting a sci-fi mural on

his summer home family room wall. My family and I also got several

days vacation in a trailer home Al and Doris had on their 40-acre

property. Such a deal!

Al loved the mural so much he wrote a glowing letter to Roy Kroc,

founder and then chairman of McDonald’s extolling my talent,

suggesting he hire me to do murals for his worldwide hamburger

conglomerate. Needless to say that deal never materialized, but

all was in fun, and I paid Uncle Sam his due. Ray Kroc also got

a kick out of Al’s flattering proposal.

Accompanying this writing are a couple of black and white photos

of the mural I painted for Al and Doris way back when. I took the

pic in color, but time had faded the colors considerably.

Al and Doris are gone now having lived into their nineties. But as

long as I live, our enduring friendship and fond memories will remain

ever vividly colorful for me.

                                                 -30-

Chris Hanch 7-2-2023 

Not So Famous Last Words

 

Sitting in my place, Sunday, 8AM,

staring at a blank page, considering

what to write today.

Any ideas? What have you to say?

How’s life treating you, anyway?

Oh me, for the present, the time being,

I’m situated old and gray. That’s okay

as things go, you know, given my

waning physical capabilities and

advancing age.

Posted some of my photos from past

days on Facebook. As for me, the

future holds hope that I can maintain

with the faculties in me which remain.

Why is it that most books wind up with

a blank page at the end? I’ll leave that

for the publishers to explain. Has some-

thing to do with even and odd numbers,

I suppose.

That’s pretty much sums it up—

just the way life goes, even days

and odd. And at the end, blank,

there’s nothing left to say.

                 -30-

Chris Hanch 7-2-2030

Paper

How many trees did it take?

How many forests were removed?

Paper, paper, reams and reams,

carton after carton, pallet

staked upon pallet, semi-truck

following semi-truck rolling down

every highway and bi-way across

the land, nationwide, worldwide.

How many trees did it take

to supply you and I, they and them,

each and every mother and father,

sister and brother, Aunt Molly

and Uncle Bill? Think of it,

Mark Twain a hundred or so

years ago putting pen to paper

in order to create Tom Sawyer,

Huckleberry Finn. Now imagine

Shakespeare, Hemingway,

the Brontë Sisters, Beethoven,

Bach and Brahms, why hell

Puff Daddy and Fitty Cent.

Imagine all the damned

trees it took and takes to

supply Kinko’s, Fed Ex and

UPS? And here I sit with

years of bank statements

packed into boxes and

drawers, with one last

measly section of toilet

paper in my hand to finish

wiping up my morning

business.

-30-

Chris Hanch 7-1-2023 

Choices to be Made

 

He stands by the window

with a view on the world,

his world as he has known

it, his world of imagining,

mostly not his world at all,

out of his control for the

most part, free wheeling,

in reality upside down,

inside and out, turned

around. It took him miles

and miles for him to get

here, and for what? A chance

at yet another day, a different

way, perhaps more of the

same. Most days he accepts

the give and take of what he

gets, no more, no less.

Where was the beginning,

when and where comes

the end? Cynically, he

chuckles at his fate.

The dawning of a new

age. Which mask shall

he don today? Which

roll should he choose

to play, king or a god,

jester or fool for a day?

Me, he thought looking

out the window, today

which me shall I be?

                -30-

Chris Hanch 6-28-2023

Legacy

 

I shall pass

away one day

leaving behind

images of place

and time.

Partake freely

in this legacy

of mine,

set aside

or cavalierly

toss away.

Betond wishes,

nothing but death

lasts forever.

          -30-

Chris Hanch 6-37-2023

Me and My Work in Review

 

In perusing and reviewing my

illustrated, painted, sculpted,

written and photographic work

one may wonder, what in hell

was he thinking? In style, media

and subject matter, he was all over

the place. And my reply to both

the wise and untrained eye can

be defined by me plain and simple

as can be: Depending on how you

choose to look at it, gifted or cursed

with ADD, yes indeed he was. Any

other compartmentalization is

overrated.

                      -30-

Chris Hanch 6-26-2023

kingdom come

at my age

the day will come

inevitably

that day shall be

sooner than later

for me

rainy day

sunny day

partly cloudy

moon lit night

or otherwise

that fateful day

is nigh.

and should I

be aware

and be prepared

to die

rather than

slip away

in the sudden

should I

know

no more excuses

shall abide

at my last

no minutes

nor hours

left to pass

should I have

one ounce

left to say

my time

is done

and the

eternal darkness

has come

goodbye

sweet life

goodbye

gone the worry

gone the strife

nothing I could

have or

should have

is yet to come

and should

my passing

rather be

suddenly

remember me

i did all I could

as i lived

as i died

farewell

goodbye

my dears

my time

has come

the tide

rolls out

kingdom come

i’m done

                -30-

Chris Hanch 6-25-2023