The Dude In Red

I’VE NEVER FOUND THE DUDE IN RED TO BE INTERESTING. In fact, nothing would make me more happier than to see him arrested this year for climbing down our chimnies, eating our cookies and drinking our glasses of milk.

That red suit and big beer belly of his is repulsive to me. His white beard, big black belt, and Christmas hat makes him suspicious rather than inviting to me. And his occupation; flying around on a magic sleigh and then climbing down chimnies leaving gifts for children who were nice, is just not appealing nor is it realistic to me.

Then talk about the raindeers, the little elf helpers, and the whole naughty-list thing, how could any of that possibly make sense? And what about him being allowed to enter our homes without notice when we’re all asleep—isn’t that a crime? I’m sure we can charge him for breaking and entering this season—effectively putting him out of work for a very long time! Other people, like my little sister and both our mother and father, may buy his charm and surreptitious behaviors, but I don’t.

Every year, all I think about is Santa Claus in court, and in handcuffs, wearing his phony outfit, and being sentenced by a judge—getting what he deserved for never responding to all the letters I’ve sent him. Our mother keeps telling me that he will answer once I start being nice at school and leaving all the nerdy kids alone—but he hasn’t. Every year in December, I’m always nice but he never writes back nor leaves me anything under the Christmas tree. Either our mother is lying about him writing back or the two of them are working together every Christmas—I don’t care, either way, I’ve had it!

When he comes this year, I am going to be waiting for him and his little elf helpers—and then I’m going to wake our mother up. And, because she loves me she’s going to finally do something about him not writing back or bringing me coal each year!

December 25th, Christmas morning

“Mr. Santa Claus do you know why you’re here today?” asks the judge. “Yes, ma’am I do,” Santa replies. ” I was caught doing what I usually do, your honor…” Which is?” the judge curiously asks. ” I was quietly climbing down the chimnies at night to deliver presents to nice children—when all the sudden, I got spotted by a kid whose mother was a judge. “That’s right Mr. Claus,” replied the judge, “And that was my child who spotted you wasn’t it?” Santa Claus replies, “Yes, it was, your honor.”

The judge looked over at me and somehow managed to find me with her eyes despite all the tall adults around. My little sister and our dog, Dexter were sitting next to me—-and they weren’t angry, but I could tell that they were disappointed that I ratted on Santa Claus. “Mr. Santa Claus is my child here in this court today?” she asked. “Yes, he…is, your honor,” Santa answered, while his lawyer hopelessly stood next to him. “Can you point him out, Mr. Claus?” our mother asked. “Yes, I can, your honor,” Santa replied, and now, turning his body to point his shaky finger at me. “He’s right there, your honor!” Santa said with such a sad look on his face. “Little Danny,” said Santa, “All I wanted was for you to finally have a good, Merry Christmas. I was gonna leave you something this year, but—”

“Honey, you can stop now,” our mother said. “We’ve given him his wish, and yet, he still doesn’t know.”

Know what? I thought, with a confused look on my face.

Before I could sort out what was happening and why our mother just called Santa, honey; Miley, my little sister, wrapped her arms around me and whispered into my ear, “Danny, you never were that bright….were you?”

Main photo was from Unsplash and taken by photographer, Filip Mroz

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My Coffee Experience Today

TIME FOR A WONDERFUL CUP OF COFFEE! Here it comes. Gently, slowly, and excitingly is the way the Barista carries your cup of coffee to you. What only took a few seconds to reach you, seemed like forever because of how excited you were. She’s arrived! She places it down gently and steadily, next to your glasses and slick book—“To have and have not,” by Ernest Hemmingway.

“Thank you!” you say to the Barista, whom, herself was looking rather attractive, with her auburn-colored hair, smooth porcelain skin, and skinny waist. That aroma, that pleasant, inviting look, and that soothing feeling as the brim of the coffee cup hit your lips and then the content trickles down your throat. Ahh, that’s it—sip it slow. Enjoy the taste. Enjoy the feeling. And savor the moment!

A cup of Coffee is good for the soul. A cup of coffee untangles the mind and gets the thoughts flowing freely. And a cup of coffee makes everything feel okay. Sip-sip-sip! Slow down cowboy, you’re sipping too fast. You just can’t help yourself, can you? That cup of coffee tastes so good. It’s heavenly taste got you all caught up, didn’t it?

It’s quiet, relaxing, and cozy in this joint—plenty of pictures, colorful customers, and pretty Baristas to keep the eye busy for quite some time. Sip-sip-sip!

You turn over a few pages, glance at the new customers, and trace your jawline with your pen—unaware of that Barista with the auburn-colored hair, smooth porcelain skin, and skinny waist staring at you. The weather outside is cold; snowflakes are falling like un-maned parachutes, children are clinging to their parents for warmth, and good samaritans are holding the door open for people like them to enter the coffee place. Look how relieved and nostalgic they look when they enter the coffee place!—it gets me all the time.

You should probably get going—-you’ve been here for a while. You should probably say something to that Barista with that auburn-colored hair, smooth porcelain skin, and skinny waist before you leave. But you won’t, will you? You’re too scared, too goofy, too afraid you’ll say the wrong thing. Sip-sip-sip!

It looks like you’ve drank it all—and I see you’re staring at the bottom of the cup. It’s okay, Mr. I’m too chicken to talk to the Barista with the auburn-colored hair, smooth porcelain skin, and skinny waist. How about you order another coffee! Maybe that’ll buy you enough time to find your courage, Mr. I’m too chicken to talk to the Barista with the—-

“Hey, pretty Barista!…can I get another cup of coffee, please?….and this time with something special on the side?”

“No problem, sir, I thought you would never ask…coming right up!”

Main photo from Unsplash and taken by photographer, Clem Onojeghuo

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4th of July, The Day We, Too, Declare Our Independence

the haymarket riots 1920s

Do you want to know who you are? Don’t ask. Act! Action will delineate and define you.”

Quote by Thomas Jefferson

I believe that the working-class and our allies should arm themselves—-in preparation of the dark days that are ahead of us. And by arm, I mean, not only with guns but with knowledge. Doings so, will enable us to defend ourselves from the social, economic and political annihilation that’s been taking place underneath our nostrils.

The poor, the youth, the old and the disenchanted few, if we do not set aside our differences, the gatekeepers of our happiness and prosperity will continue to tear us apart.

Before you shoot the messenger, I only wish to pinch you—just a little, from your many slumbers of being unlettered. My desire for you is similar to that of Benjamin Franklin, when he said, “Tell me and I forget. Teach me and I remember. Involve me and I learn.”

In the spirit of being a leader of the working-class and doing what’s right, I refuse to chalk-up my desideratum of the inevitable to history—because I was too afraid to give voice to the voiceless.

For those who may snicker at what has been said so far, or, for those who may wish to dislodge these words from their psyche for the sake of maintaining happy thoughts, I pray that you be better to me….by entertaining my soliloquies of independence….the same way you may entertain a stranger through the corridors of your home.

It is on this day, the signage of our independence, that I believe by unveiling these vaulted thoughts—upon which I have held for over twenty-six fortnights—will be sufficient enough to bring about a revolution like none other. So, consider this an invitation….of me involving you to arm, think, and take action towards a reality that “will delineate and define you.”

Click the link to see my thoughts on 9/11

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