Saturday, November 24, 2012

Shades of Black Friday

She was late to the bargains, of all nights for her young child to climb into bed and turn off the alarm. She knew the best deals were on the “front line,” that’s where it happens, the push/pull, the get out of my face. The "head bob" or the "snap and extend" would be passé on a day like this. Today you don’t flinch or its coal in a stocking, at least for “The Brain Dead Demons-350,” that not only annihilates zombies, but can kill at a rate of fifty per second, collect their brains and transform them back to their living state.

She hurried to the cue and took her place at the end; behind a guy she thought shouldn’t be there. He was alone and she thought, “This is woman’s work, beating the hell out of someone for toy. What the hell is this guy looking for?”

He was dashing in his uniform, the military look, fatigues that made her think he just came back from the war.  Standing in the garden section he could blend right in. Then she overheard him mention to the couple in front that he was just back from fighting in Afghanistan. Tilting her ear she caught it was brutal, lots of anxiety, and he had lost three very close friends.
A bit cold, moments later, hands in his pockets, he nonchalantly turned to her and asked, “You’re alone today, too?”

“Yeah, I would have gotten here sooner but my alarm didn’t ring, long story.”
"What are you here for?”  
“Brain Dead.”

“No kidding, the 350?”

“Oh Yea,” She smiled. “The 350… gotta have it… transforms them zom-bos back to themselves and all.”

“Must have a son, huh?”

“No. It’s a little girl. Believe it or not she loves pink, Barbie and decapitated zombies… all nice… sugar and spice.”

“You’re funny.” He said and extended his hand “My name is Cahjay… I know it’s weird.”

“My name is Laverne. And don’t even go there.”
He chuckled and asked, “So, a little girl who likes to fight, huh?”

“Yeah… go “action” figure.”

With the smiles now lingering, the seconds felt extended waiting for someone to say the next words, but just then, the doors opened and the line erupted into mayhem, the people making a mad dash for all the things that make Christmas special, the hustle, the bustle, the “gettin’ while the gettin’s good”, the gifts from Santa, the reason, the rhyme, the want of everything, if only we could.

Oddly, the young soldier took a small step toward the wall and it puzzled her, just as the crowd behind them started forcing their way past, bumping her, pushing her aside. He grabbed her arm and pulled her close just before the exhilarated mob would have knocked her down.

“My goodness,” She said, looking into his eyes, “Thank you… They could have hurt me.”

“Well you got to get that 350.”
Upon realizing she didn’t know why he was there, she asked, “Are you getting a present for a girlfriend?”
“I wish. I’m here for the quiet!”

Thursday, November 22, 2012

Too many, so I picked one.

I’m truly thankful for my mother. From an early age I wanted to entertain. My mother must have noticed because she started a progression. First it was “movement classes” and dance lessons, then taking me to auditions. Guitar and piano lessons followed, along came voice lessons, and at thirteen I discovered, “The Opera.”

At that age I was also into 70’s rock and at night, along with my friends, we shouted “Disco sucks,” “Sex, drugs, and rock and roll, AC/DC, Led Zeppelin, Boston, and ZZ Top!”

But by day, what a wonderful thing, to sing, beautiful classical music in a grand auditorium along with a cast who understood our type, notes written perfectly by meticulous composers, played by tuxedoed musicians with poignant librettos that spoke of lost love and heartache, torment, or the undying passion never fulfilled by not finding the one our hearts could adore. I close my eyes today and see the costumed courts and feel movement surrounding me, hear once again our voices in unison, the harmonies, acoustics bouncing from the interior walls, glorious tones that reached far into the rafters and back to the ears that loved each and every pitch, and the reaction from the darkness, the audience that would stir my soul.

Thanks mom, acting and singing together was the shit.

Actually, I think I did do that, in my pants, when I heard Queen’s, “Bohemian Rhapsody.”

Sunday, November 18, 2012

The Twinkie Lost Its Twinkle

By: Larry Hyatt

Oh No!
The Ho Ho
Is lost to those who care.
At least you get a Ho Ho
For a fifty in the Court Square.

What now?
What to do?
My cupboard will be bear.
My Twinkie lost its twinkle
And the union doesn’t care.

Fight back I say!
And fight back hard!
It’s not the way to treat us.
But maybe I could lose some weight
And fight my Diabetes.

But screw that,
We love these cakes,
I think I’ll go insane.
And what about the Wonder Bread,
They say I need whole grain.

Oh hell!
I’m confused!
I got to do some chillin’
Americans just won’t be right,
God bless the gooey fillin’.


Saturday, November 17, 2012

Excuse me, I floated.

By: Larry Hyatt

 When people on “Facebook” gloat they should call it “floating.” If you’ve never heard that before, that’s good. I came up with it this morning during my morning run and possibly invented another meaning of the word.
I told myself that it I reach the mileage I wanted to do today I would have to brag on Facebook. Here goes.

I reached the 13 mile mark and now I’m ready for the Heart & Soles Half Marathon,
December 1st, in Houma. It was bitter/sweet.

Can someone please come get me? I’m 13 miles from home.




Friday, November 16, 2012

Two days in the system

by: Larry Hyatt
Yesterday I spent a couple of hours, bored, at the DMV. It was related to an incident that had me in court today. You see, I had been the victim of two hit-and-runs in a year’s time.

I got the license plate number in the first incident but the first driver’s address was an empty lot, forcing me to buy another car. He totaled the car with which I didn’t have a note. It was my father’s car that I had received when he died. It was dear to me. When in it, my father seemed to be near.

My dad was still my co-pilot in the next car but was too dead to pay the note.
Enter hit and run #2.   

That had me in court today because I had parked that car downtown. Someone missed the curve in front of Smoky Row, slammed into my car and took off. They found that driver. Someone following got the license plate. Her insurance bought the car I drive now.

Interestingly enough, we’ll be back again in court on Valentine’s Day. The same day all the domestic disputes that pleaded not guilty at their arraignment return for their trial.

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Naughty Soldier

 By: Larry Hyatt
The General has been a naughty soldier,
He’ll now testify for having done rolled her,
He will catch all hell,
For doing Broadwell,
Bill Clinton says, “Got to be bolder.”

“Just deny it, you gave into lust,
The balloon will get big and just bust,
Stomp you feet and just cuss,
You lost all their trust,
You’re screwed ole’ General Petraeus.

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Justin and Selena try again.

By: Larry Hyatt

Hollywood: Justin Beiber and Selena Gomez, who called it quits recently, has decided to defy music odds and let love bring them back together. Justin told Hy Hatt News, “Selena knows the math. When three out of two celebrities never give love a try you gotta be one on one. It now takes two publicists to schedule the break-ups and two to do back togethers. Relationships are complicated, man.”
This and more later today.


Monday, November 12, 2012

Gop Turns to Taco Bell

Washington, DC: The Republican Party, in a sudden shift to a more moderate policy, has turned to the mass appeal of Taco Bell to help with their new stance on immigration.

Former Republican nominee Mitt Romney issued a statement.

 “My fellow Americans, in the wake of our devastating loss of the Hispanic vote, I’m shorting the collection plate this week and buying the franchise. You want all inclusive. I’ll give you all inclusive. You want stuff. I’ll give you stuff…tacos, enchiladas… more margarita nights, not just on Thursday, all the days that ends in “Y”.

Democratic strategist Manuel Labor refuted the comment saying, “This is just another lame attempt by the Republican Party to try and politicize a menu item, far reaching its gastronomical effect on the American people. Good God, is one’s digestive system now a political issue?”

Mr. Labor, after making that statement, was caught turning to his assistant and saying in a whisper, “Romney, what an idiot. He should have offered the chimichanga.”

This and more later today.


Sunday, November 11, 2012

Veterans Day 2012

            The Germans could never see us, crouched low, eyes just above the grass. They were looking, too, scanning the French countryside for the inferior Americans they would kill if had a chance. Oh, we were scared, petrified. If the Germans didn’t kill us my mother would have if we destroyed her award winning azaleas.

            That was the extent of my combat experience, child’s play, picking who would be a sergeant, corporal, or general. Born in 1960 I had the luxury of not being thrusted into the fighting. I did reach eighteen in 1978, the first year the government reinstated signing up for the draft. I remember going to the post office with high school buddies to sign the card. I certainly wasn’t worried about paying the ultimate price for my country. I was going to be an opera singer.

            Today, I do understand the ultimate price, dying, never to see your wife, your children grow up, your brother who protected you, the sister who gave you the girls point of view, the grandparents who spoiled you, the uncle who took you fishing, the aunt who when getting off the bus you ran to, anticipating the present, the father who instilled “never say can’t”, “never quit”, “suck it up”, “shake it off”, or the mother who’s azaleas did get "me" in a heap of trouble.

            Today, let’s thank those who are serving, Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines, Coast Guard, and The National Guard.
Hell, if you use Right Guard, today,  I’m thanking you.


Saturday, November 3, 2012

Good Luck on Tuesday

by: Larry Hyatt

The grand election is Tuesday,
I hope it’s not a booze day.
To each his own,
Who’ll gain the throne?
Well, both sides say it's doomsday.
I can’t remember a day,
When the election went away,
They don’t anymore,
And in four score,
They’ll all be back to say,

“It’s change we need,”
“For it I’ll bleed,”
“We’ve had enough,”
“The times are tough.”
“Lean forward,” 
“Wait a minute. We’re in the wrong direction.”

They’ve said this crap since I’ve been born,
I’m told was with a C-section.

“It’s the election of our lifetime,”
This time it could be true.
But I am old and what of the young?
And to whom they’re talking to?

Barack, Romney, Romney, Barack,
It’s your decision to make.
Who will be our commander- in- chief?
Our lives will be at stake.

Do pull the lever on Tuesday,
Or push the computer screen,
Your vote will count,
Whichever way,
Someone is going to scream.