Saturday, December 28, 2013

2013 (A short) Year in Review

By: Larry Hyatt

Obamacare was #1.
Republicans cried, “Ain’t working.”
My doctor said,
“Now, touch your toes,”
And hope we're only twerking.”

Pope Benedict resigned,
He wanted out
Said, “That is that.”
Pope Francis who’s a modern man,
Put Wi-Fi in the hat.

The Royal Family had a child,
Its gender kept hush-hush.
The potty is now regal, too.
And makes a royal flush.

The China Rover, it reached Mars,
They claim was for a stake out.
With all the great buffets down here
Seems far to go for take-out.

We lost a bunch,
Thatcher, Cory, Mandela, Gandolfini,
He’d shoot you right between the eyes
Then claim I’m not meanie.

Archie’s wife, Mr. Winters,
George Jones hung up his boots.
Ester Williams, too.
Men loved the way,
She filled those bathing suits.

The break-ups they came, many
Hollywood loose as a goose.
Chloe, Sister Kim
Their momma
Left her stretched out husband, Bruce.

Julianna-Seacrest,
Clooney-Keibler,
Perry and the Mayer,
Mike and Catherine Zeta Jones,
But she knew he was a play-a.

Taylor Swift and Harry Stiles
Could not make amends
David and now Courtney Cox,
Officially are friends.

The world moves on
2013 is history that we’re sure.
The next year will bring crazy times,
Of that we must endure.

Our third rock it keeps spinning,
Farther into space,
May in the year 2014
You finally win the race.

May you have a wonderful and Happy New Year!

Thursday, December 26, 2013

Author Interview with Larry Hyatt

Stacie Theis@beachboundbooks 24 Dec
~Larry Hyatt~ How to Reach for the American Dream..(And Not Get It!)

Sunday, December 22, 2013

Last Night I had a Crazy Dream

I friend said they really enjoyed this last year. I thought I would repost it.
        
          It was cold and dark and as I walked through my neighborhood I was scared. The weather was whipping against my body.  It was the pressures of life and no one was around to help. My clothes were tattered, hanging, and with my arms folded in front of me, my head was down to keep winter off my face. Pushing, I seemed to be searching for something but didn’t know what or why.
         Suddenly, a gust of wind lifted my head and stopped me in my tracks. There, to my left was a snowman, a pleasant Christmas decoration with a happy smile, but it upset me.
         “What? You’re mocking me, too?” I yelled. You think everyone is happy at Christmas? Wipe that stupid smile off your face!”
         I reached back, to slap that carrot nose and he came to life. I was taken aback. My eyes widened, frighten, I stood still.
         The snowman removed his scarf, and sticking out his hands, presented it for me to take. I backed up instead. He then raised it, slightly, as if to say, “Here, it’s yours.”
         Cautiously, I took the steps toward him and reached out, accepted the scarf, and quickly proceeded to wrap it around my neck. His arm then moved and pointed down the street. I didn’t know what to do so I dipped my head in gratitude and walked on following his direction, once again, noticing the cracks on the broken sidewalk.
         Onward I trekked, again keeping my head down to spare my face, when another gust of wind lifted it. There, next to me were more decorations, these of a children’s choir with hymnals in hand, dressed in early 20th century Christmas clothes, bundled and warm.
         This time the choir came alive, and I jumped back as it began the song “Joy to The World,” the loud boisterous rendition startling me. I smiled in amusement as the choir sang and watched as a little girl removed her earmuffs and hand them to a little boy. The little boy then removed his gloves and handed all the articles to me. Politely, he said “Merry Christmas, sir,” and pointed down the street.
         Again, I dipped my head in appreciation and moved on until I came to a house with decorations in the yard depicting presents under a Christmas tree. One of the presents was lit brighter than the others so I walked toward it, and written on the box was my name. I was shocked. I thought, “This can’t be. This isn’t real. I’ve never cared about these neighbors.”
         Suddenly, the box started moving and I retreated. It shook, violently, as if ready to erupt and with a loud pop a large “Jack in the Box,” popped out with a heavy overcoat in his out stretched arms. I fell backwards to the ground. It scared the living daylights out of me.
         I took a moment, and on all fours, slowly crept to the Jack in the Box. I grabbed the coat but this time started running, putting the coat on as I went. When I was far enough away I slowed down now nice and warm with my new scarf, gloves, earmuffs, and coat.
         I couldn’t believe my luck. I was ready to find more. I wanted more. What more can I get? Maybe, I can find that snowman again, and get his hat, too.
         Walking again with my head held high, in the distant down the street, I saw a house with what looked like more decorations. This time I ran to it, elated that I would find more. As I got closer, comprehending what was coming into view, I slowed my pace. I was humbled when I realized it was a life-sized nativity scene complete with a manger, Mary and Joseph beside it, the animals, wise men, all real, all alive and to my astonishment the baby Jesus lying in that manger. The light upon him blinded my eyes. I shielded them, now, feeling not worthy to receive him.
         Staring, I felt others, and upon looking behind me saw a sea of people, all nationalities, admiring the beauty of the light, the power of it, reminding me my gifts were his gifts to me. I walked toward it. I reached my hand out slowly, wanting to touch the brightness, wanting to feel it's warmth, wanting to know if that light was my light. I was just about to touch it when I felt my shoulders shake, and heard…
         “Larry, Larry, wake up, you’re having a dream.”
         Noticing I was in my room, I realized it was my wife.
         “Are you all right?” she asked. “You were dreaming.”
         “Yeah, Yeah, I’m OK… Man that was weird. I was… talking to Christmas decorations… they were coming to life. Oh man, that was strange.”
         “You scared me, Larry. You kept screaming, “I’m not worthy. I’m not worthy.”
         “Really?”
         “Yeah.”
         “Wow… Well… I’m okay now… Go back to sleep, honey.”
         “Don’t do that again,” she said looking into my eyes.
          I smiled and trying to comfort said, “I’m alright. I’m fine. I’m OK. Go back to sleep.”
         I rolled over, shut my eyes, and tried to go back to sleep, but while remembering the dream, I thought about all the wonderful things that I have in my life.
        My eyes opened again. I asked the wall, “Am I worthy?”

Sunday, December 8, 2013

Jon Claude “Bill” Dufrene Dead at age 70


Montegut, LA- World renowned, South Louisiana duck carver Jon Claude “Bill” Dufrene was found dead in his Montegut, La. work shop early Saturday morning. No foul play is expected but oddly noted was his prize carvings strategically displayed in order by the years in which he achieved his premiere successes.

His wife of 51 years, Madeleine, said, “He had been feeling under the weather but when he got up Saturday, everything seemed okay. I mean, he first was his ornery self but then I served him his Captain Crunch. Oh, he loved Captain Crunch, being a Navy man for all them years. I went check on him ‘bout 11:30 in the shed, for his lunch, and that’s when I found him dead. I called the 911 but I think he was gone because he always quickly turned off the TV when I came in. That and he had a sly, wicked smile on his face.”

Jon Claude first received recognition as a duck caller in West Monroe, Louisiana. He was a young friend with the now famous Phillip Robertson of the Duck Commander Duck Calls and reality television show Duck Dynasty. Rumor has it that at the state duck calling competition as boys, Jon Claude was a clear winner, but Phillip got the first prize. When the two young men were on stage to receive the blue and red ribbons a fight ensued, Jon Claude taking an extreme shot to the mouth. Jon Claude’s lip was split and required stitches. After removing those stitches, Jon Claude had a massive scar and because of that injury he couldn’t achieve the sound he needed to call ducks. Jon Claude bitterly quit the sport. Some say he would never be the same.

But, the love of water fowl hunting consumed him. He picked up a knife and paint brush and started to carve while watching the PBS painter Bob Ross on TV, learning the strokes needed to be “happy, happy, happy.” Something he coined on the microphone that night at that fateful competition as a boy.  

He started winning numerous local, state, and national duck carving contests and in 1995 voted top five in the world, his forte being the bill, thus, the nickname. His peers would say that he always achieved the perfect duck bill.  He was quoted after a long night of drinking at BJ’s Lounge, “Man, it’s the part the duck talks with, damn it. The curves, the seamless line into the face, you gotta get that right. Let’s say the duck wanted to call people. He’d use a people call, right? But if his bill ain't right, if he can't communicate, he can't speak to his people friends, his buddies as a boy. Look, I love making all my special little birds but I can’t talk to them, not the right way. Damn it, you don’t understand. I can’t use that telepathy.”

The locals loved him, too, always going to shows and giving pointers, never too tired to speak to the young people to inspire and keep the art of duck carving alive, and never too afraid to take his prize carvings out in the field.

Jon Claude once said, “At dawn, with the sun coming up, I like to look at my art work out on the pond. I imagine they could fly, take off with the others that came in. Well, the one’s that didn’t get shot. They would fly, high and away, and come back next year, my friends that I created, with their perfect little bills. They’ll speak to me, tell me of their adventures, and I’ll understand. Sometimes I cry at night because I can’t answer their questions.”

Services will be Tuesday.

 

Sunday, December 1, 2013

Cyber Monday

By: Larry Hyatt

(Sung to the tune: Monday, Monday
By: The Mamas and the Papas)

Cyber Monday (Ba-da ba-da-da-da)
Don’t need a tree (Ba-da ba-da-da)
Computer all day, (Ba-da ba-da-da)
At work I’ll be. (Ba-da da-da)

Oh, Cyber Monday,
I’ll be joining, millions, clicking with glee…..
I’ll be on line; I’ll save the time,
But I’ll pay the fee (Ba-da ba-da-da-da)

Every other day (every other day)
Every other way in the week is fine… yeah.
But when Cyber Monday comes (but cyber Monday comes)
I won’t be standing
In some freakin’ line.

Cyber Monday (Ba-da ba-da-da)
Won’t spend on gas (Ba-da ba-da-da)
Cyber Monday (Ba-da da-da-da)
Kids, no pain in the ass. (Ba-da da-da-da)

Cyber Monday (Ba-da da-da-da)
Just love that day (Ba-da da-da-da
Cyber Monday (Ba-da da-da-da)
Is Christmas in decay? (Ba-da da-da-da)

Oh, Cyber Monday,
No work done fun day,
Oh, Cyber Monday.