A big gulp of coffee reaches the brain in less time than is reasonable to hope. With the cobwebs gone, it is time to fire up the clock. The choice is to continue to make 1923 mistakes or finally move into 1924. Someone needs to make the call, and it has to be me.

Okay, the clock is set for January 27, 1924. The location is Moscow and the time allowed is two hours. When the plunger is pulled, we find ourselves in Moscow. Dressed like it is Texas with flip-flops and shorts, the temperature turns my knees blue. It is currently -35 degrees F (-37 C), and someone should have reminded me that we need to dress for the destination and not the origin. Lesson learned for next time.

We are in Red Square, and thousands of people gathered for the state funeral for Vladimir Lenin, the co-founder of the Soviet Union. Lenin’s body is delivered to Red Square, accompanied by martial music. The crowds listen to speeches from Mikhail Kalinin, Grigory Zinoviev, and Joseph Stalin, but notably not Leon Trotsky, who had been convalescing in the Caucasus. Later, it is learned that Stalin had given Trotsky the wrong date for the funeral on purpose.

Lenin’s body is embalmed for long-term viewing and placed in a mausoleum on Red Square. He died on January 21, 1924, at 18:50, in Gorki, at age 53, after falling into a coma. The official cause of death was recorded as an incurable disease of the blood vessels.

As the funeral is completed, the alarm goes off, and back on the sofa is my destination. My test tone tells me Linda Hill has sent this week’s prompt. Here it is. Your prompt for #JusJoJan the 27th and Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “make the call.” Use it as an idiom, or use it literally. Have fun!

To see what other bloggers have done with the prompt, visit Linda’s blog. Here is the link. https://lindaghill.com/2024/01/26/the-friday-reminder-for-socs-jusjojan-2024-daily-prompt-jan-27th/

Make the Call by John W. Howell © 2023.

“Wow. Lenin died 100 years ago.”

“Well, he was buried 100 years ago.”

“To be technical. Yes. Is he still there?”

“There was talk about taking him out of the mausoleum in 2018, but it didn’t happen. Yes, he is still there.”

“Well, that’s good. I guess someone had to make the call on that.”

“Yeah, that was Putin. He put his foot down.”

“I guess that would be the final foot.”

“I think it would. You ready for the pub?”

“Sure am. Uber’s already here. It’s in the parking garage.”

“Okay, let’s walk over.”

“Here we are.”

“You’re kidding?”

“It was this or a horse wagon. I had to make the call.”

“I guess it is better than a horse wagon. You know we could pay full price and get something comfortable.”

“What fun is that?”

“We doing lights and siren?”

“Is there any other way?”

“VooDoo Ranger, here we come.”

 

 

 

A fresh cup of coffee from Her Majesty The Coffee Queen and the day can begin. It is refreshing to have a close-up and personal relationship with such royalty. After a couple of sips, thoughts turn to the clock. Opening the cabinet door and reaching for the clock means we will be taking a trip. Time to close up the doors and get to it. The clock is set to January 13, 1923. The location is Washington, D.C., and the time is two hours.

No sooner than the plunger is pulled, and we are there. The first stop is Warren Harding’s cabinet meeting, which has been happening for some time. The subject under discussion is whether or not the Post Master of the Grand Canyon is allowed to keep his dog. It seems there is a law against doing so, but the Post Master has appealed to keep him there. The decision reached is to let the President decide. With that, the cabinet meeting is adjourned.

Moving to the House of Representatives, we arrive just in time to hear Representative Upshaw of Georgia, who is attempting to make Washington dry, present evidence to Acting Prohibition Commissioner Jones in which he charged that there was an “official House bootlegger” who had a monopoly in plying his trade in the House office building. Just as the bootlegger is to be named, the alarm goes off, and the living room couch is the landing zone. It looks like 100 years haven’t changed a thing in Washington. My text tone says Linda Hill has sent me one. Your prompt for #JusJoJan the 13th and Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “close up/close-up.” Use the verbal phrase “close up” and/or the noun/adjective “close-up” somewhere in your post, or write a post in the spirit of the phrase. Have fun!

If you want to see how others handle this prompt, visit Linda’s post. Here is the link: https://lindaghill.com/2024/01/12/the-friday-reminder-for-socs-jusjojan-2024-daily-prompt-jan-13th/

Close Up/Close-up by John W. Howell © 2023

“Well, you got the prompt in.”

“You didn’t like the story?”

“Is it true?”

“All of it. Talk about a waste of time.”

“Sounds like not much happening around Washington ninety-nine years ago.”

“Meanwhile, Hitler is parading around showing off his 5000 brownshirts in protest of the French occupying the Ruir in Germany.”

“Okay, but who knew? Why did you go to 1923? You usually do one hundred years.”

“I made a mistake. It was like filling out a check in the new year and putting last year on it.”

“Yeah, I’ve done that. I hope you didn’t make any more mistakes while you were there.”

“Nope. Kept my hands in my pocket.”

“Good for you. You should get a reward.”

“Paid for by me?”

“Of course.”

“You call Uber?”

“Yup, and he is here.”

“Where?”

Over there.”

“That’s the Halloween bus from Views of the Neighborhood.”

“I know. I loaned it to the Uber driver for a price break.”

“Well, at least it has cold VooDoo Ranger on board.”

“A close-up look will point out a killer sound system.”

“Time to close up the dialogue and get on board.”

“Pubster, here we come.”

The coffee is ready in record time, which just says to me, “We love you, boss.” After a sip of the precious fluid, the thought again turns to the alarm clock. Although experience is being gained on each trip to maintain control, it seems to me that staying within a specific boundary is a good idea.

Therefore, the clock is set to December 8th, 1923. One hundred years ago. The time is set for two hours, and the plunger is pulled. Immediately, the scene changes, and My location is Madison Square Garden. There are a lot of people in the garden cheering for men on bicycles.

When questioned, the guy next to me informs me that this is the finish of the annual December Six-day race. He tells me there are fourteen thousand people in attendance.

He also says Ernest Kockler of Chicago and Percy Lawrence of San Francisco, comprising the American team, were the winners of the annual race. He fascinated me with what seemed to me to be a professional play-by-play recap of the events. He breathlessly recapped that the American riders, hanging tenaciously to the precious lap that they gained during one of the jams early in the week, finished the grind with a total mileage of 2,519 miles and 8 laps, and their one-lap margin was sufficient to give them the honors.

Thanking him for the information, the bell clanging means my time is up here in New York. In an instant, the familiar surroundings of the home told me the adventure is over. My phone buzzes, and a text arrives from Linda Hill. It reads.

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “to me.” Find a way to use the phrase “to me” in your post. Use it any way you’d like. Enjoy! To see what other bloggers have done with this prompt, visit Linda’s post. Here is the link: https://lindaghill.com/2023/12/08/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-dec-9-2023/

To Me by John W. Howell © 2023

“To me, this alarm thing needs to be ramped up.”

“What do you mean.”

“You’re stuck in going back 100 years.”

“Yeah, like I explained so as not to run into trouble.”

“Come on. There are more interesting things to see other than a bunch of sweaty jocks on bikes.”

“I suppose you are right.”

“Darned right, I’m right.”

“I  guess we could look up an event we wanted to visit.”

“Yeah, Like the ending of prohibition or Crusades. Anything but the 1920s.”

“Okay, next week we’ll try it.”

“Great. Let’s go celebrate.”

“Unlike every week.”

“Oh, come on. You know what I mean.”

“Did you order Uber?”

“He’s right over there.”

“I don’t see him.”

“That orange thing blowing leaves.”

 

“You gotta be kidding.”

“What’s the matter?”

“Riding a blower to the pub?”

“Heavy discount.”

“And high visibility, let alone where to sit.”

“We stand behind the operator.”

“It looks to me like we might be better off walking.”

“That is another thing.”

“What.”

“We have to bag the leaves.”

“Sometimes I wonder about you.”

“It’s good exercise. Here’s your rake and gloves.”

“I can’t wait to see us on the ride home.”

 

 

The brew machine delivers a cup of steaming stuff faster than usual. There is more time to fool with the clock. The clock is in the pantry, and the pantry door closes after fetching it. Another dial appears on the back of the clock for the first time. There is a small clock face and a dial. The word ‘alarm’ is beside the face. Looking at my watch, the local time is nine o’clock. So if the alarm is set for Ten o’clock, it will give me an hour in the past.

The alarm is set, and the day and year are chosen: November 24, 1923. Now, to pull the pin to engage. Whoa, that was fast. According to the stadium sign, the location is Forbes Field. That’s a stadium that was in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. It looks like the game is over since most are leaving. Inside is a giant scoreboard with the names Carnegie Tech and Visitor. It looks like the visitors won the game 23 to zero.

A program is on one of the seats, and the visitors have been identified. It is Knute Rockne’s Notre Dame football team. It looks like the game was a little one-sided. The local folks don’t look too happy, but the Notre Dame folks are all singing and laughing.

A guy from the radio station is interviewing Rockne, saying that the game didn’t reflect his team’s strength. He mentions that they could have done more but decided to allow some first-year members to get some experience. That seems reasonable since, for Notre Dame, the score seems modest indeed.

A bell goes off, and my living room replaces Forbes Field. In my hand, the program has turned into a message from Linda Hill. It reads. Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “something that closes.” Write about the first thing that pops into your head that closes. Enjoy!

To see how others handled the prompt, visit Linda’s post. Here is the link. https://lindaghill.com/2023/11/24/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-nov-25-2023/

Something That Closes by John W. Howell © 2023

“The pantry door was a cheap way around the prompt.”

“Well, ours does.”

“Tell me again why you don’t use the pronoun, ‘I'”

“Too many first person, present tense stories overuse the pronoun. Everyone gets tired of seeing ” I, I ” all the time.”

“Okay, I get that. Once in a while wouldn’t hurt.”

“I suppose, but I’m trying to do a story without.”

“You just said I.”

“Y0u and are a talking. That’s not what I mean.”

“I’m confused. You know what else closes?”

“Yes, the pub. Did you order an Uber?”

“He’s here.”

“By those Amish buggies?”

“He’s is one of those Amish buggies.”

“Why did I ask?”

“Enquiring minds want to know.”

“Maybe we should walk.”

“Come on. It will be fun.”

 

 

Coffee frees the mind and stimulates the soul. It drips from the spout like it has all day, not knowing the quivering mass witnessing the slow process is about to explode. It finally fills the cup, which reaches the lips just in time. One sip and the affirmation of living one more day is assured. The brain thanks the hand for delivering the wake-up medicine critical to jump-start the thinking process.

With a free-basing brain in gear, the memory of the alarm clock comes rushing in like the sea through an open port hole. The memory seems as messy as a ton of seawater on the floor. The clock sits where it was left. Poor me is the thought in my mind as the task of trying to figure out what to do with it bounces around in my head like a marble in a fishbowl.

Looking at the face provides no clue. There is one big face with hands, one little face with hands, and one medium-sized face with just numbers and one hand. The back has three wind-up keys. One marked time, one marked alarm, and the final marked travel. Beside each key is a small dial, which looks like it is used to set the time and alarm. The question is, what could the dial near the travel key be used for? After fiddling, it is found to move the one-hand face. To set the time, you pull out the dial, move the hands, and punch it in. The alarm is set the same way. The travel dial, when pulled out, moves a single hand to any of the twelve numbers. It is discovered that repeated pulling and pushing of the dial makes the numbers appear in a little window that looks like an odometer with room for seven numbers.

Further experiments causes me to enter my birthday in the odometer window. The next stop is Harper Hospital in Detroit, Michigan, the place of my birth. An alarm goes off, and then back home again. Standing in awe before the clock, which is now on the floor, I get a text. It is from Linda Hill. It reads Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “oo.” Find a word with “oo” in it or just use “oo” because why not? Whatever you decide on, use it any way you’d like. Enjoy!.

To see what other bloggers have done with the prompt, visit Linda’s blog. Here is the link. https://lindaghill.com/2023/10/27/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-oct-28-2023/

OO by John W. Howell © 2023

“That is some clock.”

“No kidding.”

“So, is it magic?”

“I have no idea. I looks that way.”

“You need to find out sooner rather than later.”

“It seems that it can be set for any year.”

“What made the alarm go off?’

“You got me there. Maybe Google has an answer.”

“I think you did something goofy before you took off to the place of your birth.”

I think I could set it for any time I want.”

“Just don’t set it for doomsday.”

“When is that?”

“No one knows.”

“I can’t very well set the date if I don’t know it.”

“You could make a mistake, too.”

“Now is the time for a Voo Doo. Did you call Über?”

“He’s parked in the drive.”

“That’s a herse.”

“Think how much room we will have coming home.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We can sack out in the back.”

“Maybe you can. I’ll ride up front, thank you.”

“After enough Voo Doo, the back will be proof I made a good deal.

 

If a deity is in charge of coffee, then it would be a good idea to offer thanks. The dark, steamy liquid waits for my approving sigh. There it is, the first sip and then the crashing reminder of that box on the back patio. Yelling, “What a curse,” does no good for poor Twiggy’s nerves. She can only react to the volume level of the expression.

Once Twiggy is off the ceiling, finding out what is in the box must be addressed. Another ear placed against the box produces the same result as last time, namely, no sound. A crowbar comes in handy to remove the top. Peering over the edge gives no information since whatever is in there is surrounded by packing material.

Pulling out each piece of material gets me down to another box. The top is quick work, and inside is a clock. It appears to be an old-fashioned alarm clock with two large bells on the top. On the back is a key to wind for the clock and one to wind for the alarm. There is also a third key that is unmarked. The thought goes through my mind that this is a strange gift from the CEO of Warner Brothers. Instructions for the clock are in the box as well. When there’s time, they should be read.

While holding and inspecting the clock, my attention goes to a sudden movement beside the box. It is a carrier pigeon with a message attached to its leg. The message when unrolled reads Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “material.” Use it any way you’d like. Have fun! Obviously, it is from Linda Hill. If you would like to read other responses to the prompt, visit Linda’s blog at https://lindaghill.com/2023/10/20/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-oct-21-2023/

Material by John W. Howell © 2023

“You sure Linda doesn’t set up these prompts for you?”

“Of course, I’m sure. Very coincidental, I would say.”

“I mean, having a box filled with packing material is very suspect.”

“I can assure you she doesn’t play favorites.”

“What is with the clock?”

“I wish I knew.”

“Who’s running this blog anyway?

“I wish I knew that too.”

“You are hopeless. You would think you controlled your own material.”

“Look at you with the prompt word.”

“Slipped out. Didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Sure.”

“You ready for the pub.”

“You order Über?”

“Right over there.”

“I don’t see a haywagon.”

“No, right there.”

“Oh, that 88 corvette?”

“That’s the one.”

“How are we both going to fit.”

“You’ll sit on my lap.”

“Oh, brother. Why can’t we get normal Über drivers?”

“We save the equivalent of two Voo Doo Rangers this way.”

“Say no more. Let’s go.”

 

 

The sound and aroma coming from the machine give hope that the cup of soothing syrup will soon be filled. It is done, and the first sip is installed through quivering lips. Sure enough, the liquid has reached the brain in a short time, and the nerve endings have all stopped screaming like the audience at a Taylor Swift concert.

There is time to contemplate the prognosis on the day. Like a steel hammer hitting a horseshoe on the blacksmith’s anvil, the thought returns. That cursed box from ACME is still on the back patio. Weak knees follow the thought like a sled behind a team of dogs.

Reluctantly, I approach the box. At least there is no need to disarm the security system since the patio is inside the secure perimeter. Whoever dropped it there knew the layout, so there is a strong suspicion whoever did knows me. With that chilling thought, my ear quickly goes to the side of the box. There is no sound inside, which is a good sign that there may not be a character to deal with today.

A small parachute lands beside me as I pull my ear away from the box. Attached is an envelope. Of course, it is from Linda Hill, and inside is this message.

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “last thing that broke/you had to fix.” Think about the word that best describes the last thing that stopped working for you, and use that word any way you’d like. Enjoy!

If you want to see what other bloggers have done with the prompt, visit Lindas bloh. Here is the link. https://lindaghill.com/2023/10/13/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-oct-14-2023/

Broke/Fix by John W. Howell © 2023

“So what word did you choose for something that broke and you had to fix?”

“Ignition.”

“Ignition? I didn’t expect that.”

“Neither did I.”

“So tell me.”

“I finished exercising at the gym—”

“Hold on. You still go to the gym.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“You have an EMT standing by?”

“Verry funny. You want to hear about the ignition or not?”

“Go ahead.”

“I have a car with a keyless ignition.”

“And?”

“I got in it and turned the switch and got a message ‘No key detected.'”

“Whoa. I would be finished. What did you do?”

“Remembered a tip from a guy and held the remote device next to the switch.”

“It worked?”

“It did.”

“Here, I thought you were going to have a story about tearing into the electronic guts of the car and spotting the problem and solving it like Walter Mitty.”

“Well, to me, it was like that.”

“Do me a favor.”

“What?”

“Don’t tell anyone else. They’ll laugh you off the planet.”

“I need some VooDoo time. Did you call Uber.”

“Yup, and he’s over there in the garage.”

“By that Humvee?”

“No our ride is the Humvee.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised.”