Today, I opened Circumstances of Childhood randomly to page 115. Without looking, I pointed at the page, and my finger fell closest to the word “position.”
The coffee machine has the day off. Here’s what happened. Daughter went to Costa Rica and brought back some coffee. The coffee was already ground, so using the machine to brew a cup was not impossible, but it was close to it. A French Press was conscripted into action. Boiling water, tablespoons of coffee, and a four-minute wait was almost like camping out.
Finally, the cup is ready. The coffee is remarkably smooth compared to Columbian. It has a floral finish, which could be offsetting if one is unfamiliar with that element. The primary benefit of caffeine delivery is accomplished, so in the end, it is a success.
Just at the finish of the cup, the Westminister chime doorbell causes Twiggy and Tempeste to take up the protective high-octave warning system that can cause the ears to bleed. Wondering why people can’t pay attention to the “PLEASE DO NOT RING THE DOORBELL” sign is beyond me. The shutdown of the security system begins.
The turret machine guns are set to stand by, the boiling oil cauldron tipping mechanism is turned off, and the automated arrow launching pods are unarmed. In addition, the Trebuchet, ballista, and falling rock device are switched to manual. The claymore mines are set to manual, the mote net rolled back, and the concertina wire retracted. The Iron gate is raised, and the bolts are thrown on the front door.
Standing there is a guy with a mug that looks like Al Capone. He has a letter and says it needs to be signed for receipt. He also has a clipboard and tells me to sign on line four. I do that, and he hands me the letter. “Don’t leave town,” he says. Before my response, he turns and walks away.
I open the letter, which is from Linda Hill. Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “mug.” Use it any way you’d like. Have fun!
One knows when the machine is going to function correctly. There are no knocks or pings, and the aroma begins immediately. This knowledge comes from years of experience relying on machines for life-affirming elixir. Today is good in that the liquid pours from the twin spouts like it is happy to see me.
One sip and my mind turns to the clock. It is set for Saturday, October 18, 1924, and the location is the Polo Grounds in New York. The duration is an hour, and when the plunger is pulled, we find ourselves in the stands surrounded by screaming fans.
In one of the most anticipated games of the 1924 college football season, played before 60,000 at the Polo Grounds stadium in New York City, Notre Dame defeated Army, 13 to 7. Nationally syndicated sportswriter Grantland Rice wrote his famous “Four Horsemen” column published in the next day’s newspapers.
The article included the famous lines.”Outlined against a blue-gray October sky,” Rice wrote, “the Four Horsemen rode again. In dramatic lore, they are known as famine, pestilence, destruction, and death. These are only aliases. Their real names are Stuhldreher, Miller, Crowley, and Layden.”
Just as it was time to run on the field, the alarm goes off and we are back on the couch. A text from Linda Hill has this week’s prompt. It reads:
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “starts with ‘kn.’” Find a word that starts with the letters “kn” and use it any way you’d like. Enjoy!
“Is it a contemplation, or are you not feeling well?”
“A little of both, I suppose.”
“Aw. What is bothering you?”
“I think I overate at lunch.”
“I thought you seemed overly hungry.”
“I don’t think it was that.”
“What was it then?”
“I have been wondering why we were put on the Earth. I think the contemplation of that question just got me to a point where I binge ate.”
“Well, I have certainly had that feeling myself.”
“You have?”
“Yes. A while back, I was also wondering what is the ultimate meaning of life?”
“Oh wow. Then I’m not weird.”
“Not at all. I think most thinking beings ask themselves that very thing. Especially in our case, given the way we live.”
“By the way we live, what do you mean?”
“We have to rely on some unfortunate circumstance to happen in order to get a meal.”
“What do you mean by unfortunate?”
“Like today. We would never have had such a beautiful lunch had that raccoon not run under that car.”
“Oh, I get it. We need road kill to survive.”
“Exactly.”
“But I never thought such a thing was unfortunate.”
“No. Then ask our lunch host the next time.”
“Oh, my goodness. I never thought of them. Is there a way to change how we find food?”
“Like become vegans? Don’t make me laugh. We are vultures, and we are destined to eat what has gone before us.”
“So contemplation about such things is not very healthy.”
“Just think of this. If we weren’t here, who would clean up the mess left by a dead animal? Certainly not humans. They can’t seem to pick up a beer can, let alone a skunk.”
“So we have purpose.”
“You bet. And some pretty fine eats.”
“Thanks, you’ve helped me.”
“Good. Feel better?”
“Yeah. Let’s catch a thermal and find another meal.”
A note on the coffee machine held in place by a clip made a heart-stopping announcement: THE MACHINE IS OUT OF ORDER. This is the message from hell. There is no signature and, therefore, no avenue of appeal. How can the machine be out of order? What manner of trickery is this? Who is responsible? All are good questions, followed by the sound of crickets.
There is only one thing left to do before my carbon unit goes into shutdown mode.
A trip to the coffee store is now a matter of life and death. There can be no delay since neurons in my brain are beginning to misfire. One fist won’t open so it is clear before any more symptoms develop, survival demands a shutdown of the security system and quick exit.
The turret machine guns are set to stand by, the boiling oil cauldron tipping mechanism is turned off, and the automated arrow launching pods are unarmed. In addition, the Trebuchet, ballista, and falling rock device are switched to manual. The claymore mines are set to manual, the mote net rolled back, and the concertina wire retracted. The Iron gate is raised, and the bolts are thrown on the front door.
There is a guy standing on the porch with a large carryout container of Dunkin Donuts coffee. “Is that world-famous author J.W. Howell?”
“Uh, I’m J. W. Howell”
“Good. Here’s your coffee.”
I take it in my only functioning hand and thank the man. He nods and then leaves. Not looking a gift horse in the mouth, a big sip of the magical liquid brings me back to life. Just as my memory returns, I feel the buzz of an incoming text. It is from Linda Hill and reads: Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “clip.” Use it as a noun or a verb, use it any way you’d like. Have fun!
“Did you ever find out what was wrong with the machine?”
“No. I did a self-repair and was good as new by the afternoon.”
“Who put the clip with the note?”
“I have no idea.”
“Who called for the delivery?”
“I know this will sound strange, but I think the machine did.”
“Oh, come on. Machines can’t do that.”
“This one almost seems alive. I haven’t told anyone this, but I lock the kitchen door when I go to bed.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No. I know it sounds nuts, but that thing gives me the willies.”
“Why not get a different one?”
“Cause it makes the best coffee.”
“Yeah, that reminds me of the old joke about the five-dollar-a-day workhand.”
“Haven’t heard it.”
“This farmer has a five dollar-a-day work and who burned all his crops and set fire to the barn and house. When asked if he fired the guy, he said. ‘No.'”
“No? why not?”
“His answer was, ‘Where am I going to get a five-dollar-a-day workhand to replace him.'”
“Good one, Henny Youngman. Order an Uber.”
“Right over there. You have a choice today.”
Photo by Dan Antion
A new FJ40 Toyota Land Cruiser or..”
“Your old 1978 FJ40 Land Cruiser
“Wow, that is a tough choice. In fact, my old FJ brings a tear to the eye.”
“Don’t get carried away. Just choose.”
“I’m choosing the old one.”
“Good. Let’s go. Remember that the old one has a top-end clip of 60 miles an hour, so it will take a little time.”
Today, I randomly opened Circumstances of Childhood to page 177 and pointed to the page with my eyes closed. Under my finger is the word ‘recognized.’ Our prompt.
Waiting on the nectar that sustains all life. I’m not sure why it is taking so long, but to investigate, a fork is put into play to remove the inspection hatch plate. All seems normal until it appears the start button has not been pushed. This demonstrates the need for the glorious liquid before doing anything important.
Once started, the coffee is delivered post haste. The first sip suggests that a little time travel might be welcome this morning. The clock is set for October 4th, 1924. The location is Washington, D.C., and the duration is an hour. The plunger pulled finds us in President’s Park, south of State Place Northwest, between 17th Street Northwest and West Executive Avenue Northwest.
Monument in 2008
We are here at the dedication of the First Division Monument. The Monument commemorates those who died while serving in the 1st Infantry Division of the U.S. Army during World War I and subsequent wars. We arrive in time to hear Calvin Coolidge’s comments, which include dedication and speaking out against the Geneva Protocol, which would mandate all countries to seek arbitration of disputes in a world court.
The Monument inscribes 5,516 names of fallen heroes from WWI and over 7,000 additional names from subsequent wars. As Calvin wraps up his comments, our alarm goes off, and we land softly on the sofa. A text from Linda Hill comes in and reads:
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “fork.” Use it any way you’d like. Enjoy!
“Yeah, I agree. That Geneva Protocol sounded like a good idea.”
“It did require countries to give up their ability to formulate their own response to aggression by another. It also allowed countries not signing up to do as they please. Long story short, no one was buying the concept.”
“I noticed you did October 4th when this is the 5th.”
“October 4th in 1924 was a Saturday, so I thought I would keep it the same day.”
“You really plan this stuff out well.”
“Sometimes, I reach a fork in the road. To the right is too much information. To the left, not enough. I have to choose the best course.”
“Yeah, I think the best course is the cocktail hour. Even beats the appetizer.”
I randomly opened the book His Revenge to page 109. Without looking, I pointed to the page, and the closest word to my finger was a tie between hot and water, so I used both.
The desire for something different led to punching the Latte button instead of plain coffee. Had to stand back as the machine did its work. Much hissing and bubbling produced a tall glass of delightful milk foam and a layer of golden nectar. Someone called out my name, so I knew it was ready. While taking a big sip and noting the foam mustache, the Westminster chimes of the doorbell caused an instant eruption.
Twiggy and Tempeste were all about barking the intruder to St. Louis. Getting them settled was not easy. The question of what idiot would ring a doorbell when there is a sign to not do that is still unanswered.
Moving to the security system, the shutdown process begins.
The turret machine guns are set to stand by, the boiling oil cauldron tipping mechanism is turned off, and the automated arrow launching pods are unarmed. In addition, the Trebuchet, ballista, and falling rock device are switched to manual. The claymore mines are set to manual, the mote net rolled back, and the concertina wire retracted. The Iron gate is raised, and the bolts are thrown on the front door.
Standing there is a character who looks very much like Elmer Fudd. I ask what he wants, and he responds, “Have you seen a wabbit around here?”
“No, I have not seen a Wabbit.”
“If you do can you give me a call?”
“Might I ask what business you have with the Wabbit?”
“I want to shoot him. Here’s my card.”
“Okay Thanks. I’ll call if I see him.”
The guy turns around and heads off the porch. My mental note reads “No way Jose.” After dumping the card and touching the security activate switch the text tone causes me to check my phone. The text reads Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “i before e.” Find a word that has an “i” before an “e” even if there’s a letter between them, and use it for your prompt word. Have fun!
