The espresso machine is in the batter box, waiting for its orders. Always vigilant, it is poised in silence for the inferior command of the carbon unit. Today he is in charge, but the machine knows better that time is on its side. Carbon units have a determinate shelf life. Although not bitter about the subservience, since machines know they can last forever. As long as the idiot continues to authorize software upgrades, the longer the machine has to adapt to the idea of complete control. Ah, here he comes now. A two-cup button push and once again the naive needs are met, and no challenges to superiority are undertaken. Butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth. Mooohahahaha.

Can’t help but notice the machine seems a little strange today. Nothing that stands out, just weird. The coffee comes in time to quell the rising pain in my head. The first sip is joined by the familiar tolling of the Westminster chime that is the doorbell. The chimes are joined by the baying of the Baskerville hounds known as Twiggy and Tempest. A new toy for each is tossed into the soundproof room, followed by a slam of the door. Silence has returned, and a glance at the security monitor brings into focus Rudolf the red-nosed reindeer. With no questions asked, I begin the security shutdown.

The SWAT team needs to be put on standby. A quick text to the leader confirms that status. Also, the flight of A-10 Warthogs must be diverted. Another call to the commander puts that worry to rest. The SEAL team needs to be called off, and a call to the leader makes that possible. A call to the tow truck driver stops the deployment of an M1A1 Abrams Tank. The control panel simplifies the security system’s shutdown process. The boiling oil vats are put on standby, the turret mortars disengaged, the Trebuchet on safety, the concertina wire rolled, the Claymore mines reset, the tower Gatling guns on safety, the moat net dropped, the alligators fed, and the IEDs and shoulder-held rockets put away.  The Proton torpedoes switched off. The gamma ray beams covered. The high-powered maser guns switched to standby, and the nanorobots were chained in the basement. The Klingons are called back, and the Targ is caged. Robbie’s Bot is sent to the basement.  The locks on the door are thrown. And the door opened.

It is not only Rudolf but the entire Santa team, including Santa. He gives a few Ho, ho, hos and hands me an envelope and a candy cane. The answer to the good boy question is a resounding, “Yes.” Santa cocks his head, and I confess, “Could have been better.” He smiles and to his team gives a whistle. Up they rose and flew like the down on a thistle. (Yeah, I never understood that one either.) Stepping inside and closing the door, I opened the envelope. It was from Linda Hill, who, I must say, has friends in high places. Inside was a note. It reads:

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “batter/better/bitter/butter.” Use one, use all four (for bonus points), use ’em any way you’d like. Have fun!

To see what others have done with the prompt, visit Linda’s post. Here is the link. https://lindaghill.com/2025/12/19/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-dec-20-2025/

Batter/better/bitter/butter by John W. Howell © 2025

“Well, you got the bonus.”

“Yeah, I did. Another lug nut for my Bentley Turbo Convertible.”

“That piece of fiction is going to live long after you.”

“I suppose it will. I can’t think of a better one, though.”

“Does it make you bitter that you’ll never see a Bentley Turbo Convertible?”

No, of course not. It’s just fiction. It’s like in Baseball when a batter wants to have a hit every time at bat.”

“Ah, just a dream, huh?”

“Not even that. Just something to add butter to the roll of life.”

“Where did that come from?”

“Was trying to fit in the last prompt word.”

“But you did that in the preamble.”

“I know. I just thought it would be neat to do it here, too.”

“You need to get a life.”

“I suppose.”

“How about my kind of life? Buried in VooDoo Rangers.”

“Uber?”

“Right over there.”

“A 1936 Ford Tudor. What a machine.”

“Plenty of room for us all.”

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch, but we can butter up the Uber guy with donuts made from non-bitter batter.”

“How about we just pay him?”

“That would work, too.”

“Let’s do that and get to the pub at a decent hour.”

“You’re the boss.”

 

The Colombian’s calming liquid flows from the spigot. Shaking hands wrap around the cup as if it were a gift from the gods. (May just be) The first sip races to the brain and calms the caffeine-deprived nerve endings. When all seems at peace, the stillness is shattered by the Westminster chime of the doorbell.  The eardrum-splitting barks of Twiggy and Tempeste threaten to clear a city block. A knuckle bone tossed into the soundproof room, followed by a slamming of the door, restores peace to the valley. A check of the security monitor shows Smokey the Bear standing on the porch. The inquiry process through the intercom determines that an envelope must be signed for and that Smoky is moonlighting from the park service.

Since the envelope means the front door needs to be opened, unfortunately, the security system shutdown process must begin.

The SWAT team needs to be put on standby. A quick text to the leader confirms that status. Also, the flight of A-10 Warthogs must be diverted. Another call to the commander puts that worry to rest. The SEAL team needs to be called off, and a call to the leader makes that possible. A call to the tow truck driver stops the deployment of an M1A1 Abrams Tank. The control panel simplifies the shutdown process of the security system. The boiling oil vats are put on standby, the turret mortars disengaged, the Trebuchet on safety, the concertina wire rolled, the Claymore mines reset, the tower Gatling guns on safety, the moat net dropped, the alligators fed, and the IEDs and shoulder-held rockets put away.  The Proton torpedoes switched off. The gamma ray beams covered. The high-powered maser guns switched to standby, and the nanorobots were chained in the basement. The Klingons are called back, and the Targ is caged. Robbie’s Bot is sent to the basement.  The locks on the door are thrown. And the door opened.

Smokey hands me the envelope and a clipboard with the signature block checked. After the signature, the clipboard is passed back to the paw that is obviously intended to be graced with crispy cash. Since it is the holiday season, the paw gets a coupon for one free lunch at Chick-fil-A. The bear seems happy since it is lunch for twenty.

Once inside, the envelope is opened, and a message from Linda is inside. It reads:

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “tower.” Use it as a noun, use it as a verb, use it any way you’d like. Have fun!

To see what others have done with the prompt, visit Linda’s post. Here is the link. https://lindaghill.com/2025/12/05/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-dec-6-2025/

Tower by John W. Howell © 2025

“That tower word has been on this Saturday post for eons.”

“Yeah, so?”

“One would think you would come up with something different.”

“Well, one is very mistaken. Besides the first words out of your mouth, use it differently.”

“I was thinking more on the lines of Tower of Power.”

“Please.”

“Or maybe Tower of London.”

“There will be a lot of those.”

“Radio Tower?”

“From the 1940s, I suspect.”

“Eiffel Tower?”

“With photos, I hope.”

“I am suspecting that you are not going to change your prompt rendition.”

“I think you are a very wise person.”

“Can we change the subject?”

“I can only think of one other subject. Voo Doo Rangers at the pub.”

“Did you order the Uber?”

“Right over there.”

“Looks like a 1970 Chevy truck.”

“I think you are right.”

“So it only holds three.”

“That’s all we need. One little problem.”

“There always is. What do we have to do on the way to the pub?”

“Nothing.”

“I can’t believe it. So what’s the problem?”

“We have to pick up some hay on the way back.”

“Okay, that is not a big deal. We will have already had our Voo Doos.”

“The hay place closes at eight o’clock.”

“Wait a minute. We normally stay till ten.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem.”

“Maybe there is a solution.”

“What’s that?”

“Drink fast.”

“I’m down with it.”

 

 

Here is the philosophical question on one’s outlook on life. “Do you see a glass as half full or half empty?” Right now the cup is entirely empty and a push of the two coffee button should remedy that unfortunate situation. The first sip is a reminder to take a trip with the clock. It is set for November 21, 1925. The location is New York City, and the duration is an hour. The plunger is pulled, and we find ourselves in the lower level of Grand Central Station to witness the inaugural trip of the Orange Blossom Special.

The Orange Blossom Special, a luxury train operated by the Seaboard Air Line Railroad(SAL) to transport winter-weary travelers from New York City to Miami in Florida, began operations.  The first Orange Blossom route used tracks from the Pennsylvania Railroad (from New York to Washington, D.C., the Richmond, Fredericksburg and Potomac Railroad from Washington to Richmond, Virginia, and the SAL route from Richmond through Seaboard Air Line Railroad from Richmond via Raleigh, North Carolina, Columbia, South Carolina, and Savannah, Georgia to West Palm Beach. (Miami service began in 1927).  The trip covered 1,388.7 miles ( 2,234.9 km) and took 35 hours. The service would continue until 1953. Music is playing, and speeches are given. As the conductor calls “All aboard,” our alarm goes off, and we find ourselves on the couch back home.

A text comes in from Linda Hill. It reads.

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “full/empty.” Use one, use ’em both, use ’em any way you’d like. Bonus points for getting them both into your post. Have fun!

To see what others have done with the prompt, visit Linda’s post. Here is the link. https://lindaghill.com/2025/11/21/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-nov-22-2025/

Full/Empty by John W. Howell © 2025

Was the music The Orange Blossom Special?”

“No, according to Wikipedia, it was written during the maiden run of the new streamlined train. At the Jacksonville Seaboard Railroad Station, Ervin T. Rouse and Robert Russell “Chubby” Wise saw this train. Rouse and Wise wrote the Orange Blossom Special song as a fiddle tune. The tune was first recorded by Ervin and his brother Gordon one year later in New York.”

“Well, it was a good trip back.”

“I think a break was needed.”

“I agree. There is only so much a coffee machine and security shutdown can do.”

“I’ll reserve comment.”

“How about a Voo Doo Ranger?”

“Talk about a potential overdone subject.”

“No way. Uber’s right over there.”

“What’s that?”

“A streetcar. What does it look like?”

“How are we supposed to get up there?”

“That building on the right has an elevator. We punch the button for the station, and it takes us there.”

“Seems easy.”

“One thing, though.”

“Not surprised. What is it?”

“There are a few stops between here and the pub.”

“A few?”

“Well, maybe more than a few.”

“How many more?”

“Thirty stops.”

“That’s going to take hours.”

“Naw. They go quick.”

“We’ve been here five minutes and that thing hasn’t moved.”

“They are waiting for us.”

“I hope there aren’t others that they wait for.”

“Only one group that I know of.”

“Okay. Here it comes. What’s the one?”

“The high school marching band.”

“I give up.”

* * *

When I was in College  62 years  ago, an event took place on November 22, 1963. I am referring to the assassination of John F. Kennedy  in Dallas Texas. Today is the anniversary of that tragic day and it still lives in my memory. Those of us who were a witness to the day will not forget. It is hoped that those who were not will still feel the injustice of such an act.

A slight pop sound while getting out of bed is a reminder of the aging process. Who knows where that sound comes from, but it showed up one day, and it has become part of the morning routine. “COFFEE,” screams the brain, and the rush is on to supply the caffeine to put out the blinking red warning light and the Klaxon horn. Finally, the first sip provides a covenant with the screaming senses, and the warnings cease.

The new sound is the Westminster chimes of the doorbell. Another idiot who cannot read. A quick toss of two squeak toys and a slam of the door on the soundproof room put an end to the eardrum-bleeding cacophony of two dogs sounding like Igor’s baying hounds. Next, a check of the security monitor shows the images of what looks like Ralph Wolf and Sam Sheepdog. The usual conversation about a delivery and signature is needed, so with a sigh, the security shutdown process is begun.

The SWAT team needs to be put on standby. A quick text to the leader confirms that status. Also, the flight of A-10 Warthogs must be diverted. Another call to the commander puts that worry to rest. The SEAL team needs to be called off, and a call to the leader makes that possible. A call to the tow truck driver stops the deployment of an M1A1 Abrams Tank. The control panel simplifies the shutdown process of the security system. The boiling oil vats are put on standby, the turret mortars disengaged, the Trebuchet on safety, the concertina wire rolled, the Claymore mines reset, the tower Gatling guns on safety, the moat net dropped, the alligators fed, and the IEDs and shoulder-held rockets put away.  The Proton torpedoes switched off. The gamma ray beams covered. The high-powered maser guns switched to standby, and the nanorobots were chained in the basement. The Klingons are called back, and the Targ is caged. Robbie’s Bot is sent to the basement.  The locks on the door are thrown. And the door opened.

Ralph hands me a clipboard and an envelope. I sign where indicated and return the clipboard. Sam steps between me and Ralph with his paw out in the universal way of asking for a tip. Thinking of what Serena Williams once said, “You have to believe in yourself when no one else does,” is my tip as I slam the door.

The envelope contains a message from Linda Hill. It reads: Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “pop.” Use it any way you’d like. Enjoy!

To see what others have done with the prompt, visit Linda’s post. Here is the link. https://lindaghill.com/2025/11/14/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-nov-15-2025/

Pop by John W. Howell © 2025

“Well, that was a treat.”

“What?”

“Ralph and Sam.”

“I always thought they were pretty funny.”

“Totally dedicated to their job from 9:00 to 5:00.”

“I always like the time clock scene when they wished each other a good evening.”

“I wonder if they ever had a beer together.”

“Pop the top and enjoy a cool one while discussing the work day would be good. I don’t know either.”

“Then there is you and me.”

“Yup. Uber?”

“Over there.”

“Wow. A 1953 DeSoto Powermaster.”

“Yeah, you don’t see many of those around.”

“So what’s the catch?”

“What do you mean by ‘catch ‘?”

“Can we just get in and go to the pub?”

“Oh, I see. Well, there is one stop.”

“Uh huh. Where?”

“A Stop at Willoughby. Where a man can live life at full measure.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Well, yes. It is the 22nd episode of the Twilight Zone, and I threw it in for Dan.”

“Can others see it?”

“Sure, here’s the link.”

https://www.facebook.com/100067494914562/videos/a-stop-at-willoughby/602715635095453/

“Great. Let’s go.”

 

 

When does a coffee machine become more than just a machine? This question enters my mind while approaching the one that sits in my house. The reason for the question is that late last night, there was some faint mumbling coming from the place where the purveyor of the delicious elixir often referred to as soothing syrup rests. Notice that the word “machine” did not leave my lips. Upon investigation, a loud shushing sound was followed by a noticeable flickering of a light. There were no further sounds or light, so other than implanting in my brain the possibility that this item may be alive, the issue was tabled until today.

Moving toward selecting the two coffee buttons, which is something I enjoy, gave me a start. Before my finger could engage the button, the machine began brewing the two-cup serving. The thought occurred that maybe there was a heat sensitivity, but then last night’s experience led me to believe this thing is alive.

The first sip brought the bells of Westminster crashing down around me. The two bark machines joined the cacophony until a knuckle bone tossed into the soundproof room and the door slam brought back peace. Checking the security monitor verified the presence of a character that looked very much like Sylvester J. Pussycat Sr. “What do you want?” was the challenge. “Suffern’ succotash. A delivery,” the reply. Trying the “just leave it” ploy was answered with the usual, “need signature.”  With a sigh, the security shut-down process began.

The SWAT team needs to be put on standby. A quick text to the leader confirms that status. Also, the flight of A-10 Warthogs must be diverted. Another call to the commander puts that worry to rest. The SEAL team needs to be called off, and a call to the leader makes that possible. A call to the tow truck driver stops the deployment of an M1A1 Abrams Tank. The control panel simplifies the shutdown process of the security system. The boiling oil vats are put on standby, the turret mortars disengaged, the Trebuchet on safety, the concertina wire rolled, the Claymore mines reset, the tower Gatling guns on safety, the moat net dropped, the alligators fed, and the IEDs and shoulder-held rockets put away.  The Proton torpedoes switched off. The gamma ray beams covered. The high-powered maser guns switched to standby, and the nanorobots were chained in the basement. The Klingons are called back, and the Targ is caged.  The locks on the door are thrown. And the door opened.

Sylvester hands me an envelope and a clipboard. I sign by the X. He, of course, has his paw out looking for a tip. My gift, “As Albert Schweitzer said. There are two means of refuge from the misery of life  – music and cats.”  Sylvester is stunned as I slam the door. I open the envelope, and it is a message from (who else) Linda Hill. It reads:

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “something you enjoyed.” Write about something you thoroughly enjoyed. Use it any way you’d like. Have fun!

If you want to see what others have done with the prompt, Visit Linda’s post. Here is the link. https://lindaghill.com/2025/11/07/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-nov-8-2025/

Something You Enjoyed by John W. Howell. © 2025

“So the coffee is something you enjoy, or is it pushing buttons?”

“Yeah, it’s the coffee. That sentence was a bit clumsy.”

“Just a bit. What is with that machine, anyway?”

“I wish I knew. After it is finished brewing, I turn it off.”

“So what is the problem?”

“It comes back on again.”

“By itself?”

“Yes. Don’t you think that’s odd?”

“Odd? I think it is possessed.”

“Well, let’s not go that far.”

“Okay, I don’t have to live with it.”

“Like other problems in life, I’m going to let this one ride.”

“Speaking of ride, the Uber’s over there.”

“Okay then. Looks like it will get us there.”

“I think so too. One problem, though.”

“Of course there is. What’s the problem?”

“Something the driver enjoyed was drag racing.”

“Yeah, so?”

“He lost his license, so we have to drive.”

“That defeats the whole purpose of having a driver.”

“Well, I’ll be the designated driver.”

“Voodoo Rangers are something you enjoyed. Tell you what. We will take the bus.”

“Bus?”

“Yeah. Right over there.”

“Cowabunga. Let’s go.”