Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Are You Thankful Yet?

What are you thankful for?
Would you be thankful if you could walk to an open market and afford one of these family meals?

If you had the money, the deluxe Thanksgiving meal is offered with or without the gizzard, heart, and liver. The basic meal is two chicken legs, two wings, and two pairs of scrubbed white chicken feet.

Or, if such a treat is beyond your budget, you can bargain for a live rat recently trapped in the muck of the receding Amazon.

With your holiday meal in the bag you can trek back to your hovel on stilts. These living quarters give homes to tens-of thousands.

The reason for the elevated structures is to allow for rising waters when once more the rainy season begins.

Would you be thankful to have a home? A home where oozing waste from the city on higher ground meanders among the neighborhood.

Are you thankful for a safe and cozy home with indoor toilets and a tub filled with soothing warm water to soak in? If you are, turn your heart toward this young girl who is happy simply because she has never experienced any of the comforts and material gratifications we have.

"Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the earth."


Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Just Saggin

Franz's Symbol of Wisdom
He goes by the name of “Slam," a wide shouldered fellow, accustomed of getting his way. In high school he proved his manhood on the wrestling mat. From his neck down a tattoo of an eagle sprawls across his back. The bird appears alive when flexing muscles dominate his opponents. The girls swooned.

After high school, Slam, happy with his status in life, doesn’t find the need of a marketable skill important. His high school fame however, gradually diminishes. The challenge shifts to be cool in his neighborhood. Cool now is the very object of his existence. A black spider tattooed on his neck, reaching for Slam's adorned left ear, is cool. A pierced tongue sporting a silver stud is cool. His shirt, silver and black satin, open to his belt line, showing off his glistening oiled chest, is cool. A gold plated chain with a large, black iron cross makes him a dominating, hard cool. 

Slam does not sit at home, but saunters down toward the main drag where he is apt to get the recognition he desires. Earplugs supply rap music adding an imperceptive beat to accompany his slow walk. With every other beat his left foot sags to the sidewalk ever so slightly, while his right shoulder compliments the bop. The dude has swag!

Slam hits the big time, the main drag. The sidewalk widens. Friends in cars, sub-woofers blaring, slow down to make eye contact with one of their kind. Slam the man holds his baggy, sagging jeans with his left hand while the other hand gives an approving signal; finger pointing forward. His stroll has now slowed to the rhythm of every fourth beat. 

Hanging suspenders decorate his hips having been demoted from doing their job. All is cool. Across his lower back his underwear begins to seek freedom. The skivvies pop in the sun like a liberated grader belt. A dog bone print on the fabric becomes obvious. The bones alluding to his masculine prowess.

Pooled at the bottom, his britches drag the ground as frayed strands of strings follow like dried worms. Slam is careful not to obscure his highly prized, over-sized sneakers. He also makes sure the touted brand is visible on the side of his brogans, the status symbol of his overall flare. The loose laces are opposite of black. Laced only through four loops, and gathered in the front. They add to being cool and casually drag the sidewalk, giving an air to the in thing.

Slam hears a long blast from a car horn. He partially turns to acknowledge the supposed recognition by a compadre. Instead he sees a long-legged shepherd pup weaving his way through traffic. The hound finds the neighborhood dude irresistible. He sniffs and playfully jumps on Slam. Slam now, being upstaged by this goofy four-legged pain, smacks at the dog. Not deterred, the playful pup nips at the sagging britches and finds the unravelling result exciting. The dog grabs the suspenders and pulls hard to detach them. At this point Slam is urged to forego the rhythm of his earplugs and begins to free himself from the new attraction on the main drag.

To ward off the playful critter, Slam forgets his styling and realizes his underwear is now in full bloom. When he attempts to make a run for it, he steps on his loose laces causing the shoe to come off. With his pants around his ankles, he loses balance and stumbles to the sidewalk. Frantically he reaches for his prized shoe before the hound finds the smell irresistible. 

The dog however, lets go of the stretched suspenders smacking poor Mr. Cool in the butt.
Slam raises his voice and whops the dog with his sneaker. The lively pup still thinks this is a great game and is convinced the cute bones on the skivvies are for him. Mine, mine! Yum, yum, exclaims the dog as he yanks the underwear into shreds and exposes Mr. Cool’s muscular, untanned full moon. 

Bent over, trying to pull up some cover, Slam notices a school bus stopped at the light. The bright yellow rig, full of the neighborhood’s kids, is not in the hurry. It hangs a while at the light as all its passengers crowd to the windows. Across the street, two people are raising their cell phones to capture the excitement to be shared with the local evening's newscast.