Posts Tagged ‘humor’

Blonde with Fingers: A New Free Kindle Book

January 20, 2019

Blonde with Fingers: Poems of Love and Joy with Art Photography of Original Necklaces is now available on Kindle. This new book presents sixteen short poems. They make me happy and I hope you will enjoy them.

The text is supported by art photographs of necklaces I made. These photographs present the necklaces as still lifes rather than as fashion accessories.

Like the other books I have published on Kindle, this new book is listed at the minimum price of 99¢.

If anyone is interested, Blonde with Fingers and my six previous books are all available free, Sunday & Monday, January 20 & 21.

You do not need a Kindle device. The book can be read on a PC, Mac or phone. This book can be reached by clicking on the image below or with my earlier books on

my Author Page: http://amazon.com/author/mikesmetzer

 

Blonde with Fingers cover - Mike Smetzer

Mikey Works at the Grocery

July 22, 2018

 

My little book of daft humor Mikey Works at the Grocery was published last week. It is now available for free on Kindle for three days, July 22 to 24. You do not need a Kindle machine. You can view it on PC, Mac, or phone. Many of the photographs are by Vera Lisa Smetzer.

Link to Book

 

A 5¢ pay raise! Photo by Vera Lisa Smetzer.

A 5¢ pay raise! Photo by Vera Lisa Smetzer.

 

An Unsettling Day at the Store

I was making jokes like usual, but no one was smiling. Like when you are reminiscing to you wife about some really fun thing the two of you did years ago. But she gets quiet and seems to be listening too closely. And you think, oh wait, who was I with?

 

I told my manager I was getting a colonoscopy. Photo by Vera Lisa Smetzer.

I told my manager I was getting a colonoscopy. Photo by Vera Lisa Smetzer.

 

Slime in the Parking Lot

During my first break yesterday I got a phone call from a front end supervisor. I heard her say, “Can you come to the front? There is slime flowing around in the parking lot.” Sounded urgent so I advised her to page my partner who was working in the backroom. “What the hell,” I thought. “Could be a septic pumper with a leaky valve!” I hurried down at the end of my break and asked if my partner was still outside. “Yes,” she replied with great seriousness. I went into the parking lot to help. Couldn’t find my partner. Couldn’t find any slime.

I went out back and found my partner at work. “What was in the parking lot?” I asked, excitedly.  He looked puzzled. “It was just one of the yellow floor cone signs we set out in the fire lane. Someone knocked it over. The front end called for me to “take care of the sign that was rolling around in the parking lot.”

I suppose I could get a hearing aid, but life would be less interesting.

 

Third Edition of Donald Trump, Bernie Sanders & George Armstrong Custer

July 14, 2018

The third edition of my book Donald Trump, Bernie Sanders & George Armstrong Custer is available for free on Kindle for three days, July 14 to 16. You do not need a Kindle machine. You can view it on PC, Mac, or phone. This new edition has a different set of 26 photos, all by Vera Lisa Smetzer.

If you got an earlier version, you may need to save it to a different account to avoid getting the new cover sent to you with the old content, even if you deleted the old.

Link to Book

 

The Angry Librarian: A Short Story Set in South Portland, Maine

June 22, 2018

 

The last few days have been wet here in southern Maine. So Monday afternoon I skipped my usual puttering in the garden after work. Instead I walked over to the town library between showers for a little reading before going on to our church in the shoe store. I needed to check some references for next Sunday’s sermon on the transformation of Saul into Paul the Apostle.

On the way I joined up with Bernie Bastardo. We both work at the supermarket. I clerk for center store and he humps trash to the back and cleans for maintenance. I’ve been full time there for ten years now, since I came east from Kansas. Bernie works part time, off and on, pretty much when they need someone in a hurry.

When I met him, Bernie was dripping wet.

“What happened, Bernie?”

“Hi, Bro. I had some wine to warm up and fell asleep on my bench by the duck pond. That last squall caught me napping. I’m heading to the library to dry out.”

“You know, Bernie, drying out might be a good idea. I’ve been meaning to tell you, the store needs help and they will take you back on maintenance for the summer.”

“I’m good for now, Mike.”

Our town has a newish library they built when the economy was good. That’s been a while. The library’s nice. It has a lot of windows to let in the sun. The inside is all one open space like the main hall of a church.

Once we got inside we saw Rufus and Chip at the computers. They also work at the store.

Chip clerks natural foods. He’s skinny and smooth talking, so the health-conscious ladies think he is healthy in mind and body. Actually he loves over-priced gourmet cheeseburgers and the women who serve them.

Rufus is a big good-natured guy. He stocks several stores for the beer distributor. Ours is usually his last stop. If a guy lends Rufus $100, he’ll get it back. If a gal makes a date with Rufus, he might go off drinking after work and forget to pick her up. The young ladies at the store don’t want their divorced moms dating Rufus, but when they are out for fun, they like to party with him.

They both show up sometimes at our ministry in the old shoe store downtown. We call it The Shoestring Chapel. It’s interdenominational, of course, and no one gets paid, but it has helped some of us change our lives. We put together a pretty spirited band with an old drum kit, two or three electric guitars and a whole lot of plastic recorders.

“Chip. Rufus. I knew you guys got off work, but I didn’t expect to see you at the library!”

“Brother Mike. We lost our smartphones. So we’re here to check FB before happy hour.”

“You both lost your phones?”

“Yeah, we were doing the bars Saturday night with two girls we met in the Old Port. Sunday morning we realized our phones were gone.”

A red-haired librarian in her thirties was hovering nearby watching us. I’ve talked to her a few times. Her name’s Katie. She’s Episcopalian.

The guys checked their messages and posts.

“Nothing from those girls,” said Chip, “and nothing about our phones.”

“Well, happy hour starts in thirty minutes,” said Rufus. “So at least we can relax and have some fun.”

“Yes,” I said, “or maybe, in view of what happened Saturday night, you might want to make a change and stop by the chapel for a while.”

Rufus put up his hands. “Whoa, Mike! It’s not like we passed out and the girls took our phones. We just lost them. And we did have a lot of fun!”

That was when the librarian came over. Katie is a well-built lady, but packaged not to show it.

“We are discussing the wisdom of drinking,” I told her.

“I think you gentlemen might be more comfortable in the group study area in back. This way, please.”

There is just one long table in that area and a dweeby guy was working on his laptop at one end.

“You can talk to each other in here, but, please, use your inside voices. This area has only a partial wall and we have other patrons.”

“Thank you,” I told her. “We appreciate your suggestion.”

Chip caught the librarian’s attention with a sweet smile. “I can’t help but notice,” he confided, “that sweater really goes well with your blue eyes.”

Katie squinted hard at Chip and left.

“Well, Brother Mike,” Rufus observed, “if we hadn’t gone drinking, I guess we’d still have our cells.”

“The Bible doesn’t say don’t drink, Rufus, but Proverbs does say, ‘Look not on the wine when it is red.’”

Rufus reflected. “Probably means drink white wine. You get less of a headache.”

“It could mean drink a white Zinfandel or a rosé,” suggested Chip. “If you remove the skins from red grapes, the wine doesn’t become red.”

I cleared my throat. “I think the wine they were supposed to drink wasn’t red because they added water. They needed some alcohol in their water to kill germs and stay healthy, but they didn’t need full-strength wine. They didn’t need to get drunk.”

Bernie had looked puzzled listening to Rufus and Chip. “Most of the wines I drink have grain alcohol added, which is clear, but they are still red.”

Chip smirked. “That red must be coloring, Bernie. I don’t think your wines ever saw a grape. Probably raw ethanol and water.”

“Maybe a little diesel for flavor” added Rufus.

The guys had a big laugh.

“Hey!” Bernie protested, “Wild Irish Rose is not that bad.”

The librarian’s face reappeared in the doorway, scowling. “I’m not sure this conversation about drinking is appropriate around young people. And a PUBLIC library is not an appropriate place to discuss religious morality. Or lack of it.  Please keep it down!”

“Sorry, Katie,” I said. She left abruptly.

Chip’s gaze followed her. “Not a bad looking woman. Love those flashing eyes. Wonder what her sign is.”

“Skull ‘n crossbones,” offered Rufus.

The guys all laughed.

“Hey, bros,” I said, “Katie’s just doing her job.

“Oh-oh,” said Rufus, “she’s back.”

“I told you to keep it down!  I’m sure you are bothering this gentleman on his laptop.”

“But,” said Rufus, “he’s only looking up Casual Encounters on Craig’s List.”

The dweeb looked up and smiled, “w4w.”

“We are considering how much Christians should drink,” I explained. “It’s a delicate question and people need to joke to relieve their tension.”

Katie was not appeased. “I’m afraid this study room is not an appropriate place for an AA meeting.”

“But, Sunshine,” Chip objected, “we’re not alcoholics!”

“At least not reformed alcoholics,” laughed Rufus.

Katie looked at me. “I guess you haven’t gotten them to take the first step, Brother Mike.”

“They aren’t actually alcoholics, Katie. And AA meets in the old church on the ridge. You know, the one that lost its bell tower and has the bell sitting on the grass.”

“Now wouldn’t that church be a lovely place for THIS meeting.”

“Oh,” I said.

NOW, please!” commanded the librarian.

Rufus laughed. “We’ll go quietly.”

“That would be the first quiet thing you have done.”

As Katie escorted us down the poorly lit stairs and out the door, we noticed that the last showers had stopped. The sky had lightened and there were blue patches among the clouds. Rufus and Chip took off for happy hour. 

Chip smiled back at me. “See you at the market, Brother Mike, but let’s not talk any more this week about whether Christians should drink.”

“Right men!” said Rufus. “Time for action.”

Bernie and I looked back and saw that Katie had withdrawn into the dark stairway.  You could still see her shadow watching. She looked delicate. Like a deer hiding.

Bernie smiled. “I bet Katie would like to go for a walk with us.”

“She can’t do that, Bernie. She has to stay at her job.”

“No, she doesn’t have to stay. And she doesn’t want to.”

“But she will stay, Bernie.”

“Yes, I guess you are right. But I’d hate to see her stay here for her whole life.”

“A librarian could be exactly what Katie wants to be. She could be happy among her books, and she may not want to change.”

Bernie shook his head. “She wants more from her life.”

We walked past Holy Cross, the tank farm, and the marina, all the way to the harbor lighthouses. We watched a tanker leave and an island ferry come in and dock across the river.

Bernie became reflective. “People need to feel free to live the life they want.”

I thought about my life. “When I lived out in Kansas, I had a different life. I was a night clerk at a Best Western and sat around all night alone.”

“So you quit!”

“Well, it wasn’t that abrupt. But you are right, Bernie. I had to find something I wanted to do. I had to find a way of life I wanted to live. My loneliness led me to change my life.”

I glanced over at Bernie. “Are you comfortable living the life you live?”

“Yes, for now.”

“And so, I think, are Chip and Rufus. But we can all create a new life for ourselves. Live and act like someone we’ve never been. Someone we didn’t know we could become.”

“I don’t want to lose who I am, Brother Mike. People think I’m just a bum, but I don’t want to lose the way I think and feel. I am who I am.”

“I think I am still who I was back in Kansas. If I had to become a night clerk again, I would be lonely again. But I’ve changed the habits of my life and how I interact with people, and now I am happier. My life feels different but I still feel like me inside.”

Several fishing boats were coming in for the day. Watching them took me back to the cattle I would watch moving leisurely along the fence lines in Kansas. There was something quiet and purposeful, something eternal about the boats and the cattle as they followed their familiar course into evening.

And I realized how the waves of water that had grown into swells reminded me of the waves of the land across the plains. I missed looking up at night into the bright, starry heavens from those dark, thinly populated plains. I loved the expansiveness of the hills in Kansas and of the ocean, and I loved that huge sky above them both.

“Hey, Mike! Look over by the lighthouse.” Bernie pointed toward the jetty going out to Spring Point Light. “That librarian must have gotten off work.”

I saw a slender, red-haired figure walking serenely across the granite slabs out among the waves.

 

Copyright © 2018 by Michael B. Smetzer

 

Maine Coast. Photo by Vera Lisa Smetzer.

Maine Coast. Photo by Vera Lisa Smetzer.

How Old Elbert Got Born

June 13, 2018

 

Old Elbert was born on his parents’ farm in a hilly part of Indiana called The Porter County Wilderness. The way it happened marked him for life.

Back when Elbert was born, the farms in The Wilderness didn’t have phone service. That meant Elbert’s dad had to go for the doctor in person. Carl’s Ford wouldn’t start so he drove a Waterloo Boy tractor with steel wheels through a snowstorm until he reached Lester Goode’s farmhouse. The Goodes lived on the edge of The Wilderness. And they had the last phone on the line from town.

Telephone poles hadn’t made it that far yet. The wire was just stapled to the trees. Sometimes the phone worked. As luck would have it, it didn’t matter. Doc Yeager was already there drinking George Dickel and playing Texas hold ’em with the township trustees.

The doctor was smiling over his winnings when he looked up and through the kitchen to see Carl coming in from the mudroom on the other side.

“Bullshit!” he said, “At least cows have a calving season.”

“You’re a doctor,” Lester Goode reminded him. “You gotta go.”

The doctor scowled and went to put on his great coat in the mudroom.

“If she’s dropping twins, Carl, it will be twice the price.”

One of the trustees smiled to the rest as Doc Yeager’s coat passed by outside the window. “Guess his luck ran out, boys, but, you know, I’m feeling that much luckier.”

The men went to the window and watched Doc Yeager drive off in his Studebaker, with Carl putt-putting behind through the snow.

They all sat back down and poured a round. “Your deal, Lester. Nice to have more room at the table.”

When Doc Yeager got to Carl’s farm, he pulled his bag out from behind the seat and discovered he didn’t have any forceps with him to pull Elbert out. Then he remembered leaving them in the kitchen after he’d pulled a baked potato out of the oven.

“More bother,” he grumbled. Carl hadn’t made it home yet on the Waterloo Boy, so Doc went out to Carl’s shed and helped himself to a posthole digger. It seemed a good bet. “If it can grab a slug of dirt and pull it out,” Doc reasoned, “it should work for Carl and Agnes’s baby.”

By the time Carl got home, Doc Yeager had the post hole digger warming up by the stove.

“You gonna pull my baby out with that!?” Carl asked.

“Either that or we can tie a rope to it and pull it out with the tractor.”

Agnes wasn’t pleased. Neither was Elbert, I guess, because he sure didn’t want to come out. But Doc Yeager stuck to his plan and grabbed Elbert’s head with the post hole digger. Doc was a snapping turtle once he latched onto a baby’s head. You could have shot the doc dead and his hands would still have held on, pulling.

Now Agnes’ brother had been a sailor on the Great Lakes and she screamed every oath she’d ever heard him use. Carl cussed out the doctor for forgetting his forceps and the high price of his fee. And the doctor cussed baby Elbert for his stubborn stupidity. After the baby was born they painted his room purple ’cause that was the color of the language he heard when he came out.

By the time Doc won his tug of war, Elbert’s head was shaped like a post. That was a hard way to get born, but it did make him the most interesting-looking kid in the county. Elbert was an only child. Agnes never wanted another. Carl was pissed off, too. Doc had bent the blades on his digger. He took the cost of a replacement out of the doctor’s fee.

Elbert’s thinking never seemed right. People looked at Elbert’s head, listened to him talk, and walked off muttering “dumb as a post.” Once he got a wrong idea into his head, you couldn’t bust it out with a jackhammer.

Elbert bought the 1948 edition of the Chicago Tribune that mistakenly announced Thomas Dewey’s win over Harry Truman. And he kept it. Throughout the rest of the Truman years, he insisted at some point during every conversation he had that Dewey was our real president and Truman was just a pretender. He kept on about it until Eisenhower was elected in 1952. Elbert liked Ike. The rest of county liked not hearing about Dewey.

People never blamed Doc Yeager for Elbert’s thinking. Not when they looked at the rest of Elbert’s family. Elbert’s lineage was like a line of poplar posts going back into prehistory. Not a good white oak post in the lot. Like my dad used to say, “A punky post may break left or it may break right, but it never stands plumb.”

 

Copyright © 2018 by Michael B. Smetzer

 

Mike's Family Home in "The Wilderness." Photo by Vera Lisa Smetzer.

Mike’s Family Home in “The Wilderness” in Autumn. Photo by Vera Lisa Smetzer.

 

Back View in Winter. Photo by Vera Lisa Smetzer.

Back View in Winter. Photo by Vera Lisa Smetzer.

You Can’t Believe What Happened

May 29, 2018

 

You Can't Believe What Happened - photo by Vera Lisa Smetzer

You Can’t Believe What Happened – photo by Vera Lisa Smetzer

 

a) I wanted to see if I could use Granddad’s straight razor without having a strop to sharpen it. Apparently not.

b) Worst zit since high school. Could be flesh-eating bacteria!

c) Curling injury. I was sweeping so hard I lost my balance and poked myself with the end of the broom.

d) You should see the other side where the bullet came out!

e) I thought, I’ll just stand back and watch this bar fight. Then some guy throws wild and nails me with a bottle.

 

OK, I needed a prop to justify calling off work to go to the beach. Now I’m stuck with it.

First Attempt at Kindle Direct Publishing

April 13, 2018

My first attempt at publishing on Kindle is now live and for sale at a grand price of 99¢. It is a chapbook-length collection of brief political essays and epiphanies.

Overall, I am happy with how it came out, although the contents page from the draft appears to have gotten lost. I also thought I could select the parts to be shown under the Look Inside feature but apparently not so.

Donald Trump, Bernie Sanders & George Armstrong Custer

Link to Book

 

Reducing Water Consumption

December 26, 2017

Went into a store restroom and saw two signs prominently displayed above the sinks. The first read: “Low-flow faucets throughout this store help reduce water consumption 42%.”

The second explained in six steps, with illustrations, how to wash your hands. Step 1: Turn on hot water and moisten hands. Step 2: Dispense soap. Step 3: Rub hands together. Step 4: Rinse under the still running hot water. Step 5: Dry hands thoroughly with paper towels. Step 6: Use the same paper towels to finally turn off the hot water.

Our hands are clean but we ain’t green.

 

First Street, Scarborough, Maine - photo by Vera Lisa Smetzer

“Snowy Snowy Mike” – photo by Vera Lisa Smetzer

Hunting Season & Hunting Safety

October 31, 2017

Dad wanted Mom to go rabbit hunting with him, but he only bought her a .410 shotgun. Dad thought of Mom as a city girl, so he didn’t feel comfortable having her hunting next to him with a 12 gauge. When Dad decided that I was old enough to go hunting, he had me use Mom’s .410 for rabbits and he bought me a single-shot .22 for squirrels. Dad was a safe hunter. He didn’t take unnecessary chances.

Bernie & Viola Smetzer

Mom & Dad

Mike’s Tips for Tipplers

October 7, 2017

 

Lord Culvert Canadian’s 1.75 liter bottle is on sale again in Maine this month for $5 off. So here’s a simple idea every frugal tippler should try.

Get out your double shot glass and pour yourself a good one. Then you’ll need some Torani White Chocolate Sauce, available locally at Marden’s Surplus & Salvage for a very reasonable price. Add a long squirt of white chocolate sauce. Stir well. Delicious! Your Culvert will now have flavor and complexity you never believed possible.

And you can save big time by serving this home-made liqueur to the sweeties in your life. No more buying Baileys Irish Cream or Drambuie at rip-off prices! White Chocolate Culvert is just about the same thing. The classy guy will serve this drink after dinner.  Pour it into liqueur glasses and bring it in on a silver-plated tray from the kitchen.

Silver-plated trays are cheap and easy to find at Goodwill. Be sure to use intimate lighting so she won’t notice those spots where the base-metal shows through. The rest of the evening, my friend, is up to you.

Extra tip: You can make this liqueur as sweet and chocolaty as she likes!