Shock and Awe

This is a piece I wrote after meeting Maurice LuVell (not his real name) at Enterprise Rental Car in Phoenix in November ‘08… (He was fun; inclined to shock and awe. His fingers would hover above the keyboard ready to write up my rental transaction, then drop down as he went off on another crazy tangent.  I decided to put his words and ideas into the following 'poem'.

 Welcome!  I’m Maurice LuVell and I excel at  taking care of you well.

Hey! You’re from Minnesota where Tom Petters had no iota he’d gone over his quota-

You know you’d  steal a million dollars if you could.

“I wouldn't.” You would!  You knoooooow  you would!

Most Brothers take a shot to steal the pot until they stupidly get caught.

Not me! I know when to stop.

What? No, I don’t blush when I tell you this stuff!

‘Cause we see our mom and dad having sex before we’re six.

And we’re used to conflicts with pricks with short wicks…

Living so close gives you a dose of things that are gross;

Dead bodies and guns, cops hosing off blood ‘til it’s over and done.

“Soooo,” (trying new terrain:) “You like Arizona’s McCain?” 

McCain?  A white  pain! Not my  senator, I abstain!

Now, Obama—he’s my Dali Lama—oh mama!

---You're looking at my butt!

“I wasn't!”  Oh, yes you were, you knooooow you were!

You’re inclined to think its fine—a bit divine! Should see it supine!

You’re blushing alright! I’m not so uptight as folks that are white!

 (His arrogant song is far too long.  I should be gone!  But he goes on:) 

I Paid too much child support—made this rich man short;

So I quit Goldman Sachs—earned six figures pre-tax!  

Hiding the money from my ex-honey lets me live in a sunny

Gated community with immunity and equal opportunity!

I’ll tell you about my neighbors—drop some names.  I like to play that game.

Working here?  Keeps my golf days clear for courses premier!

(Maurice will not cease his pompous press release.  I need some peace!) 

“Now, Maurice, about that car…”

Hey! I can give you upgrades with gas pre-paid-- or more  personal accolades—

Have I bragged about the winner kids I’ve made?

(Forty minutes of this stuff!   Renting a car shouldn't be so tough!  I've had enough!)
©2008  Jana B Patrick

The Chicken Dance

        

Last October our son Ryan’s family was going to be celebrating a wedding on his wife's side with three members of Ryan’s family in the wedding party.   Getting ready for the out of town trip was a mixture of chaos and anticipation with having 20 and 5 month old sons, a house guest,  renting tuxes, fitting dresses and all the last minute plans and preparations.  I decided to make a few meals for them.  I called our daughter-in-law, Caroline, and told her that I just bought two chickens and would like to give her one.  There was a very long pause on the other end of the line and then,  “You’re going to give me a chicken???” 
I laughed, “A DEAD one, Caroline!  I’m gonna cook it for you!”   
She laughed and said, “You scared me! A chicken running around would be about the last thing I would need right now!!"

Caroline’s email message the next morning:   “ I am still recovering from the horrifying image I got of chicken's flying around my house!!!!!! HAHAHA  LoL”

 It’s almost Easter.  I wonder how I can help them out.  Hmmmm...  

Baby chicks?  A bunny?  A fuzzy little duckling?  Or just a plain old tuna casserole?  

Happy Easter!

p.s.  In Caroline's defense, it really wouldn't be out of character for me to do something like giving her a real, clucking, feathery, egg-laying, chicken...But I promise not to!

©10/5/10  Jana B Patrick

I Would Rather Have a Root Canal...

Alana and I went for a "Relaxation" massage while in Scottsdale.  As I followed my masseuse, Helga, into a darkened, aroma therapy scented room with barely audible new age music, I noted with approval that she looked strong and well able to deliver that deep muscle relaxation!


It was the most painful 55 minutes of my life. She began by running her elbow deep into my flesh along both sides of my spine, then pulled each shoulder back in unnatural contortions shaking them until they rattled. The tortuous elbow was jammed hard into several 'pressure' points on my ass, holding each time until I said, "Uncle!"  Thinking about the inevitable polka dot bruising, I was thankful I hadn't bought the thong swimsuit...  Remember the 'Veg-O-Matic'? That's what she did to each cheek after the elbow torture.  It got so bad, I started divulging State Secrets.


Finally she had me on my back and was finishing up with my head and neck--maybe I was finally to get some relaxation--what could she do to hurt me there?  HA!  She jammed her fists under my upper back twisting and jolting like an out of control jack hammer and then bent my neck in ways even Gumby would find anatomically offensive.


My session went over by 5 extra minutes--some might consider this 'A Good Deal,' but I was thinking that if I were Royalty I would consider having her beheaded. The Relaxation Slayer wants me to come back next week to get more of the kinks out.


I would rather have a root canal.                 ©2011, Jana B. Patrick