“I don’t know why I sit here, hour after hour on this uncomfortable bank…wetting my line. That’s really all I’m doing! I just might be the worst fisherman EVER! It IS relaxing, actually it’s boring if truth be told. And with the cost of the rod and reel, the bait, these waders that I never use, and the vest. I DO love the vest though with all the pockets and little loops for the flys, the khaki “Ernest Hemmingway” look of it. He was a FISHERMAN…” THE OLD MAN AND THE SEA”, but he was more of a BILL fisherman. He’d never sit on a muddy bank like this for hours on end and then make a stop by the fish market on the way home to salvage at least SOME of his masculine dignity…no he’d NEVER do that.”

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

“This hook is KILLIN’ me! It really hurts and it’s very restrictive too. I just KNOW I’m gonna drown! I just know it! But does HE care? NO, I DON’T THINK SO!…he just sits there all relaxed, NOT in pain…NOT drowning…and these pesky fish scare me, bumping into me with their lips, I guess they are lips. I don’t think I can take much more of this. If the idiot had just…kinda…cut me in two at least half of me could go on my merry way…BUT NO!!! He wants me to wriggle …well I’ve got news for him…I AIN’T wrigglin’. If I, perish the thought, play “dead” these stupid fish won’t even notice me and jerkface there might reel me back in and replace me with cousin Harvey… HATE that worm…and throw me away on that beautiful muddy bank. Well, that’s my plan and I’m stickin’ to it!!!”

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“Look at that dufus up there on the bank. What does he think…we’re STUPID or somethin’? I mean, even a smelt wouldn’t fall for that old “worm on the hook” trick. He didn’t even put the bait on properly…look you can clearly see the point stickin’ through that ugly unappealing earthworm. I mean, it practically takes your appetite away! Excuse me a second there’s a Mayfly on the surface…”GULP!”…got ‘em! Love it! Well anyhow, I think it’s an affront to all of us fish the way some of these “sport” fishermen show such utter disrespect for our intelligence don’t you Charlie…ah…Charlie? Where are you…OH NO!…Charlie…how could you???”

“Hi! The keys on my keyboard are helping me give a shout out to you today. Normally, I’m not a very popular key because you see I’m the DELETE button.”
“Oh, I do have a few close friends like the space bar (who never says much, but is a great listener) and the backspace arrow, who kinda does the same job as me, so we have something in common.”
“The most popular keys like E and ENTER never want to chat. I’ve never shared a single word with CTRL…EVER.”
“I can’t actually figure out why I’m so unpopular with almost all of the other keys, after all I give them another chance to be used over again later. But I’m content with my role on the keyboard, and actually I believe that I’m one of the most popular keys. Why do I think that you ask? Because my writer Russ makes so many mistakes, he actually uses me more than any other key.”
“I was going to chat longer but I’m an expert about knowing when to delete.”

Billy’s grandfather liked to tell Billy about “The Good Old Days” when life was simple, less expensive and lots more fun.
It was hard for Billy to really understand everything that his “Papa” told him and sometimes Billy wondered if indeed all of Papa’s stories were really how things were.
After all, Billy and his Mom and Dad lived in the same small town where Papa grew up fifty years ago and Billy knew that some of the same buildings were still there because they had dates carved into some of their cornerstones.
Sometimes Papa would show Billy old yellowed black and white pictures of their town and a few of them featured items and places that Billy recognized.
One afternoon near the end of summer vacation Billy was walking down South Street just off Main when he walked by a store front that was always empty with an old “For Rent” sign in the corner of the window. But today the windows were not dingy and dusty but were clean and shiny and in fact the front wooden and glass door was wide open.
Billy looked inside and there was a marble counter with round stools and a large glass case with lots of jars and colorful boxes lined up side by side.
“C’mon in…Billy…isn’t it?”
“Ah….yes….Sir….but…?”
“Billy Jones…ah yes…Edward’s grandson….you’re a fine looking lad!”
Billy was still standing in the doorway, leaning and peering into the store and wondering about the gray haired man with the wire rim glasses that seemed to know exactly who Billy was. The man had on a cream colored apron and was holding a damp rag in his hand.
“Just cleaning up the fountain a bit…could I make you a Lemon Phosphate or an Ammonia Coke. No…you wouldn’t know about those would you….how about a hot fudge Sundae with wet nuts and whipped cream and of course a Maraschino cherry on top?”
“Ah…..” was all that Billy could manage.
“We’ve got a great assortment of penny candy too Billy. Mary Janes and Squirrel Nuts and Kits and wax lips….and well….if you don’t have the money today you can pay me next time you’re in the store. By the way how is your Papa Edward?”
“Ah…he’s fine….ah….Sir…..he……”
“So what’ll it be Billy? Here sit down at the fountain and I’ll whip you up something special…say a banana split!”
“Ah….” Billy was saying “Ah” a lot and figured he’d better find out what was really going on.
“Did you just open up here….Mister…..?”
“Henry Jenkins…. but you can just call me Jenks….everyone does. Heck I opened this place in the early fifties when your Papa was in grade school. Yep been here a long time!”
“But I’ve never….I mean I walk by here lots and I never saw..”
Billy was very bewildered.
Jenks was just squirting the last puff of whipped cream onto the banana split and slid it across the white marble counter toward Billy.
“Here…you’ll need this too!” Jenks handed Billy a long spoon and two paper napkins. As Billy tasted the boat shaped dessert Jenks rattled and snapped a small brown paper bag and leaned into the penny candy case and plucked out about a dozen assorted candies and dropped them into the bag.
It didn’t take Billy long to finish the Banana Split and scoop the last melted ice cream out of the bottom of the stainless steel dish.
“That was good….Jenks!”
“You betcha….best in town!”
Jenks folded the top of the bag together and handed it to Billy. Pay me next time you come by and don’t forget to remember me to your Papa!”
Billy said…”Thank you Jenks…I’ll see you soon.”
“Take care now son!”
As Billy crossed over the threshold of the store he turned to wave so long to his new friend Jenks. But the door was closed and the widows dingy and dirty with a “For Rent” sign in the corner of the window.
“What?” said Billy out loud and a woman who was passing by turned and stared at Billy and then hurried along and glanced back at him as she went.
Billy went to scratch his head when he realized that he still had a small brown paper bag in his hand…full of penny candy!

“See that painting…there on the wall behind the English chest of drawers?” asked Ellen’s grandpa.
“Sure Papa…it’s…ah….nice …I guess.” Ellie, as grandpa usually called her, was more interested in the cuckoo clock that was about to strike “Three”.
Ellie’s grandpa smiled at his six year old (and only) granddaughter and left her alone as she stood in anticipation of the hourly event.
By the time grandpa made it back to his easy chair in his den, the cuckoo clock had marked the hour and Ellie was about to return to the children’s television show that she had been watching earlier when she heard the unmistakable “Toot” of a train whistle.
Ellie liked trains and knew that there were no train tracks near grandpa’s house and was puzzled by the sound. Then there was the sound of a “whoosh” that seemed to be coming from the painting that was her grandpa’s favorite, and as Ellie looked up at the picture, steam was pouring out beyond the frame!
Ellie’s wide open non-blinking eyes were fixed on the painting “Cove Halt”. All of the people and animals and yes, the train, seemed to be very slowly moving. There was a small child with its back turned to the viewer, standing in the lower left foreground of the painting. Ellie couldn’t tell by the way it was dressed if it was a boy or a girl.
“It must be a girl…look at that big hat…” Ellie thought. Then suddenly a bright flash as bright as anything she’d ever seen made her close her eyes to the extreme brightness of it.
When she opened her eyes she wasn’t standing in grandpa’s living room anymore. She was standing on a dirt and cinder road holding the reins of a very large draught horse and wearing a large straw hat with a wide black bow!
Looking up to the right she could see, hear and even smell the smoke from the old steam train. And there was another little girl being helped into an old car by a man and a woman…just…like…in grandpa’s painting.
She turned around and looked back but there was absolutely nothing behind her and just then the huge horse pulled his head to the left and jerked the reins completely out of her hands.
“Hey now..Ellie…hold him tight!” and a large man dressed in work clothes patted the horse and replaced the reins into Ellie’s hand.
“Let’s tie him up and go into the pub and get you a ginger beer. What do ya say to that eh?”
The man seemed to know her and when he turned to fully face her and give her the reins to the massive horse he looked just like her grandpa.
The train whistled and clanged and chugged off as they tied up the horse and made their way inside of the pub with the thatched roof.
Throughout the entire episode Ellie had not uttered a word but then asked the man who looked so much like her grandpa “Where are we?”
“Why… the Horseshoe Pub Ellie you’ve been here dozens of times before. You know I have to meet the train on the weekend in case there’s any freight to be hauled when you come to stay with me.”
Then he said to the pub owner “We’ll have the usual Sam.”
“Hi Ellie…how’s Clyde behavin’?”
Ellie had no idea who Clyde was, then remembered seeing “CLYDE” engraved on an old worn brass plate on the horse’s harness. “Ah…oh he tries to pull the reins away some but I can hold him!”
“Good girl!” smiled the owner, Mr. Sampson.
Ellie drank her ginger beer and smiled at the few other patrons in the pub and thought to herself “This is the first time that I had a dream and actually knew that it WAS a dream!”
After her second ginger beer the man who looked like her grandpa said…”Well…gotta get back now Sam, we’ll be seein’ you Saturday next if the good Lord’s willin’ eh!”
“Right you are Ned…and Ellie…you show that Clyde who’s Boss eh?”
“Ah…yes Mr. Sampson I will. Then Ellie took “Ned’s” hand and they left the pub and went outside to Clyde. The sun was shining brightly and as Ellie looked up into the sky another bright blast of whiteness made her squint and when she opened her eyes she found that she was back in grandpa’s living room looking at the painting.
Just then she felt her grandpa’s arm around her shoulders and she heard him say…
“That’s my favorite painting in the whole world Ellie!”
She looked up at her grandpa and said… “Mine too!”

Henry didn’t like being referred to as the “dummy”. Well, no one does do they? But he did have a job with Yuley Simmons, the talented ventriloquist from Las Vegas.

Although Henry couldn’t move his own arms or legs, or head and especially not his own mouth, Yuley was very adept at manipulating Henry so that the audience actually thought that Henry was alive and could talk.
When Henry’s lips were moving, Yuley’s weren’t, and that is the essence of ventriloquism isn’t it?
Henry would sit in a large box backstage between shows with nothing to do. There were no lines to memorize and he didn’t have to worry about sleeping through a show. Yuley always got him at just the right time and directed all of Henry’s moving parts when they were on stage. Henry didn’t even mind the spotlights shining directly into his eyes since his head was made out of wood!
But one afternoon in July, Henry was thinking about his right hand and it began to move. He looked down and found that he could lift it up and lower it. Then he moved his left hand, then his head and finally his mouth and he said “Wow!” in his OWN VOICE!
“Wait until Yuley finds out about this!” he thought.
But wait! If Henry didn’t tell Yuley about his newly discovered abilities, Henry could exert some control over what Yuley was trying to make Henry do and say.
Henry recalled that there was a yellow and black book in the dressing room titled “VENTRILOQUISM FOR DUMMIES” and with Henry’s new ability to do so, he opened the lid of his box and grabbed the book and read it clear through!
“So THAT’S how it’s done!” Henry was amazed and empowered by his new knowledge.
The very next show when Yuley thought that he was speaking and moving for Henry, Henry said…”Wait! I’m NOT a DUMMY…maybe you are!” And Henry turned his head and lifted his arm and pointed to Yuley!
The crowd loved it and laughed and some shouted “Yeah! You go Henry. You tell him!”
“What are you doing?” whispered Yuley.
“I’m claiming equality in the act Yuley.” Henry whispered back, without moving his lips by the way!
Yuley could do nothing but smile at the audience.
“Move your mouth.” Henry demanded and Yuley did so.”
Then Henry shouted “Now which one is the dummy now?”…and the audience went wild.
“Take a drink of water.” Henry told Yuley.
As Yuley drank, Henry recited “Mary Had A Little Lamb!”
The crowd went crazy again.
It’s been a while since that first show when Yuley became the “Dummy” and now Henry has his own five bedroom home with swimming pool and drives a new Porsche.
The marquee outside of the Las Vegas showroom reads “Henry and his Dummy Yuley!…appearing nightly.”

How all those animals knew when it was 8AM, let alone that fact that it was held only on Saturdays, and they all seemed to knew when that was, is still a wonder to me.
That rear garden of his was hidden, not only from the street and blocked by his big white house, but the entire perimeter of the yard was completely surrounded by a privit hedge that had been there for decades and hadn’t been trimmed for nearly as long.
It was actually by chance that I managed to spy on the scene one Saturday in the Fall when I was but eight years old. I thought that I saw something shiny in the dirt under the heavy branching that covered the ground under those privits, and when I struggled to part all of the thick underbrush and lower branches, there they were!
Old Mr. Thompkins was sitting on a wooden chair in the middle of them all with a large old book opened to about halfway, reading slowly and in a gentle voice and the circle of creatures nodding and turning to look at each other from time to time.
Once every page or so there would be a burst of spontaneous applause, but since most of the audience was furried, there was no “clapping” sound like with we humans. (I assume that you readers ARE all humans….aren’t you?)
Anyhow, there was a nearly complete circle of mostly small and medium sized animals if you can picture it, in rapt attention to the reader and his story. There were rabbits, mostly grey ones, and chipmonks, which admittedly had a hard time keeping still, and of course there were a myriad of birds. I noticed that additional birds were covering low branches with their heads turned toward Mr. Thomkins, intently listening along with the audience on the ground.
There was even a box turtle, and some animal that I’m not really sure of, but looked like a groundhog.
I heard Mr. Thompkins say…”And they all lived happily ever after…and I wish that for all of you…TOO!”
There was silent applause again and then most of the animals dispersed in many directions with a Tabby cat coming up to the old man and rubbing against his leg as he stood. The cat followed Mr. Thomkins into the house so I guessed that it was his own pet but all of the other animals were naturally wild but they all sure did love hearing the old man read  to them on Saturday morning storytime.

“OK who’s next?”
The basketball coach heard two grunts coming from somewhere behind the lineup of hopeful Junior Varsity tryouts.
“What? Somebody have a problem…or something….?”
Then the tall front line of future players parted slightly and three foot eleven Billy Klein squeezed through….”Me coach…you didn’t let me tryout yet!”
“Ah…well…this is the tryouts for the JV “BASKETBALL” team…were you looking for the….soccer tryouts maybe?”
“No…I wanna play JV Basketball and get my school letter and sew it on my sweater so everyone knows that I made….”
The coach interrupted “Ah…let’s get serious ah…what’s your name….?”
“Ah….Billy…Smith….Sir…I know I’m a bit …well…more compact than these guys but just….”
“Listen…Billy Smith…I don’t get much time to use the gym….sorry! Anyhow I’m pretty sure I’ve already selected the players for this season…go see coach Martin about soccer.”
Then the coach blew the whistle and yelled…”OK men hit the showers!” The “team” dispersed quickly leaving Billy all alone in the center of the court.
He felt like crying but then just as he turned to leave the Gym in a state of sadness, he spotted a basketball in the far corner. He went over and picked up the ball and looked at it…then looking at the basket which was 30 feet away, Billy set his feet squarely and with both hands launched the ball…mostly in utter despair because he didn’t get a chance to even try out!
“Swish!!!” The ball went straight into the basket…all net!
“That was fun thought Billy and did it again three more times moving another step back for each successive shot.
“SWISH…SWISH…SWISH!”
Then Billy just let the ball bounce on until it rolled back into the corner, and he headed for the Gym exit.
As he got to the door the basketball coach opened it and said, “Congratulations Billy…you’re on the team!”

Grandpa Sanders was looking high and low. Into every drawer and into every closet and even into every mirror although his grandson Mark didn’t know what his Grandpa was searching so much for, especially in mirrors.
“Ah Papa…what are you trying to find?”
“Oh….I’m looking for something that I think I lost and can’t seem to locate.”
“Maybe I can help Papa.”
“Naw…I don’t believe so. It’s all up to me and me alone to find it.”
“Well…what is it Papa? Is it a book or a piece of jewelry…or a key…yeah…you are always losing your keys.”
“No…not those things. I lost something that you should never ever lose. Something you need everyday no matter how old you get to be.”
Mark was searching around under chairs and behind cabinets but admitted he actually was just trying to be helpful and had no clue as to what his grandpa had lost.
Then Grandpa Sanders stopped and squatted down and spoke directly at Mark.
“You’ve still got it and I want you to promise me you’ll never lose it no matter what!”
“Ah…well OK Grandpa…but it would help a whole lot to know what it is that I should never lose.”
“The “KID” in you. Even after you grow up and be a man and even when you get to be as old as me…always keep that kid that you are today inside of you.”
“Well…I think I kinda see what you mean Grandpa.”
Then Mark started to think and then a huge smile lit up Mark’s formerly sad face and he took his Papa’s hand.
“C’mon Grandpa…I think I know where you can find it again.”
Mark led Grandpa Sanders outside into the backyard and onto the playground filled with swings and a sliding board.
His Papa started to smile and run, not too fast, but still running, straight for the sliding board, climbed to the top and as he whooshed down the slide yelled out an unmistakable “WHEEEE!” and just about at the middle of the slide, Mark’s Grandpa found his lost “KID”.

When she was born Silvia noticed that the color of her scales was different from those of all of her brothers and sisters. Theirs were golden scales and made them look  like golden rays of sun swimming in the large pond which Silvia knew as “home”. And most of the other older fish inhabiting the pond were various shades of yellow and gold too. Silvia was more like the color of the rocks along the sides of her home and she wished that she were a beautiful golden shade too.

Also Silvia seemed to always get blamed for any trouble that, especially her brothers, would cause. When there was a commotion, except for feeding time of course, it seemed as though every creature in the pond stared at just her!
Some of the frogs were gray and the slugs were grayish but she was a “GOLD…fish” that somehow wasn’t very gold!

Silvia tried to swim in the bright sun rays that gleamed into the pond hoping to capture the sun’s color but it just made her look  more  silvery. Silvia did notice that the other fish were sometimes confused and weren’t sure which “Gold” fish was which and called them by the wrong names. But everyone knew who Silvia was, but that didn’t make Silvia feel special. And anyhow Silvia didn’t need to feel “special” she just wanted to fit in and be one of the school.

At school one day Silvia found out that she and all her family were CARP. And then she found out that not all carp are gold. In fact, Silvia was technically a Hypopthalmichthys Molitrix or Silver Carp. Well, fish, even carp, can’t write or spell so Silvia didn’t much care what she “technically ” was. Then the rest of her school started to tell her how beautiful that her silvery color was and that they wished that they were silver too. Even the Koi started telling her how they wished that they didn’t have “all these spots all over” and admired her flawless silvery complexion.

It was then that Silvia decided that it was better to appreciate who you are, and be the best “YOU” you can be instead of wishing that you were somebody else. Quite often, that someone else, wished that they were you!

“Get your heel outta my face please!”
“Hey…like I can help it or somethin’!  I got some ugly argyle toe in MY face!”
“Ah watch who yer callen ugly Laddie.”
“Yeah…well…I just want my mate…I haven’t seen Lefty in weeks.”
“Me too…it’s so nice in that sock drawer chattin’ with those other matched pairs…ah…I really  miss it.”
“The WORST are those athletic socks…they never really do get completely clean and they’re so thick and take up so much of our space here!”
Then there was a whimper and sob coming from the top of the pile.
“There there…you’ll be OK little one…we’re all here with you.”
The baby sock with it’s pink ruffle was very sad having just come from the last dryer load.
“I….I….think my match is…..ooohhhh….still in the dryer….CAUGHT!”
“Yeah…happened to golf sock over there…never did find his mate. Oh I shouldn’t have said that should I?”
“Boo Hoo…I’ll never see him again.”
“Now Now….it’ll be OK…you’ll see.
Then all of a sudden the woven basket that held them was lifted and dumped on the big bed. Then soon after, another pile of socks was thrown onto the bed.
“Hey….there’s my….HEY OVER HERE!”
Then human hands started matching up all the socks and folded and tucked the pairs together and threw them into the sock drawer. All of the socks were happy except one old striped one with a hole in the toe.”So long guys maybe I’ll see you all again soon.”
The little baby sock with the pink ruffle was still sad so the striped sock let it snuggle up as they were placed back into the woven basket.
“Maybe next time little one.” Then whispering to himself….”I HATE dryers!”