Some growing up memories:
Once in awhile,
some unfortunate soul would make
a phone call to our place
and ask for "Mary" or "Bill."
There was no one named Mary or Bill at our house.
But my father would say,
"Oh, Mary went out with Bill about half an hour ago."
Or,"Bill went out with Mary about twenty minutes ago."
You get the picture.
My mother would shake her head and say,
"You're going to cause a murder."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I grew up in the midst of my grandfather's farm.
In later years, it was sold, and became known as
'Greenfield Industrial Park.'
The familiar ponds I used to ice skate on
became elegant pools of water
with fountains spouting from
their midst.
Park benches were placed along
walkways and trees were planted along
these paths.
My father liked to ride his golf cart
along these paths.
He liked to do it at night
when lovers were enraptured
with each others presence.
"Whizz," went the wind of the
noiseless golf cart
like a ghost in the night.
The startled lovers didn't know
what flew by them in the dark.
He got a kick out of that.
Perhaps that is why I like to
electronically open my car trunk
or hit the panic button
when innocent shoppers are passing
by my empty car.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Oh, and then there was this.
If you called our house to sell a product,
you would find that the world's greatest
auctioneer had flipped your goal in life and was
in control of the selling situation
as he tried to convince you to buy a
tractor trailer load of cattle
or light bulbs from him.
Needless to say,
the hapless sales person
got off the phone
as soon as possible.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
These days,
when a salesman calls during the evening meal,
Phil asks them politely,
"Do you want to have dinner with me?"
I suppose they say 'no'
because he always says,
"Well, I don't want to have dinner with you either.
Good-bye."
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