A Mixed Quantum Salad

I was just making dinner the other day when L. came into the kitchen. She looked here and there, but mostly there, saying “What are we eating tonight B-kins, and don’t say Cabbage again!”

Lola tossed and turned in her sleep, while the dream-machine displayed exactly what was going on in her subconscious. Barney the Vision Moose wondered why she had such troubled dreams, but luckily for the most of us, we really don’t remember what went on when we were “getting” a good night’s sleep anyway!

Seated at the table, B. said, “Lola my love, let us dine together and toast to our love everlasting!” said while pouring two glasses of the finest wine direct from the Wayneyard Vineyards of Healy Alaska.

B. started their usual banter. Just the other day, the lads and I at the Bent Antler Bar in Homer, were shooting the breeze about our usual, mundane topics when Armand said, “Have any of you tasted the newest crop of Gluons lately?” We just shook our heads saying, “You know that Gluons are not available in the Winter in Alaska, so – Wally just shook his head in dismay after hearing the word, Alaska, but-“

Lola just munched on her Quantum Salad, noticing the interesting flavors and colors involved. “Is this…?” pointing at the Quarks, and Hadrons, while B. just said, “Uh-Huh” then continued to eat, while continuing with his story.

B. said, “Armand you’ve most likely been had by some shyster who had been selling those Gluons as locally-grown, but knowing how they aren’t in season right now, I would have said,” I wouldn’t trust that salesman as far as I could throw him!”

Lola just stared at me and said, “Are you telling me that these here” – pointing at the fundamental particles before her – “are not locally-grown?”

I tried to hide the fact that her usual Gluons were delayed being shipped from the supplier in Cern, but Lola was not born just yesterday, that is if you’d wound her atomic clock, as I was known to do on the odd occasion!

So Wally says, “I think we need to stand Unified on this subject and gather the many Strings together in our Theory and present them to the local growers association, and hear what they are going to do about this problem!”

L. just looked at B. across the table saying, “This reminds me of the time when you were trying to seduce me with your fancy words like Quantum chromodynamics, while pouring me drink after drink at that bar in Healy, Alaska trying to feel your way along my leg to see if our electrical charges matched!”

Lola wondered if eating too much Spiced Wikipedia would make blogs like this end up in the Trash Can, but since she was just dreaming this sequence, while others were doing the writing, she decided to step into B.’s particle accelerator, and see how long the ride of her life would last…..

“Stick with me Baby, and soon our love will exceed the Speed of Light!”

L. knew that was an impossibility, but then Men did try just about anything at all in order to toss her Quantum Salad, or whatever it was they called that kind of thing in Cern today?

With the dishes put away, then the hum of the organic dishwasher was heard burping in the background, the two lovers retired to the bedroom, where-

Barney the Vision Moose wondered why he was present in this blog at all? Was he just a random story element, that went nowhere and did nothing, but showed up in the beginning and at the ending just in case the blog needed propping up along the way?

With the blog drawing to a close, the pages of Wikipedia were placed aside for another time and place. Lola was a bit sad that the original intent of the story line got muddled in too many subplots, while the boys at the Bent Antler were still discussing topics that lacked any form and function whatsoever, as the blog lights started to dim, allowing the lights of inspiration again room to flourish and bloom.

-in someone elses imagination, that is….

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When the Typewriter Ribbon Broke

I really needed to go down to the stationary store and buy a new typewriter ribbon for the old…, but I didn’t know if the old lady had gotten up yet?

“Lola Babe. Have you put your face on yet?”

Sheesh. In the old days, she didn’t need to put on a new face, because the old one was a sight for sore eyes. She could stop a bus with it, and in downtown Homer, that was a real trick. Those bus drivers were a throwback from the old days in Healy, when good old Bus Number One, well I should explain that there only was one bus, but calling it Number One made it seem to Non-Healyites that we were a town that was to be reckoned with!

I remember waiting for it on the corner of Healy and Clear Boulevards. There was always some wiseacre that had spray-painted “Un” in front of the Clear sign just to show you that things weren’t always so cosy between us and Cleareans, but that was just one of those things that started when our team would meet Clears at the yearly joust of the two teams to…”Lola Honey Lips, are you almost there now?” Now and then with women, huh? I bet every guy has gone through a moment like this, what with her yelling soon about how many runs she’s got in her stockings, and why King Size Cigarettes just never seemed to live up to their names!

Anyway, the bus finally arrived, and lo and behold, who was it that was driving that day! None other than…..but I thought, she had left town after the big Coal Mine Disaster than threatened to to take the life of the old town? I said they should close that old pit and go into something else with a future in it, like making Typewriter Ribbons, or Carbon Paper! You never knew when you’d be needing a copy of something and Carbon Paper was, in my opinion, the invention that would put someplace like Healy on the map of Alaska!

Well me and…….got to talking and she said, “Why haven’t you and me ever done the Fairbank’s Fandango” together?” which was a darn good question, and seeing as how she was both a looker and a woman with a profession. I got to wondering if me and her could, or would do something about just that? I suggested we took us a shake at the Milk Shop after she got off work, but she only said, “If you come up to my place instead, then we could-

“You could what?” asked Lola, as I tried my best to thread the Typewriter Ribbon onto the old…but only ended up with my fingers looking like the time that the Carbon Paper couldn’t, even though I would!

She lived on top of the building that housed the Train Station, and it tended to shake a bit when the Anchorage Express used to rumble on past to the Coal and Water Depot just a bit farther up the line. She used to dream about leaving the Bus Business behind and hiking up her skirt one day to make the Engineer stop that old Engine and invite her up to visit him while he stoked the fire, and-

“You lived in Healy where nothing other than Mine Shaft Explosions and Loose Women roamed around, and you were tempted to taste this woman’s shake, while she dreamed of Doing It with the Engineer?” said while she applied her newest makeup-The Face that Stays without additional scaffolding or-

“Gosh Lola. Are you sure this Typewriter ribbon is the right one? The destructions say, “Thread the side marked 1, into the horizontal slot until…hmm, it seems as if the ribbon is larger than the slot!”

“Yeah right, in your dreams it is!” said Lola while wondering if her favorite Radio Program was on tonight, “Doing the Fairbanks Fandango with the Engineer of the Anchorage Express!” That man’s ribbon seemed to fit like a glove into his typewriter, or whatever name she had been using that evening, but then that is only Fantasy, isn’t it?

The building began to shake and shimmy while she turned to me and said, “Is that the Anchorage Express, or do you have some special moves that can thread your ribbon into my slot in a more precise way?”

“There!” said by the man who put the town of Healy on the map of Alaska by telling the Healy Gazette, “Now we can type again. Sure was a hard thing to do, but – after wiping the sweat from his brow – I’ve always been an expert at threading my ribbon into a whole slew of local typewriters – just ask anyone- in Healy that is!

Tomorrow in the Healy Gazette. A local woman reveals her deepest desire for a local boy and his many talents:”He threaded my typewriter, but left before I could thank him with the old Healy Yell,

“Oh, Oh. Yes by God. Yes……!”

The Guffaw of an Alaskan Penguin

“So Murchison says to De la Beche: What is Greywacke to one, is only Sandstone to another”

Bob just sat silently as the punch-line was heard, but little by little, a guffaw exited his beak, and fell to the ground with a feather’s whisper!

Lola came into the room to find B., a man possessing a name unknown, and Bob, or as his friends referred to him, “Feathers.” What are you two squawking about today, or are the rest of us non-avians privy to that fact of the matter?”

“Gosh Lola. If you really are interested about the Great Devonian Controversy, then we can all have a sit-down here in what some people call Alaska, – Bob chortled at hearing that name – and discuss the implications of Greywacke and Red Sandstone as opposed to…….”

Lola’s thoughts started to wander. Bob noted that Lola was experiencing an “Out of Body” experience (OoBE) and decided to go along for the ride.

B. just stood there, expounding on what he thought others wanted to hear about – almost like the content of this blog as a whole– while Lola just-

Lola and her sister were talking together, while at home in ………. Lola said, “If you didn’t sleep with half the town, then maybe the rest of us could hold our heads a bit higher and prouder!”

Bob wondered why her sister was not often heard of in this blog, but made a mental note to investigate that possibility in the future. Lola just looked at him and said, “Why don’t you just keep your feathers to yourself, and eat a fish or something!”

While B. suddenly stopped speaking and said, “Hey you two! I thought after mentioning about the fist-fight at the British Geological Survey, it would have awakened you a bit, but now….”

“Why are you concerned about those “foreigners” anyway?” asked a woman whose sister, somewhere in the past had known, at least in the biblical sense, a number of non-Alaskans, who-

“Lola, Lola, Lola” said B. as if he was singing an old tune, just one that had fallen off the charts, and was wallowing in the Cambrian somewhere? “Look Lola. The British figure greatly in the study of Geology! It’s not as if they had come from Can-uh……, well you know that other place that we mention from time to time?”

Lola’s sister just hung on her latest conquest, some bloke named Van Couver, who sounded like he was from the West, just not from Alaska, that’s all. “Van has promised to show me the Aurora Australis” someday, when we take a trip on his yacht to the Far South….”

Lola just replied, “I’m sure he already has taken you on a trip to his “Far South”, and that is exactly what I’ve been telling you about, trying to protect your reputation, and our standing in the community!”

Bob wondered if he should start humming, “The Wayward Wind” by Patsy Cline, or should he choose a newer adaptation of the same song?

B. wondered if this was one of those Throw-away Blogs, or should he just lean back in the old recliner and let the plot unfold as it should be?

Bob just replied, “If it hadn’t been with all that trouble about resetting someone’s Apple-Id, this blog could have been on its way towards completion, instead of being lost in sub-plots and innuendos.”

Lola, having just returned from her “OoBE” replied, “You know something. That Feathers seems to see a lot more than I’d given him credit for!”

Feathers just leaned back in the recliner thinking, “Part 2 of my Master Plan is now completed! Now on to Part 3…..


Unconsolidated Thoughts

Lola decided to pack their bags and leave Chicken Alaska, as their vacation was over and done with, and that fact wasn’t even viable today. What with any odd assortment of blogs that were concerned with the past, the present and the future, she was all but lost in trying to figure out, just where they really were at the present time?

Just that morning B. said, “Gosh Lola. I’ve got a hankering today to wade through the Superficial Geological Map of the Eagle A2 Quadrangle! What about you, did you bring your rock hammer, like I told you to do?”

Lola just sighed as she considered using the better part of the day, short as it was already to investigate unconsolidated alluvial deposits of the Chicken-area. She might have wanted to commune with “Bob the Penguin” instead, or ask “Un” why he had been strangely absent during the last week of blogging? In the end, she used that time-honored excuse of needing to put a cold-compress on her forehead, while listening to the latest podcast, “Are unconsolidated alluvial deposits the next Trend, or is it just a Tempest in a Tundra Teapot?”

B. just slung his rucksack over his shoulder and whistled his favorite tune, about gravelly shores, as he went out of the front door to places unknown. Lola sat back for a bit, wondering how best to use her time, while Bob just stared out of the window, without saying a word…in Penguin Speak, that is!

Lola thought about the blogs that should have been there before. What about Howie in their absence? Wasn’t there a blog or two about that part of their story? And what about taking the trip to Canada, with B. talking to the Canadians present as if they were Alaskans? It seemed like there were just too many loose ends to the story.

Bob just stared out the window after B. had gone about his business. While Lola was running things through her mind while packing their things, Bob had been strangely quiet and passive. Almost as if he hadn’t really been there at all? When did he really show up in the cabin, when she had been properly introduced to his presence, and having to accept it as a part of the story? When did they decide the one thing, or discover the other? It was all getting muddled together, so Lola just resigned herself to the tasks at hand, and let the whimsy run its normal course.

When she was finished, and had assured herself that all of “his” rocks and things were properly packed away, she went back into the kitchen to….There stood Bob in the middle of the room, just looking at her. Not moving, nor saying anything at all. Just staring.

Lola just said, “You’ve known about this all along, haven’t you?”

Bob just continued to stare, but she did notice a slight nod of his head. Almost indiscernible, but present all the same.

“Those missing pieces will most certainly fall into place along the way, as well as “The Mystery of Bob” will be increasing in leaps and bounds! Or, am I way out of town on that kind of thinking?” said while tidying up the kitchen, but keeping a wary eye on Bob as he shuffled along the floor.

Bob just thought to himself, “Beauty and Brains to boot! And wherever she really did come from, it was most certainly not Healy….That is Healy, Alaska!”

At that moment, B. came back into the cabin, his hands filled with elongate deposits of variable sizes from the Quaternary Epoch, found in Abandoned-Channels!

“Wow and Gosh Lola. Look what I’ve found! It was fantastic, when…Oh. Sorry about that Bob, didn’t see you standing there Bud!”

Bob didn’t take offense at being spared the initial joy of discovery, but he was still on the sidelines when B., almost child-like in his joy, returned to the Bosom of his Family.

Lola just ho-hummed a bit, then wondered how they were going to fit all of his “Souvenirs” in the Willies, what with their Amazing Penguin Find, and other unexpected pieces of this and that?

“We could, if Bob was willing of course, offer him a front-row seat atop the Willies, with one of us “Riding Shotgun” for impending tunnels and the like! Lola, Dear. Seeing as how you’ve handled weapons before, then that should be right up your Bowling Alley?”

Lola just sighed and turned to Bob, who shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “You chose to be with him all those years ago, so……”

“Gosh Lola. Did you ever think that our lives were going to be this fantastic, when we first met each other that time outside Montreal Canada? I remember it as if it were yesterday. We were grazing in Moose Meadow, when you touched my left fetlock in that “special way” and I moosed my way over to you!”

Lola just readied her cold-compresses for the trip and said a last goodbye to Chicken, Alaska!

“-and people from Healy used to say our family had rocks in its head! Well, that was closer to the truth than they ever would have known, and….Maybe it was in Healy when we met each other? I was walking down the street with Bob, when you said, “My goodness gracious, what a lovely Penguin you have there!” Well. I hoped you meant something else, but took it as a compliment, and – pushing Bob behind me- came over to you and touched your fetlock like….or did we really meet in Homer? You’re probably wondering if it had been “The” Homer Alaska, and you know what……

-and Bob wondered how they ended up over the 900-word mark, when just before they only were pushing 650?….



Bob’s Point of Contention

Bob and I were discussing random events and such the other day, when Lola walked into the room. She seemed concerned that

“What do you mean, “I seemed concerned? You and your “Penguin” are sitting on the floor, “discussing life” while I can only hear various tweets, grunts and gasps, with those noises only coming from you!”

“Lola. I’m amazed that your parents didn’t sign you up for “Penguin Speak” when you were growing up in that still undisclosed location, although some of the followers of this blog have suggested it to be Area 51 within the Nevada Test and Training Range, which-

“I did not come from Outer Space, which is what you are implying, isn’t it?”asked by the woman whose shaky identity and doubtful point of origin were still under discussion via the Social Media Links connected with this blog!
“All right” he said while rolling his eyes a bit. “If you are in Denali about that part of your life, then we’ll leave it at that, but the point was really, why you never learned “Penguin Speak” in school?”

“Look you” said Lola, as she brushed the hair away from her eyes, so I could see the reddish glare of…..”Penguins are not indigenous to Alaska. They were most likely brought in by some misfit, who thought Alaska would become a richer and move diverse State by “relocating” foreign elements into our society!”

Bob just sat quietly while his “hosts” were discussing subjects from Extra-terrestrials to why Lola’s hair shimmered like the sunlight atop the Conoco-Phillips Building in Anchorage! Bob remained neutral on those subjects, but made a mental note to investigate the possibility of –

“Well” said Lola interrupting Bob’s thoughts. “What were you and “Bob” discussing?”

“Gosh Lola. With you showing interest in Penguin Speak and all, this might just be a new direction for our relationship! Well, Bob said, and I quote him here, “Your supposition that Mt Wrangell was a Stratovolcano had proved to be incorrect, but some “Geologists” just won’t accept the truth of the matter!”

“Well, let me tell you Lola. That was almost too much to stomach. And to call me a “Geologist” while surrounding the word with quotation marks was just about “over the line” if you catch the drift of my glacial ice deposits from the Holocene?”

Bob just sat quietly as he observed Lola’s reactions after that last statement. She seemed to emit something that resembled steam and vapor plumes from the corner of her mouth, but this in itself was not indicative of a true eruption. Her next words though, revealed the eruptive history of this relationship to this, one lowly observer!

“I’ve had to put up with Penguin Pointer Dogs, and Vision Moose, while our son, is a Moose sometimes, and sometimes not. You’ve invited our friends over to a party to celebrate my absence, while…

Bob pulled out a notepad and began jotting down notes about the increased activity of this unknown Stratovolcano on the Kenai Peninsula. He made a mental note to contact the Alaska Volcano Observatory with his findings, which most certainly would be published in next month’s Newsletter by the Alaska Geological Society!

“What is that “Penguin” doing now?” asked Lola as Bob looked at her with the eyes of an intelligent, and sentient being who-

“Oh, come on Lola. That’s just Bob’s way of interpreting the world around him. He is no different than you and I, other than he was born on an ice floe, and he came from a different part of the world, where Penguins didn’t go around with guns and the like, just living out their simple existence, as birds of a feather that flocked to-

“Stop with that drivel and listen to me. There is something spooky about “Bob” and you are just too blind to see it for yourself” said while giving “Bob” the Evil Eye and observing his reactions to that!

Bob wondered about the point of this blog, and if it was going to turn into a dream-sequence, or would it all come together at or around the 800-word mark, which was the stated intention of this “short-story” form for blogging?

“Lola my love. Can’t you see how far we’ve come in this blog without answering the original question? With so many Stratovolcanoes in Alaska, why is Mt Wrangell classified as a Shield Volcano?”

Bob was busy consulting his “Catalog of the historically active volcanoes of Alaska” when he, out of the corner of his eye, caught Lola’s basaltic stare once again!

“I guess there are some things in this life that are better left to the true Volcano Scientists” to answer, instead of lay people like ourselves!”

He just reached over and gave Lola a hug and a kiss, while an air of reconciliation permeated the air. Bob sensed an increase in hormonal activity in his human host-subjects, and with a wink of the eye, they retired to the adjoining room to discuss Strato-vs. Shield Volcanoes in…

“Wait just a minute” said Lola, as they just about had reached the door to the bedroom. “What is “Bob” going to be doing, while we are “discussing” those things that you just talked about….or other things related to them?”

“Lola, my sweet. Bob will just be doing what he usually does, dreaming of snow and what will be coming for lunch! Just like I would be doing in his place!” said as they disappeared into Area 51, or its equivalent.

Bob just sat there and stared as they exited the scene. He then took out his pencil and noted, “Eruptive Activity is expected to increase in intensity…” –

shouts of “No. I didn’t say to put it there, you Dolt. ….Yes, that’s right…There, Oh My God, right there!

Just as I had expected…..thought Bob…..



❤️ “Hogs!”❤️

“Gosh Lola. It seems a bit contradictory using those red ❤️’s while talking about Hogs, but I guess you know what you are doing?”

Lola was putting the finishing touches on her latest and greatest blog, “Lovers and Other Mothers!” while B. just sat on the floor, playing Tiddlywinks and saying,”Just think how young people today have forgotten about the simple things of life!” said while one of his “Winks” bounced into Lola’s cup of Tundra Tea, but he didn’t have the nerve to tell her about it!

❤️Hugs❤️ she wrote, while he only said, “but why would you write something like that? You don’t know those people from Eve, and it might be misinterpreted, if you throw ❤️’s around as if you really meant it!”

“Look you. People that write Blogs aren’t connected with the Real World anyways, so it doesn’t matter, whether they believe me or not! For all they know, I might actually be that sweet, caring woman just down their street, wanting to help them with their pitiable, and mundane lives, while the rest of us are out and about shooting highway signs to pieces, and scaring the local government officials who “think” that they are running things around here!”

Lola’s logic was not to be denied, especially when she waved her rifle about like it was nobody’s business!

“Now are you going to ride Shotgun with me when I visit the Blogging Convention in downtown Kenai, or are you just going to sit around, “imagining” that your followers are going to show up, and make your life worth living?”

B. just looked longingly over at the PC Monitor, thinking that Today, Yes Virginia, Today, would be his day to break the 6-Like Limit, allowing him to shuffle off his mortal coil – whatever that meant – and that also being something that a certain Blogger in a place called Canada wouldn’t misinterpret again, and go crazy in her head, thinking that he……….

He just sat outside in the Caribou Sidecar, making Revving up noises while he waited for The Girl Named Lola – and don’t you forget it!- to show up for their casual drive into town!

Brum, Brum” he said while the motor increased in RPM’s making the crowds go crazy hoping and praying that his blog would cross the finish-line in front of all the others!

Lola adjusted her Goggles, as he checked the rifle for those noisy things that he usually left alone, or buried out in the back yard, so no one with a fiery temper would get a hold of, and take the law into her own hands!

“I hope you mean bullets?” she asked him, as he wondered how in the Holy Heck this blog was ever going to exceed the 800-word mark, with so little plot, like he never had seen before?

❤️ ❤️❤️❤️’s filled the air, as he blew a kiss in her direction, but she only said, “Save those for your imaginary Canadian Lover, because we don’t have time for such frivolities right now,……Got it?”

The Get-Together was well under way when Lola and Co. pulled up at the Meeting Hall in Downtown Kenai. Lola walked boldly to the front door while inside squeals of delight were heard as the speaker said, “And My Fellow Hog-Lovers of the Homer Hog Owners Association – Kenai Chapter – would most certainly agree with me that I would be the best one to represent our interests at the National Convention in Anchorage, Alaska!”

B. just ran up to Lola saying, “You see. There are other people than just me who need to, and have to say Alaska, with impunity!”

“So with that said my Dear Hog Breeders, I would like to take this opportunity to say, “❤️Hogs!❤️ to all of you!”

The assembly broke out in shouts of “Let me Squeal for you like a Stuck Pig” which was Number One on on the Top Ten ❤️Hog Charts❤️ while Lola just stared out at the masses, finally closing the door again and sitting down on the front steps with a confused look on her face.

B. fingered her rifle, wondering when it was time to Shoot his Mouth Off, when she only said, “Come on you. Let’s see how many likes, you’ve garnered today!” said as she took the reins herself, allowing him to play with his rifle, or whatever they called that kind of thing in Kenai these days?

Back at the Old Homestead Lola said, “I should have known better than to waste my time blogging, leaving tasks like that to those that don’t have other things to occupy their empty existences with!”

B. just looked at what she wrote, while wondering if he should say anything about her ending that statement with a preposition, but decided to let Sleeping Pigs Lie!

❤️Hogs!❤️ My love, said by B.

-as Lola picked up her rifle, wondering just where those noisy things were, those that went into the one end, so quietly, while exiting the other end with a B…….!





Super Mooned

I remember that day as if it were yesterday, which luckily for me, it was! I was sitting in the Lotus Position, while in the Pyramid Room after having re-charged my crystals, when all of the sudden, I….

“Well, I would have said something like, “Gosh Lola” but she knew me pretty good by now, so that wouldn’t have gotten her attention, unless I did something else like saying, “I was Mooned in Downtown Homer yesterday!”

Lola just thumbed through the crystal catalog and wondered why they ever had gotten together in the first place? Was it love, or lust, or did he just bend down to tie his mismatched Tennis Shoes, giving her a good look at the backside of him, noticing a lottery ticket in his pocket with the winning numbers on it!

She just sauntered over to him in that long and slinky way she had about her back then and said,”Well, well, well, young man, and what brings a fine lad like you to the Big City today?”

He just looked at her with eyes as large as the Super Moon, which was hanging dangerously close to Homer Alaska, causing the Imported Canadian Crystals in her Crystal Corner Boutique to glow and set off sparks, intoning imminent doom for anyone closer than Two Kissing Cousins from Clear, that is Clear Alaska, if you didn’t know it by now!

“Well Ma’am” said holding his hat in his hands, while gazing upon the finest form of a woman, he’d never seen before back in Healy. “I’d like to say, you hit my nail on its head, but you might take offense at words like that!”

His mother had tied a handkerchief in one button-whole, with all of the money he had in the world, and told him “Watch out for women when the Super Moon arrives, because they will, sure as shooting, take an innocent young man like yourself and show him the way to their Canada!”

That was just Mom’s way of protecting me, because as we all know, Women have a special way about them, and

Lola sucked on a Denali Blue Popsicle, while she read some cheap Dime-Store Novel about Lust in the Big City. She had only given a quarter for it, in that little store in downtown Kenai named, “Everything for a Dollar” which most people only took with a grain of salt, not costing more than a plugged-nickel, or a-

“Red Cent?” asked Lola, who could read me like a cheap novel, one with the bindings cracking and the cover splitting, when she would say, “If I were you, I wouldn’t bend over any farther, or someone might just see Montreal hiding under your pants!”

She just walked over to him and said, “If you come over to my shop, I’ll show you my newly-charged Crystals….for free!”

I could still hear Mom’s words of warning in my ears as we sashayed over to her place, just filled to the brim with delights never before seen during my formative years in that quaint backwater called Healy, Alaska. She just walked over to the one wall and showed me a sign that said, “Remember. You don’t need to say Alaska, when you are in Alaska!”

I knew then that whatever knowing her was going to cost me, I would die sometime in the future. a happy man knowing that I didn’t need to say Alaska anymore, unless I wanted to that is!

Lola just said, “And to think that this author, attained fame by writing blogs!” reading the “about” on the back cover:

-was inspired to write after receiving a vision after the appearance of the Super Moon! That in itself, being almost a religious experience, turned his head around and discovered the rewarding and fascinating world of blogging. “Go West Young Man” the Moon seemed to say, which prompted him to seek his fortunes in Canada, where he met a woman, who often would say, “Hugs” which told him, like it would have told any warm-blooded Canadian Man that…..

-tossing the book into the fireplace-

Was it love, or was it lust? wondered Lola to herself as she lit a non-lightable cigarette and watched as the story of someone’s life went up in smoke!

B. stumbled into the room at that moment saying, “Gosh Lola! Look at all of these neato crystals I found outside, just glowing like the hopes of some failed blogger after a Super Moon had cursed his/her life and left him/her without a winning lottery ticket and all,….

“-but he/she didn’t have love to save the day! – like we do……Huh Lola?…..”

“Huh Lola?”

Shoeless in Soldotna

“There I was, standing there, without shoes, on my first day on the job. What would you have done?”

The others at the table downed their drinks, muttering about how these foreigners would bring only wreck and ruin to the country, when one of them asked me, “Are you certain, it was only shoes, you were lacking? Usually when I have dreams like that, I’m standing there, Buck Naked, with God and all of his Buds as my witness, when suddenly the Penguin next to me yells, “I…

“Bob would never do something like that” I added, but sensed that this was a rather hostile crowd, as bar patrons go that is.

“But why”, asked Lola, who by now was almost sitting upright in bed, where we had been, well, discussing the possibilities about…well, it actually had been my suggestion, but when she measured the distance between the bed and the…well, she just shook her head….well, it wasn’t exactly her head, that she shook, but…

“But why” asked Lola, who by now was wondering why anyone in their Right Mind would have dreamed about not wearing shoes on their first day on the job and all, but she said that, “I…

“It didn’t matter anyway, just like I told the fellows at the Peculiar Penguin Bar in Downtown Soldotna, because they made me, and of course Bob, feel welcome and all, regardless of my shoe-less appearance.”

One of the fellows nearby said, “What if it were an omen?” which caused the others to shake their heads, and wonder if it had been just another curse brought upon them by the Canadians, who were…

“Did you just put in that part about the Canadians, or are there more of your ilk on this Peninsula?” asked Lola, while she thumbed through her latest travel book, “Shoe-less Excursions in Canada”.

“I just nudged Bob, indicating that we should leave that bar before things got ugly, and especially after that fellow that spoke of an omen, with him saying, “Why, we can look it up in the Kenai Book of Wisdom! That has answers to everything under the Alaskan Winter Sun!”

“Well, that really got them riled up, what with them blowing into their Penguin Whistles and banging the tables with those longish poles that got into the most narrow of all crevices, poking and prying until they…”

Bob just stopped me saying, and rightly so, that we should wait to hear what was in that book, so we just sat there a bit more, nursing our drinks, when the fellow read the following passage, “In the wilds of the Kenai, there…

Lola was getting just a bit cold, lying there in bed wearing her sexy socks, but lacking just about anything else a warm-blooded Alaskan Male could think of! And believe you me, they can really think up a storm, if need be!

“Ahem”, he said suddenly, throwing us his steely glare in the light of the aluminum lamps, saying “In the wilds of the Kenai, there are those, who feel the need to expose their feet to the rest of the population.”

The others at the tables started making signs of the Penguin Curse, using nothing else but their…..with their……., but we don’t need all of the details, now do we?

Lola agreed. If she wanted to lie in bed only wearing her sexy socks, then it wasn’t necessary to make that common knowledge. Their house shuddered a bit, as the relentless winter storms continued to pound the outside walls, as the Penguins huddled in their pens. Bob managed to rally round them, telling them a tale of intrigue and woe, taken directly from the Kenai Book of Wisdom, under the Chapter called, “Interesting Penguin habits of the Lower Kenai….

The Penguin Whistles were just about too much to take, that’s what I thought anyway, so I and of course Bob as well, millimetered our way towards the door, when one of them stood up and yelled, “Hey You! Why didn’t you show up to your first day of work?”

The bar got quiet, deathly quiet, with all eyes focused on me, and of course Bob too.

The fellow, held in hat in his hand saying, “If you didn’t know it by now, this is a Wake in honor of the new man on the job today! We was all grieving about that poor fellow, who was on the way to work, when some big Semi-driver, most likely some foreigner from Anchorage – muttering among the men, who were starting to stand up to – Someone who run his sorry butt down, before he was to show up, and put his nose to the grindstone with the rest of us!”

“I’m telling you Lola. What with the Kenai Book of Wisdom, and the other unfortunate chain of events that day working against me, I was afraid, and of course, Bob was as well, that those fellows would…

Bob had just finished his story to the others, who all ran around the pen, tooting on their Penguin Whistles, while they-

“-and you know what the point of this story is Lola?”

Lola had fallen asleep again, not worrying about the unruly mob in someone elses dream, in some fictive bar, ostensibly located in the lovely Garden City of Soldotna!

“It seems that those Penguin Whistles only get us Humans riled up, almost like a Dog Whistle would do! Bob just turned to me as we got to the door and showed me one of those devilish things, with writing on it that said: “Made with devilish intent, by the Bob Penguin Company of Homer, Alaska……

Where in Quebec did you meet her?

Lola casually perused a map of Quebec, trying to find the word, Homer, somewhere among the other names, just in case it was there that….

“We didn’t plan it this way, Lola. It just happened. Suddenly, while I had just discovered how I had stepped in a fresh pile of Caribou Dainties, a woman passed by me, stopping to exclaim, “Is that really you?”

“Well, being me, and no one else, I felt obliged to say, “Yes it is!” and with that our long-lost relationship began anew!”

Lola turned away from him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing what she knew, now that he did know, that she knew too.

“Lola. I wouldn’t want to interrupt your thoughts at a moment like this, but you can’t really blame me, can you?”

Lola’s thoughts swirled back to the moment that they had met. She was flying along on her motorcycle, still number one in the All-Homer, Burn Rubber Championships, almost not noticing how someone had been along the side of the road, sampling Quaternary rock samples from-

-but she always had been a fool for that kind of man, hadn’t she?

Their love grew like the Lupines along the Sterling Highway, but she knew in her heart that someday, he’d leave her for other highways, and other flowers!

She followed him the next day, without him noticing her motorcycle driving ever so slowly behind his Caribou Cart, with sights set on Homer, that is Homer Alaska. He, being lost in his thoughts, never suspected that his current love, would be tailing him, while the anger rising in her chest, almost like a magma lake, seething and boiling on top of Mt Redoubt Stratovolcano, just across the Cook Inlet was getting ready to explode!

As he turned into Homer, she-

“Just what did she do, Lola?” he asked, as she put the keyboard aside, and took a sip of her Tundra Tea.

“I’m not sure, yet” she said, as she fingered her knife from the Moose is Loose Bakery in Soldotna.

“If I had known you to be so crazy-jealous, I’d never have mentioned Quebec” he said, as she used her time well, jabbing the knife into the photo of them both. Again and again….and again.

“Oh how you’d just throw those Canadians in my face, time and again, without me suspecting, that you were really lying beside her, while you lie beside me, and the three of us were “Doing It” together!” said, as she finally had obliterated his face, with the knife digging deeply into the heart of the desk.

“You’d think that some people would be sad if their wooden desk had suffered under your anger, but I’ll just save my tears for later, OK?”

-writing again- “He parked his vehicle and disappeared into a nearby Chalet appropriately called “Our Love Nest”, with her pulling in alongside his Caribou, their motor still tick tick ticking as she stopped to consider her actions. She felt the knife in her left breast pocket, throbbing wildly, which-

“-but was it her heart that was throbbing wildly, or the knife?” asked B. as he leaned just far enough over her shoulder to smell the fresh Cannabis Shampoo in her hair.

“Are you writing this Masterpiece, or am I?” asked the woman in front of him, the map of Quebec lying in tatters on the floor, and her Tundra Tea gone cold. As cold as her cold cold heart could go cold…

As she raised the knife again, in that moment of-

“I’d wait about raising that knife just yet, seeing as how you only have gotten to the 600-word mark” said by the man whose top three buttons on his shirt were revealing what too many Maple Bars from the Moose is Loose Bakery will do to a body like his!

Locked in mortal combat, while the speedy Homer Traffic Police were in the process of issuing citations, the drama inside ensued. She raised her knife triumphantly, while he stood there, together with the Travel Agent representing “Visit Quebec Before You Die” Campaign, when all of a sudden the door burst open, and-

-still munching on an Maple Bar saying “You are not honestly trying to convince me that you are planning on taking a trip to Quebec, are you?” asked L. as she wondered how much money, a parking citation costed these days, and which bureaucrat’s pocket would it be ending up in?

“Lola. Let’s save the situation, before it spirals out of our control” pleaded the man whose buttons were still undone, but whose passionate pleas rang straight and true! However, not explaining just who burst through the door, and why?

Together, hand in hand, they drove off into the sunset, just before the Parking Attendant, amazingly a young woman from Quebec, was able to issue them citations, drawing this story to a close….

“And I could really have fallen for a man, whose buttons are undone like that” she thought, as picked up the pieces of paper that once spelled out the word…….Quebec….


The Trojan Moose

And then Lola asks me, “Were the three of you drunk at the time?” I denied that vehemently, but now in retrospect, I……

“Who was supposed to cut holes in this puppy?” asked Wally as he felt his many bullet wounds sweating more than a….

Armand said, “I just love the thought of sweat glistening on a well-developed body! How ’bout you B?”

B. just loosened his collar a bit then said, “Where is the latch to the trap-door anyway?”

Wally asked again, just a bit more impatient this time, “Armand, weren’t you the one who said “I’ve got the perfect poker to aerate this Moose”

“Oh Wally” said Armand, stifling a bit of a boyish giggle “If only you knew my friend, if only you knew….”

B. listened intently then said, “Shh you two. There are strange sounds coming from outside this Moose!”

Everyone listened, while the beads of sweat began rolling towards the….

“Sweating more than a what?” asked B. who wondered whose idea it was in the first place, building a Trojan Moose to….

Wally replied, “Well you might say something like “sweating more than an overheated Canadian Woman in Montreal in the summer, but then not all of us think like that, do we?”

Armand just sighed a bit then said, “If only he had said an overheated Alaskan Man in Homer, that is in Homer Alaska, in the summer, then I might have said….!”

-movement heard outside, scratching noises, then the sounds of a rifle being cocked-

“Well, well, well” said someone, whose voice sounded so near, yet so so far.

“Maybe they were just admiring the fine craftsmanship, then have decided to go on their way, wherever that is, or uh, was?” said Wally, who didn’t feel up to being shot, while in a dark, rather uncomfortable, and especially warm Trojan Moose, which they constructed to, to….

“Why did we built this Gosh-Darned-Beast in the first-place?” whispered Wally, as B. frantically tugged and fiddled with the latch, separating them from the thought of escape, or the solitude of being filled full of holes and then….

-back in Homer Alaska, the three of them are seen, sitting at their usual places in Bent’s Bar, The Bent Antler, discussing why it was a good idea to build their own Trojan Moose-

Armand swirled the Chablis around in his glass, before saying, “Roy must most assuredly fall to our advances, when we…..

Wally just looked up from the local Rag, “The Homer Happening” saying, “We don’t need to get into Roy, but Troy!”

Armand disagreed, “Roy, Troy what’s the difference, as long as there is room enough, then I say, The more the Merrier!”

-just then Lola entered the Bar wearing a snappy ensemble, complete with her classic 30-30 Winchester, which would make usual crowd send out wolf-whistles, if it hadn’t been her, that is!

“Well, well, well” said Lola eyeing them suspiciously, while their gaze wafted off into a neutral corner, and waited for a new opportunity to…

“Gosh Lola. What a delight it is to see you here, in Homer…. Alaska” said B, “where the rest of us, That is Wally” – standing up and bowing – “and Armand”, who still was dreaming about getting into Roy,

-while Lola said,”Up to no good, or….?”

“No. Just shooting the breeze, that’s all” said B. who looked towards the back of the Bar where…..

“Well” said Lola slowly. “I’ll just be on my way then” and with that said, she, well she….

“Some people just can’t finish a simple paragraph, can they now?” asked Bent, who just stared at the last group of unfinished sentences, while B. yelled, “Out back, now that she’s gone!” with them all, in one big flock, exited the room….

“Today, Homer Alaska” said B. solemnly “Tomorrow…..Soldotna!”

-muffled yells and the toasting of Chablis Glasses heard in the background, while the three of them climbed into the Trojan Moose and closed the trap-door behind them!

Wally whispered to B., before their plan was complete, “and you didn’t even say Alaska after Soldotna…..!”

B. just stared into the darkness before saying, “Uh. Wasn’t there more to this plan, than just building the Moose, and being inside of it?”

Armand answered, “Well, Bent offered to pull us on his trailer hitch and leave us in the middle of town, but we might have forgotten to tell him that the time was “Now!”

Lola just stood outside the Moose, resting her rifle against the building, while eyeing the two stones, wedged under the back wheels, keeping “Moosey” from rolling down the nearby hill in the direction of Homer Spit.

“Well, well, well” said someone, whose voice sounded so near, yet so so far, just before saying “Oops” then “accidentally” dislodging the stones, causing the Geeks in the Moose to yell out, “Hey. It’s almost as if we are moving….?”

Moosey rolled down the hill and out of sight, while Armand was heard to yell,

“Don’t worry Roy, we are on our way, and Boy do we have a surprise for you….!”