Poetry: What it means is more important
than how it’s dressed up.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
Heh, Heh, Heh
L aura was breathing harder now, her head resting against George’s shoulder as they sat in his pickup truck at the drive-in movie. It was a long movie and she had been up since the crack of dawn. She was asleep.
"Looks like you managed to cut off our only escape route,” Princess Leia tongue-lashed the handsomely handsome Han Solo.
“Maybe you’d like it back in your cell, your highness!” Han rhetoricated mockingly.
“Aaugh!” Laura screamed, awakening to the sound of laser fire pontooning from the small metal speaker box hooked on the passenger side window.
“Laura, what’s wrong?”
“Oh George, I just had the most frightening dream of my life. I dreamed you were president and I was First Lady and a band of bearded evildoers blew up New York City!”
“Heh, heh, heh,” George spontaneously chuckled, draining his fourth Budweiser. “Heh, heh, heh. That’ll be the day.”
~ Story & photo morph by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
# 118:
Stubbing your toe is God’s way of
testing your vocabulary.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
testing your vocabulary.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
Youth Has An Expiration Date
It is somewhat amusing to older folks to hear pop song lyrics and see pop song videos in which handsome young men worship at the altar of beautiful young women. Oh those words of eternal passion, pledged by the young. How quickly terms and conditions come into play as familiarity grows, as obligations mount, as the marriage ties that bind, bind.
And what of the aging process, that chronological decay of flesh that robs us all of youth’s bounty? Can you visualize a wrinkled old man and woman in a pop song video, singing:
Almost paradise
We're knockin' on heaven's door
Almost paradise
How could we ask for more?
I swear that I can see forever in your eyes
Paradise*
 |
| Herman, Marjorie & Bess Allison ~ Redondo Beach, California 1917 |
No, me either. Youth passes, passion passes and we move on. Yet I remember spending the night at my grandparents’ house many years ago when they were in their seventies. I woke up early the next morning and peeked into their bedroom to see if they were still sleeping. I just happened to see them waking up. My old, wrinkled grandfather gave my old, wrinkled grandmother a kiss and said “Good morning.”
Almost paradise.
*From the song “Almost Paradise” written by Eric Carmen and Dean Pitchford
~ by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
Leaving Home
It's not the holding of his hand,
but the pulling of his arm that makes a boy leave home.
~ Words and photograph by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
Brush Your Teeth!
Brush your teeth
Good and well
Cause if you don’t
You’ll burn in hell.
~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Photo by Cathy Keifer
© All Rights Reserved
Easter Brunch
"The buffet was satisfactory,
~ Text & Jesus insertion by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
but the valet service was just dreadful!”
~ Text & Jesus insertion by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
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