No longer constipated, my Christmas opened with a roar. I was dizzy, the electrolytes off, my heart pounding, sick stomach. "Every time I get worried," Mark said, "I get constipated. I think and think, nervous I guess, tighten up, dunno, something, but I get constipated."
You know, it makes sense; follow this through. Everyone must look at themself, look within, analyse what went right and what is going wrong with the day, the week, the life. But you have to keep moving. You can't think too much, or you'll stop. You'll become full of sh-t. A natural truth, a natural law.
I was thinking modern man needed a package opening blade, but the Sarge knife I recieved as a gift works just fine. The toys are not only wired to the cardboard backing, but now have plastic tabs also heavily taped on the other side.
"Who the hell were they expecting to open these packages?" I looked around the room. Only Carter, the loyalist, was here. "You can't shop-lift this Rescue Hero, he's wired into the frame of the package. What were they expecting??!!"
"An Army," Carter said.
"Yes." I nodded, "Good one. An army to tear through these toys...but why?"
I had the wireclippers. The Sarge knife, and a phillips head screw driver, the little one. Soon, you'll have to use the micro version- we've had a few samples. These toy packages and fasteners are becoming specialized.
When I was a kid we waited while each of us unwrapped the package before taking the next turn. Christmas took about 3 hours. We never lost anything, though.
She grew up under consume and toss, so the kids were piling through. Trav dumped all the peices to a complex robot in a single box, no longer sorted in the tiny plastic bags. He wants someone to help him assemble it, too. I volunteered Carter.
We ate dinner. It was good. The rolls were burned a little again, but not too bad. The ham was dry. That's why God gave us spit, I told them. Keith wanted to say the Blessing. We waited. You really had to close your eyes too, or he'd catch you and start all over again.
"Thanks for everything," he told God, "Amen."
We began to eat and after a few moments Trav started repeating what everyone said. AFfer a while, when I realized it was Trav, and not my own internal dialogue, I told him to please be quiet. I told him we wanted to hear the wonderful orginal things he had to say.
"Wonderful things you had to say," He said. He kept it up, a little happy echo. I finally rose from the chair; it was time to enforce what I'd instructed.
"No, no, I don't wanna leave," he said, tears now in his eyes, "I wanted the Dinosaur game and you gave it to Keith, I told you I wanted it."
He never did, or, if he had, it went along with every last toy in the known universe he'd also said to give him. The list was huge, and Santa had stopped writing back a long time ago.
"Look, you know the Rescue Heros Keith wanted and you got?"
"And the Xbox game, don't forget that," Carter chimed in.
"Well, it usually happens that someone likes someonelse's gift. That's OK. You have a birthday coming up."
"Yes?"
"If you want one you can have one."
"Just be sure what you really want," his mother said.
So everything was fine. Then came the time to assemble the train.
The baby got two trains. One was too cute, faces on the engines, and he'd left that and was fighting Trav for the Rescue Heros. To my surprise, my wife volunteered to put the other one together. I watched her for a few minutes.
"Don't force anything, and don't break it. Call me if you need me."
I was in the next room putting the gear on a Power Ranger. No one could do it, so it'd finally ended up on my desk. I couldn't do it either. A lot of time went by and I looked down and saw my wife had put a few tracks together. That was it.
I'd just found the picture of the Power Ranger and was going to finish him off.
"Bring that up here," I said, "I'll help."
We carried it up and she started putting more track together. It didn't look anything like the photo on the box.
"Where are the instructions?"
"There are no instructions."
"What do you mean, aren't any; there's always instructions."
"I don't think it came with them, really, you just go by the box."
So we worked on it. We were close, almost together, but something wasn't snapping right. The Engine would crash every time, I knew.
"We must have the instructions. Devote some of your effort towards finding them."
"You sound just like your Dad." She told me as she walked into the other room. She came back a moment later with the instructions.
OK. I got it together, one peice left over. I'm not kidding. But anyway, there was no Engine with a real motor. Our Engine was an empty shell.
"Where's the other car? There must be another car." We started looking. It was not to be found. Carter joined. Keith led me up and down a few stair flights looking. We checked under Trav's bed. Then under everyone's bed.
A lot of time passed. My wife bailed.
"I'm out of here and taking a walk."
Geeze. They desert. She probably lost the Engine. Why was the box open? Who opened the box anyway? Small kids and small parts spread all over the house. That wouldn't happen in my Father's home. No way. He was a Quality Assurance Engineer and you can bet we opened packages in an orderly manner. I was sweating, I was mad. Did anyone even see the engine? Maybe it didn't exist.
"Yeah, it was green I think, green, but I only saw it for a few seconds." Carter told me. I drilled all of them. Nothing was learned. My wife came back home and proceeded to read the Bible in her bedroom. She was at peace. This was the Lord's day, and all I could think of now was the damned Choo- Choo train engine. Pretty soon I began to doubt Carter. "Are you sure, are you sure?" I felt maybe I'd seen it too, but only for a few seconds, just like Carter said. That was the way it was. It was there for a few seconds, and now it was gone. I'd call the manufacturer, I'd order a new Engine. Damn the cost. I could hear my wife. The engine would turn up, she'd say, but too late, I've ordered another. "We can always use two," I'd tell her.
Two hours had gone by. I washed the dishes by hand and thought of Crumb's Mr Natural, how when he did the dishes life fell into place, it was OK, and Zen stuff would lead you to tranquility.
How come no one knew anything? Why was it all so insubstancial? It reminded me of college days when everybody in the hall dropped acid, and no one knew nothing, Sam, Man, I saw him down the hall, ask Rick, he might know....they were smiling like they were watching TV and rafting down a river at the same time....no one knew nothing and you had to just kinda push your way through the current in order to even take a leak or find the bathroom or eat...
"When was the last time you saw it?" I asked her. She looked at me and thought for a moment.
"By the little couch, everything was by the little couch."
I'd already picked up that couch and looked underneath. I'd probed behind the cushions. It wasn't on the couch, but there were a few scraps of cardboard laying there. I'd searched all the boxes and wrappers we'd thrown away in the Garage.
And there, strapped to the cardboard out of fear a shoplifter would whisk it away, was the little Engine.
So I opened it up and found out it needed triple A batteries. But that's cool, we'll get those tomorow from the little store. I felt better now. The kid's voices had changed also- they were happy, there was no more fighting, tense discourse, angry rebuttals. They were actually down in the basement making happy noises.
They'd achieved peace far sooner than I. I showered and put some things away and Christmas was alright. The Old Man called; he'd bought a car on a whim. He never had whims. It was the hybrid thing- electric and gas.
"Well, you researched it long enough. You might was well play with something. That'll give you something to do."
And he was happy on the phone. Happy. All over the world there are people happy, and hopefully not too many of them still looking for lost trains.
munk
You know, it makes sense; follow this through. Everyone must look at themself, look within, analyse what went right and what is going wrong with the day, the week, the life. But you have to keep moving. You can't think too much, or you'll stop. You'll become full of sh-t. A natural truth, a natural law.
I was thinking modern man needed a package opening blade, but the Sarge knife I recieved as a gift works just fine. The toys are not only wired to the cardboard backing, but now have plastic tabs also heavily taped on the other side.
"Who the hell were they expecting to open these packages?" I looked around the room. Only Carter, the loyalist, was here. "You can't shop-lift this Rescue Hero, he's wired into the frame of the package. What were they expecting??!!"
"An Army," Carter said.
"Yes." I nodded, "Good one. An army to tear through these toys...but why?"
I had the wireclippers. The Sarge knife, and a phillips head screw driver, the little one. Soon, you'll have to use the micro version- we've had a few samples. These toy packages and fasteners are becoming specialized.
When I was a kid we waited while each of us unwrapped the package before taking the next turn. Christmas took about 3 hours. We never lost anything, though.
She grew up under consume and toss, so the kids were piling through. Trav dumped all the peices to a complex robot in a single box, no longer sorted in the tiny plastic bags. He wants someone to help him assemble it, too. I volunteered Carter.
We ate dinner. It was good. The rolls were burned a little again, but not too bad. The ham was dry. That's why God gave us spit, I told them. Keith wanted to say the Blessing. We waited. You really had to close your eyes too, or he'd catch you and start all over again.
"Thanks for everything," he told God, "Amen."
We began to eat and after a few moments Trav started repeating what everyone said. AFfer a while, when I realized it was Trav, and not my own internal dialogue, I told him to please be quiet. I told him we wanted to hear the wonderful orginal things he had to say.
"Wonderful things you had to say," He said. He kept it up, a little happy echo. I finally rose from the chair; it was time to enforce what I'd instructed.
"No, no, I don't wanna leave," he said, tears now in his eyes, "I wanted the Dinosaur game and you gave it to Keith, I told you I wanted it."
He never did, or, if he had, it went along with every last toy in the known universe he'd also said to give him. The list was huge, and Santa had stopped writing back a long time ago.
"Look, you know the Rescue Heros Keith wanted and you got?"
"And the Xbox game, don't forget that," Carter chimed in.
"Well, it usually happens that someone likes someonelse's gift. That's OK. You have a birthday coming up."
"Yes?"
"If you want one you can have one."
"Just be sure what you really want," his mother said.
So everything was fine. Then came the time to assemble the train.
The baby got two trains. One was too cute, faces on the engines, and he'd left that and was fighting Trav for the Rescue Heros. To my surprise, my wife volunteered to put the other one together. I watched her for a few minutes.
"Don't force anything, and don't break it. Call me if you need me."
I was in the next room putting the gear on a Power Ranger. No one could do it, so it'd finally ended up on my desk. I couldn't do it either. A lot of time went by and I looked down and saw my wife had put a few tracks together. That was it.
I'd just found the picture of the Power Ranger and was going to finish him off.
"Bring that up here," I said, "I'll help."
We carried it up and she started putting more track together. It didn't look anything like the photo on the box.
"Where are the instructions?"
"There are no instructions."
"What do you mean, aren't any; there's always instructions."
"I don't think it came with them, really, you just go by the box."
So we worked on it. We were close, almost together, but something wasn't snapping right. The Engine would crash every time, I knew.
"We must have the instructions. Devote some of your effort towards finding them."
"You sound just like your Dad." She told me as she walked into the other room. She came back a moment later with the instructions.
OK. I got it together, one peice left over. I'm not kidding. But anyway, there was no Engine with a real motor. Our Engine was an empty shell.
"Where's the other car? There must be another car." We started looking. It was not to be found. Carter joined. Keith led me up and down a few stair flights looking. We checked under Trav's bed. Then under everyone's bed.
A lot of time passed. My wife bailed.
"I'm out of here and taking a walk."
Geeze. They desert. She probably lost the Engine. Why was the box open? Who opened the box anyway? Small kids and small parts spread all over the house. That wouldn't happen in my Father's home. No way. He was a Quality Assurance Engineer and you can bet we opened packages in an orderly manner. I was sweating, I was mad. Did anyone even see the engine? Maybe it didn't exist.
"Yeah, it was green I think, green, but I only saw it for a few seconds." Carter told me. I drilled all of them. Nothing was learned. My wife came back home and proceeded to read the Bible in her bedroom. She was at peace. This was the Lord's day, and all I could think of now was the damned Choo- Choo train engine. Pretty soon I began to doubt Carter. "Are you sure, are you sure?" I felt maybe I'd seen it too, but only for a few seconds, just like Carter said. That was the way it was. It was there for a few seconds, and now it was gone. I'd call the manufacturer, I'd order a new Engine. Damn the cost. I could hear my wife. The engine would turn up, she'd say, but too late, I've ordered another. "We can always use two," I'd tell her.
Two hours had gone by. I washed the dishes by hand and thought of Crumb's Mr Natural, how when he did the dishes life fell into place, it was OK, and Zen stuff would lead you to tranquility.
How come no one knew anything? Why was it all so insubstancial? It reminded me of college days when everybody in the hall dropped acid, and no one knew nothing, Sam, Man, I saw him down the hall, ask Rick, he might know....they were smiling like they were watching TV and rafting down a river at the same time....no one knew nothing and you had to just kinda push your way through the current in order to even take a leak or find the bathroom or eat...
"When was the last time you saw it?" I asked her. She looked at me and thought for a moment.
"By the little couch, everything was by the little couch."
I'd already picked up that couch and looked underneath. I'd probed behind the cushions. It wasn't on the couch, but there were a few scraps of cardboard laying there. I'd searched all the boxes and wrappers we'd thrown away in the Garage.
And there, strapped to the cardboard out of fear a shoplifter would whisk it away, was the little Engine.
So I opened it up and found out it needed triple A batteries. But that's cool, we'll get those tomorow from the little store. I felt better now. The kid's voices had changed also- they were happy, there was no more fighting, tense discourse, angry rebuttals. They were actually down in the basement making happy noises.
They'd achieved peace far sooner than I. I showered and put some things away and Christmas was alright. The Old Man called; he'd bought a car on a whim. He never had whims. It was the hybrid thing- electric and gas.
"Well, you researched it long enough. You might was well play with something. That'll give you something to do."
And he was happy on the phone. Happy. All over the world there are people happy, and hopefully not too many of them still looking for lost trains.
munk
