The Jittery Goat

June 19, 2013 · 7:02 am

Blogging Is Like A Flea Market

Daily Prompt: Tagline

Often, our blogs have taglines. But what if humans did, too? What would your tagline be?

Maybe it’s just me (and it usually is), but isn’t blogging like going to a flea market and setting up your own booth.

At first you don’t know exactly how you fit in or if you have the right product for the flea market crowd. Soon you realize that all kinds of people come to flea markets. After a while others begin to accept you and before long you are on the circuit.

The items you bring to the flea market are a specialty that maybe doesn’t attract a lot of buyers. You search around and find out what others bring and what customers buy. You make adjustments, but with your own twists. Your specialty items are always tucked away just waiting for that special customer.

I went to a flea market and became intrigued with an old man was showing his granddaughter how to sell the products. He didn’t know I was listening, but he was passing on information that would help that young lady make a go of things.

“Have a story for everything. That way they are buying not only the item, but a story or memory with it. Let me show you.”

A customer came to his booth and looked at a sewing basket.

“I bought that for my wife about two years before she passed. She carried that thing everywhere. A woman needs something like that around the house. Ah, you should have seen her, just as cute as could be. It’s like a man with his favorite tool box.”

He sold it – for twice what it was worth. He got paid more for his stories than I do.

That old man’s tag line might read, “You’re not only buying an item your buying the story with it.” (Sure he sold junk, but the stories and effort were priceless.)

“Maybe It’s Just Me…”

Blogs are flea markets. Sometimes you spin a little yarn to sell what you’re really up to.

The point made is that everybody has their niche. I have always seen things a bit differently. What that means is that I’m not often right. I have often used this phrase, “Maybe it’s just me and it usually is.” It is a phrase born out of honest reflection and frustration. That would be my tag line.

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Tagged as advertising, blogging, business, flea market, humor, marketing, stories, tagline, writing

June 18, 2013 · 7:33 am

Fear Of Books (short fiction)

Arthur overcame his fear of books and heights.

Daily Prompt: Might As Well Jump

What’s the biggest risk you’d like to take — but haven’t been able to? What would have to happen to make you comfortable taking it?

Arthur had been under the care of a psychologist, Dr. Benjamin Gordon for five years. Arthur was afraid of everything; people, bugs, dogs, cats, water, moving vehicles, and so on but his greatest fears were heights and flying.

He could not even watch a program or movie that had a scene inside an airplane.

He lived a tortured existence.

Under the care of Dr. Gordon Arthur was now enrolled at a local college. Dr. Gordon was able to treat his fear of books. Dr. Gordon told him that as long as he had books that they would help him overcome his fears. And it seemed to work. Everyplace Arthur went he carried his text books in his backpack. He visited parks, coffee shops, and was using public transportation rather than walking. He was now going to parks where people often brought their pets.

His progress was remarkable. Dr. Gordon was even preparing a paper on Arthur’s progress and was involved in a serious conversation with a publisher to write a book about his methods of overcoming fears and using Arthur’s story as the premise.

The day arrived for the culmination of Dr. Gordon’s work with Arthur. Arthur was about to parachute from a plane.

Dr. Gordon was an experienced parachutist and testified to Arthur that parachuting was essential to overcome many of his own phobias.

“If you do this one single act there is nothing for you to ever fear again. You will be a free man,” Dr. Gordon told Arthur sitting next to him on the small plane as it ascended.

Arthur was quite nervous. He patted his books in the backpack and smiled nervously at Dr. Gordon for assurance and courage.

The plane climbed for a few minutes. Arthur’s mouth was dry. Dr. Gordon continually assured him about the safety of parachuting and having confidence in his equipment and above all himself. “It’s safer than walking down a flight of stairs,” Dr. Gordon assured.

“We’re at four thousand feet,” the pilot said through the cockpit door. “Anytime you’re ready.”

“I can’t do this,” Arthur said.

“Sure you can,” Dr. Gordon said. “You’ve come too far to turn back now. You can do it!”

“I have to do it without thinking about it,” Arthur said. “Just go automatically through the motions as if I’ve done it all my life. It’s all second nature. No fear because I’ve done it before. Right Dr. Gordon? Just the way you told me.”

“That’s the spirit,” Dr. Gordon said. “You’ve got it!”

As Dr. Gordon moved forward to the cockpit to make certain of the drop zone Arthur quickly suited-up for the jump.

Dr. Gordon returned to find Arthur standing at the door of the plane with both hands firmly gripping the sides. At last he was about to face and overcome his fears.

Arthur looked at the miniature faraway world below and gulped.

“Do it Arthur!” Dr. Gordon said. “Free yourself.”

Arthur had a fearful smile. “Give me a nudge.”

“Just count to five and pull,“ Dr. Gordon said.

Arthur grabbed for his ripcord. It was the most freighting look ever seen on a man’s face. It was twisted in fear and doubt. Arthur tried to take a breath.

Dr. Gordon shoved Arthur.

Arthur tumbled from the plane. Dr. Gordon smiled and mumbled, “You have done it lad, you have done it.”

Dr. Gordon was pleased. He looked over at the Arthur’s empty seat and smiled. “He even did it without taking his books with him, such progress.” Dr. Gordon’s eyes widened. “That’s his parachute! He strapped on his backpack full of books!”

Dr. Gordon sat. He thought, ‘The books were always a crutch. I wonder if they helped this time? I see now why he had a fear of books; they are of little use when falling from a plane.’

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Tagged as fear, fiction, humor, overcoming fear, parachuting, psychology, short fiction, short story

June 17, 2013 · 7:10 am

A Letter To An Indecisive Employee

Daily Prompt: Shape Up or Ship Out

Write a letter to the personality trait you like least, convincing it to shape up or ship out. Be as threatening, theatrical, or thoroughly charming as is necessary to get the job done.

Dear Evan A. Klue

Recently it has become apparent we must talk face to face. We must come to grips with a recurring and persistent problem.

I have an openings on Tuesday at 3:00 PM, Wednesday 9:15 AM, or Friday at 11:45 AM. I’ll leave the time up to you.

The subject matter is your ability or should I say your lack of ability to stick with a project and decisions you make. It is creating frustration among the team and I’ve come across several complaints not only from them but also our customers.

Last quarter we set a goal of 10% over the same previous quarter from last year or it may have been our best quarter we wanted to top. Either way, a week later I sent out a memo that reevaluated that figure to 7.7 % because I failed to factor-in our down-sizing. After considering the new project we were handed by corporate I found it necessary to again adjust downward our projection to 5.5%. You came in at the end of the quarter with a 6.1% increase, far below my last 12% memo. The increase was due to a carry-over from the previous quarter.

As you can easily see your performance drug our team effort down.

This may sound petty, but I think this characterizes the frustration I am experiencing with you. The first of the year corporate allocated funds for me to take my team out for lunch. I told the team they could order anything they wanted. If you recall you ordered fresh scallops. They were out of season. You than ordered the lobster tail and filet mignon. That took us over budget. I suggested the fajitas, but reminded you that may cause gas. I offered the onion burger platter, but also informed you about the big meeting in the afternoon with our best client; it would not be appropriate to have onion on your breath. At the last-minute you settled on pea soup. Your inability to stick to something is causing an uproar even in social settings.

I hope we can come to an understanding. This is not the way we do things at Decision Consultants Inc.

Very truly yours,

N. D. “Cy” Sevness

PS. Just got a note about the Friday appointment. That’s off the board; I got racquetball with Steve in accounting or golf with Curt in research. On second thought, let’s shoot for the week of the 22^nd instead.

PSS. Why not handle it this way; just work on it.

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Tagged as daily prompt, decision making, employee, employers, humor, indecisive, letter, make up you mind

· 5:44 am

Peppermint Patti – Cool And Refreshing

Nick Patti, ready to be great.

Everyone is waiting for the Nick Patti era to begin. Where he actually stands in his development as a Division 1 quarterback only real game experience will tell. He has yet to take a college snap.

Although at this stage of his development he has earned the respect of his teammates being named Scout Team Player of the Year last year. That is a big one. That’s where he stands with one of the most successful college football programs in the nation.

Many said that he would replace Southwick last year when the Boise State offense was sputtering. I have no idea where anybody got the information that he was somehow better than Southwick. He was virtually unproven.

Many now figure he is the heir apparent to the Boise State football legacy.

Make no mistake about it, this guy is a great player. He has football instincts and leadership aptitude. He throws a really good ball, I mean really good ball. In addition he runs well. He’s crafty and slippery. He has everything it takes to be great in Division 1. He reminds me of Russell Wilson, but throws better.

While in high school he was considered one of the nations top high school quarterbacks.

He is the kind of quarterback that when the going gets tough he pulls off miracles.

He’s 5’10”. So what! I don’t think that means didly squat. That means the defense can’t read his eyes or find him. That means he ducks under the arms of 6’5” defensive linemen. That means he’s been called undersize most of his life and has chip on his shoulder – right where you want it.

He has under 4.6 speed. Not a blazer, but enough to outrun seven or eight guys on the other side of the ball. He is not afraid to take a hit or give one. It looks like he wants to punish anyone who tries to put him down. I see a lot of Tylenol in his future.

Enough was not seen of him in the Spring game to indicate anything. He left the game in the first half with an shoulder injury.

Will the four months from Spring to Fall drills mature him enough to take over the starting position? We can only be assured of one thing, the best man will be behind the center come August 31^st.

At this point the indication is that there is a real struggle for the back-up position at quarterback with Grant Hedrick.

Nick Patti is like an uninvited guest – in a good way. He shows up you let him in. You soon find out he’s the life of the party. In fact, without him there would be no party. Soon you realize you’re glad you let him in. You don’t want him to leave. He moves in with you and the next thing you know you’re kids are calling him Daddy Nick. When the kids ask you to do something you tell them, “Go ask Daddy Nick.“ Once Patti gets in the game it’s going to be hard to imagine him with headsets and on the sidelines ever again.

Not this Peppermint Patty.

Now go out and buy a York’s Peppermint Patty. Take a bite. Remember that burst of mint the first time Nick Patti trots onto the blue turf.

I’m buying a bag of those little Peppermint Patties and every time he tosses a touch down I’m having one; beer or not.

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Tagged as Boise, boise state football, Bosie State, Broncos, BSU, football, Nick Patti, quarterback

June 16, 2013 · 7:18 am

“North by Northwestern;” Reality Without The Drama

The Hansen brothers and the Northwestern.

Daily Prompt: Bookworm

Tell us about the last book you read (Why did you choose it? Would you recommend it?). To go further, write a post based on its subject matter.

Reality shows are about drama; drama over what is petty. They are a short course in bad manners, poor social skills, and lack of civility. It’s difficult for me to conceive anyone I know who would be upset that my nose job was medical or cosmetic.

A few years ago the hosts of a well known talk show were in a snit because one of the co-hosts had a surgical procedure to lose weight and did not inform them. “They felt betrayed,” because she kept the procedure a secret. (I can’t believe I’m writing about it.)

Just before the discussion about the ‘betrayal’ they were discussing national and world issues that actually guide the thinking of millions. Frankly, it is the audience who is betrayed – well maybe not. They may deserve each other.

Yet, I have to admit there is one reality program I really like and seldom miss; Deadliest Catch. Likely it is because I am a man. There is little doubt that there are ‘staged’ events, but not incredulous. You are not going to see an episode where two crab boat captains show up at the local watering hole wearing the same boots and a hissy fit ensues. Your will not see the season finale sit-down episode with Mike Rowe asking, “Junior, what were you thinking going into a bar with the same boots as Wild Bill?”

The program, to me, is the men, the boats, the sea, and the hard work.

My son sent the book North by Northwestern. It was the story of the Hansen family who own the Northwestern crab boat. It’s not a riveting book. It’s just a story of a hard working family. Their idea of higher education is a trade school. Love and passion, not emotions rule their lives. Loyalty is more than a word.

Their lives are not a show down with lawyers and publicists. It is with the sea and death or at the least injury. There is no room for hypocrisy in their world. The sea is exact. It is like invading any enemy’s land to find food for your family and escaping before he is aware. If you are caught, you are executed – period. Yet the Hansen family deal with it as if having the tires rotated or the furnace filter changed.

That’s not the last book I read, but it is the one that left me thinking the most.

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June 15, 2013 · 7:06 am

Forever Rain (short fiction)

Daily Prompt: Singin’ in the Rain

Safe inside, toasty warm, while water pitter-patters on the roof… describe your perfect, rainy afternoon.

She knitted. I read. Two Queen Ann chairs faced the window separated by an end table with two cups of coffee. Beyond the window, rain as far as the imagination could carry.

It was a Fall rain. It sprinkled on the deck overlooking the small lake that lapped against its pilings. The gray sky did little to dull the brightness of the maples bordering the shores, red and yellow like a blazing fire. The rain was steady as a heart beat with little to no variation; small drops like the tears of God and angels endlessly splashing on the deck, lake, and roof. The sound was like an endless draw on a chorus of violins.

Behind us the crackle of a low fire in a stone fireplace, just enough to chase away the chill and dampness.

“How long did the weatherman say it was going to rain?” she said.

“Forever,” I said.

“They are getting more accurate at weather these days,” she said.

“I hope so,” I said.

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June 14, 2013 · 6:30 am

My First Search For God

Daily Prompt: In Good Faith

Describe a memory or encounter in which you considered your faith, religion, spirituality — or lack of — for the first time.

What follows is an excerpt from my novel The Summer or ‘62. The excerpt is autobiographical.

I was alone. I didn’t know for how long, but I think it was for some time. I went back to my room and leafed through volume ‘S’ of the World Book Encyclopedia. I was nearing the end of my quest to read the entire set of encyclopedias. I read about Spain. There was an aerial picture of a bull fighting arena in Cadiz. I imagined walking the streets of Cadiz. I heard music and polite people greeting me. That is where my royal Spanish parents lived who lost me at birth and I was taken to the United States by anti-Franco sympathizers for safety sake. I was not Rich Larson, but Juan Gomez. My room began to warm from the sun and no breeze was coming through the window. I decided to go to a place that was always cool and refreshing, a place to relax and dream – the meadow.

The meadow was a mile from our farm. About a hundred sheep grazed there in serenity. It was bordered on the west by interstate seventy-five, on the south by old state route twenty-five, to the north by State Road, and to the south by a farm. The meadow was sixty acres of low laying pasture good only for grazing. A stream split the meadow in half. Two creeks converged just before old state route twenty-five to form one and then passed under a bridge and into the meadow. The water moves fast until mid summer, then it slows to a trickle. The stream pours over rocks and lazily winds through the meadow. Two willows about a third of the way into the meadow forms an arch over the steam. It was cool there. It was a place where troubles are discharged and diluted into the waters and carried into a river and far away. Beneath the willows was shade. I once stayed there to shelter myself from the rain. One time I lay there and went to sleep. The willow branches hung so low they were like a drape that hid you from the rest of the world. On the hottest day it was cool beneath its shade. The sheep kept the grass trim like a manicured lawn of a royal estate. I thought of it as a kingdom and I the sovereign. I was a good king and it was a model land. There was not one inch of that meadow that needed change or improvement. It was perfect. Sheep have a way of gracing the landscape, they give it balance, completeness, and an acuity of security. Sheep can’t dwell in danger.

Beneath the willow I lay with my head resting against the trunk musing the activities of the previous evening. A cool breeze excited the small willow leaves and they shimmered and tinkled like tiny wind chimes. Flowing water from the stream splattered and trickled over smooth speckled rocks near my feet. A twig navigated the small rapids and floated hurriedly away until it lodged against a small patch of grass that stood alone like an island in the middle stream. In the distance was the occasional soothing bleat of gentle restful sheep. How will my Dad redeem himself? Will it be kind words? Will it be a gift? Never with an apology – never. Suddenly it came to me, two men in my life, one with the inability to say “Thank you” and the other with the inability to say “I’m sorry.” If I come to be known for any extraordinary measure in my life it will be for nothing if I am not known for saying “Thank you” and “I’m sorry.” But what about now? A cord has been severed – a sacred trust broken. How can I make sense of the dichotomy of thought in my mind. I know the man really loves me, but how can he act in such a shameful and repulsive manner? Is it evil? Even evil men have a huge capacity for compassion and love. Is it insanity? If so it can’t be helped, it is a disease of the mind. One thing is for certain, it is not normal. It is destructive. Why can’t he see what he is doing to Mom and me and change or just go away? I looked up through the maze of branches and caught an occasional peek of the sky as the breezes parted the tiny slivers of willow leaves. Clouds hypnotically floated by to places beyond the horizon. Can God see me? Is he looking down as I am looking up? Does he see my pain and sorrow.

“Dear God please help me,” I muttered and fell asleep.

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June 13, 2013 · 7:18 am

The Person of the Year; And It Ain’t You

Time Magazine’s 1938 Person of the Year. Likely nominated by Joseph Goebbels, but I want to know who voted for him?

Daily Prompt: Person of the Year

You’re asked to nominate someone for TIME’s Person of the Year. Who would it be, and why?

Time Magazine’s Person of the Year was born out of a time when people, in general, were gullible to think that such a designation meant something.

The designation today assumes people care. It really only indicates how out of touch with reality Time is with the world and the public.

A quick survey of past Person’s of the Year show a bias against women: only four woman and one of them was Wallis Simpson. I know, Wallis who?

Some were truly evil and despotic people; Hitler, Khrushchev, and Stalin. Stalin was so good they named him twice. Two were Presidents who disgraced the office, Nixon and Clinton. One was nominated and named for doing nothing other than winning an election; Obama. One was a general who was likely responsible for the death of hundreds of thousands while losing a war; Westmoreland. This is just a sampling. With the exception of a few, those selected were responsible for much bad, yet selected on the basis that, at least, the good outweighed the bad.

The whole Person of the Year thing is like the cutest couple contest in high school; give them another twenty years they’ll be fat, ugly, miserable, and nobody will be able to recognize them. It’s all high-school-Harry stuff.

I suppose to play along with this silly exercise I should nominate somebody. It’s a guy or a gal who gets up every morning, goes to work, and comes home. They pay their taxes, mow their lawns, feeds the birds, smiles at strangers, reads to their kids, pays their bills, charitable, kind, compassionate, doesn’t blast their stereo, looks out for their neighbor, doesn’t take what is not theirs, never marched in protest, obeys the laws, bathes frequently, doesn’t do anything to their body that nature or God had not intended, bends over to pick up litter, and doesn‘t think they‘re the center of the universe.

That leaves just me and you and you can’t vote, so there!

Just joking; my wife, my kids, my friends.

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Tagged as humor, Person of the Year, Time Magazine

June 12, 2013 · 7:18 am

Take The Power And Shove It

There is definitely a gender bias here. There ought to be a law.

Daily Prompt: You’ve Got the Power

You have the power to enact a single law. What would it be?

If you’ve come here to read about the one law that will make everyone love each other and get along, you may as well go someplace else.

This Daily Prompt likely comes from the expression after some aggravating circumstance, “There oughta be a law.”

Usually we have been personally inconvenienced. Enough people are personally inconvenienced and they get together. They frame a law and pass a law that benefits them, but harms, infringes, or impinges on the rights of others. Those people then do the same thing. Now you have dueling laws instead of banjos.

No, I’m not falling for this one, there are already plenty of laws. You’ve probably heard the expression locks are made to keep honest people out. Well, laws are made to restrict the rights of good people. Sure there are good laws. I don’t argue that, like 20 MPH in a school zone.

At one time abortions were illegal. It was a reflection of how a society, at large, viewed life and the potential of a human endeavor. The law was not only motivated by religious tenants, but reason and logic.

All the sudden everybody got smarter. Is it really a life? When does it become a life? Don’t I have the right to exercise the rights over my own body? Sex became a right with no responsibly or consequences. Evil men ran away from pregnant and destitute women so why not level the playing field.

(We have too many kids. Let’s get rid of speed limit signs in school zones. Let’s do it for future generations.)

Some laws are meant to level the playing field.

Laws meant to level the playing field often have a reverse effect. Many laws were enacted to assure equal rights for minorities and females. There are laws for affirmative action, hate crimes, school busing, and so on. The laws are well-intentioned, but all can produce a negative effect.

We now have reverse discrimination legal cases, where the plaintiff claims to have been passed over for a job because he is qualified and in the majority. It seems hardly fair to him. All the sudden the playing field is tilted.

Hate crimes are framed to additionally punish someone for a particular hatred one might display toward a race, religion, culture, or sexual orientation. I hope to never hit a car that has a rainbow sticker on it. “Your honor it is obvious Mr. Lewis was aiming for my clients car. At the same time the collision occurred he was listening to a right-wing talk show.”

I suppose school busing had benefits, but most were enjoyed by the companies that built school buses and it provided a bunch of part-time jobs. How many kids were picked up before dark, transported an hour and a half to a strange location, and dropped off back home just as the sun set?

Crooks like laws. It’s opportunity to make money. Every law makes money. It’s like a cash crop. It keeps lawyers, judges, and court personnel employed. It provides cash for government in the way of fines.

No, not me, I don’t want to make laws. I don’t want to be a part of a crime syndicate.

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Tagged as affirmative action, busing, civil rights, equal rights, gender, hate crimes, justice, law, lawyers, legal, Race

June 11, 2013 · 7:23 am

What Do Pigs Know That Humans Don’t?

Daily Prompt: Take Care

When you’re unwell, do you allow others to take care of you, or do you prefer to soldier on alone? What does it take for you to ask for help?

Animals sense danger. It is a built-in protection that allows for the survival of their species. Animals ignore the signs of dangers all the time. How often have we heard the expression, “The deer in the headlights look?”

Just as with animals humans are born quite innocent of the dangers around them. It takes training and care to raise a cub, a pup, a kitten, or child. Time is needed to instruct young ones of a species on how to deal with danger. For the animal kingdom it is mostly instinct, but for humans it is reason and logic.

Humans are the only species who will put themselves in harm’s way for the mere thrill. They know the possibilities and yet pursue danger. The entire theme park industry is built on that premise; to bring you as close to destruction as possible and snatch you from the jaws of death.

A guy ties a bungee cord to a bridge that spans a gorge. He ties two hundred pound weight to it and executes a practice drop. The cord stretches with the weight and comes twenty-five feet from the rocks three-hundred feet below.

He can’t wait to try it.

With the test jump complete he straps the cord around his ankles and heaves himself over the side of the bridge. The thrill is exhilarating. He is confident his one hundred and seventy-five pounds will allow for plenty of clearance. The cord stretches out. He comes to within thirty feet of the rocks. He thinks, ’Wow! What a rush.” He bounces a few times. As he does he has time to reflect on the joy of the experience and execution. He smiles not only because he cheated death, but he is smart.

Everything worked just as he had reasoned and calculated.

Soon the bouncing stops. Then he suddenly realizes a fatal flaw in his assessment of the entire escapade; he brought no one to reel him in or hoist him up.

“Hello! Hello! Can anyone hear me up there?”

The point is that asking for help and having it available should be a part of the contingency.

You seldom see a pig dangling alone from a bungee cord. They always have a spotter.

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Tagged as advice, bungee jumping, danger, humor, pigs, thrill sports

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“Maybe It’s Just Me…”

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