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Life Coaching, Observations, Reflections, Things that make you go hmmmmm

Tag Archives: Observation

Potty Mouth

Potty Mouth

When I saw this thing roll by it was difficult to take what I saw for real. Figured I couldn’t of seen it correctly. Followed it up and I saw it right.

I looked, I read, the words that came out of my mouth were not the words that were being said in my brain as I was in a public place. I did a recent piece about cursing. I do and the bit I do is mostly benign. If I forget something or make an error you’ll get an “oh shit” out of me. Who hasn’t let out a “Damn it!”?

One of the things it says on the splash down (no not a #2) screen is this, “helps you and your child learn the importance of taking regular potty breaks”.

This thing…. THIS THING!

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!?

Where do you even start with how fucked up this is?
Is this what it’s come to with parenting today?

Potty Time With Text

G.R. Hambley ©
September 16, 2017

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Bella Terza Rima, Maybe

Bella Terza Rima, Maybe

I’m told the scheme is from romance
Something more in the poetic amore
My first time playing at this dance

Found myself needing to write today
Drifting with the harmony in rhyme
Thinking I’ll love this style’s sway

One’s first try may not reach sublime
Line two of writing follows one and three
Should this fail to soar I shan’t pine

Aye, the style doth differently challenge me
Perhaps tis worthy to read of others pursuit
Much to learn before bidding adieu the plebe

There’d be such the scene were my chest hirsute
Seems a shame to be winding this piece down
The puffing and preening would be an absolute

During writing there was A moment profound
Me thinks the engineers should hear this tragedy
Never, ever, let MS Word read poetry aloud!

G.R. Hambley ©
September 04, 2017

There you have it, a first “Terza Rima”. Still not sure where the stop in the scheme should be. When I got in to the flow and the scheme, it is fun and it is a beaut!

ABA BCB CDC DED……

Fear and the Alligator Mouth

Fear and the Alligator Mouth

Fear, we all have it within. Fear, the fight or flight mechanism. Fear is good. Fear can keep you safe.

Making someone afraid is bad. Conducting yourself without fear, also bad.

Fear, the healthy respect, it’s eroding and there is good and bad in the erosion.

Unfortunately, one of the fears that is eroding is the fear of getting slapped or punched in the mouth.

It’s just simple physics y’all, action/reaction. Who’s to say the verbal slap isn’t equal to the physical slap? Qualification physics.

Read a few stories about cursing in the work place a few weeks back. The information didn’t surprise me in the least with the conduct I’ve seen over the last decade or so in less formal places. This would include the driver of the vehicle in the cursing incident I’m gonna tell you about.

A few links that’ll give you a jumping off point. All open in a new tab or window.

Who swears more at work, men or women?

Watch Your Mouth! More Women Swear at Work Than Men

Why people go @*@&@(*&! in the office

I witnessed a cursing incident. Wasn’t pleasant and I felt for the person who was in the passenger seat and had to listen to the broadcast. A captive audience to the diatribe of the driver.

I looked at the guy in the passenger seat, give him the palms up with shoulder shrug and look to the heavens with head shaking.

This is a Friday afternoon on hot sunny day in the core of Toronto during rush hour. It’s always tourist season in this city so factor that in too.

Mr Captive Audience returns my gestures. The driver is still dropping the “F” bombs in rapid succession.

Me and the guy, we’re still looking at each other while the driver carries on with the F Bomb Blues. I give him the “can you believe this, what’cha gonna do gesture” again and he gives it back to me.

Meanwhile people are stopping on the street, looking for where this Blue Bird of Unhappiness is chirping from.

Third time is the charm right? Well me and that guy, we go through the, “I don’t know, can you believe this shit” shrugging ritual again and, and, and the driver sees him do it.

Then I felt even worse, that poor, poor, bastard. The guy was gonna have to explain to the woman the “what the hell was that?” that she’d just seen. Right then a gap opens and she’s in to it and moving off, slowly.

As they move off to the east I’m left standing there watching them go and thinking, “Fare thee well you poor, poor, bastard”.

Girls have their RITES and so do guys. Only a guy can understand what is going to happen next. While men and women are the same species, maybe, we are vastly different creatures.

Completely oblivious to what’s going on around her. The guy is going to have to tell her the outburst was heard by a whole lot of people. He’s going to have to tell her he wasn’t real pleased to be a part of the centre of attention.

I could tell he didn’t condone the action and I’m hoping that little tidbit of information gets passed along to little Ms ME. No not “Medical Examiner and yes “Millennium Entitled”. Hey maybe it was a different inflated entitlement. Or just maybe, and as much as women like to protest they can’t be such a thing, (yeah they can) she was just an asshole.

I’m betting she’ll tell him, “I don’t fucking care”. Any takers? Just to be safe, that bet, it’s rhetorical.

It’s a whole lot different when a guy does it and it’s a woman in the passenger seat.

Now when a woman tells a man about his behaviour, he’s expected to be contrite and appreciative of the efforts that fine woman has made to show him the error of his ways. But if a man does the same, he’s insensitive for not being on her side. Doesn’t matter she was carrying on like a braying jackass. The guy is wrong and the woman is right.

Brings to mind using sex as a weapon and why guys will just shut the hell up or stick up. Sex as a weapon, that’s a sordid tale for another time.

Her outburst had to do with being late and not being able to move faster in rush hour traffic. She was held up. Her getting to where she had to go, her only consideration. She was about that close to a self-induced persecution complex.

Male or female, the ones running their alligator mouths are going to be the ones expecting their friends and family to auto back them.

The infamous “Hummingbird Ass”, there are more and more of them vocalizing every day because they do not fear. This is bad.

Backing them, you’ll probably have to do so one way or another because that “Alligator Mouth” overloaded what is most probably a “Hummingbird Ass”. Not going to take the chance on them getting reamed or hurt. Especially if you’re a guy, you got no choice but to stand up. Even if you’d like to take a strip off the asshole her yourself on this one, (with the accompanying head shake and eye roll) you gotta stand up.

Women are real good for calling guys on what they do. How about paying attention to and emulating what men don’t do instead of emulating what you think they do?

As always, I’ve talked to those of both sexes about what I see and what I think. The good people in my community are good enough to tell me what they see and think. A diverse bunch and I appreciate them all!

We talked about the lack of fear in personal deportment. Conduct if you prefer. Lessons imparted that help bad things not happen, too you.

Apparently, in this century, cursing is the new civility. Well maybe for women in the office, walking down the street and potty mouth groups heading for a potty break.

Angry is the new happy. Just like fear, anger can and does elicit the fight/flight response. Pretty much the same effect as an alligator mouth overloading a hummingbird ass. That response would be walk away or slap you fucking silly.

Not all slaps are physical. The verbal ones can hurt more than a physical slap and take much longer to heal, if at all. The verbal slap is quite likely to be more inviting to make response. And then it’s on and it’s ugly and no one needs it.

Within the confined quarters on an automobile, that cursing the world behaviour gets real old real fast.

Now we got a few kinds of abuse going on. Physical maybe, it’s emotional for sure and then there is abuse of the word. I detest the abuse of the word.

I trust you’ve had a look at the links I’ve included.

Women have got to start being accountable for what they do. Especially so when in an environment where they invented the current fucking language, the office. Women can’t be playing the, “Well men do it” card when they are the biggest offenders.

If you’ve read me some, you know as a certainty that I talk with the people in my community. Some of what we talk about is what we’ve seen, encountered, bypassed on the street.

Again, if you’ve read me you know I’m a smoker. I pop out for one and take in what’s going on around me. Sometimes I just pop out because moving around helps the thought process.

When the cursing is cascading down the street in 4 or 5 part disharmony, more often than not it is women.

The community standard, gratuitous cursing is unattractive and uncomfortable. The result is ostracising. Judicious cursing, can be effective and appreciated. Oddly, the community standard operates just that way.

I’m not going to pull a holier-than-thou televangelist routine and pretend I don’t curse because I do. I’m not going to lie to you and say when I curse it’s all for effect cuz it isn’t.

Thing is, and I get it, cursing derives from the word curse. Not many people seem to understand that and it is a shame, all they’re really accomplishing with the behaviour is putting a curse on themselves.

I’m a proponent of being able to use all the words. Simply, male or female, cursing as a regular part of your vocabulary, it isn’t attractive. I haven’t been real comfortable dropping the expletives in to this piece. There has been muttering under my breath which has included epithets.

Of course you are free to carry on as you like. While you’re carrying on, consider this.

With angry as the new happy, and people putting up with much less, one way or another, your alligator mouth could be on the receiving end of a well deserved slap and merit badge.

If you require further illumination, see rule 10.

G.R. Hambley ©
August 23, 2017

You Don’t Hate Me?!

You Don’t Hate Me?!

No, I don’t hate you. I don’t hate anyone.

The title of this piece, “You Don’t Hate Me” is from an individual who asked me if I like them. That after I had said “No” to being asked by that individual if I liked them. I don’t dislike the individual either.

There are a vast number of people I neither like, or dislike. This possibility didn’t figure in to the individual’s equation.

There are a great many people who don’t put all the factors in to their equations.

All those people I’m in indifferent to, I hope they’re having nice lives and are basically happy. People who are having basically happy lives probably aren’t up to stupid shit. I detest stupid shit.

Stupid Shit 02I got a whole lot of healthy indifference for pretty much everyone on the planet. You and me, we’re all the same. You got a whole lot of indifference too. I’m not much for telling people what they should do but in this case, that worldly indifference, so you should.

I’ve also got an interest in meeting and talking to people and not just foreign ones.

I also have a pretty intense dislike for a handful of people walking this rock too. They earned it.

You hate me! I’m good with that and you know what else, I don’t care. I don’t care and you can just carry that hatred load as long as you desire. Hatred is a wasted emotion. Hating only demeans the self.

G.R. Hambley
July 04, 2017

I shot the Ibis a long time ago and you’re welcome to use the meme.

Chronological Order of Postings

Pride, My Ass

Pride, My Ass

It was “PRIDE” weekend in Toronto the weekend just passed, June 23, 24 and 25. Well it’s “PRIDE” month actually. We don’t want to offend some enough to frost you flake by not being all inclusive now do we!

The tone was different this year. The feel in the revelry and celebration that was there in the past, not this time.

There was a tension in the air brought on by PRIDE allying themselves with BLM and excluding Toronto Police. Toronto EMS and Fire backed their police brethren.

I haven’t read anything about the Toronto Parade as I write this. I don’t need to. I don’t need to read some racist or flaky excuse for blowing up a bridge instead of building one. I don’t need some arrogant flake or racist bigot telling me they are absolutely right and everyone else is absolutely wrong.

I don’t need to read anything for what I’ve got to say here.

The thing about not reading and not listening to anything either, as yet, I’m interested in what may have taken place or not at the “Al Quds” March. Checking my spelling, I see Calgary was peaceful so there’s a nice piece of news.

I already stated the feel within “Toronto The Good” was different this year and it was. I’m not the only one who felt it. Haven’t done much talking to others about that feeling and again, I don’t need to.

There were noticeably fewer people here for this year’s parade. I live in the core, lots of hotels and touristy things to do. There were fewer people. One of the lead Service Elves agrees that there were fewer people this year.

Toronto Pride Horse As I was walking up one of Toronto’s major streets in the core early yesterday evening I heard the clipity clop of horses and sure enough it’s Toronto Police coming up behind me.

All 3 officers were women. All 3 were flying the PRIDE Flag on their saddles.

As the Officers were passing a couple of people, something was said to them. I don’t know what it was that was said as the person that spoke to the Officers had their back to me.

As the Officers and their Chargers headed slowly down an out of the way side street in to the western sun, it occurred to me just how much the asses of the 3 horses reminded me of John Tory, Kathleen Wynne and Justin Trudeau.

Yes, yes I heard just fine what one of the Officers replied when spoken to, “It’s okay, we’ve got our own parade”.

G.R. Hambley ©
June 26, 2017

Rite of Passage or Practical Indignancy 101

Rite of Passage or Practical Indignancy 101

On 2 June, 2017 I made the visit to the new to me Pain Clinic I spoke of in my eHealth Ontario piece.

I went in with the information sheets filled out. Didn’t pull any punches on the forms. One of the questions was, “What would you like your doctor to do with the pain”. My written response, “Give it to the individual that hit me”. If you know me, you damn well know I did so write it down and you’re laughing because doing that is so me!

Yes, I brought out some theatre. Yes I brought out some of my intelligent donkey and yes I made it known I wasn’t pleased to be having to do the same things again because there is next to nothing in the way of records attached to me.

Put more simply, you gotta rise to the occasion!

I went in there prepared to make a stand and with an open mind. Both objectives were accomplished.

No nonsense, no pretense, no side stepping. Oddly as I was being examined, I was never questioned about my answer to the “what do you want done with your pain” question.

You’d think the Docs would of wanted to discuss my B.A. (bad attitude) but nary a word.

The initial questioning was done by a resident. Poor dear girl, exposing one so young to a mind like this.

Going through the info sheets and the Resident asking me if there was anything else that made the pain feel better, and I said, “Not without a partner”. A blank look on a doctor’s face after you’ve answered their question, priceless! I don’t know how anyone else feels but, I don’t think you should have to explain the benefits of sex to a doctor, even one in training.

It is incumbent on you to tell your health care professionals the truth. It is in your best interest to be emotionally present when discussing your condition(s). They have to know your mindset as well as your physical status. Complete communication is not an invitation to go off on a rant. A rant  is singular expression and not communication in a good way.

The simple explanation is that there is a long history of dealing with chronic pain attached to me and I still have chapters to go. I had a lot to say and I did a lot of talking during this examination.

No, no seeing doctors as Gods by me. Doctors are just body mechanics. I’ll grant you they oversee the most complex machines on the planet but they’re still mechanics.

I made certain both doctors, the anesthesiology resident and the specialist were clear on what I wouldn’t do. A stand had to be made. I am simply not going to keep doing what doesn’t work and relating it to new faces any longer.

I’ve been dealing with chronic pain far longer than those that need it will receive palliative care. My demand is simple, give me the same considerations in my medical dealings with chronic pain that would be given to an individual in Palliative care.

Palliative care is a multidisciplinary approach to specialized medical care for people with life-limiting illnesses. It focuses on providing people with relief from the symptoms, pain, physical stress, and mental stress of the terminal diagnosis.

I’ve been living with chronic pain almost 1/2 my life. Oddly mine too is Osteoarthritis. What the court did is good because the Feds didn’t get it correct with Bill C-14, Medical Assisted Dying and that piece of legislation still needs work.

Let’s not be reading things in to the statements I’m making that aren’t there. I’ve a 150 year life plan that is my harmless little fantasy so leave me the hell alone.

Part of your decision must come from dealing with the reality of your own impending death. You are setting a termination date for yourself and that reality may help you examine your pain more closely. I would hope the death reality would make you examine more closely.

I’m tired of building the history when I have to see someone new. Hell. I’m tired of seeing the new. I’m tired of the slight variations in a molecular chain that just might make a positive difference for me. But we’ll have to try different dosages to see which will work, if any of course.

I enjoy my mind quite a bit. With all that goes on up there in my head space, I love my mind. Of course I talk to myself a lot. But then I show other people the conversations I’ve had with myself. This is called writing and it is how writing gets done. Talking to yourself and not writing it down is called something entirely different.

We are talking antidepressants here. Depression was part of the consultation conversation. By definition I am depressed. Going by the definition given to me by one pain clinic doctor, I’ve been depressed 30 days less than I’ve had pain. I wasn’t real pleased when the event took place so let’s call it 20 days.

I’m tired of having my brain chemistry tinkered with so I’m not going to take on the new old with a slightly different chain. I’m not taking it on despite telling the Doctor in charge that I would. Yup, I flat out lied to the Doctor. The Doc got to feel  good that he’d done something good for me and I got him to stop pulling out stops.

I’m a creative. My mind is never off. I’ve been through this idea of treatment before and I can show you in my journal where my handwriting changes back to what it was when I stopped taking those mind altering drugs previously.

I’m still trying to figure out how me sleeping 25% longer, keeping me horizontal 25% longer is going to make me feel better. Especially so when the problem is I have to get up and move around to feel better. Doc didn’t have an answer for that.

The Doc did make the point of all drugs affecting the mind and that is true BUT, not all drugs directly affect cognizance and antidepressants do.

The consultation wrapped up and the primary clinic doc looks at me and says, “Degenerative” and I looked right back at him and said, “Yup”.

My demeanor and disposition are much improved with the decisions I’ve made. I’m not shutting off and tuning out. You present me a possible treatment option that is new and I’ll listen.

I know this stuff and if I need more help I’ll ask. I’ll keep regular with my primary pain doctor so he’s up to speed on what’s slowing me down.

I shall go forward in life happier because I’ve eliminated a major stressor!

G.R. Hambley ©
June 22, 2017

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eHealth Ontario and Wicked Ways Wynne

eHealth Ontario and Wicked Ways Wynne

We are about a year away from the next election in Ontario. The “No Wynne” Liberals are in full save their collective of asses mode.

Billion dollar scandals; The Liberals are infamous for billion dollar scandals! Over paying for electricity, multiple billions in the dumping of surplus electricity, not building gas plants and of course an oldie and a real goodie, the Billion dollar scandal attached to eHealth Ontario.

I’ve been dealing with chronic pain for almost ½ my life. First week of June I’ll be going to a new to me pain clinic. There is nothing of my past history following me around that is readily available to the staff of that clinic. Nothing they can review prior to seeing me for the first time. There is no historical data to compare against.

I’m going to have to relate everything, again. I’m going to have to fill out the same condition information sheets, again. I’m going to have to sign releases, again. I have to do these things all again because there is nothing attached to me for clinic staff to review.

Fortunately, I keep pretty fair records and they are all electronic. The information I’ve got will still require review. We’re going from ground zero and we shouldn’t have to. Part of the reason we have to start over when there is a change, because of the Billion dollar eHealth mess up courtesy of Ontario’s Governing Liberals.

True Wynne wasn’t Premiere in 2009 and McGuinty was. Also true Wynne and her Liberals have screwed up eHealth even more. With performance as the yardstick, I have to believe patronage with Wynne’s brother-in-law attached to eHealth.

Let me make it easy for you and me, your search parameter is, “Kathleen Wynne eHealth Ontario”. You aint gonna like it.

Signing the release to obtain is no guarantee what is being asked for is going to be delivered by the record holder to the record owner, me.

Two requests were made to obtain by my current doctor of my previous doctor. The requests went unanswered.

I’ve had the who owns the records conversation briefly with 2 different doctors over the last couple days. We all agree, the records belong to the patient. Without the patient there are no records to make.

You can get a vehicle repair/maintenance report from a dealership on a used vehicle you are purchasing. If the vehicle is plugged in to the system you get what has been entered. The dealership or mechanics that have worked on the vehicle don’t own the records, the vehicle owner does.

No more should we ever be having a problem with accessing our health records. The capability is here.

Is it fair to have a doctor go back 20 years and convert the patient file to “E” format? No, it isn’t. Is it unreasonable in this age for a doctor to be providing “E” data to the rightful owner after a current visit, no. The vehicle owner gets the mechanics report so why wouldn’t an individual get a report on their machine from the mechanic doctor?

Yes I understand there are a number of hurdles but the end goal is attainable. The end goal is for an individual to be able to control their own historical health information. The end goal would be much closer had Ontario’s Liberals not blown that Billion dollars.

Does Ontario’s Premiere Wicked Witch Wynne really care about the people as she would now have you believe? Electricity rate reduction and high speed rail Toronto – Windsor corridor to name a couple recent carrots being dangled for the proletariat.

“No Wynne” doesn’t care about the people and never has. Shouldn’t hold that against her though. I can’t name any politicians that care about the people. If they did, those politicians would get their party leaders in touch with the peoples anger and voice.

Kathleen Wynne does care about her bullying agenda and telling people what is absolutely best for them. Give Wynne pushback and she brands you or plays a card. The exception being showing up at her doorstep. Do that and then she’ll bend over and kiss your butt.

I came to these conclusions based on Wynne’s performance and oddly enough, Wynne’s lack of performance. You can bet big that Wynne and her Provincial Liberals are on board with the Federal Liberals in trying to eradicate free speech. See Federal Motion, M-103.

How soon do you think the Liberals will introduce “Governmentaphobia” in to a revised motion? All so you can’t talk about government with the scorn and disgust they so richly deserve!

I’ve used and will continue to use this Heritage Plaque that I pass 3 or 4 times a week. We as Ontarians and Canadians are entitled to a certain standard and we just aren’t getting it. Municipal to Provincial to Federal, we aren’t getting what we’re entitled to.

It isn’t wrong to be angry. It isn’t wrong to be vocal. What you do with the anger and the voice can be wrong. Those who would like to make you eat your anger and shut off your voice, that is called emotionally controlling and they’re the ones who are wrong.

Ontario’s next election is on or before June 07, 2018, be relevant!

G.R. Hambley May 27, 2017
All rights reserved

Medical Assisted Dying Bill C-14

 

A Marine Passes

A Marine Passes

At 1:58 am on 15 May, 2017 an American Marine passed on. To some that man was and will always be, more than a Marine.

Being a United States Marine didn’t define what the man was. Being a Marine was a part of what made up the whole man.

The man had a tough go before the irony that is the illness that eventually took his life got him. Irony in abundance. He fought the good fight with dignity and grace. Never gave up. I’m sure he thought of it as we all would in that situation. He carried on out of a love of life and family. The duty he believed was owed to himself and his family.

No one would have faulted him had he chose to move along to the next plain of his own volition. He endured that much. He cared that much to soldier on.

This man was given the last rites in Vietnam. He was subjected to derision at the very least for having gone to Vietnam when he returned home. He came home with issues and worked on those issues.

Much later on in life, he was stricken with cancer and the belief is that “Agent Orange” was the culprit. There’s your irony. It took his own country to do what the enemy couldn’t.

A number of years ago that man and I were out somewhere when I was down in Rhode Island working out some of my own issues. I do remember it was winter and damn cold.

We were walking up to the door after getting home and I asked him, “Knowing what you know, would you do it again”. This is one of those you had to be there moments. The man knew my question didn’t come out of anything but interest in how he felt and what he thought.

“Knowing what you know, would you do it again” and the reply was, “My country called”.

Not another word was spoken between us. We both knew and understood what was in the answer.

Three words made up a “you had to be there” moment. I cannot convey everything that was in those three words. You had to see the man when he said, “My country called”. I could tell you about it so you could see and understand. I can’t write what I saw that day because no amount of words is going to be able to describe that moment properly.

I spoke of that moment a couple times with people in conversation because it fit with what we were talking about. I never told anyone about this encounter that is close to the man. The conversation was between him and me and except for those few instances, that is where it stayed.

Toughest man I ever knew. One of the best men I’ve ever known too.

Semper Fi, definitely. Character, absolutely.

Francis “Frank” Connors is survived by my cousin Karen, son Eli, daughters Shannon, Sandra and Michelle. Grandchildren, more family, others who love him and by what is now, a grateful nation.

Gary Hambley, May 15, 2017

Were You Me – Lyric

Were You Me

Lyric

Watching out the window on a cloudy day
Caught up in all those billows shifting shapes
Faces through my ages floating in grey space
There’s so little that’s left out in front
There’s so much that got left behind
Got more that keeps hanging on

Were I you and you me
          It’d all be so much easier to see
Were I you and you me
          I wouldn’t have to make you believe

Watching out this window could take all day
Caught up in all that gave me my shape
Faces of some, only the name remains in place
Why even worry about what’s in front
Why would it matter if it bites my behind
Don’t need more to keep hanging on

Were I you and you me
          It’d all be so much easier to see
Were I you and you me
          I wouldn’t have to make you believe

Watching out that window took all day
Caught up in what needs put in shape
Faces, could manage one more with grace
When you can find someone up front
When it matters you can leave behind
Finding there’s so much life to hang on

Were I you and you me
          It’d all be so much easier to see
Were I you and you me
          I wouldn’t have to make you believe
Were I you and you me
          You’d know it don’t end until the day you leave

G.R. Hambley ©
May 13, 2017

Community; Mine

Community; Mine

Souls old, souls new, souls lost, some hoping desperately to be found
Philosophers, perambulators and pals, the odd sniff of pretention
Hims and hers, some that are, quite honestly, deeply confused
Every face, should you care, bringing a unique study in story

Retro and metro, and for others, the splendour that is sartorial
Eye on a passing thigh and my oh my is that Rebel Circus I spy
Open minds, open hearts, open conversations and well who knew
Faces from faraway places, happily in a space that has no races

Accountants, Aides to Teaching, but if you can’t say without preaching
Cups of coffee, gallons of conversation and Sugar when it’s Psunday*
Quips and quills, more than a few spills, splotches of great delusion
Untold stories, stories shared, stories that will be woven by me

Aged, ageless, those just beginning to write their journey for the ages
In they tromp, costumed and not, cute as buttons, kids enjoying theatre
New ones in 21st century jolly jumpers, jump dad jump, gee thanks mom
Thespians, orators, of both the professional and amateur ranks rant

As life goes on all around you, yours for the sharing, it’s no illusion
Names and faces, you come to know, as you do enjoyment grows
Contacts, connections, conversations in confidence, all do ensue
Elves wearing bells bearing versions of coffee, catch me one if you can

G.R. Hambley ©
May 09, 2017