Near 500 words: The Nates

The two Nates met on a Saturday night. It was a Blind Date. As they were eating their burgers, Natalie said, “Wouldn’t it be funny?”

“If we fell in love?” Nathaniel finished her sentence.

“And got married?” Natalie finished his sentence.

“Let’s do that,” Nathaniel added.

The Blind Date turned into more dates till finally Nate asked Nate to marry him. Nate agreed and began to plan the wedding. They sent out invitations with N & N engraved on them.

Instead of a wedding dress and a tux, the bride dressed as Tweedledee and the groom was Tweedledum. It was the thing Nates would do. After all, she was tall and he was tall. She had long auburn hair and him, his hair was not so much.

He was bald. Gravity had tugged on his hair and pulled it through his head and downward into a long beard. But it was a nice beard, well-groomed in a groom sort of way.

In the chapel, they did their I-doeses to the applause of friends and family. At the reception, the best man, whose name was Charlie, toasted the couple. The maid of honor looked across the table and gave him the look. You know the one. The one that says it’s love at first sight. Her name was Charly.

Nate turned to Nate and said, “Before you know it—”

Nate finished the groom’s sentence, “they’ll be doing the Charleston.”

Then Nate and Nate went off to Hawaii for two weeks. They surfed. They snorkeled. They went to a luau. They rode motorcycles up the side of a volcano.

They came back pregnant. Soon Nate’s belly was balloon-size. They were having twins. The babies were born. Charly and Charlie came to the hospital to see the newborns. Charly was pregnant.

“When are you due?” Nate asked from her hospital bed.

“Seven months,” the beginning-to-show Charly answered, then smiled as she looked at the newborns.

Charlie looked up from the babies in their crib and over at Nate in her bed. “She has your smile.”

“He has your eyes,” Charly said to the father, standing beside his wife’s bed. “Do you have names picked out?”

“We do,” Nate said through his beard.

“I suppose,” Charly said as she felt her belly. It felt like a kick but it probably was too soon for that.

Her husband added, “it will be Nate and Nate.”

“Heck no,” Nate said from her bed. “That would be dumb.”

Nate agreed. “No, we’re calling them—”

From her bed, Nate said, “Smith and Jones.”

The soon-to-be father, asked, “Which one is Smith and which one is Jones?”

The new mom announced, “The girl is the older one. So her name is Jones.”

“And the boy is Smith,” Nate said.

Both Charly and Charlie gave them a look that said, “How did you choose which was which?”

Nate’s wife answered, “Oh that’s easy. The first one out was Jones. So it’s obvious that Smith has to keep up with the Jones.”

 

Advertisements

Joe Angel

Joe Angel had been in the crowd during the Queen of Heaven’s coronation. He had been the angel the farthest away from the crowning. But that was the way with Joe. He didn’t get any of the big assignments like kicking Satan’s butt. He would have loved to take on that guy. But, no, his boss, Sgt. Big Angel Pants, told him he didn’t have the goods.

“I want to do something important,” he told the Sergeant.

“You are doing something important. You’re filling out the choir.”

“I’m so far away.”

“We don’t want you messing up the choir. You don’t have the voice to be up close to the Big Guy. Wouldn’t want to embarrass yourself, now would you?”

Joe went away from the meeting, wandering what his purpose was. It always seemed to be that he was not good enough for the better assignments. He headed to the heavenly kitchen for his shift at the dishwasher.

Beverly Angel was waiting for him. “You’re late,” she said.

“How can I be late?” the little guy asked. “We’ve got all eternity.”

“Joe, what’s gotten in to you? Your attitude used to be so positive. Lately it’s gone to hell.”

“I’ve been watching these You Tube videos on getting ahead in life. You got to watch them. You’d realize you don’t have it so good either.”

“Look, if you’re not careful, you’re going…Well, let’s just say you won’t like what happens.”

Just at that moment, Gary Angel peeked in. “Hey, guys, the Big Guy’s coming through tomorrow.”

Beverly jumped up and down and yelled, “Whoopee.” She had happy written all over her face.

But Joe stood dejected.

“Joe, what’s with you? You used to be an up kind of angel. Now look at you.”

Bev said, “You Tube videos.”

“Oh, c’mon. Not you, Joe.”

Bev again, “Yeah, ‘fraid so. And he’s got a bad case of ambitionitis.”

Gary gave a rather large sigh. “Joe, you got to straighten up. You’re an angel. Your glass is filled brimming to the top. Your cup runneth over. Don’t go where you’re going.”

“But, Gary—”

“No ifs, ands or buts. It’s time to turn that frown upside down.” He took Joe’s cheeks and forced his face into a smile. “Now that’s the Joe I like to see.”

Gary turned and headed to the door. Just as he was about to leave, he said, “Oh, Joe, could you please give those wings of yours the once-over. They’re starting to droop.”

As Gary left, he mumbled to himself, “I don’t know what’s happening to this younger generation. I started at that same dishwasher and look at me now. And tomorrow I get to sing tenor in Handel’s Messiah.”

Poor Joe. He always thought being an angel would be the greatest. Flying around on clouds and playing harp. That just hadn’t happened. Those jobs were saved for Michael and Gabriel’s relatives. Nepotism, you know.

Gary ran back into the dishwasher room. “Joe, the Big Guy wants to see you. You’re in trouble now. You’d better scoot over there fast.”

Joe left the kitchen, dejection all over his puss. The Big Guy. Man, this just wasn’t his day.

He walked to the Big Guy Building, showed his i.d. to the Big Guy guards, took the Big Guy elevator to the top floor and the Big Guy Suite. He walked into the lobby of the office. Behind the desk sat a tall blonde angel. She had the sweetest face.

“He’s waiting.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Joe said and entered the Big Guy office.

The Big Guy was reading a file on His desk. “Joe, take a seat.”

Joe sat down. The chair was so soft Joe almost disappeared in it.

The Big Guy looked up at Joe. There was a twinkle in His eyes and a smile on His face.  “We’ve been looking at your file. These last two hundred years you’ve done a slam, bang-up job. First there was the harp factory. Every body loved your harps. They had that special kind of sound We love. Then We sent you over to trumpet cleaning. Gabe was really impressed. And now the Dishwashing Brigade. You took the demotion like an angel. We know you’ve been down-in-the-mouth lately. All those You Tube videos.”

“Here it comes,” Joe thought.

“Thought We’d forgotten about you, didn’t you, Joe? Well, We haven’t.”

“What do you mean, Sir?”

“We’ve been looking for just the right job for a go-getter like yourself. And We’ve finally got something that should be right up your alley.”

“Escorting people to—to the bad place,” Joe thought.

The Big Guy came around His desk. He walked over to Joe and picked the angel up out of his cushiony chair and gave him the kind of hug only the Big Guy could give. When He released Joe from that hug, the angel thought he’d died and gone to heaven.

“Joe, you’re going to be joining Gabriel’s Brigade. You’ll have your own trumpet. You’ll get a new set of wings. And, of course, there’ll be a raise in pay. Think you can manage saying yes.”

“Y-y-y-y-es, Sir.”

Joe left the Big Guy office floating on a cloud. He took the Big Guy elevator down and went back to his dinky little apartment. That night he slept like a lamb.

Over the next two weeks, he reported to the Gabriel Brigade. They gave him new wings, a new robe, a new halo. He began his trumpet training. By the end of the two weeks, he was sounding pretty darn good.

One morning he showed up bright and early for work with that bright-and-early smile of his.

“Gabe wants to see you,” said the sergeant in charge of training the new guys.

Gabriel was tall, really tall. He had a glow on his face that would have put the sun to shame. He got up from his desk and shook Joe’s hand. “Welcome to the Show. I think you’re going to like it here.”

Joe smiled. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Now for your first assignment. Think you can handle it.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You know it was picked out just for you. By the Big Guy Himself.”

“Wow, just for me.” Joe had the kind of smile that only can an angel can have.

“Yes. Just for you.”

Joe couldn’t believe his luck. Finally he was going to get his just desserts.

Gabe stepped back and gave Joe the old looksee. Nodded and said, “When it comes to this assignment, I’ve got some good news.”

“Oh, boy,” Joe thought. His smile would have made even Gary proud.

“And some bad news.”

A guy doing a videocast

This guy is standing in his living room, talking to the camera for his Youtube video: “I’m here to tell you I can smoke wherever I please. It’s my constitutional right. And it’s in the ten commandments too. Where does the city get off telling me I can’t smoke where I want? Next thing I know they’ll tell me I can’t take a piss. Who do they think they are? I have the right to have lung cancer if I want to. Just like I have the right to have a heart attack. It’s my body, so stay the damn way out of what I do. I ain’t harming nobody. Oh, they say I am harming my body and I will die younger than I should. How do they think I got this far anyway? Smoking and taking a piss. I tell you the next thing I know they’ll be sending their goon squad to take my guns away. Chuck Heston was right. Over my dead body. They didn’t get his guns and they’re not going to get my guns. Could you wait a minute? There’s somebody at the door.”

Fifteen minutes later, the guy comes back to the camera: “I can’t believe it. Two young punks broke into my house and stole my guns. I just called the cops. They’re on their way. And the punks took my cigarettes too.”

Politics in America 44: Whatever happened to old what’s his name anyway? 

Now I can hear some of you asking, “Just what happened to Big Al Fresco? Didn’t he get caught out on the White House lawn with Stever the Cleaver?”

‘Fraid not. If ever there was a man who knew how to save his butt in a precarious situation, it was Big Al. Back on the lawn on that dark and stormy night, he knocked the breath out of Stever the Cleaver. Face down in the AstroTurf, The Cleaver laid there, counting the blades of grass.

Big Al lit out for Snort Holler. He hasn’t been seen lately. He’s probably doing what DoNaughties always do. He’s doing naughty. And he’s probably doing it with Ellie May Marmalade.

There was one rumor that Big Al had gone Hollywood. He was making B movies, all starring the star in his life, Ellie May. But that’s only a rumor. ‘Course there have been a lot of drive-in movie theaters popping up all over the United States. Snort Holler has two. Weazel Sneaze even has one.

The Great Man, President P F Sneaze, what happened to him? Congress tarred and feathered him and ran him out of town on a rail.

You know what that means? Maynard Gee, the man who hated work, dropped the Vice and became the next POTUS. Since he hated work, he didn’t do anything. That pleased Americans a lot. That’s how we like our leaders. To stay out of our bizwax. Too much leadership and what do you have? Too much leadership, that’s what.

And the former First Lady? What happened to Betty Sue Pudding? She went off on the Grand Tour. She saw Europe in style. Then she returned home and started her own You Tube Channel. There’s another rumor too. She’s been asked to do a series for the Comedy Channel.

And guess what? There may just be a movie called “The Tragic Life and Times of Betty Sue Pudding”. Big Al has been reported to be the director. It won’t be the first time he’s gone big time. ‘Course one thing is for sure. It’s all a lot of B.S., don’t you think?

THE END

A Brand New Year

Hip hip hooray! We made it through 2016. Now there’s a whole new year on the horizon. I am not saying it will be better or it will be worse. All I am saying is there’s 365 days ahead of us and we get a new start. It’s my hope that one of your New Year’s Goals is to continue to check out Uncle Bardie’s Stories & Such.

Before I go into my hashing and rehashing, I just want all of you, my friends, to know how much I appreciate all that you do. Blogging for me is like being a member of a large circle of a community.

I try to keep up with the posts in my Reader. In addition, late at night when moi has a case of the insomnias, I go roving through the posts of people who have given me a like or a comment. That’s a great way to find new blogs. I may not follow you or make comments on your latest blog posts but I am grateful for the posts. And for your generosity.

Only another blogger would understand how much work and thought goes into each post. We send them out into the world with hope that they will find a friend or two and touch someone with a blessing. Your generosity and your hard work is much appreciated from this end of the galaxy.

Now for some hashing and rehashing. Over the past two and a half years, I have had the great pleasure of giving you Stories & Such. I hope you have enjoyed them as much as I have making them.

For the last year or so, Uncle Bardie posted five posts a week. Sundays have been a free-for-all anything-goes kind of post. Mondays a weekly movie. Wednesdays an on-going novel called “Politics in America” and the Man from Weazel Sneeze. Thursdays a weekly music selection. And Fridays a Creative Artist.

Uncle Bardie’s been doing a heap of thinking lately. That means that he’s been ramming his head against the wall to shake his brain loose. Long time ago Uncle Bardie started with three posts a week. Beginning this week, he will return to three posts a week.

Why cut back? Doing five posts a week consumes a lot of seconds and minutes and hours. I have come to realize that it’s time to get on with some longer writing projects. I have several long stories and a novel that needs serious editing. Only by cutting back on the posting can I get to those projects.

So here’s the plan. Sundays will continue to be a free-for-all. Fridays will combine three weekly posts–Friday’s Creator Corner, the Weekly Music Pick and the Movie of the Week–into one and retitle the new post “Uncle Bardie’s Spotlight”. Each week will feature one of the three on a rotating basis with an occasional re-ordering to honor someone or something specific or just because I want to be ornery that week.

Wednesdays are for an on-going project. In 2014, I spent a year of Wednesdays creating short stories in response to a series of short story prompts. Fifty-five to be exact. 2015’s Wednesdays were a humorous look at “Hamlet”. 2016 brought y’all “Politics in America”, a satirical response to the presidential campaign. Come February 1 of the new year that will sink over the horizon Titanic-style.

But Wednesday’s comedy will not be over. On top of that, it will not end. There will be more comedy. As Zero Mostel sang in “A Funny Thing Happened On the Way to the Forum”, there will continue to be comedy.

That comedy will come in the form of a very loosely based historical humorous novel called “The Absolutely Unbelievable Extraordinary of Lady Wimpleseed Prissypotte”.

The Adventures take place at the end of the nineteenth century. The daughter of a rich American is pressured into marrying a British Lord. Momsie wants a title in the fam. The Lord the daughter marries has one foot in the cemetery and one in the grave. In chapter three, her new hubby croaks in a bowl of soup. Suddenly the heroine doesn’t know what to do with herself, so she goes in pursuit of True Love. Or at least a good orgasm.

The novel has bandits, Mata Hari, Tarzan, big game hunters, Queen Victoria and three of the nicest ghosts ever to haunt a British manor house. If that wasn’t enough, it has mud pies, steamboats, and Istanbul. Loosely based on the old serial, “The Perils of Pauline”, it was a lot of fun to write. I hope it’s as much fun to read.

I want to close out this post by wishing you a Happy New Year for 2017. And leave you with the wonderful Renee Fleming singing Cesar Franck’s “Panis Angelicus”.