Goodbye Salt n Pepper

Salt and pepper

Photo courtesy of Marina Semesh


Salt and pepper on my table
Standing together ready and able
Making my food taste oh so good
Working together as they should

But oh what’s this? A little change
Please don’t think me very strange
But salt right now is all I need
The pepper today can take its leave

“Oh” they say, “you don’t like the black one?”
“Your raging spite had better be soon done”
From the truth nothing could be further
I’d just like salt upon my burger

“Racist!” “Bigot!” “Jerk” they yell
“From our grace you certainly fell”
“Thinking white much better than black”
“Now we see you’re a bigoted hack”

Not true! Not true! You hear my cries
Watch me put pepper upon my fries
Not appeased, not too happy
The offended party was feeling scrappy

“We’ll report you, We won’t fail”
“You’ll be picked up, thrown in jail”
“Your racist rant has caused much harm”
“Your racist rant brings much alarm”

To my jail cell arrived newspapers
Filled with news about devious capers
Then I read with some surprise
About my crime and some french fries

From now on no more salt for me
No sir pepper is all I need
Noodles, popcorn, Margaritas too
Pepper only on all my food

“Racist! Bigot!” the white ones yell
“From our grace you certainly fell”
“Thinking black much better than white”
“We’ll report you because of your spite”

In this jail I sit and rot
Not one bite, no tater tots
No food, no pepper, no salt today
I’ll be dead by Saturday

Sunday came, the papers read
“Bigoted racist finally dead”
“Hated the whites and the black ones too”
“Should have put purple on his food”

Back to Nature

When you first meet Katie Wells, you will notice a number of things about her. But if you are like most, it is her eyes that will draw you in, take hold of you, and lock you in as if you were a prisoner in Paradise.

Magnificent. Startling. Engaging. Mesmerizing. Sensual. Magnetic…

Blue. But not just any blue.

They are two pools of blue. Pools that sparkle. Pools that invite you to dive in and explore. They are as natural blue as the first bubbling spring in the Garden of Eden. Innocent and natural. Created by God Himself.

When I first saw Katie, it was at a gala event. Music and dancing with only the slightest whiff of pretentiousness.

Her eyes beckoned to me. I walked over to her. Besides practically tripping and falling into her eyes, I sensed a natural, clean smell about her. The kind you get after a well-deserved bath.

After a few pleasantries, I couldn’t help myself.

“My dear, I love the natural smell about you. Clean and refreshing.”

She laughed. “I wish,” she said as she pushed back a few strands of impressively blonde hair, exposing dark auburn roots. “It’s called ‘Agua del Bano.’ I picked it up from a street vendor last week.”

I struggled to recover from my faux pas. Something. Anything.

Ah, her dress! A shimmering black flair dress. Sassy. Feminine. Mystical.

“I see you are wearing a Ralph Lauren original?”

“You are too much,” she said, hitting me lightly on the shoulder. “It’s a Ralph Lauren knock off. See?” She lifted the tag on the back of the dress for me to inspect.

“Dolph Lorain?” I sputtered. “Never heard of him.”

“Me neither.”

Her blue eyes beckoned me to continue. So, I did.

“Let me just say you have a beautiful smile.”


“And your eye lashes, like spring butterflies in flight.”


“But you radiate the beauty of youth.”


Her right eye began to twitch ever so slightly. Twitching more. It was red and watering.

“Is everything alright?”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she stomped her right foot on the floor, then the left. Her fists clenched.

“Please. What can I do to help?”

“Damn contacts,” she said through gritted teeth. She brought a finger up to her right eye and quickly dislodged the contact lens, revealing a natural cloudy gray color. Natural as the first cloudy gray day in the Garden of Eden.

Innocent and natural. Created by God Himself.

When Tyrants Retire

“I will crush your armies and burn your cities.”

“You make me laugh, Adolph.” Josef took a sip of his latte.

“I am telling you, you will be calling Germany your mother.” Adolph gingerly lifted the cappuccino to his lips.

“Not a chance! Mother Russia with her very large size fourteen boots will stomp upon you.” A smile cracked under his thick mustache.

Both men looked at each other, sadly.

“Yoseph. Yoseph?” The barrister’s voice was so tiny.

“It is not ‘Yoseph, Yoseph.’ Josef said in mock disdain. “Why can they never get my name right?”

“Double frappucphino latte for Yoseph,” cried the barista weakly.

Josef grumbled as he got up from his chair.

“You got yourself another latte? Did you not get one for me?” Adolph asked quietly.

“Why would I get anything for you? You threaten my homeland. I am ready to kill you and all the people of your country. Go get your own.” Josep stomped away.

The light jazz in the background helped Adolph relax. He found himself humming.

“I changed my mind,” Josef said as he sat down with a thud. He put down two cups and passed one to Adolph.

“For me?”

Josef thought he saw a small tear well up in Adolph’s eyes.

“Yes, for you. We are too old for all this nonsense.”

“Who are you calling old?” Adolph said, his small block of mustache quivering over his lip.

“Let’s face it, we are both old.”

The two men clinked their cups.

“To old times,” Josef said.

“To old men,” Adolph laughed.

The two men drank in silence as a crew of barristers in their dark green smocks began closing for the night.

“I hate this Starbucks,” Adolph said as the two men got to their feet.

“I agree,” said Josef. “Let’s meet at Peet’s Coffee next week.”


The two men shook hands then walked their separate ways into the warm summer evening.

Protest or Die… or Both

“Two hours? We’ve been on the highway for two hours?”

Sarah slammed her head backwards into the headrest repeatedly. “Two hours for a fifteen minute drive? Are you kidding me?”

Roger stared out the front windshield into infinity as protesters rocked the car back and forth.

Sarah rolled the window down.

“Hey, easy on the shock absorbers. We just had those replaced.”

“Screw you, lady!” One of the protesters yelled.

“Oh, that’s a good one. Haven’t heard that since the dumb wads protesting oxygen emissions into the environment near exit 105.”

Someone threw a molotov cocktail that slid across the hood, breaking on the road and sending the protestors running for cover. Roger hit the accelerator and speed through the gap. Sarah turned around to watch the mob cursing at the car as Roger sped ahead, shoulders tensed as the car sped forward. Then it slowed.

“No justice, no peace!”

No more than a few thousand feet ahead, another mob was blocking traffic. This time, a group of people chained together, weeping quietly.

“This is so infuriating!” Sarah screamed. She rolled her window down again as one of the protestors walked by. “And what cause du jour are you folks blocking my trip to sanity for?”

A man with unkempt, thick brown hair and a shaggy matching beard  leaned toward the car and whispered, “we’re standing up for the death of countless trees across the country.”

“You’re standing up for trees by sitting down?” Sarah asked, crinkling her nose as the pungent odor coming from the shaggy man.

“Yes. Ironic, isn’t it?” he shrugged.

Sarah stared out the window. “I don’t believe this. Five protests in sixteen miles. I’m going to go ballistic. Where’s the mace? Did you take the mace out of the glove box?” Sarah opened the glove box and rifled through it. “Where’s the mace?”

Roger slowly turned to his wife. “It’s empty.” You used it on those Mosquitoes’ Rights people last week.” He turned and kept his gaze forward. There was a scuffle in the line.

“Dude, you can’t just go to the bathroom wherever you please,” one of the greasy haired females shook her fist at a passing seagull as she shot up off the ground, chains clinking. “Ugh! Totally disgusting.” She looked around then yelled, “Brad, unlock me. I need to get cleaned up.” A man-bunned male walked over and put a key into a few of the locks as several of the protestors stood up.

“Okay everyone, ten minutes for a stretch break.”

Sarah pointed her finger ahead. “There’s our chance, Roger. Time to move along. Go. Go!”

The next few miles were protest-free causing Sarah to take a deep, relaxing breath. But it was short-lived as yet another protest line popped up on the horizon.

“Run them over, Roger. Run them all over!” she shouted as they got closer. “I have had it with all these bums. These fruit cakes. Run them all over.”

Roger sighed, then slowed the car down as he pulled over to the side of the road.

“What are you doing? Drive through them!” Sarah yelled.

“I’ve had enough,” Roger said as he brought the car to a stop and got out. He grabbed a “Save the Leeches” sign and started walking with the other protesters.

Sarah looked at her husband then at the protest line. She jimmied herself over the center console and into the driver’s seat. She buckled her seatbelt, squinted her eyes, then hit the accelerator hard.