Marriage

Will he or won’t he

She thought day after day.

Marriage was so near, yet so far away.

Autumn fell to winter then

Spring burst in the air.

Their love was still burning

But why was there still fear.

To those who went before them

Such fear is not unique.

To love is very simple

To marry is to seek,

A lover and perhaps a friend

A partner who can pretend

To show no pain despite the ache,

And long for rest yet stay awake.

To make a vow, and take an oath

To be just one, but cherish both.

 

 

Style for the Infantile

I’ve been thinking about layettes. For those of you who have never thought about layettes, I’ll describe them for you. A layette is the first fashion wardrobe given to a new  born child. It is usually a blanket, pillow case, booties, sweater, panties and assorted accessories. If handmade, the layette is crochet or knitted.

Boy babies are given blue layettes, and girl babies are clothed in pink. Sometimes, the infant is given a yellow layette. Yellow why yellow?? That is because the layette was purchased prior to the birth of the child. There is no explanation for the yellow color, other than to match a rather jaundiced complexion.

There has not been a change in layette fashions for a thousand years! It is now time for a change. I suggest the opening of a “Layette Boutique”.

The fashions for layettes will be regal. A parent can buy yards of rich, black mink to wrap the baby. Hand  crafted, calf skin booties and jewelry of all sorts; gold earrings, precious stone necklaces, pearl head  bands. No more washed out blue or faded pink. The maternity doors of Bellevue Hospital open and a little prince or princess is presented to the world.

Another issue comes to mind, and that is the contrasting styles of death and dying as opposed to birth and living. Mourning families are led by police motorcycles, followed by flower cars and shining black limousines. Mourners are dressed in their finery. Who comes out of the hospital with a newborn? The father goes to the hospital and pays for his wife and child. The wife is weak, and whoosy. She hasn’t been out of the hospital for days. Her head is spinning. Father doesn’t know how, or who to hold first.

They drive home, alone, no fanfare and no public acclaim. When they arrive at home there is frequently a family gathering, but rather subdued    no grandeur, no cops, no politicians, no theatrics.

Why not beep the horns, ring the sirens, shoot the pistols. A child is born. A child wrapped in silk, magnificent Tahitian silk. Joy to the world. A child is born. Whose got the pampers???

 

A Foreign Language

Customer: I would like to buy a pair of jeans.

Clerk: Certainly. I can show you our latest Sassoons.

Customer: No, I don’t think so.

Clerk: But they are the latest fashion.

Customer: Oh. I didn’t realize that.

Clerk: Perhaps you would like to try our Jordach model.

Customer: No. I’m afraid not.

Clerk: We do have a nice selection of Clouds.

Customer: You do not seem to understand. I would like a pair of jeans.

Clerk: Sir, I do understand. I understand you perfectly well. That is why I have showed you the Sassoons, the Jordaches and the Clouds.

Customer: I know that, but I want jeans!

Clerk: Alright! I am doing my best, I assure you sir.

Customer: Excuse me. I did not mean to make you angry. I need a pair of jeans, and I had no idea that it would be so difficult to purchase a pair.You do have jeans, don’t you?

Clerk: Sir, we are the largest seller of jeans in New York.

Customer: Fine. May I please see some jeans.

Clerk: Of course, of course.

Customer: Great!

Clerk: We have just received a shipment of Wranglers.

Customer: That’s it!! I have never seen anyone so determined to lose a    sale!

Clerk What are you talking about?

Customer: What am I talking about? What a laugh! I came to buy jeans.      I have repeatedly asked you for a pair of jeans, and you refuse to sell          me any. That is what I am  talking about!!

Clerk: Sir, I am completely confused.

Customer: Well, I’ll make it simple. I would like to buy a pair of jeans.    That’s J  E  A  N  S! Will you, or won’t you sell my any??

Clerk: You’re damn right I will. What is your size!

Customer: 34 waist, and 32 long.

Clerk: Fine!

Customer: Great!

Clerk: How about Vera?

Customer: What?

Clerk: Vanderbilts!?

Customer: Who?

Clerk: Bonjour?

Customer: Au revoir!

 

My Gut Tells Me…

 

“My gut tells me” and then Michael Smerconish, radio commentator, continued to respond to a caller’s question. The caller spoke about the new union of ATT and Warner, and some consequences for citizens and Comcast. Michael initially said that he was not very familiar with the but, “My gut tells me,” and Michael gave his opinion.

Let us talk about ‘gutsy’ talk. Michael is not the only person to have ever expressed, ‘my gut tells me’. Everything we think or feel does not have to come from “I think” or “my heart tells me.” Sometimes we feel things deeper, or at least more deeply than from the heart. Sometimes we can’t just shut-up.
Back to ‘my gut tells me.’ At a joint meeting of the Chiefs of Staff in the Spring of 1945, President Truman was told about the Atom Bomb. Harry initially expressed his ignorance about uranium and plutonium. He did receive many memos about the technology of the bomb, but he once stated to an aide, is ‘fusion the same as fission, or are they just spelling errors?’ The aide thought that President Truman was just joking, but in fact he was not joking. The President was not at all clear about the technology, use, and consequences of the atom bomb, but one thing for sure. Straight talking Harry knew when his ‘gut’ talks to him, and he approved the use of the bombs.

“Mr. Senator, sir would you please tell us your stand on the bill on abortion.” said the reporter.

Senator X reflects on the reporter’s question about abortion. “Well to tell you the truth”, (reporter interrupts)

“Yes Senator, I would like the truth.”
“As I was saying prior to your rather rude interruption, I am not that familiar with the particulars of the actual, real process of abortion, but I have a feeling that..”
(reporter interrupts again)
“Sir if you are not familiar with abortion how can you vote on the issue. How?”

“Miss, if you would please allow me to finish my statement. I was just going to say that in my heart of hearts, and in my guts, the whole idea sounds pretty disgusting. I mean really ugly. I have feelings, you know. And my guts (whole package of guts) tell me, even without all the particulars that it is not right, G-D be praised.

All too often when we are questioned about an issue, and we believe that we should aware of the issue, we have the fallback position of affably expressed ignorance, followed by ‘my gut tells me’ and offer a full-blown exposition rooted in ‘I think’ or ‘my heart tells me.’

 

On Being Presidential

 

Recently newspapers have printed the diagnosis of narcissism as it applies to President Trump. Increasing numbers of psychologists have identified narcissistic characteristics in the President’s behavior. Professional mental health persons fear professional liability, ethical concerns or career damaging responses if they offer an illness label without interviewing the person. Once upon a time we did not have labels for mental illness. There was a time when one could say, if it “walks like a duck, and quakes like a duck, it’s a duck.” So let us look for a “duck, ” and we might find a raving “malignant narcissist.”

During a search, I have found the following clues to our diagnostic mystery. Our President has said:

“I could stand in the middle of 5th Avenue and shoot somebody and I wouldn’t lose voters.” “I take out  those ads to wake up the Government…” “Then what does all this…the yacht, the bronze tower, the casinos really mean to you? Props for the show!”  “The show is Trump and it is sold-out performances everywhere.” “I play to people’s fantasies.” “If I put my name on something you know it’s going to be good!”

“I know words, I have the best words!” “I’m rich, therefore I tell the truth.” “But my primary consultant is myself and I have a good instinct for this stuff.” “I know far more about foreign policy” than Obama. “I’m speaking with myself, number one, because I have a very good brain and I’ve said a lot of things.” “I will demand anything I can get.

“When you’re doing business, you take people to the brink of breaking them without having them break, to the maximum point their heads can handle without breaking them”. “Islamic terrorism is eating large portions of the Mideast. They’ve become rich. I’m in competition with them.” “I’m the least racist person that you have ever met…”

“Every successful person has a very large ego. Every successful person? Mother Teresa? Jesus Christ? Far greater egos than you will ever understand.” “When the students poured into Tiananmen Square, the Chinese government almost blew it. Then they were vicious, they were horrible, but they put it down with strength.”
“I will absolutely apologize if I’m ever wrong.” Please do not hold your breath.

The Lawful Traffic Violation

 

 

Location: Hillside Ave. Cresskill, N.J. Approx. 2:30 am. November night.

Cast: Town policeman,and Tom, a resident of a neighboring town.

Tom is driving toward his home when he sees in his rear view mirror the flashing lights of a police car. Tom pulls over to the side of the avenue. After several moments,the Policemen approaches the car shinning a flashlight into the face of Tom.

Policeman:  May I see your  drivers license?

Tom: Officer, did I do something wrong?

Policeman:  Your license please.

Tom: Certainly. ( he removes his wallet from his jacket pocket.  The officer moves  a step back from the door of the car,and places his right hand on his holster. Tom removes the license from the wallet and hands it to the officer.)

Policeman: ( The officer reaches out for the license, while still standing away from the car. Officer reads the information on the license). Do you know the speed limit on this street?

Tom: Yes.

Policeman: What is it, Mr. Tom Niller?

Tom: Miller, that’s Miller.

Policeman: It says Niller.

Tom: I know officer, but they made a typing error.

Policeman: Do you have another form of identification? (Miller reaches for his wallet). Forget it. Let me see your auto registration.

Tom: Well this isn’t my car. It’s my fathers car. I am just using it for several days.

Policeman. The registration please. ( Miller hands over the registration. Officer is looking at the registration.) What is the speed limit on this road, Mr. Miller?

Tom: I believe it is 25 miles per hour.

Policeman:  Do you know what speed you were driving?

Tom: About 25 miles per hour. Sometimes  I was driving slower, but mostly I was going 25 miles per hour.

Policeman:  How come?

Tom: What?

Policeman:  How come you were driving exactly 25 miles per hour?

Tom: Well it wasn’t exactly 25, but that is the speed limit, isn’t it?

Policeman:  Yes it is, but that’s not the point. Why were you driving at 25 mph.?

Tom: That’s the limit officer. I don’t understand what you want.

Policeman: Have you ever been on this road before?

Tom: Yes.

Policeman:  How fast have you driven before?

Tom: Probably the same as tonight.

Policeman:  Never 30, or 40 or maybe 55 mph?

Tom: No, I don’t speed.

Policeman:  And why did you signal a left turn?

Tom: Because I was going to turn left, sir.

Policeman:  Was there any car near you, or behind you?

Tom: I didn’t notice.

Policeman: Well, there wasn’t . I was watching you, and there wasn’t another auto in sight.

Tom: Officer, I don’t understand all the questions. What did I do wrong?

Policeman:  Maybe nothing, and maybe more than you think.

Tom: What are you talking about? Are you going to ticket  me, because if not, I want to go home.

Policeman: Relax, Mr. Miller. Do you mind stepping out of the car?

Tom: Why?. Tell me why do I have to leave my car?

Policeman: Mr. Miller, please do as I say. It’s just routine.

Tom: It’s not  routine in my town.

Policeman: There is no need to get wise.

Tom: I’m sorry, but this is really ridiculous.

Policeman: Please step out of the car.

(Tom opens the door and steps onto the roadway. The Policeman shines the flashlight on the front seat, and on the floor of the drivers side of the auto.)

Tom: May I go now officer?

Policeman: Please empty your pockets, Mr. Miller.

Tom: Why?

Policeman: Just empty your pockets, Mr. Miller.

Tom: No way am I emptying my pockets. Forget it!

Policeman: Are you refusing my request for you to empty your pockets?

Tom: You better believe it, and furthermore….

Policeman: Alright then, will you please open the trunk?

Tom: What the hell are you doing?

Policeman: I simply want you to empty your pockets, or at least open your trunk.

Tom: Well I refuse to do either, and are you giving a ticket or I’m going home.(Tom starts to re-enter his car).

Policeman: (somewhat pleading) No wait. Don’t go back into your car. I just want to be sure that you are not carrying drugs, that’s all.

Tom (Nervous): Well why didn’t you ask me. No I’m not carrying any drugs.

Policeman: How do I know that?

Tom: Because I told you. You just have to take my word for it.

Policeman: But you were driving very suspiciously, do you realize that?

Tom: I was driving at the speed limit, and I signaled at turns. What is suspicious about that.

Policeman:  It is never done on this road. No one drives under 35mph. Unless they see a police car. And as for signaling, your last turn doesn’t even require a signal, but you did anyway . How come?

Tom: I’m a very defensive driver, especially when I feel defensive. (Tom realizes that he may have made a fatal admission).

Policeman: You’re right, Mr. Miller. If I was carrying drugs I would drive very defensively, and obey all traffic rules.

Tom: But I’m not carrying any drugs.

Policeman: I know that, I was just thinking that your careful, slow driving was something I would do if I was carrying drugs – just thinking.

Tom: Officer you sound like a decent guy. All I want to do is go home.

Policeman: You will go home. I didn’t say you were under arrest did I?

Tom: Officer I am really sorry if I did something wrong. If I did please write the ticket and let me go.

Policeman: One last time. Mr. Miller are you in possession of any illegal substance or any paraphernalia?

Tom: Sir, I have no drugs or anything else.

Policeman: Is that the truth?

Tom: Yes, honestly.

Policeman: You can go, Mr. Miller. But I must tell you that you were mighty close to crossing the line.

Tom: What line?

Policeman: I don’t think I have to say more. Goodnight Mr.Miller.

(Tom gets into his car and drives slowly away. In his rear view mirror he sees the officer making a U-turn with red lights blazing, chasing a car on the avenue.)

Syria – What Can We Do?

 

What can we do about Syria? We can allow an increase in the numbers of Syrian refugees into the United States. In 2016, 12,486 Syrian refugees entered the United States. If all 50 states accepted refugees from Syria, that would be just 250 persons per state. A modest proposal. I would suggest that we increase the state amount to 500 in the year 2017. Increase that to 1000 Syrian refugees per state for every following year. For the fearful, we will investigate each refugee to be certain that we have not allowed “bad guys” into the country. As of this memo, there has not been one case of a Syrian refugee committing a terrorist act in 2017.

With such a civil refugee policy in place, we can sit back and finally feel good.

 

 

The Drone Story

 

The U.S. Naval vessel, Bowditch, was about to recover the drone glider when a Chinese Dalang III class Chinese warship approached within 500 yards of the Bowditch, launched a small vessel and snatched the drone out of the water,

Oh where, oh where has my little Drone gone, oh where can it be? With it’s nose so round, and it’’s tail so short, oh where, oh where can it be? I think it went down, to the bottom of the sea, to see what it could see. And in it’s head, with a lite so bright, I wonder what it could see. I saw it last by a Chinese boat, going round and round, but I can’t see it anymore. It can’t seem to be found. Perhaps the men over there will know. They may have seen it go by. Who knows where it may have decided to go, but we have to give it a try. So I said:” Oh where, oh where has my little drone gone, and they said:

哦,在哪裡哦我的小無人機走了,哦在哪裡可以

Please No More

 

 

The news broadcasters of every stripe are dizzy with breaking news. Presidential news that is characterized as unique, unusual and always “shooting from the hip.” Yes,  the Donald does say one of a kind announcements, such as he can grab any “p—-y that he wants. He could walk down Fifth avenue in New York and shoot someone and no one will be disturbed. Crazy President Obama taps the Donald’s telephone. If not tapping the phone than Crazy Obama spies on  the Donald. If not spying, perhaps President Obama belittles the Donald during Obama dinners. Donald shoots from the hip, and kills all moral, and ethical standards. Would a hip replacement relieve our angst? The Donald is truly a disturbed man. No single diagnosis will suffice, and a psychiatric label is unnecessary. The Donald is a born again Grossingers Hotel master of ceremonies. The Donald is the original tin man. A man who speaks, bada, bee, bada boo talk. That is street talk for Broadway Johnnies. Donald could be the ring master at the Ringling circus, but the circus has closed. The Donald could be the chief barker at the Otsego County Fair in August of 2017. The Donald is without any shame – without any sense of humility. The Donald froze at 12 years of age. How is it possible for any sane commentator to deal with the insanity that the Donald pronounces? As for the citizenry , we are overwhelmed by a national post traumatic stress disorder. We wonder if what we hear from the White House is true, fake, or produced by Russian hackers. We argue with one another and vigorously defend a position, that is rooted in confusion, and emotional longing for truth, fairness and a sense of well-being. We turn on the television, listen for minutes, and then realize that we are submerged in a morass of deceit, or self-aggrandizement. Through it all the Great Barrier Reef is disappearing, Mosel, and Aleppo are no more. Men, women and children throughout the world are starving to death. The glaciers fall into the sea, and cold water Codfish is near extinction.

 

He Went That-a-Way

 

Just last week, the aircraft carrier Vinson, and assorted support vessels made a wrong turn, or perhaps a right turn and was sailing toward the Indian Ocean and not towards North Korea as announced by the President and military staff. At least they could turn around, and threaten North Korea just one week late. Not a big deal. I can imagine a big deal. When the B-52 bombers are deployed to the Korean peninsula, and find their coordinates have them circling over Brisbane, Australia, that could be troublesome. Then if the President decides with the support of his most trusted advisors, that is, daughter Ivanka, son-in-law Jared and Nephew Harold (a poli-science student at Choate Prep. School) to drop several “Don’t Tread on Me” propaganda leaflets the Australians could mistake the event as aggressive. They are even capable of shooting down a B-52 bomber. Should that scenario occur, we could immediately apologize, and re-route the rest of the planes over Taiwan. Drop the rest of the leaflets, and then go to home base in Sri Lanka– Oh we made a mistake. “Captain I meant to say Shreveport” “Captain, not Sri Lanka, go to Louisiana -turn around, turn around immediately.” While turning the plane around the Captain notices the remains of an airplane with Malaysian markings. The Captain decides to take a closer look, and then, and then …. all signals go dead.

 

 

Jones Beach Blues

 

 

GW Bridge is kinda slow.
Only place the car can go.
Three dollar toll for just one mile.
Toll collectress just can’t smile.
I Got The Jones Beach Blues

Whitestone or the Throgs Neck bridge
Which span will it be.
Two bucks,twenty -five, no difference to me.
I Got the Jones Beach Blues.

We’re doing 60 for one-half mile.
Then 55 for quite a while.
The cars begin to rubber neck.
A smokey and a caddy wreck.
I Got the Jones Beach Blues.

Down the road we travel on,
N.Y. cities’ come and gone.
The L.I.E. is up ahead.
We rap on about the “Dead”.
I Got the Jones Beach Blues.

All those cars just full of meat.
To the beach to beat the heat.
The L.I.E.’s a parking lot,
Just saw a Vette a-smoking pot.
I Got the Jones Beach Blues.

The sign reads Jones Beach on the right.
Take the Meadowbrook, we’re both uptight.
The drives been long and mighty hot.
Ya gotta love the beach alot.
I Got the Jones Beach Blues.

Three – fifty more and the ocean’s mine.
That will leave us just a dime.
I Got the Jones Beach Blues.

We rip on thru the toll booth lite,
Lot # 4 – its outta sight.
The crowd is huge – the beach is packed.
Boxes boom – Hey grease my back!
I Got the Jones Beach Blues.

We get some rays – a coke and beer.
Our Jones Beach day until next year.
I Got the Jones Beach Blues.

 

Forget Bi-Partisan

 

I am in favor of partisan politics. Partisan politics reveals character, views, personal history, biases, prejudices, and profound commitments. Partisan polemic allows us to realize the meaningless of such phrases as ‘my dear Friend from Georgia’, or my honorable Senator Doe, or my Dear colleague on the other side of the aisle. Other side of the aisle is code for ‘other side of the tracks, or wrong side of town, or just plain other side.

Partisan commentary allows us to hear the unvarnished, unadulterated principles that characterize a political figure.  The partisan comments announce the heart-felt biases, and systemic private allegiances of the politician. The truth and nothing but the truth, so help my prejudices. We should welcome the partisan perspective in order to better understand the opponent. We should demand complete partisan expression, since only then can we accurately assess the person, and run for cover, or attack as only a partisan can.

Be wary of the politician who is devoted to bi-partisan rhetoric. Such politicians have an appeal in that they seem to favor progress, and to avoid gridlock. They appear to seek cooperation, and accommodation. How did that politician rid himself of spinal character traits, familial history, and color perception? Beware, and never forget  Goldilocks.

All is not lost, in that frequently the Partigiano win. They win even though much heartache was endured. Remember the Alamo!

Sources

 

Just today, the White House announced that a source had revealed that the latest information from the EPA was not true as reported. The source was credited with having been the source for other important disclosures, yet suspected for leaks of classified information. At the same time, the Justice Department had credible information from a highly-qualified official, that refuted the source material that was given to the Department of Defense, as well as the EPA. During the disputed disclosures, a unimpeachable informant from the HSA refused to acknowledge the accuracy of the original source material.

 

Finally, after a great deal of investigation, and disclosures from persons that knew the original source, do we now know the actual source of the original report. Believe it or not, it was Harry. We have been told that Harry, is just a cover name, for person, or possibly persons that had attended the secret meeting under question. Finally, we can close the chapter on that issue, and look to sources that have not yet surfaced.

 

Recipe for Sources…
In an unused CD or Tape, mix one half hour of gossip. A few minutes of deceit, and a pinch of illicit. After a moment of blank time, add 33 seconds of envy, and just 1 minute of power. To spice up the mix, put just 10 seconds of innuendo, but just be careful not to overdo the innuendo. If you must, due to your ‘joy of cooking’, finish the sauce with 2 full minutes of total fantasy. The Source will serve both sides of “The Aisle” and satisfy none. While listening, be close to the John.

 

 

Please Tell Me Something

Poor Chris Hayes of MSNBC. Chris tried to interview Carter Page, but without success. Years ago, Captain Page was interviewed in a military debriefing:

“Officer Page, what did you see at the airport?”
“ Sir, Yes I did.”
“Officer Page, what was it that you saw during the raid
“ That depends on what is of interest.”
“ Officer Page, can you please explain to us why 15  of your men were killed that night?’
“ Sir, you know that some operations are confidential, and rightfully so.”
“  Officer Page, we understand, but you are our only source of information. Every other man is dead.!”
“  Sir, you are correct. Every man was killed.”
“ And?”
“  I trust that you can appreciate the need for privacy. The event was clearly tragic.”
“   Page, I am asking you straight up. I want a straight answer.”
“  Okay. I understand.”
“  Can I be perfectly honest, Captain?”
“  Of course – certainly.”
“  Were you or were you not at the airport?”
“  The airport?”
“  Yes, Captain. Were you at the airport during the raid?”
“  The airport. Yes, I believe I was at the airport. I think I can say I was there.
“  I take that to mean you were there.  Great! While you were at the airport were you party to the raid?”
“  Sir, I will tell you without hesitation that was no party.”
“  Captain, you know what I mean. This is serious. You clearly cannot respond to simple questions, can you?”
“  That is not true.
“  Alright then. Tell me what happened at the airport during the raid.
“  Sir. You are asking me to tell you information that can be misinterpreted.
“  Captain. I am slowly, but rest assured becoming troubled by your responses.”
“  Sir, I am only trying to offer the best to my recollection.
“  I understand. Captain. As best as you can recall, please tell us what you saw during the raid at the airport.
“  Well, I mean I was at the airport, but not very long. During the raid 15 of my men were killed.”

“  Go on Captain. Go on.
“   What is it that you want me to say?
“   Captain, are you serious? Do you really not understand my questions?
“   Sir, I understand fully, and as I said personal observations and feelings are difficult to  remember after time.
“  Captain, it is less than one year since the raid. I will stop now. You might not believe me, but I am quite sympathetic to your situation. I am pleased you came to testify. It cannot be easy.
“  Sir, you are right about that.”
“   I am right about what?”
“  Sir, I can sure use some sympathy. Every time I talk to people they think I am hiding something. They think I am being uncooperative.”
“  Captain, I must be honest with you. I am not a dentist, nor do I like Dentists, but getting answers from you is like pulling teeth. I refuse to be responsible for you needing dentures. Dismissed.

 

 

 

 

Shinny Rocks (aka: Sea Glass)

SHINNY ROCKS (a.k.a. Sea Glass)

Joshua lived by the shores of Lake Erie. Every morning he walked with his friends along the shore and they searched for shinny rocks. The shinny rocks that they found were pieces of beautiful colored glass. The glass was made so smooth by the waters of the lake.

Joshua saved his rocks in an empty Skippy Butter jar that he had on his dresser. Every evening before going to bed Joshua separated the shinny rocks into piles. Some piles had the same color, and other piles were small shinny rocks, and others were bigger rocks. Before he went to sleep, Joshua placed the most beautiful shinny rocks in an old sock that his Grandpa gave to him. Each one was like a jewel, and so hard to find. Purple, orange, red, and black were the best but, blue and green were also special. The rocks in the sock were his favorites, and he would never give them away, or even trade them with his friends.

Many children who lived by the lakefront collected the shiny rocks, except for his neighbor, Francis. Francis couldn’t walk along the shore, because Francis was bound to a wheel chair. When Francis was born he had a disease and he was never able to walk like the other children. Every morning, Francis would sit on his porch, and watch the other children search for shinny rocks.

Francis had a pet goldfish. The goldfish was a beautiful orange color – just like a Halloween pumpkin. The goldfish was named Pumpkin. Each morning, Francis would take Pumpkin in the fish bowl and sit and watch the children searching the shore for shinny rocks. Francis really wanted to go down to the shore and search for the rocks with his friend.

Each morning when Joshua came back from the beach, he would stop to show Francis the rocks that Joshua collected. Francis was so happy to see, and touch the shiny rocks. The boys were such good friends.

One day when Joshua was walking back from the beach,  he saw that Francis was not sitting on the front porch. Joshua went to the rear of Francis’s house. Seated in his wheelchair under a big oak tree was Francis. Joshua walked over to say good morning. Joshua saw that Francis was crying. As Joshua got closer, he noticed that the fish bowl was empty. On Francis’s lap was Pumpkin the goldfish. Francis told Joshua that Pumpkin died last night. Joshua said that he was very sorry. Francis wanted to bury Pumpkin in the yard, and Joshua offered to help. Joshua went into his garage and got a small garden shovel. Joshua dug a small hole next to the trunk of a big oak tree. Joshua took Pumpkin from Francis and placed Pumpkin in the hole. Joshua put the soil on top of Pumpkin. Francis was crying so hard. Joshua told Francis that he had a big surprise and that he would return in a minute

Joshua went into his house, and returned in a few minutes to Francis. Joshua had his Grandpa’s sock in his hand. Joshua opened the sock and poured several of the very best of the jewel-like rocks on top of the grave. Joshua put a blue, orange, pink and peach rock on the soil. Francis stopped crying, and he smiled such a big smile. He never saw such beautiful shinny rocks. Joshua also smiled, and he held the hand of Francis.

The next day, Francis’ father decided to bring Francis down to the water’s edge to be with his friends. The wheelchair became stuck in the sand, and all the children helped carry the chair to the water’s edge. Joshua came over to Francis and when Francis was not looking, Joshua took a green rock out of his pocket, and secretly dropped the rock in front of the wheelchair. Francis noticed the rock and reached for it, and as he did he fell out of the chair onto the sand. Francis was so excited; he wasn’t even hurt by the fall.

Seeing how happy Francis was, Joshua once again secretly dropped another shinny rock a few feet away from Francis. Francis saw the rock and he crawled over to the rock.  He shouted for joy. All the children were watching. Francis’s Father was so happy for Francis. Joshua continued to secretly place his rocks further down the beach, and Francis excitedly crawled to collect his new found treasure. He never saw that it was Joshua who was placing the rocks for Francis to find.

On the beach was a very big tree trunk that had been swept to shore by a storm. Joshua placed a magnificent bright red shinny rock on the top of the trunk.  The rock was high up on the trunk. Francis saw the beautiful red rock. To get the rock, Francis had to grab onto the branches on the tree trunk and pull himself up to a standing position. He had to use all of his strength to pull himself up.  With all his might, he finally reached the shiny rock. Francis was fully standing for the first time in his life. His Father, and all the children cheered for Francis. Joshua cheered the loudest, and the longest. He truly loved his friend Francis.