blogs – Page 2 – The Creative Chronicles of Dave Stancliff

How Little Tim Made A Bigfoot Run

Bigfoot

“Did you hear that?” six-year old Tim asked his four-year old brother Tony who was already beneath the blanket.

“Yessss…” Tony groaned.

“Someone’s outside our window. I saw a face.”

Tony’s low groan turned into a high-pitched whine of fear. He was afraid of things that went bump in the night. His active little imagination pictured a loathsome creature intent on eating him and his brother.

Tim pulled the blanket away and slithered down to the carpet. Moving cautiously, he crawled over to the window. Peeked through the lower part. Full moon. Lot’s of shadows. Something was out there.

He didn’t believe in the boogeyman. That was a four-year old’s fear. Nothing to it. But there were other things. Bad things. Bad men. Thieves.

He thought about the baby-sitter in the living room. She probably had her cell phone glued to her ear talking with her dumb boyfriend. He bet she didn’t hear anything. Someone would have to kick the front door down to get her attention, Tim grimly thought.

Just then he spotted a hulking figure picking apples off their tree in the backyard. Tim had sharp eyes. Everyone said that. Right now they were wide open trying to make out what the figure was.

A big man wearing a furry coat? Could be. It could also be something else. Something his dad once told him about living where they did in northern California. “It’s Bigfoot Country,” he told Tim ever since he could remember.

But Mom and Dad said Big Foot was just a legend that everyone liked to talk about in these parts. He was never sure. More than once he caught a couple of oldtimers sitting outside Lud’s General store talking in serious tones about a Big Foot sighting.

Was that the real thing eating their apples out there?

Suddenly he heard the back door open. Then to his utter amazement the babysitter, Lulu, walked right up to the hairy hulk who had stopped eating an apple and turned her way. Before Tim could gasp the hairy thing enveloped her in it’s shaggy arms!

Without thinking, Tim grabbed his baseball bat and ran out the back door. He heard funny noises as he came up on the thing that had Lulu. Babe Ruth, Hank Aaron, Mickey Mantle…all of them would have been proud of Tim the way he weilded that bat!

Screams. Lulu’s high-pitched screech tore the night in half and the Bigfoot made some wounded sounds then staggered off into the forest grunting in pain.

The next day when Tim and his family went to the local football game – his parents were volunteers – there was a short announcement about the school mascot not being able to perform tonight, but don’t worry, the doctor’s said he’ll recover in a week or so.

As It Stands, as the school mascot found out, life is full of surprises.

Man’s Best Friend Has A Secret…Maybe Two

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A very short story for animal lovers today:

When the front door locked and all the lights were turned off, except for the front window display, Seth, the German Shepard (who had the best view), barked once and said, “All’s clear!”

“Just in time too,” said Penelope the Poodle, “I was ready to tell that human to shut up already!”

“Easy with the tough talk missy,” Perry the Pug warned. “You’re supposed to be a sweet little doggie that someone would want to adopt.”

“Blow it out of your ear you stupid pug!” Penelope huffed.

“Both of you take a chilly bone. We don’t want to hear you two argue again all night,” Bob the Beagle interrupted. “Oh look! Larry got out again…”

Just then Larry the Labrador Retriever came around the corner. He stopped in the middle of the aisle and greeted them all; “Told you. No stupid human can keep me locked up if I don’t want to be.”

“Why you calling humans stupid Larry? Bob asked, with his southern drawl. “They feed us, give us a place to live, play with us and if we’re lucky they love us.”

“You know what I like about you Bob?” said Larry.

Bob smushed his snout into the cage door bars and asked, “What?”

“Your an optimist. You also come from a championship litter and humans like that. Take mutts. Mutts usually end up in dog pounds and shelters where their options are; get put down for the endless nap; live their entire life in a five-by-five cage; or someone MIGHT adopt them.”

“You can’t compare pedigree breeds with mutts. We’re bred to be superior, while mutts are usually an accident between two breeds,” Penelope proclaimed in her high (and highly irritating) snooty voice.

“Well, we must be as stupid as humans if that’s the case,” Chico the Chihuahua chimed in.

“Why’s that?” Perry asked.

“This talk about one type of dog being better than another is racist. Just look at the humans. They’re divided up into groups who barely tolerate one another because they look different or have different beliefs,” Chico explained.

Horace, the Blood Hound puppy, had been listening intently to the conversation. He finally spoke up, “Hey guys! How come we don’t talk with humans?”

A stunned silence.

“It’s to our advantage.” Seth said. “We always know what’s on their mind because they don’t think we understand them and speak freely in front of us. It’s way better than trying to read expressions.”

Horace seemed happy with the answer, and snuggled up with his two litter mates.

Larry then made his rounds seeing if any dogs needed anything – a midnight snack? No problem. The place was full of treats. Whenever Larry got adopted someday they’d all miss him.

“It’s nearly time for the human to show up!” Larry warned as he headed back to his cage.

“At least I won’t have to listen to you talk anymore you ugly pug,” Penelope snidely whispered.

As Jean the shop owner unlocked the front door store she thought – just for a moment – that someone said, “Stick it up your ass bitch!”

As It Stands, when I was young I really believed animals could talk and I just wasn’t lucky enough to catch them conversing. It’s a fantasy I still have.

How Bob’s Lyin’ Eyes Led To Doom

Another very short story for your entertainment;

“You can’t hide your lyin’ eyes
And your smile is a thin disguise
I thought by now you’d realize
There ain’t no way to hide your lyin eyes”

The Eagles

Julie and Ben loved their son Bob, but realized at an earlier age he was a consummate liar.

His first word was a lie.

“Did you do that?” Julie asked while pointing at an overturned trash can in the middle of the kitchen.

“No,” the two-year old replied, as he looked directly into her eyes. She didn’t know whether to celebrate that he had spoken his first word, or to be concerned that his first word was a lie. Laugh, or cry?

She decided to laugh that time.

As Bob got older, the lies became more clever. He was blessed with a quick wit and the ability to size up a situation instantly. By grade school, Bob had a bad reputation because he was caught lying numerous times.

Outwardly he was a social guy, had a good sense of humor, and was a quick learner. Despite his tainted reputation, Bob had friends, both male and female. He wasn’t interested in athletics, but was interested in computers from the fourth grade on.

His teachers tolerated his lies, always calling him on them, but they also seemed to like him as a person. By junior high, Bob was a certified nerd. His grasp of computer programing brought him praise from his teacher.

In the 11th grade Bob built his own computer. While scanning the internet one night he came across an article about the dark web. He discovered that there were dark nets – overlay networks which use the internet but require specific software, configurations or authorization to access.

The dark web is not indexed by search engines. This fascinated Bob. He knew right then that he had to get the software and instructions on configurations and authorizations to satisfy his curiosity.

First time visit. Bob found software exploits, weapons for sale, illegal drugs (one of the most popular sellers was a site called Evolution), child porn, how to build bombs, and how to hire a killer.

The second time he visited a chatroom. The discussion was about how well the participants concealed their home-made bombs at Washington High School for tomorrows big surprise. Bob’s high school!

He looked up at the Spiderman clock above his computer. Two a.m. What should he do? What could he do? His eyes returned to the screen as the participants signed off. A video suddenly appeared of Alice Cooper in concert.

He was singing “Schools out Forever!”

“School’s out for summer
School’s out forever
School’s been blown to pieces…”

First choice. Wake mom and dad up. He did. They looked him in the eyes and, as usual, couldn’t tell if he was lying or telling the truth. It was a toss-up. They tried to compromise by telling him they’d talk about it in the morning.

“Go to bed now dear,” His mother said.

“No!” he screeched, “you don’t understand!”

Trying to keep the irritation out of his voice, his dad said, “Go back to bed son. It’s probably a bad dream.”

The End

As It Stands, I’ve always enjoyed the story about the little boy who cried wolf once too often. This is my version of that wonderful tale.

You Can’t Always Get What You Want

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A very short story for your amusement today:

Mick Jagger’s voice somewhere in the night singing “You Can’t Always Get What You Want.”

Drunks staggering out of a bar after last call. Grotesque creatures casting shadows beneath the neon sign of a cowboy riding a horse. They scurry off into the darkness and get into waiting cabs.

Jagger’s voice, high and shrill, emanated from the juke box inside and sent shivers down Alice’s back.

She stands next to the open bar door. Waiting for her taxi that was late. The silky midnight blue dress clung to her amble breasts and hips like a second skin. She clutched a blue satin purse that sparkled with rhinestones.

Alice was fuming. The jackass that had come on to her too heavily in the bar had gotten under her skin. He ended up getting arrested for disturbing the peace. That was hours ago.

Here was the thing. Alice was used to getting what she wanted. As an only child she was spoiled beyond redemption. Throw that in with her natural beauty and you had one headstrong woman.

The jerk backed out of helping finance Alice’s latest tech start-up unexpectedly. He wanted some fringe benefits – as in sex – before he’d spring for any cash. Alice would have preferred to have sex with a camel before letting that greasy little imp touch her.

Looking back.

Alice always got her way. That’s just the way it was all her life. A new dress. As many pets as she wanted. Cash stuffed into her purse from her mother, who wrestling with demons whenever she ran out of booze.

Daddy’s girl. He never said no to her. Even now, at thirty-two years-old, he could not refuse whenever she requested help – financially, emotionally, or otherwise.

Alice was getting ready to go back inside to call the taxi company again when a late-model white Chevy with a Taxi sign strapped onto the roof pulled up. The driver was wearing a baseball cap (Arizona Diamondbacks) sidewise, and had a bushy white beard.

“You’re not City Cab, ” she accused him when he rolled his window down.

“Damn sharp of you to notice that missy!”

“I called City Cab. Why are you here?”

“Us cabbies work together sometimes when it’s really busy. I’m the sole owner of White Cab and I get City Cab’s overflow. Do you want a drive or not?”

Two thoughts in Alice’s mind. One, why did she have to go to such an out-of-the way place tonight? Two, the bar’s owner was locking up, turning off the lights, and walking to his pickup truck. Her options narrowed considerably.

She was alone. Not quite. There was grandpa playing with the car radio searching for a song. Waiting for her to decide what she was going to do. She didn’t have many friends, and none that would driven so far out-of-town (out in the middle of the desert) at 2:00 a.m.

She had no choice. Reluctantly, she opened the rear door (it groaned and made a grinding noise). “Gotta fix that,” the old man said. “Where to?”

Alice hesitated to give out the information, but knew she had to. She gave him the address of her cottage-style three bedroom house in an affluent neighborhood (Paid for. Thanks Daddy!).

She settled into the back seat, cursing her luck. This was not supposed to happen.

Oh hell, no! It was a nice little club with good music and they were going to become partners in an enterprise that would make them both wealthy dot.com wonders. But the ass couldn’t hold his liquor and got sleazy as the night wore on.

When he lunged after her, several men in the bar suddenly appeared and restrained him. The police were called. Her would-be partner was frog-walked out the door between two burly deputies.

Which left her here, in the backseat of some poorly cared for taxi. After awhile she noticed the bright city lights were receding. Not getting closer. The old man was humming something and still fiddling with the radio.

Alarm bells! Something was wrong. “You’re going the wrong way you old duffer! she suddenly cried out.

Just then the old man found the song he was looking for, “You can’t always get what you want…” He turned his head around and slowly peeled off his fake white beard. Then he smiled at her.

The End

As It Stands, the moral of the story is…take a guess?

An Incident On A Chicago Street Corner

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I’ve got a very short story with a twist for you today:

Scene: a street corner in Chicago.

LeVar’s mouth was cotton dry with fear.

He was surrounded by a group of 18th Street Boys showing guns. As a Loco Boy he was fair game and LeVar knew they would toy with him before killing him.

LeVar’s thoughts turned back into his past. He saw his mother and father, alive then, smiling at him and telling him he was a smart boy. He was protective of his little sister Diedre. He was a good son.

A police siren shrieked somewhere nearby. Startled by the sound LeVar looked around him for an opening. There were four of them. Heavily armed, bad ass killers, with no souls. Their dark eyes were pinpoints of hate.

Just yesterday someone warned LeVar that some 18th Street Boys were looking for him. He said quit messing around with one of their women, they’re crazy. He should have listened to his homie.

LeVar rallied his courage. His voice sounded high and almost girlish as he told them he was sorry and that he would give them all a lot of money if they let him live. One of the gang knew who LeVar was. His uncle, who he lived with, was a rich retired athlete.

The possibility that LeVar could come up with a lot of money had them thinking. Silence while LeVar sweated. Waiting for their answer. The leader put his Glock down and walked up to LeVar…breathing in his face he was so close.

We want a million dollars. Tomorrow. Call your uncle. LeVar pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket. In moments his fate would be decided. When his uncle came on the line and he explained the situation his uncle simply said, “Where do they want it delivered?”

A rush of relief that he was going to live made LeVar’s body tremble with joy.

When the police discovered the body of a young black man full of bullet holes on 18th Street, they sighed and went to work on the crime scene. Another death. They knew who did it. What they didn’t know was why.

The End

My apologies to the great American writer Ambrose Bierce who wrote the classic “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge,” one of the most famous and frequently anthologized stories in American literature.

As It Stands, Bierce’s story showed there was no glory in war. My take on it is there’s no glory in being a gangster.

Silence is not Golden: Stand Up To ‘Unite the Right’ Rally

If we work together Love will trump Hate

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Photo Author

Fibonacci Blue from Minnesota, USA

Update: 11:00 a.m. PST – State of emergency as white nationalist rally in Charlottesville turns violent

Thanks to Trump, the alt-rights national recruitment program in America is thriving.

Today, Neo-Nazis and KKKer’s will take over the streets of Charlottesville, Virginia. The event is being called “Unite the Right.” It’s a siren call to fascists, racists, Neo-Nazis, Klan members, and anarchists.

Organizers are expecting 1000 people to attend. Perhaps more, if their pre-rally recruiting did well. Some are calling it the biggest racist rally in recent memory.

While there have been dozens of far-right rallies since Trump’s election, this will be the first major, national rally run by the alt-right’s openly white nationalist wing.

Charlottesville has seen multiple white nationalist rallies this year. The first, a May 2017 daytime event, was followed by a nighttime torchlight photo-op.

Led by alt-right poster boy Richard Spencer, attendees chanted Nazi slogans like “blood and soil.” The second, in July, was a KKK rally.

The white nationalist rallies have been ostensibly held to oppose the removal of a statue of former Confederate Army General Robert E. Lee. But don’t kid yourself; it’s not that the alt-right gives a tinker’s damn about history, but they do know how to exploit it for their agenda.

Some progressive groups will be there to counter-demonstrate. Hopefully, it won’t turn into a riot. Americans are not particularley happy right now with how things are going; the threat of a nuclear war with Korea, and Trump’s racist immigration policies have set the stage for a high level of tension right now.

The last thing this country needs is idealogical warfare turning into massive street fights across the country.

Counterprotests serve as an immediate denucication of a current event – like this hate rally – but they are not the answer to the problem. The answer lies in sharing the truth about these groups.

Exposing the hate in the alt-right movement is not hard to do. Countering it takes more than a one-off protest against a current event. Silence is not golden when it comes to opposing hate.

We all need to voice our oppostion to this wave of hate through whatever means are available to us. Nearly everyone has access to a computer and social media. We can all write our legislators and voice our opinion.

Finally, most importantly, we can all be examples of tolerance by the way we live, and how we interact with others.

As It Stands, call me old-fashioned…but I believe love trumps hate.

Things I Never Thought I’d See

I’ve seen the elephant, but nothing like this!

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I use to watch The Twilight Zone, a television anthology series created by Rod Serling.

The show pushed the limits of reality with psychological horror, fantasy, science fiction, suspense, and psychological thrillers, often concluding with a macabre or unexpected twist, and usually with a moral.

But as strange as Serling’s stories were they pale in the light of our 21st century realities.

Who would have thought America would some day be led by a racist man-child who thought it was okay to grab women’s vaginas?

Who would have thought America would become a laughingstock because we have a narcissist Liar-In-Chief leading us?

Who would have thought we’d be so close to a nuclear war with Korea? It’s a modern day Cuban missile crisis, but we have added the factor of two emotional stunted world leaders threatening each other.

Who would have thought that there would be a renaissance of racism in America in the 21st century, as the alt-right stepped into the lime light after Trump was elected?

Who would have thought that the American people would become so dumbed down by fake news that they would elect a greedy con man president?

Who would have thought something called the internet would change the world?

As It Stands, I’m 66-years old and have “seen the elephant“ as the oldtimers use to say, but nothing compares to today!

White House Stops Press Briefings, Refers Reporters To Fox and Friends

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It’s official.

Since his presidency, Trump has watched Fox and Friends every morning before any security briefings, or news.

Republicans who have sworn fealty to his Orangeness in Office, have decided it’s time to fully submerge themselves in the administrations swamp.

House Republicans introduced a bill making it mandatory for all GOP members to watch Fox and Friends every morning before going about their day. The bill is expected to pass with the current GOP majority in the House and to move on to the Senate without any discussion.

Senate confirmation is a given.

White House staff members – especially the propaganda unit – are busy fighting all the fake news (everyone but Fox and Friends). By canceling all White House Press Briefings, Trump has taken another step to Make America Great again.

This is truly an exciting time for Americans. It’s been nothing but winning, winning, and more winning with Trump at the helm.

But wait! There’s more: All liberals will be required to wear a rainbow ID badge if Lying Ted Cruz has his way. He’s attached a rider to the Fox and Friends Bill that looks like it’ll go unchallenged.

As It Stands, you are now leaving the Twilight Zone, or just woke up from a nightmare!

Now What? Everyone’s on Vacation

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One of the reasons that I have a blog is I like to write about politics.

But I’m up against a wall right now. Trump and Congress are on vacation, regardless of what Trump claims. That leaves less options. But there’s still news.

For example.

A federal climate report says the United States is already feeling the effects of climate change, with temperatures rising dramatically over the last four decades.

That’s according to The New York Times, which acquired a draft copy of the report by scientists from 13 federal agencies. But don’t expect to see it.

Trump has made it clear he doesn’t believe in climate change. His administration is going to review the study and then make a recommendation. Do you want to guess what’s going to happen with that report?

It’s going to get filed in the round file, aka trash. That based upon what Trump has said and done, like getting out of the Paris Climate Accord which was signed by nearly every country in the world.

Here’s an perfect example of what science is up against: The Trump administration’s solution to climate change: ban the term

Moving on.

The U.S. is getting sucked into a nasty little war between the Philippine government and an ISIS affiliate who captured the city of Marawi. It’s a siege situation right now. We’ve given limited support thus far.

And on.

I read that USA Today is tracking Trump’s real estate deals, and readers are invited to help.

Since winning the Republican nomination, Trump’s businesses have sold at least 32 luxury condos and home lots for about $20 million to shell companies that shield the identities of buyers.

The identities of people paying Trump’s companies for real estate may come under a microscope as the special counsel investigating Russian meddling in the 2016 election expands his probe to examine Trump’s business transactions.

As It Stands, the best show in the house is always Trump, and our bumbling Congress.

An Old Expression/Response That Will Leave You laughing

portrait me & shirley

Got a big smile going on today?

If not, allow me to toss out a few crumbs of jocularity for your entertainment.

My wife and I (photo) have been married 43 years as of August 31st. We’ve stayed together this long because we communicate and both have a good sense of humor.

One night, I remembered an old expression my Dad used and spontaneously decided to share it in a moment of frustration.

It was one of the funniest expressions for exasperation I ever heard. More on that in a moment. To this day, it still ranks in my top three retorts.

History. The whole family was in the car driving to the beach (1960) and my mother was thoroughly breaking Dad’s chops over trivial things:

“Why can’t you speed up and go around that idiot?”

“Why are you slowing down… the lights still yellow?”

The four of us kids were in the back seat, forced to hear the constant pick, pick, pick of my mother’s complaints. This went on for nearly an hour before Dad could no longer hold it in anymore.

It was a quick retaliatory response. Stunning in its directness;

“Margaret… would you shut up? Your ass sucks canal-water!”

There was a stunned silence, then we kids burst out laughing. My mother didn’t seem to have a response. She made funny little gurgling sounds (they may have been growls). I had trouble getting my breath, I was laughing so hard.

A moment in time.

Which brings us up to the time when my wife, Shirley, and I were working on putting together Christmas toys for our three boys. Bikes and benches. Hundreds of screws and nuts and bolts. No sleep until the job was done.

It was a recipe for disaster. For whatever reason I blurted out, “Your ass sucks canal-water!” At first I thought she was going to throw a wrench at me. But, to my surprise, she burst out laughing and wanted to know where I heard that expression?

With pride, I said my dad and told her the story. When it was over she said “That’s cute. Now don’t you ever say that in front of our boys!”

So much for tradition.

As It Stands, life is full of laughs, you just have to recognize when.

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Fibonacci Blue from Minnesota, USA

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