Author Mike OConnor: Some say...

Author Mike OConnor: Some say...: The darkness didn’t go away at sunrise but seemed to stay a shade of gray for the third day now. Flowering bushes stayed without color c...

Some say...

The darkness didn’t go away at sunrise but seemed to stay a shade of gray for the third day now. Flowering bushes stayed without color craving the sunlight but getting none. Childrens faces pressed against the window glass were bored and anxious to go outside watching their swingset without movement and other toys sit unattended.

About noon on the sixth-day silent ash began to fall from the sky. It came to rest on everything leaving the outside world looking like one giant landscape of gray. Ugly and for what purpose? Was it a weapon of mass destruction some wondered, while others said it was a sign from God but again, for what purpose?

On the tenth day, the skies were the blackest of black so much so lights couldn’t penetrate it and some feared the end was upon them. Without warning, the rain began to fall. It poured down so hard the noise was almost unbearable as children clasped their hands over their ears and adults were shaken to the core. With the rain came a cleansing that washed away the ash creating flowing rivers of gray soon followed by clear raging rivers that emptied into the vast ocean.

The eleventh day brought back the sunlight to the joy of children and parents alike. Swingsets and toy tractors were back in operation as were hanging the laundry outside and the roar of lawnmowers. Grills were fired up and the smells of summer filled the air. Life went on but the feelings of the ten days of darkness lingered on for a long time. No one could explain it although many speculations ran amock creating conversation at picnics and pool parties.

Some say high upon the highest of mountains God wanted to get our attention so he cried tears on a campfire spewing ash to all below. Some say he left the ash and the darkness for ten days as a reminder we can not take anything for granted, that life as we know it is not guaranteed. Some say he reached into the heavens and squeezed a thousand rain clouds on the eleventh day to wash away the darkness, and life returned to normal. Some say it will never be normal again.

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Author Mike OConnor: Holiday cart parade

Author Mike OConnor: Holiday cart parade: The low humming of a golf cart gets louder and the colored lights glow brighter as yet another senior citizen's yearly entry into the...

Holiday cart parade

The low humming of a golf cart gets louder and the colored lights glow brighter as yet another senior citizen's yearly entry into the festival of lights takes a lap around the park. Most of the passengers have a drink in hand as they sing along with the Christmas songs of long ago blaring on a portable radio attached by bungee-cords

It’s a yearly tradition that grows or shrinks in number depending on how many passed on before the parade and how many new residents came to live here. Alot goes into the decorations on the carts each unique in its own way. One old guy hung empty liquor bottles entirely around the top of his cart with a spotlight shining on them while “I DRINK ALONE” blasted from a boom box.

I get a front-row seat every year for this little parade and it never disappoints. Last year I escaped injury when a senior lady took too long a swig from her tall drink and missed hitting me by inches. She did take out a couple of my plants before getting back on course laughing all the way.

A few of the drivers decided that they would tie their carts together and string lights completely around all the carts. It looked nice standing still but, when they all took off in different directions, it became a tangled mess of carts and lights. How nobody gets hurt in this holiday demolition derby is beyond me.

As I sit and wave as they pass by, I can't help but think how these older folks must be having the time of their now mostly quiet lives. The smiles on their faces and joy in their voices must somehow transform them to the days long past when feeling young came with no effort, unlike the present when for at least one night under the glow of colored lights they are once again just a bunch of kids having fun

Each year I tell myself next year I'll enter the parade but I'll have to get a cart and convince myself that I'm through riding motorcycles. I don’t know which one is more dangerous, or fun. Time will tell.


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Author Mike OConnor: Gingerbread

Author Mike OConnor: Gingerbread: The smell of gingerbread baking filled the house with memories of holidays past when the family would fill the table, and laughter was t...

Gingerbread

The smell of gingerbread baking filled the house with memories of holidays past when the family would fill the table, and laughter was the joy of the season.

Being with friends and making new ones ringing in the new year in basement bar rooms scattered throughout the normally quiet neighborhoods of my home.

Postcards of silent nites that could have been the street I lived on. My winter holidays will forever burn brightly in my memories of days long forgotten by most but remain with me like the smell of gingerbread baking.

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Author Mike OConnor: THE WALK

Author Mike OConnor: THE WALK: THE SNOWFLAKES FELL TO EARTH SO SOFTLY THEY SEEMED MORE LIKE FEATHERS. THE STREETS WERE ALL BUT EMPTY THIS COLD DECEMBER NIGHT.AS FAR AS...

THE WALK

THE SNOWFLAKES FELL TO EARTH SO SOFTLY THEY SEEMED MORE LIKE FEATHERS. THE STREETS WERE ALL BUT EMPTY THIS COLD DECEMBER NIGHT.AS FAR AS I COULD SEE I WAS THE ONLY ONE OUT WALKING.I LOVED NIGHTS LIKE THIS WHEN EVERYTHING IS SO QUIET NOT A HINT OF A BREEZE JUST THE CRUNCHING OF SNOW BENEATH MY BOOTS.

IN BETWEEN THE GLOW OF THE STREET LAMPS I WAS THROWN INTO DARKNESS, BUT MY SENSES LED THE WAY AS I KNEW THE STREETS OF THIS CITY LIKE I KNEW MY NAME.I BELIEVE I COULD FIND MY WAY PAST THE LIBRARY AND FOOTBALL FIELD AROUND THE HIGH SCHOOL AND THROUGH THE WOODS TO MY HOUSE BLINDFOLDED.

I SPOKE SOFTLY OUT LOUD AS I WALKED NOT THAT I CARED IF SOMEONE HEARD ME, I JUST LIKED TALKING SOFTLY IT WAS A NARRATION OF SORTS.EVERY WALK TOOK THE SAME ROUTE, AND THAT LED ME TO THE HALFWAY POINT A 24 HOUR DINER CALLED DONS.I TOOK MY USUAL PLACE AT THE COUNTER AND WAS GREETED BY LORI WHO HAD BEEN WORKING AT DONS SINCE IT OPENED FORTY YEARS AGO. SHE DIDN’T SMILE AS MUCH AS SHE ONCE DID, BUT SHE STILL REMEMBERED WHAT I WANTED SETTING A PIECE OF APPLE PIE AND COFFEE IN FRONT OF ME BEFORE I COULD GET MY COAT OFF.

THERE WERE NEVER MORE THAN A FEW PEOPLE IN HERE AT THIS TIME OF NIGHT AND DON WAS NOWHERE TO BE SEEN SO I ASSUMED HE WAS IN THE BACK SOMEWHERE TAKING A SNOOZE.GUESS HE KNEW LORI COULD HANDLE THINGS.THERE WAS NO SMALL TALK JUST A FEW PEOPLE DRINKING COFFEE AND EATING PIE. DONS WAS AS MUCH A PART OF MY ROUTINE AS WALKING AROUND TOWN. I PAID MY TAB AND NODDED TO LORI AS I WENT BACK OUT INTO THE COLD NIGHT AND BEGAN THE SECOND PART OF MY WALK.

MY NEXT STOP WAS THE LITTLE MOM AND POP GROCERY STORE THAT WASN’T OPEN YET BUT THE NEWSPAPER TRUCK WAS THERE EVERY NIGHT RIGHT ON TIME. I NODDED TO THE DRIVER WHO HANDED ME A PAPER THEN STUCK THE FIFTY CENTS I HANDED TO HIM IN HIS OVERALL POCKET.I ROLLED THE PAPER UP IN A TIGHT ROLL LIKE I USE TO DO WHEN I HAD A PAPER ROUTE AS A KID. THEN PUT IT UNDER MY ARM AND WALKED ON.THE SNOW WAS FALLING FASTER NOW SO I WALKED A LITTLE FASTER MY BOOTS SOUNDING LIKE A MILITARY CADENCE.

AS I OPENED THE DOOR TO MY HOUSE, THE SMELL OF BACON FILLED MY SENSES MY WIFES SOFT VOICE GREETING ME WITH A KISS ON THE CHEEK. “NICE WALK” SHE ASKED. I NODDED AS I SAT DOWN AT THE TABLE OPENING THE NEWSPAPER, PATIENTLY WAITING FOR MY NEXT WALK.

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