We Could Be Pirates

By Steve Bussiere

---

I wasn't invited, technically speaking, but Andy and One Draft Phil were having a meeting the other day when I wandered into The Triangle.

So after stopping by to flirt with the barmaid, I picked up my drink and wandered over to say hello.

I like sitting with Andy and One Draft. The conversation is always stimulating, if somewhat erratic.

Andy has been A.W.O.L. lately, so it was time to do a little catching up. "Where have you been hiding Andy? We were just about to put your picture on the side of a milk carton."

"I've been busy with work." he replied. "That's a good thing too. Judging from everything I've seen and read in the news lately."

Phil and I both agreed whole heartedly. "What if your business goes south Andy? Have you given any consideration to a backup plan?" Phil asked.

"Not really. I work for myself, so my job is pretty safe. How about you Steve? Do you have a back up plan for yourself?"

I had to admit that I didn't because I can be ridiculously optimistic at times, but I told them I was working on one anyway. I just lack direction sometimes.

"There's no roadmap to success Steve." Phil pointed out.

"Maybe that's why I haven't found it! That's a relief!!!"

"No Steve, relief is over there, in the corner, first door on the right."

"That sounds strangely like a roadmap to success if you ask me."

"You're only on your first beer. Maybe it will be later but you need a couple of more first."

That's why I like those guys. They're deep thinkers with a lot of vision. At times it may be double vision, but it's still vision. I really try to learn from those guys.

"Hey Andy, where on God's green earth is Somalia? You're a world traveler, so you probably know."

Andy looked up and told me "Oh, it's over on the coast of Africa, why? Are you thinking of emigrating again?"

"Well, I'm kinda sorta kicking the idea around in my head. You know, have a backup plan."

"It's a dangerous place these days Steve"

"What is? My head?"

"No, well maybe, but I was talking about Somalia."

"Do you know anything at all about Somalia Steve?"

"Yeah, it's on the coast of Africa. You told me so. Why?"

"Because there is no government there."

"That might be a good thing Andy."

"Maybe not Steve. No government, think about it, who's going to bail out the failing businesses there." Phil asked.

I pondered that question for a moment. "Well, do they make cars in Somalia?" I asked.

"No they don't. I'm not even sure that they have roads, why?"

"Well, if they don't have a government, there may be an opening for a guy who has run a Republic before. It's job creation. I'm formulating a back up plan, which I already told you."

"Well you may very well be doing that Steve, but what do you have to offer them?"

"Well, they don't have car manufacturers, so I figure I've already saved them 14 billion dollars, and I'm not even there yet."

"Well I don't even know what currency they use in Somalia Steve. It could be Kroners for all I know."

"They have grocery stores there?"

"No, KRONERS Steve!"

"Yeah, I knew that. But I can change the currency."

"Change it to what Steve?"

"Monopoly Money Phil. I found a website where you can print as much of it as you want."

"Monopoly Money?!! It has no value!"

"Yeah, well the way we're going here, there's not much difference."

"He has a point Phil. But Steve, Somalia is being run by pirates at the moment."

"That doesn't scare me Andy. Besides, I could have a presidential yacht or something."

"Presidential speed boat is more likely. Do you think you could handle the pirates?"

"Yep. I invaded Mexico a couple of years ago, don't you remember?"

"Yes that's right, but as I recall the lady who was with you dumped you shortly after that little fiasco."

"That's true, but I'm a single guy now, so I don't need to worry about that happening again. Besides, from what I hear those pirates aren't too bright themselves."

"Why would you think that?"

"Well, if I remember correctly, they hijacked an oil tanker and got 3 million dollars ransom for releasing it."

"Oh, catch and release program, huh?"

"Well they got 3 million bucks Steve."

"Yeah, but a bunch of them drowned when they took off with the cash. They should have started on a smaller scale and took swimming lessons before they did the super tanker thing. These guys need guidance, and I'm just the guy to provide it."

Andy looks kind of funny with tequila squirting out of his nose.

"Look. It's not funny Andy! If I install the Monopoly Money treasury, there will no longer be a need for them to hijack oil tankers, which was stupid anyway. Oil was 145 dollars a barrel when they hijacked it and now it's down to 40 dollars. That's not a very good business plan in retrospect."

"Well you're starting to make a little more sense now Steve." Phil said. "Which scares me."

"Hey, when I take over, you guys can come help me out. You know fix up the place. Work out deals with other governments who'll pay us to not hijack their ships. All of that foreign policy stuff."

"Yeah, and we could be pirates Steve."

"Yeah, but not pirates in the Caribbean. That doesn't work out very well for me."

---

What’s Behind Door #2?

By Steve Bussiere

---

I love when my son comes home for a visit.

Okay, I lied, but I love when my son comes home for a visit except for one minor inconvenience. Is that better?

Good!

He is a great young man and a lot of fun to be around except for the fact that the entire Swinging Bachelor Pad is turned even more upside down than I make it on my own with my out of control lifestyle.

I have a neighbor of the female persuasion who dropped over a while ago to say hi, so I invited her in for a cup of coffee.

I thought the place was a mess, but she's kind of good looking so I figured, what the hell.

The swinging bachelor pad is decorated in early depression motif, which is bad enough, but that particular evening it was more like disorganized early depression motif.

I try to keep it clean, but there are seven days in a week and I, coincidentally, happen to have access to seven dinner plates.

It's a nice marriage.

Under normal circumstances I put the dirty dishes in the sink, because I just couldn't be bothered opening the dish washer to put them in.

That was exactly the case when my friend came in for a cup of coffee or three.

She is a very pretty lady who is named after a particular, upscale brand of car.

The Wizard calls her Cadillac. I'm not sure of his exact reason for this, because she is named after a different car, but I have my suspicions as to his intentions.

I ain't right, but The Wizard at times is even more, less right, than even I can descend to.

I think he wants to do a test drive. That's purely speculation on my part, but you have to follow your gut feeling sometimes.

Cadillac gazed around my place and settled down in a chair while I poured her a cup of steaming effluence. "Do you live here alone?" she asked, her eyes taking in the surroundings like a dried up sponge dropped into a mud puddle.

"Yes I do." I replied as I watched her big brown eyes surveying the carnage.

"Really?" she continued. "It's really clean! For a single guy's place."

I was slightly taken aback at that one. I knew that I hadn't added anything to her coffee, and I know she doesn't need glasses. "Are you kidding?" I asked. "It's pretty much a mess at the moment."

I find clutter comforting at times, I suppose because it makes me feel like someone else is living there as well.

"If you think this is clean for a single guy, you ought to see the Wizard's apartment. He keeps it spotless."

We sat and talked for about half an hour.

"Well I have to go now Steve." she said as she rose up from her chair. "Thank you for the coffee."

I walked her out to her car and we said our goodbyes. "I'd like to see you again sometime." She said. I smiled a self satisfied smile for a nanosecond. "You make very good coffee for a Canadian guy."

As she drove away, I wondered how many other Canadian guys she has had coffee with.

I wondered how her place looks. I mean. If she thought mine was clean."

Then I re-entered the Bachelor Pad and thought about our visit.

She is from way, way down south, and I am from way, way up north.

She thinks my accent is cute.

I think her accent is sexy.

She is named after a stylish automobile.

Hey, I have a Republic named for me! Not a Banana Republic, but hell, it's a Republic.

I wondered to myself if that makes me a Republican?

I wondered to myself that if she is from way, way down south, and I am from way, way up north, if that would constitute a bi-polar relationship.

But if it constituted a bi-polar relationship, that would just be crazy!

All of my wondering was interrupted by a knock at my door.

"Ah, she's come back!" I thought to myself, as I smiled broadly.

I wandered over to the door, and confidently turned the knob.

I put on my best smile and pulled the door open, fully expecting to look into those big brown Columbian eyes.

"Hey Mate! What are you up to?"

Well that sure deflated my self-satisfied cockiness.

"Oh, howdy Wiz. I'm not doing anything. I just had a visitor, and I thought that you may have been her, returning or something."

"Why? Did she forget something?"

"Yeah, she forgot to fall in lust with me I guess."

"Well, was she good looking Mate?"

"I don't let ugly women in the Bachelor Pad Wiz. I'm not that kind of guy."

"Well what do you do with the ugly ones then?"

"I usually send them over to your place Wiz."

"Well then, that would explain all the knocks at my door lately."

"So what do you do with them Wiz?"

"I don't do anything Mate. I've stopped answering knocks at my door."

"Why so, Wiz?"

"Because it's always an ugly woman when I answer it."

"Did anyone knock at your door tonight, Wiz?"

"Yes, Mate, just a couple of minutes ago, why?"

"And you didn't answer?"

"No way Mate, I just told you I don't. Why do you ask?"

"Because it was your birthday present from me."

"Really? And what did you get me?"

"I tried to send you a Cadillac."

"Shivers Mate! I should have answered the damn door."

"Yup, you should have. I told her your place is clean."

"I think I need a drink Mate."

"C'mon in and have a few drinks, then."

I turned and smiled to myself.

He didn't open the present I sent him, so I figured that the very least I could do was to insure that if anyone else knocked at his door that night, he would think she was pretty.

Hey, it's just the kind of guy that I am!

---

Only The Lonely

By Steve Bussiere

---

My son came home for a visit recently, which was great because I really miss him, although I know he is out there somewhere growing into the person he has to become. That is a wonderful and magical thing, but I still miss him.

While he was staying with me he gave me a book and told me I should read it because he thought I would really like it. He thinks the author's style is a lot like mine and told me it made him think of me while he was away growing.

We didn't spend nearly as much time together as I would have liked, because he is a young man and missed his friends here too, and wanted to spend time with them as well.

I was once a young man myself so after he spent a couple of hours with me I tossed him my car keys and told him to get out and see his friends, because when you are young, you need to see your friends more than you need to spend time with your old man, no matter how much you miss each other.

He smiled said thanks Dad, gave me a hug and headed out the door.

There was nothing on television that I wanted to watch, so out of curiosity born of boredom, I opened up the book and began to read it.

It was a great book, and I found it hard to put down. I sat there reading and marveled as I read my own life story it seemed.

I won't bore you with the details, but there was one chapter about loneliness, which really struck a chord inside of my heart.

The bottom line was that people were never meant to be alone because when we are alone, we become so self-absorbed that reality vanishes into the mist of life.

Well that's pretty deep stuff to read when you are feeling precisely the same way inside, which started me thinking. Loneliness starts you thinking sometimes which can spiral out of control.

At this time of year, there are a lot of people who are likely feeling a deeper loneliness than hopefully you can imagine, because it is not fun to feel that way.

I sat back and looked at my life, what it is and what it was, where it has lead me and I wondered where it will lead me to.

Then I thought about The Republic of Steve.

The Republic of Steve is a place in my mind, which was born of loneliness.

It is a place where I can create everything I would love to have.

It is a place where there is no loneliness, only friends.

Friends who care about each other, laugh with each other, lie harmlessly to one another and hide from the uglier side of life with each other.
It is a place where dreams are born and grow. Dreams like "The Paper Magazine".

Some of the dreams are born from hope.

Some are born from pain, and others are born of the same complete and utter boredom and frustration that only the lonely know.

It's a haven of sanity, born of insanity.

It may never be close to the best place on this earth, but at least it's "home", and home is where the heart is.

No matter how badly the day has gone, there is a place of respite at The Republic of Steve.

There is always someone who cares about you and all that you are going through.

No matter how down you are feeling on any particular day, there is always someone at The Republic who will rag on you, just to let you know they care, because you only tease people you care about.

There are always friends to have a beverage with and do some "neon tanning" under the four gazillion beer lights which adorn the walls.

Camaraderie is a wonderful thing which will kill loneliness, at least temporarily.

There is "Christmas" in The Republic of Steve, but it can't be held on the 25th of December, because it is not open on that day.

I suppose it's a lot like Wal-Mart, which is not open on that day either, with no check out lines.

With that in mind, I just want to take this opportunity to wish all of the denizens of The Republic of Steve, a very Merry Christmas.

THE CAST: (In no particular order)
Alton
Andy
Publisher Bob
One Draft Phil
Sole Brother Rich
Clark The Killer
Sherriff Ron
Karnal Kim
The Wiz
Angel Eyes
Cinderella
The Flower Girl
Butch The Water Bored Guy

And to everyone reading this, we all wish you the very best at this wonderful time of year! Hold the snow!

---

All Workout And No Play

By Steve Bussiere

---

I have a very dear friend who lives far, too far away from where I find myself sitting right now, … in a physical sense, at least.

I remember back to a time when Olivia Newton John had an album with a great tune entitled “Let’s Get Physical”.

I really liked that album, not only because of the music … but the pictures were, ahem, …stimulating, (I can’t think of a more apropos adjective), to say the least.

Due to relatively recent changes in my living arrangements, I no longer own a turntable. But I have retained the album, for entirely selfish reasons.

I like to think that it’s because it reminds me of a time when everyone I know had much harder bodies than time allows one to retain, although I realize that there are some folks I know, who are struggling to recapture, that which time has ruled, “long gone”.

I salute these people and their zealous crusades to recapture past glory. I suppose some people just want to be teenagers again, although when I recall that period in my life, I am unable to fathom how one would even want to go there again.

Time is the never relenting enemy, (yeah, I actually figured that out myself), and it takes no prisoners. I know, because I checked into it. Heck, I currently hurt in places I didn’t know existed, back in the day. If my body is a temple, it is in dire need of a total refurbishing. And no one worships there either, a sad commentary, on a sad excuse for a temple.

I’m lucky though, I don’t have to look at me. The gods have smiled on at least one aspect of my life.

My aforementioned, dear friend, worries too much about her physical appearance, at times.
I think that she kind of looks like Olivia Newton John.

She is a lot like Olivia Newton John as well. For instance neither of them talks to me these days. Perhaps it’s due to the turntable’s absence, or then again it may be that they’re both just too damned good for me.

It’s pointless to speculate, which I figured out yesterday.

So into my chariot I jumped and headed off to The Triangle.

Unfortunately it isn’t one of those “love” triangles, it’s more of the Bermuda type of triangle for me.

Football game day.

So I entered The Triangle and glanced around quickly.

Nope, definitely not the “love” triangle.

My faraway friend was not there and neither was Olivia.

But my good friend Mexican Joe was there. My brother from another mother had found the best seat in the house, so I went over and sat down with him to watch the Texans, and then the Cowboys.

Joe is an American of Hispanic descent, but everyone calls him Mexican Joe anyway.

I used to call him Tex-Mex, but after a few beverages that gets difficult to say clearly.

I sat at the table and thought that over for a while.

He needed a simpler name, but “Joe” was too simple.

I thought the entire matter over for a while longer when the music in the background changed to “Bang A Gong”.

Enlightenment and inspiration are wild things, born at times of nothing more than complete and utter boredom, with a slice of music on the side.

The new name “T-Mex” was born of that exact mindless type of inspiration.

T-Mex drives a stylish Mercedez Benz, which is the same color that it was when he first drove it into the parking lot at The Triangle. Being as it has remained the same color for several months, we have deduced that he must have bought it in the old fashioned way, with real money.

“You’re gonna get a reputation T-Mex.” I mentioned to him.

“Why do you say that Steve?” he asked.

“Well you drive around in that fancy pimp mobile and people may think you have a lot of money or something.”

T-Mex smiled. He’s got a really good smile, the waitresses told me so.

That’s when The Wiz walked through the door. “G’day mates!” he said as he sat at the table with us. “What are we watching?” he asked.

“Football Wiz, Texans game and then the Cowboys.”

“Okay.” He said as he took a sip from his beer. “Let the games begin!”

“They already started Wiz.” T-Mex answered, pointing at the television screen.

“What have you been up to all morning?” the Wiz asked me.

“Coffee, doing laundry and cleaning the bachelor pad.” I told him. “How about you Wiz, what have you been up to?”

“Oh, I was in the workout room this morning.”

“What were you doing there?” I asked.

“Working out Mate, that’s what you do in those types of places.”

“Yeah but you’re not a young guy Wiz, working out is for young guys … and Olivia.”

“Who is Olivia?” The Wiz asked me.

“An Australian girl, like you Wiz.”

“I’m not a girl Steve.”

“I know Wiz, but you’re Australian, just like her. Do all you Aussies work out?”

“I’m not sure Mate, but I do, and I guess Olivia does as well but she wasn’t in there when I was this morning. Which apartment does she live in?”

“Currently she resides on the second shelf in my humble abode.” I told him.

The Wiz was non-plussed at my response, and looked over at T-Mex.

“Well then Mate, I’ll just have to change my schedule and see exactly when she does her workout. How will I know it’s her though?”

“Oh, you’ll know Wiz, and you’ll fall in love in a heartbeat. And when your heartbeat stops she’ll whip out the paddles of the zapper, rip your shirt open and start singing like an angel.”

“What will she be singing?”

“Not sure Wiz, but if it’s something like, let’s get physical, you’d better make sure she has those zapper paddles close by. Hey, what happened to T-Mex?”

“He went out and got into the Benz.”

“Where was he going?”

“Not certain where he went, he just muttered something about heading to the O-zone.”

---

An Evening At The Why

By Steve Bussiere

---

An Evening At The Why If I weren't already there, Publisher Bob would probably drive me crazy.

He's been well taught. I know, because apparently I taught him.

I recently, made a poor decision and entered the dreaded, and recently hotter than hell, "Pruitt Triangle".

"Why do you call it The Pruitt Triangle?" he wanted to know.

Bob wants to know a lot more than he needs to, … or should.

"I didn't name it that." I replied.

"Well then who did?" he continued.

"Just a friend of mine. I kind of liked it, so I adopted it for myself."

"Why?"

"Because I liked it. I just told you that, but you don't listen to me. You're just like my kids."

"You haven't given me a column in a long time Steve. What's that all about?"

"You ask too many questions Bob. Unimportant questions… I've got nothing to say, so I'm not saying anything. I'm lying fallow for the moment. I believe that there are times when that's just the right thing to do."

"Really!" he replied. "So what else do you believe Steve?" he asked.

"I believe you ask too many questions Bob. Don't mess with me. My friend thinks I live in the Twilight Zone. And for the most part she's a very intelligent lady, other than the fact that she likes me as a person."

"You're avoiding the question Steve. What else do you believe?"

I took a deep breath and counted to ten, because someone told me you should do that when you're frustrated with a situation. Well, that as well as the fact I wanted to prove to myself that I was still capable of doing that.

"You really want to know?" I asked.

"Yes. I'm curious. You've been lying fallow for seven weeks now and I just want to see what's growing." And then he smiled, the sadistic bugger that he is.

"Well since you're apparently too dumb to know this all on your own, I'll share the wisdom with you." I told him. I was having a bad karma day.

"I believe that if anyone ever tells you that you're wise, you ought to ignore it."

"Why?"

"Stop the danged questions Bob. It gets really old really quickly, because you always should consider the source. I mean if they think you're wise, then that means they think you're wiser than they are, which shouldn't mean anything to you because you're the danged wise one in the first place and they ought to know that you're the one who should have explained it to them to begin with."

Bob looked scared for the first time since I met him.

"I also believe that love is stupid, since you asked."

"Why?"

There was that question again!

"Because when two people fall in love, it's inevitable that someone is going to end up getting hurt really badly."

"Why is that Steve?"

"Because it's the law of nature, and you can't mess with it."

Why? You mean you don't believe in true love?"

"I never said I didn't, but if two people fall in love, which is a ridiculous thing to do in the first place, somebody is gonna get hurt, sooner or later."

"Why? What if they meet, fall in love get married and live happily ever after?"

"It'll never happen Bob. Because even if it did and lasted for a hundred years, sooner or later one of them is going to die and the other one is going to hurt really badly when it happens."

"Well what if they die together Steve. You know, at the exact same time."

"That's not happily ever after Bob. Happily ever after only happens in Fairy Tales, and Fairy Tales are for kids, and when the parents do die, the kids end up getting hurt. It's just the nature of the world."

"Why would you say that? What if they didn't have kids? Then no one could end up getting hurt."

"Yes but two people who are dumb enough to fall in love in the first place, would want to have kids and if they didn't, that would hurt them. And if they didn't want to have kids, and then didn't have kids, they wouldn't know how happy they were before they had kids. Everybody always wants what they don't have and if you can't have what you don't have it hurts. So I'll stick with my last statement."

"Why?"

"Because I'm right, that's why. And while I'm on a tear, I also believe that Murphy was an optimist."

"Why is that Steve?"

"Because he was an Irishman and they all are optimistic because they drink too much, and they just don't know any better."

"I also believe that life may be short, but I'm shorter. And that's pretty much the long and the short of it, right there."

"Is that about it Steve?"

"I guess so. I mean the good Lord gave us two ears and one mouth and maybe half of a brain, with a tailwind. So I'm just going to shut up and listen now and try to hang on through the wind tunnel."

"You sound a touch jaded Steve." Bob answered. "You need to lighten up a bit and think about changing your perspective, don't you think?"

"Why??????????????"

---

Bad Science - Time On My Hands

By Steve Bussiere

---

There was a time in my life when I loved the advent of the long weekend.

That was back when I had someone to keep me in line, even if it was at the back of the line.

Don't misunderstand me, I still enjoy long weekends, but I never know what they have in store for me any more, which is an exciting thing.

Just this past weekend for instance, Memorial Day!

I always thought I knew what it meant, but I was in for a rude awakening this year.

One of my neighbors came by my place, and being hot and muggy, I told him to look in the refrigerator and help himself to any cold beverage he wanted.

"What do you have in there?" he asked me.

"I don't know." I replied. "There's a bunch of stuff in there I think. I don't like looking in it."

"Ok Steve, I'll check it out, I am pretty thirsty."

"Help yourself to anything." I said, "But if you find anything healthy in there you should leave it alone. It probably belongs to my son, or it's stale dated." I warned him.

Zack is a great big, happy go lucky guy from Arkansas, so I wasn't really worried about him going for anything healthy, but erring on the side of caution, I thought I should warn him.

Zack entered the bachelor pad and opened the refrigerator door.

I heard him rummaging through the contents and he returned in a short while carrying two cans of beer.

"I thought you might want one too Steve." he said as he handed one of the cans to me.

"Thanks Zack. That was really thoughtful of you."

Then he looked at me with a strange look in his eyes.

"Steve, that's not a refrigerator in there." he told me.

"What do you mean Zack?" I asked him. "What the heck do they call it in Arkansas? Ice boxes went out in the forties."

"Well, we would call it a refrigerator from the outside view, but when I looked inside, wow!"

"What do you mean, wow?" I asked.

"That's not a refrigerator Steve. It's a science experiment. … A science experiment gone really bad!"

I was crushed.

"Why would you say something so insensitive Zack? The beer is fresh."

"Yeah, but it's the other stuff in there that scares me." He replied.

"Like what?"

"Well you have something in there growing fur. It kind of looks like it was a zucchini."

"Couldn't be a zucchini Zack. I don't buy anything I can't spell. I think it may have been a cucumber."

"Oh I see. That's much easier to spell!"

"Don't you ever clean that thing out man?" he wondered aloud.

"Yeah, sure I do." I told him. "When the mood strikes me, or on long weekends, whichever comes later."

"Well it's a long weekend Steve. When are you going to get started?"

"I'm waiting for the mood to strike me. I'm a procrastinator."

"Well I hope it strikes you soon. You could cross contaminate the beer cans." Zack told me. "Or I guess you could clean the bathroom instead, if you needed something to do."

Suddenly the refrigerator thing began to look like a pretty inviting task.

"So where do you spend more time Steve, in the refrigerator or the bathroom?"

I hate being confused by people from Arkansas. It just ain't right, if you catch my drift.

"I pondered the question for a moment, and told him "Well one seems to lead to the other. It's like the itch/scratch cycle. It never ends!"

"Well, I have to get running Steve." Zack said as he finished his beer. "You may want to find your personal safety equipment so you don't get injured."

I watched him walk off toward his little corner of the world, and decided that he may be right. Refrigerator remediation time was upon me.

"C'mon by and have a drink any time." I called after him.

He looked back and grinned. "After you clean up the toxic spill Steve." he called back.

"It's Memorial Day Steve. You need to give that stuff a proper burial. But only after you say a few prayers."

"You think I'm going into that fridge without the aid of God Zack? It ain't gonna happen!"

Thank God, Playtex gloves and Lysol.

I took a deep breath and opened the door.

I actually thought it looked pretty good. It was reminiscent of an arboretum, in a manner of speaking.

I guess some people just don't appreciate nature the way others do.

To each his own.

It was a sad moment as I emptied the entire contents of the fridge and prepared for the Last Farewell.

I never had realized that a dumpster could be a holy place.

After a few moments of remembrance, I tossed the bag into the dumpster and returned to the bachelor pad.

I sadly opened the refrigerator door and glanced inside.

I had never realized that it could be such a cold and lonely place.

Melancholy filled my aching heart.

Then I thought of the bathroom.

A guy can only handle so much angst on one long weekend!

So I made an executive decision and wandered over to the grocery store.

There are times in one's life when you have to start anew, and I was on the brink of a brave new refrigerator world!

I suppose we'll just have to wait and see what grows out of all of this.

---

Cindy Safety - Time On My Hands

By Steve Bussiere

---

I was out recently, when I ran into a few close friends.

They may never admit to being that, but I do, because honesty is the best policy. I know that's true because I read it somewhere.

It was the Annual Champions Kid's Camp Bar-B-Que Cookoff at Papa's.

Sandy was looking for judges for some of the events, and being a shrewd woman, she immediately found me. As I said, she is a wise woman and she knows that if she can find single guys, they will never pass up the opportunity to judge free food.

Well, I honestly wasn't surprised as she approached me to ask if I would help.

I have done the judging thing for the past several years and have judged a few categories which I am totally unqualified to share my opinion on.

But I get to eat free, and the finest part of it all is that I don't have to do any dishes.

Bachelor heaven, so to speak.

"So what are you going to sign up for this year Steve?" she inquired.

For the past few years I have judged Bloody Mary's. The breakfast of Champions perhaps, but I'm down to one liver and my brain is functioning a lot better now.

So I checked the list, in search of new horizons in my dining life.

"Desserts!" I said.

Bachelors, don't get dessert very often,, because very few pizza joints serve dessert, so it sounded like a sweet deal to this boy.

There is a secondary benefit to picking the dessert deal, because they don't do the dessert judging until the Bloody Mary liver sacrifice is over, so I got to sleep in a little later. And besides that, you can make sure that the Bloody Mary judges lived through the ordeal, which gives, in my mind, a firm indication that the cookers know their craft making the second sitting asafer experience.

Thinking about the safety factor, reminded me of Cindy.

She's a Safety person in one of the large facilities in the area, and she kind of cute for a girl too.

Safety people are a conservative breed, and most of them. Unfortunately, look more like Harold the Safety guy than Cindy the Safety Girl, which is an unfortunate situation for most industrial accident victims.

Then I thought to myself that I was very happy I didn't work in her facility, because I think I'd be involved in a whole lot of minor accident situations, of the non life threatening variety.

I sat at the judging table, thinking to myself that it was far too early in the day to be having impure thoughts, so I stopped thinking and started looking at the desserts.

That was when Cindy Safety walked in the door, and started that wrong type thinking thing all over again.

I was there to judge dessert. It was an important job.

A job to be performed safely.

As I opened the first container, I looked at something which appeared to be delicious.

So I looked back over at Cindy Safety, took a deep breath and tasted the first offering.

Cindy was seated with Rich, my Sole Brother. He of the blown out running shoe accident of last year.

I smiled.

Rich needs a safety girl in his life.

He's a bachelor as well, and then I wondered why he wasn't judging the desserts.

Then I looked at Cindy, and I realized that he had made the wiser choice.

I looked at offering number two.

It looked very sweet.

Then I looked at my Sole Brother with Cindy Safety.

He had a smile on his face.

I had a smile on my face.

Offering number two was sweet.

Safety Cindy was sweeter though.

Round Two went to my Sole Brother.

So did all of the other rounds.

I felt cheated, if it is possible to feel cheated after you have just tasted twelve of the best desserts you have ever had.

When it was over, I walked over and sat down with Cindy and my Sole Brother

I never realized that Rich was such a conscientious host.

He had obviously spared no expense in hosting the event. He had even brought in the best looking safety person in Texas to protect me.

I love America! Land of the Free and home of the Safe.

And then I began to wonder, for no important reason, what the heck Cindy was short for.

You should never think like that while you are on a sugar buzz.

My mind was a blank space, a black hole in the Bar-B-Que universe.

And then it came to me!

Cinderella!!!!!

That had to be it. There could be no other explanation in the Bar-B-Que universe.

I was witnessing a transfiguration!

Rich, my Sole Brother was in a safe place now!

He had his very own Safety Angel.

No Christmas Tree to perch her upon, but he had the Safety Angel that belongs on the tree, if he ever finds it!

Rich, the Sole Man, was now, at least in my warped vision, The Cinderella Man!

"Hey! Give me another piece of that Pumpkin Pie. Would ya?"

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