Waiting for Ice Cream
Ice cream: Hometown Chicago in lieu of using thermometers
measures the humid sweltering summer heat by this treat's sales volume. A more healthy diet concern has halved my personal
consumption of the delectable delicacy from the premium variety gallon a week erstwhile ‘standard'. While waiting for
service, appetites capriciously change when observing others purchases. Syrups, sprinkles, cherries, berries, fruits, nuts,
M & M's, marshmallows, whipped cream are capriciously added or subtracted as a single scoop cup morphs into a gastrological
diet breaking sundae array. Mimicry and one-upmanship reigns.
The emerging new world
order of social change, faltering economies, toppling heads of State, and absconding dictators is akin to a frenzied line
of ice cream buyers on a 90°F, 26°C day.
"Oh let me see ---- OK, we'll have the
Western Style democracy with a debt ceiling."
"WAIT! Never mind, that doesn't seem to be
working --- make that a reorganizational committee or council with lots of foreign aid." Foreign
aid, like vanilla ice cream is always fashionable; this is especially true as a recipient.
expensive, but can´t we get foreign aid?"
"Better still, I'll eschew ‘outside
interference', but leave on the extra topping of foreign aid."
"Perhaps an old fashioned
South American or Caribbean junta would work here ----. No, make that a troika because three heads are better than one which
also means more foreign aid".
"How's that Iraq thing working, now that Saddam Hussein is
"Osama bin Laden dead! OMG (couldn't resist an instant message texting dig)! "What
about those funds for searching and payoffs for aiding/harboring?"
The common theme here is ‘the
USA is the crutches for the stumbling world' while our citizenry are the shoemakers' children waiting for shoes. Let's get
OUR economy in order and let the countries of the world decide for themselves what they wish to be. They won't love us any
less because we will always have that appetizing, always appealing, foreign aid flavored ice cream.
By the way, I predict Gaddafi will never be brought to trial (however his name is spelled this week, I've seen the name
spelled many ways including the first letter as a "Q" or "K"; depends on where you are I suppose). A truce/compromise
will be reached; he would take the money and go into exile in this instance. Don't be surprised if one of his sons or "former
wink, wink" aides becomes the new whatever. Now whether or not he would be assassinated or killed is another matter.
I think I'll have some ice cream with fruit, a slice of chocolate cake and a cigar for lunch.
[Eat your heart out, I've dropped 15 to 20 lbs (mostly rear end and thighs) and I'm now back below200 lbs wearing fitted jeans
and above the knee shorts.]
A Katrina type catastrophe was averted, so a reprisal of
the ‘Katrina poem' is in order:
Jazz Tonight, Katrina's Kiss
Big Easy, lively city on
gulf and bay
Sits beneath watery grave
Drone of vehicles and vessels
fill soggy, humid air,
Bring hope and substance to despair
sought for salvation and explanation
Water and wind seek more victims
guitar silenced as fearful souls wail pain and sorrow
Anguish pierces the musty stench
Cries for loved ones mix with calls for help
Faces once with aloof disdain,
now cloaked in pain
Grasp hands once scorned; danger finds allies in strangers
clutching fearful children look to the sky
Entrée fish swim through trendy restaurant
Haves patrons dine with nots at misfortune's table
once flowing from bottle and keg in revelry
Replaced by flooding water from levee
Katrina cruelly kissed the land goodbye in a violent way
Scorned as few met
her, after knowing she would be here
Her wet lingering kiss left a lasting, angry smear
Reminding all, she would be back one day
R e Hill©