Herkamer and Gertrude and the Double Bind Part 2

Herkamer's boss put him in a difficult situation when he would say, “Make more sales, but don't make more sales.” Of course it's the old double bind, and most people are unaware when they order them, but when Herkamer's boss said it this time, Herkamer decided to go see wise old Brother Hadley. Herkamer had just pulled into Brother Hadley's old farmhouse drive, saw Brother Hadley sitting on the front porch whittling and rising to greet him. Herkamer was just about to say hello when he saw Brother Hadley stand and say...

“Well now boy, it's about time you came around here again” as he chuckled and laughed. Brother Hadley walked over to Herkamer, grabbed him hard around the back, and gave Herkamer a squeezing hug that made Herkamer nearly lose his breath. “Son, how are ya?” Brother Hadley asked loudly even though he already noticed the trouble on Herkamer's face. “Not so good, Brother Hadley,” Herkamer replied and continued. “I have this trouble with my boss.” “Tell me about it, son” Brother Hadley said as he walked with Herkamer and pointed for him to sit down on the front porch.

Herkamer sat in one of the rockers and continued, “My boss tells me to do things and then not do the very same things. It's frustrating because it seems that I can never know which way I should go or what I should do or not do.” Brother Hadley listened, shook his head, and stroked his chin with his long brown spotted fingers and thumb. Herkamer continued, “I'm just exasperated, and thought maybe you could help me.”

Brother Hadley stopped rocking his chair, looked deep into Herkamer's eyes and said, “I believe if you wouldn't blow your balloon so tight, it wouldn't make such a racket when it busts.” Brother Hadley now had Herkamer's complete attention. He listened closely as Brother Hadley continued...

Stay tuned for the conclusion of the story tomorrow. Same Blog Spot. Same Blog Time. Until tomorrow...Why Say More?

Herkamer and Gertrude and the Double Bind

Herkamer was having trouble at work. It seems that his boss could never quite make up his mind as to exactly what he wanted to do, and he would take it out on Herkamer. For example, his boss would say, “Herkamer, I want you to make more sales, but don't make more sales.” Or, he would say, “Let's start a new promotion, but I don't want anything new going on around here. Stay the course.” Of course, poor old Herkamer never quite knew what to do, so he would often be in trouble with the boss.

Finally, one day Herkamer's boss said as he was staring down at some papers on his desk, “Herkamer, I want you to go over there, but make sure you stay here because I might need you,” and Herkamer replied angrily, “What in the heck is that supposed to mean?” Herkamer's boss looked up angrily and responded, “You do as I say or you're fired, but don't you even begin to think that you will lose your job over this!” Herkamer bowed and shook his head as he watched his boss look down at the papers on his desk once again as if Herkamer wasn't even in the room.

Finally, Herkamer decided to visit his old friend Brother Hadley. Brother Hadley always seemed to have the right words for him, and Herkamer's wife Gertrude would often insist that Herkamer visit Brother Hadley when he was in trouble. Bother Hadley was an old country farmer who wore bib overalls that covered his large upper torso. He was deep country in looks, but also had a crooked nose that was from his part Indian heritage. Although he didn't look like much from a world view, the wisdom he possessed and the obscure doctorate that he held in philosophy were well disguised. Brother Hadley always knew what to say when times were rough.

Herkamer left work, and traveled down the old country road to the farm where Brother Hadley lived. As he approached the small, county dwelling where Brother Hadley lived, Herkamer saw him sitting on a rocking chair whittling on the porch. Herkamer stopped his car, open the door, and Brother Hadley stopped his whittling and stood to greet him.

Herkamer was just about to greet him when...

Stay tuned for the conclusion of the story tomorrow. Same Blog Spot. Same Blog Time. Until tomorrow...Why Say More?

Until Lightning Strikes

Flashes across the sky illuminating settings that momentarily are unseen; Jagged bolts of electricity piercing the darkness with power to generate cities with magnificent displays of energy that when harnessed changes lives and moves people to places never before imagined; Lightning. One of nature's most powerful traits that demonstrates a person's small ability when compared, and until lightning strikes, many believe themselves to be something they are not and will boast in the same.

Life has its way of sending “lightning” into a person's existence. One moment everything seems normal, the job,the home, the spouse, the children, and all is happy until, that sudden news comes, that devastating report is read, that announcement is spoken, and everything changes. Accident, cancer, heart attack, lost, gone, missing, stolen, cheated, fired, laid off, divorce, and on and on the list is compiled of words that suddenly alter a person's path. Unrest is gained, worry is employed, and wrestling for a new position becomes the norm.

What is left when the lightning strikes in a person's life is that which is in their core. When everything relied upon is taken away in a flash, only that part which cannot be taken will be left, and a person discovers who they really are. Lose the material, lose the relationships, lose the matters in which one takes pride, lose every resource in a lightning bolt of time, and realize the character that remains is that which both the individual and the world needed to concentrate on all the time.

Until tomorrow...Why Say More?

Restlessness

He can't sleep, and she tosses and turns. The bills, the job, the marriage, the children, the parents: They just cannot stop thinking about them. He tries counting sheep, and she reads until her eyes are blurry. No matter what method, no matter how hard they try, they just cannot get any rest. Their restlessness has taken over their lives, and now unless they take a sleeping pill or two, they can hardly function. How shall this be remedied, and where is the answer to the unrest within?

What if there was one source that knew there would be those restless times in life? Suppose that somewhere, someone knew there were going to be times where bills, marriages, children, etc. would be on the forefronts of people's minds, and if the troubled person would just go to this source, all the rest he or she needed would be received immediately? Imagine a person who not only would provide the much needed rest, but also would promise to give to everyone he loved sleep. What if all the heavy things in life could be laid down before him and never needed to be picked up again? One wonders, if such a source were found, would people actually go to him or would they choose to suffer instead?

Some may never know, and so their existence shall be sleeping pills at night, coffee or energy drinks in the morning. Over and over and over again the drudgery lives on, and the restlessness continues even though there is one who gives a promise to all those who labor and are so heavy laden. The wise person will seek for him, and finally find the rest within they really need.

Until tomorrow...Why Say More?

Herkamer and Gertrude and The Boat

Herkamer sat watching a baseball game on television when a commercial appeared that said, “Why are you sitting on the couch when you could be out with your family on an exciting boat?” Herkamer couldn't answer that question, but the idea was now planted, and Herkamer took the bait, hook, line and sinker. Gertrude was working on a craft in the other room, so Herkamer got up, yelled out that he was going to the store for a few moments, and left out of the house.

He drove directly to the boat store where there were many beautiful brand new boats with all the accessories: Captain chairs, twin outboards, safety equipment, fish finders, etc, and the sign said, “Ready for the Ocean today!” A salesman asked him a few questions, told him a little about the boat, and Herkamer said, “I'll buy it!” That quickly, without any conversation with Gertrude at all, Herkamer signed the papers, took the loan, hooked the boat to his truck and began to drive it home. It was only then that he thought about Gertrude, so he began practicing his defense as he road home. “It'll be a family thing to do; we never get out, so this will get us out; I bought this for you because you love the ocean so much...” Then, he pulled into the driveway.

Gertrude heard the engine of Herkamer's truck and looked out the front window of her house. Her eyes widened, and fear covered her face. “Oh no,” she stated, “Not again.” She opened the door to greet him, and as he got out of the truck as though there was it was no big deal she said, “Herky, what have you done now?” “Um, “ Herkamer started sheepishly proud, “I bought a boat.” “Take it back,” Gertrude said and continued, “How many times do we have to go through this? You and I agreed to have a no questions spend limit when we got married of twenty five dollars. Did this boat cost you twenty five dollars? Did you forget how we agreed that if anything we wanted cost more than twenty five dollars we would discuss it first? Did you forget, Herky?” Herkamer bowed his head and said, “Um, I forgot, but don't you like it?” Gertrude said, “I love it. It's just the principle of the thing. We agreed, Herky. We agreed.”

Herkamer looked at the boat, then looked into Gertrude's eyes. He looked again at the boat, and he looked again into Gertrude's eyes. The eyes won, and Herkamer said, “Gerty, I'm sorry, would you mind going back to return this?” “No,” said Gertrude, “Let me go inside to get my purse.” Herkamer smiled as he realized there was no boat ride in the world worth as much as getting along with his Gerty. She rejoined him, climbed up in his truck to sit beside him, and they drove the boat back to the store.

Stay tuned for more Herkamer and Gertrude stories. Same blog spot. Same blog time. Until tomorrow...Why Say More?

Almost

People hear and say the following all the time. “I almost bought this, or I almost went there. I almost told him, and I almost told her. The other day when the boss said...I almost quit, and when she did that, I almost did this.” It's amazing how many times people come close, oh so close, to actually acting, but limit themselves in the last moment because of the “almost” impeding.

One supposes that “almost” is a good thing if the effect would be damage, injury, imprisonment or death such as: “I almost broke this, or I almost fell.” Maybe it would be “I almost joined them, or I almost crashed.” Avoided recklessness certainly has its benefits, and those who almost venture here are definitely preserved. However, most of the “almosts” encase a ting of regret.

That investment, that house, that woman, that man, that adoption, that job, that car, that motorcycle, that opportunity, that move, and the list goes on and on as people make choices that may have been steeped in great reward, but now will never be known. The moment is gone, and the “almost” choice limited the potential for knowing for sure.

One fellow said, “almost thou persuadest me...”, and a person wonders where he is today. One step, one near step, an oh so close step, and now he has a very, very long time to think about when he “almost” made the choice.

The reader may wonder, “is this writer almost done?” Almost.

Until tomorrow...Why Say More?

Speaking Beyond the Grave

The vintage photographs of those who lived in the 1920's, 30's. 40's and 50's are stationed within glass cabinets in the midst of a high school foyer. Some were in the band, others played on the football team, and still others are in poses of laughter with friends. The mascot reflects memories, coaches faces invoke recall, and teachers march emotions to a heightened state. They speak beyond their graves, and those who listen carefully, hear them.

Most of these who were captivated by life, without regard to demise, and oblivious to an end, now sound the words, “it is better to go to the house of mourning, than to go to the house of feasting: for that is the end of all men; and the living will lay it to his heart.” Their words are ominous, and their direction is flawless. Their vantage point is with perfect knowledge, and those who look upon them live in continual cognitive content. Their standpoint must be observed as one's own destiny with their position is imperative.

Who shall hear them today? What will they say? Bend the ear closely to the glass cases which hold them. Still all the noises that surround, and carefully listen to their pleas. “Beyond. Beyond. There is a beyond, and that done now will determine your destiny. Beyond. Beyond. There is a beyond.”

Until tomorrow...Why Say More?

Canceled

She stood in a checkout line with four grocery carts filled with items from the store. Seventy-seven mustards, fifty seven dish washing detergents, twenty eight hand soaps, thirty five rolls of paper towels, and multitudes of other can foods and drinks beeped across the register. The tab began to soar. Eight hundred, nine hundred, twelve hundred dollars and more was the price of this massive bounty. Suddenly, the register stopped. The checkout clerk could add no further items until the bill was paid, and that's when the coupon book was revealed.

One by one a coupon was presented that canceled the purchase prices. Fifty cents here, seventy five there, a dollar off that one, and get two for free for those: each of these coupons had value, and when the total was reduced, the twelve hundred dollar plus bill was only four.

What if there was a way to have to have every wrong a person ever did canceled with a coupon? What if there were seventy-seven lies, fifty seven thefts, twenty eight adulterous acts, nine hundred gossips, etc, and each of them could be suddenly erased like the cleaning of a white board? What if the tab in a person's life soared, and the possibility of reducing the price to zero was available? What if there was a coupon that when used would cancel every price, every debt, ever obligation that a person ever incurred? And what if this coupon was available to everyone who ever lived in all the history of man?

And yet, not everyone takes advantage of coupons. One wonders, would people actually use this coupon even if it were available? Would they care that there is a price to be paid? Would the tabulation of their lives run so high that they would only wonder if there could be such a coupon? Maybe some will be so fortunate to find this coupon, and others will never have their items canceled and have to pay the price.

Until tomorrow...Why Say More?

Living Literature

What if there were a literary piece whose design and appeal reached into the human soul so that those who read it could not be the same? What if the very nature of the characters, the scenes and the circumstances within the words moved minds, remedied problems and set forth paths of consciousness that evoked emotional outburst that could not rest until alteration was formulated? What if these were conglomerate words aligned with passion, motivated by love and congealed with design that would penetrate the most difficult of beings? And what if this literary giant was unstoppable, a formidable foe whose influence lasted beyond generations and centuries?

What effect would such a piece have on societies, cultures and socioeconomic conditions? And if this living literature were to have an judgmental accounting for those who had capacity to hear it's pleas, Kings would be moved, and Presidents would be motivated. Governors would kneel, and representatives would succumb. Judges would comply, officers would align, and offenders would consent. In other words, life would be in an altered state merely by the influence of ideas extrapolated upon a page.

And should this living literature have an alien author who dwells among the human race without being seen or heard who could influence readers, inspire interest, and create desire, people would have no alternative but to read or resist his determinant counsel. And thus, without making direct reference to this literary masterpiece, one with wisdom would find such a treasure and apply the teachings within, and move his or her world.

Until tomorrow...Why Say More?

The Shouting of the Unheard

Their voices ring loudly, yet no one hears, and their bellows are like the sounding of a cruise ship horn,yet no one listens. They're alone, yet among many, and their cries melt over society like candles in the warm summer sun. No one comprehends, yet many hear their words, and not a one perceives although they are obvious. They're depressed, and yet joyous, and they're sad, yet cheerful. The masks they wear carefully cover lest anyone should see, and their hearts are heavy, but they dwell as light as a feather.

Who are they? Where are they, and why bother with such trivial fodder? They're friends. They're neighbors, and their associates within the work places and clubs. They're in the office, and they're in nearby homes, and though their lives appear together, inwardly they feel like the world has them in a blender. From this issue to that they run to cover one while another slips away, and when this relationship gets off base, their covering of it seems to ruin another somewhere else. Back and forth, back and forth the unheard roam and wonder if anyone really cares.

They plead, but to no avail. They cry, but seem as whiners. They beg, but become those who never merit any help. Government red tapes them, and society shuns them, and those who might be of help have exhausted all their resources in previous offerings. Is there no one there? Is there no one who really cares?

What are they to do, and who will ever listen to their labors and heavy ladenness? Who would ever offer them rest unless they are heard? Who will ever teach them, and to whom will they be yoked together so that another is bearing the load? Who will ever place easiness before them when their burden is so heavy?

Is there no one? Is there someone? Is there anyone who cares to listen to the shouting of the unheard?

Until tomorrow...Why Say More?

The Rescue

He's drowning, and he doesn't know it. Everywhere around him are signs, but he is totally unaware. Sharks swim nearby, and death's scent is very close. Oblivious to the scenario, he continues to swim. His view is clear, and he's sees no trouble in sight.

One comes by to rescue, and he resists by insisting that he is fine like he is. Another sails by to warn, but he doesn't heed their plea, he swims on. One by one messages are sent, letters are written, shouting, yelling, warning and horns are presented, yet this one has it made in his own eyes. He cannot, he will not, and he does not listen to anyone except himself and his own appraisal of his condition.

Resistance, resistance, pride and resistance complicate the obvious, obscure salvation, and without humility, no one will rescue. He's “self-made”. He's “his own man”. He's “invincible”, and those who tell him otherwise are either “weak” or “in need of a crutch”.

Why bother? Why review? Why even have concern? “If he dies, he dies,” one person remarks, and yet, something within drives. Something within says it matters. Something compels, and something demands the rescue of even those who do not deserve or wish to be rescued.

Take hold of the life savor. It is flung.

Until tomorrow...Why Say More?

Herkamer and Gertrude and The Dinner

Herkamer was sitting in his burnt orange lounge chair watching television and was hungry. It was nearing dinner time, so Herkamer yelled out to Gertrude who was busy at her craft table and was deeply involved with a project., “Gerty, what's for dinner?” There was no answer, so he yelled again just a little louder, “What's for dinner, Gerty?” Still, there was no answer. So, he popped up from his chair, walked into the other room where Gertrude was and said, “Gerty, what's for dinner?”

Gertrude didn't even look up for concentrating on the feathers she was working with and said a nonchalant, “We're going out. Remember?” Herkamer didn't remember, but was quick to agree, so he asked, “Where do you want to go?” “I don't know,” responded Gertrude who was still working on her feathers, “Where do you want to go?” Herkamer answered, “How about Chinese?” “Nah, we had that a couple days ago?” she answered. Herkamer then asked, “Well, how about steak then?” “Nah, too heavy. I have trouble sleeping after a big meal like that,” Gertrude responded. “Okay, how about Mexican?” Herkamer continued. Gertrude looked up at Herkamer with a squinched face and said, “Now Herky, you know what happens to your stomach when we have Mexican.” “Oh yeah,” Herkamer agreed and thought again and asked, “How about a burger?” “Too fattening.” Gertrude responded. “A salad?” Herkamer questioned with a little frustration in his voice. “No, I'd like something with a little substance,” Gertrude answered casually as she continued to work. “Okay, how about a chicken salad?” Herkamer asked. “No, I had that with the girls for lunch on Wednesday,” Gertrude answered.

As Herkamer was becoming frustrated and more hungry by the moment, a commercial came on the television for children who were starving in Ethiopia. The commercial was on just loud enough for both Herkamer and Gertrude to hear. They watched as children ate very little per day, looked very sickly, and their eyes were sunken deeply into their heads. They watched as flies surrounded their swollen bellies on their little bodies, and the environment around them was filled with filth and animal refuse. The plea on the commercial was to help with just a nominal amount of money, and then the announcer said that the amount that a couple spends on one dinner would feed these children for a month.

Gertrude looked at Herkamer, and Herkamer looked back at Gertrude. Each of them had tears in their eyes when Gertrude asked, “How about peanut butter, and let's send our dinner to them?” Herkamer agreed, and they walked into the kitchen together to make the sandwiches.

Stay tuned tomorrow for another story. Same blog time. Same blog spot. Until tomorrow...Why Say More?

Troubled Over Craigslist Scams

 

Today will find a break from the usual Herkamer and Gertrude stories to address a terrible problem that is becoming more and more frequent within our own community. For lack of a better term, I will call it “Craigslist Scams.” This particular writing implicates automobile scams, but I'm sure there are other related areas.

Three times this week I have had people tell me about SCAMS they have encountered from Craigslist ads where the advertiser has offered a vehicle for sale, usually well below the market price, had them send money, and then never receive the vehicle. In one case, the person actually went to a house where they had a woman posing as an attorney who wrote up the papers, told her that they would service and clean the vehicle and she could pick it up on the next day. When she went back to the house, the people and the car were gone. They stole three thousand and seventy dollars from her, and she later discovered they were from another country.

If the ad seems to good to be true, it probably is. The two most common stories are these: “I'm in the military, and I'm being transferred to Iraq, Afghanistan, Egypt, you name it, and I need to sell my car before I leave, etc.” or “I've just gone through a divorce, and I was awarded this car that was my spouses, and I do not want it any more, etc.” Then, they ask interested buyers to email them about the vehicle, to which if there is a response, usually a delayed one, they tell the interested buyer to set up an “EBAY” account to which they can put their money. They go on to add, once the money is in the account, they will ship the car which is usually in a crate ready for shipping in California or up north somewhere. They say they will allow five days to examine the car once it arrives before the money is transferred to their account. HOWEVER, if someone is so foolish to go along, when the interested buyer puts the money in the Ebay account, they soon find it gone, and they have lost their investment. There is no car. There is no trial period. There is only a loss!

PLEASE BE WARNED! The people who write these ads are many times from outside our country, and there is very little that can be done to stop them. Take a lesson from three people I spoke with this week. One lost nineteen hundred dollars, another lost over three thousand, and another lost eight thousand dollars. These thieves are cruel, and this money was tax return money, and now these three have nothing to show! If there are doubts about a deal, PLEASE find a reputable person who knows about vehicle purchasing to verify the purchase. It is time yo STOP these “CRAIGSLIST SCAMS” before others in our community are affected by these thieves.

Until tomorrow...Why Say More?

Herkamer and Gertrude and the Bird Pen Part 5

The bird pen craft made by Herkamer's wife Gertrude has caused him to be the ridicule target of Herkamer's office. The story left off with Dana, a co-worker of Herkamer, receiving a call from Gertrude to ask for her review of her latest craft.

“Oh yes, Gertrude,” Dana responded, “Everyone in the office has seen it. Take a picture? Sure, hold on a moment...” Dana reached in her Louis Vuitton handbag to retrieve her smart phone. Dana was always fashionable and loved to put down others who couldn't function as she could. “Hold it up now,” Dana said in a very condescending tone, “No, rather, hold it like a baby, and let me send this picture to Gertrude.” Herkamer complied because he knew the drill - if he didn't comply all day long Dana would haunt him with the idea of taking a picture. Dana took the photo as the entire room roared with more laughter and “Bird Pen Jokes” until Herkamer could stand it no more. “Stop it!” he yelled. “Stop it now! I will not have you laughing at my wife in that manner! It's one thing to yell at me and quite another when it comes to making fun of my wife!”

The room grew silent, and Dana started to make an apology, but knew that this was not the appropriate time. She slide back in her desk, very carefully texted the picture to Gertrude, and went back to her work. Herkamer knew that he had quieted the room, so he relieved them by saying much more softly. “I know it's ugly, and it probably could have been made by a three year old, but it wasn't. It was made by my wife, and one of the agreements we made a long time ago was that we would not tolerate putting each other down in public. We saw so many couples end in divorce because they ridiculed each other in public, and we made a pact to never be a part of that behavior. So, I just cannot allow it here. Thank you for your understanding in this, and now I think I will go home to change my shirt.”

The co-workers were stunned. They had never seen Herkamer so bold. They watched as he walked out the door with the bird pen still in his pocket, get in his car and drive away. Herkamer made a stand that day, and the impression had a great impact as each co-worker called his or her spouse to apologize for their behavior in the past few days.

Herkamer drove home, pulled in the driveway, walked in the front door, and placed the bird pen in a piece of ceramic that was protruding from their favorite framed collage. Gertrude came to meet him, realized his reason for coming home when she saw his shirt, kissed him, and said “Thank you. I just needed to know that you still love me for me, even if I give you a weird little craft.” Herkamer blushed, and said, “I do.”

Stay tuned for more Herkamer and Gertrude stories. Same blog time. Same blog spot. Until tomorrow...Why Say More?

Herkamer and Gertrude and The Bird Pen Part 4

Herkamer was in a precarious position. His wife Gertrude sent him to work with the latest of her colorful creations, a bird pen, and now she expected him to show it off at the office. She had just phoned “Dana”, Herkamer's co-worker when he heard Dana say...

“Oh yeah, Gertrude. No, he hasn't shown it to us yet. Oh, we will be sure to see it. Yes. Yes. Alright. Oh as soon as I get off this phone. Right. Right. Okay. Okay. Bye bye now.” Dana couldn't get a word in for the rapid talking of Gertrude. She hung up the phone and promptly made an announcement to the six other co-workers in the room. “Everyone. Can I have your attention please?” she said gleefully with a tone of anxiousness in her voice and continued, “Herkamer has another “craft” that Gertrude has made for him.” The whole room stopped their work, looked up, and began to laugh and joke around. “What is it this time Herk? A new chair cover?” said Jack. Herkamer remembered the last one that was a brown teddy bear chair cover that showed the bear face on the back of the chair. The trouble was it looked like a Picasso assemblage of furry material, and it smelled like it had been dipped in garbage. “How about another toilet paper doughnut holder?” said Marisol to which the room burst out in tearful laughter, and Herkamer remembered Gertrude's idea for holding doughnuts was one-half of a toilet paper holder painted lime green with raspberry polka dots. “Where is new one, Herkamer?” questioned Dana. “In the car,” said Herkamer exasperatedly as he slumped his head toward his desk. “Well, go get it.” She demanded, and all the room chimed in. “Yeah, go get it. We can't wait to see it.” “Hurry,” said Dana and then threatened, “You don't want me to call Gertrude back do you?” After all the room joined in with the threat, Herkamer reluctantly got up from his desk, and started for his car.

Everyone in the office went to the window to watch as Herkamer walked to his car. For a moment he thought about driving off and never returning to work, but he sluggishly ambled toward his car, opened the door, climbed into the backseat, and grabbed the bird pen. There it lay with one eye looking directly at Herkamer, and now a yellow feather crossed the front portion of the craft and was in the shape of a smile. Herkamer took a moment to find the other eye, stuffed the bird pen in his pocket, and began to walk back into the office.

Everyone scampered away from the window, and went back to their desks when Herkamer opened the office door. All attention was upon Herkamer, and Jack said happily, “Well, let's see it.,” to which everyone chimed in, “Yeah, let's see it.” Herkamer lifted his coat, reached his hand inside, located the bird pen, and noticed that there was a rainbow of colors on his brand new shirt. The bird feathers had bled an array of coloring down his garment which added to the drama. Finally, he revealed the bird pen, and the room roared in laughter. “What the heck is it?” laughed Jack. “My, my, my” started Marisol with a chuckle, “I've never seen quite the... the...the abundance of colors.” Dana noticed Herkamer's shirt and said, “And look, he has the shirt to match!” to which another roar of laughter filled the room. Herkamer walked embarrassingly toward his desk, and was interrupted in his misery, when the phone rang.

Dana answered, and said with a smile, “Oh yes Gertrude. We all saw it.”...

Stay tuned tomorrow for more of the story. Same blog time. Same blog spot. Until tomorrow...Why Say More?

Herkamer and Gertrude and The Bird Pen Part 3

Yesterday found Herkamer leaving for work with Gertrude's “Bird Pen” in tow. Although he hated this new craft from his wife, Herkamer tried to acquiesce to Gertrude's request to take it to work. Gertrude was now acting as though the bird pen was alive, said several goodbyes to it, and now has called Herkamer wondering if the pen was buckled in to which Herkamer responded by throwing the pen into the car's back seat. One problem developed though, the plastic eye on the bird pen that had fallen off before, now lie upon the front seat starring at Herkamer. To add to Herkamer's dilemma Gertrude was requesting a photo of the “Bird Pen” riding to work with Herkamer. The story continues...

“Uh, Gerty,” Herkamer began with a quivering voice, “The Bird is resting now. He's taking a nap in the back seat.” “What?” responded Gertrude interrogatively, “You put him in the back seat? How did he get back there?” Herkamer was about to answer when he looked down at the eye that was laying on the seat beside him. The eye seemed to talk to Herkamer. and he swore he heard it say, “You better not lie, boy. You better not lie.” So, Herkamer said, “What? What? Honey? Gerty? Gerty? I think I'm losing this call. Can you hear me? Can you hear me, Gerty?” Although Gertrude answered “Herkamer, Herkamer, are you there?” over and over again, Herkamer finally hung up and quickly turned off his phone. Whew, he had avoided that disaster.

Herkamer arrived to work and left the Bird pen and the eye in his car. As soon as he was in his office, he received a phone call from Gertrude. “Herkamer, are you alright?” she asked with a worried tone. Herkamer said, “Oh yes, Gerty, we must have had a bad connection.” “And how is the bird?”Gertrude asked. “Oh, he's fine. Everything is fine. I need to start work now, Gerty. “ Herkamer tried to brush Gertrude off, but she persisted. “How does everyone at work like him?” She asked with gleeful expectancy in her voice and continued, “Does Mary just love it? And how about Jack? What about Dana and Peg?” Herkamer couldn't get a word in edge wise as she continued, “Let me talk to Dana. I know she just loved it and will want to know exactly how I made it.” Before Herkamer could answer Gertrude said, “Oh never mind, I will call her myself. Goodbye Herky, have a great day.” Gertrude abruptly hung up with Herkamer, and in just a moment, he could hear the phone ringing at Dana's desk. “It's her.” Herkamer exclaimed under his breath.

Herkamer heard Dana answer her phone, “Oh hi Gertrude.” so he...

Stay tuned tomorrow for more of the story. Same blog time. Same blog spot. Until tomorrow...Why Say More?

Herkamer and Gertrude and The Bird Pen Part 2

Yesterday Gertrude made a new “craft” that she called the “bird pen”. She had just abruptly presented it to Herkamer from behind her back which caused one of the plastic eyes to fall to the floor. As she bent over to pick up the eye, Herkamer made a face and said...

“Gerty, um, do you really think this looks...” He was suddenly interrupted by Gertrude who was oblivious to his comment and said, “This will look so nice in your pocket when you go to work.” As she stood and licked the little fallen eye, she promptly reattached it and continued gleefully, “You will be the talk of the office today.” Herkamer was about to object when he could see that there would be no convincing her or arguing against this purpose of hers, so he kept the cylindrical blob in his pocket for now. One of the plastic eyes was cockeyed and looked directly up at Herkamer as if to say, “You better not say a word, buddy. You better not say one word.”

Gertrude continued to rant about how much time and effort she put into the bird pen as Herkamer ate a quick bowl of cereal, went to brush his teeth, and started out the door. For a moment Herkamer thought, “to hear her speak you would think she put together the Eiffel Tower” and now he was the proud recipient of her creation. He started out the door to go to work when Gertrude stopped him, petted her little project and talked to it as if it were real. She kissed Herkamer goodbye, and Herkamer closed the door, began to walk to his car, but was interrupted by Gertrude one more time as she opened the door and said, “Have a good flight little birdie. Tell me all about your day when you get home. I'll be waiting for you.” Herkamer rolled his eyes, shook his head in unbelief and climbed in his SUV. He continued to hear Gertrude talking as he pulled out of the driveway.

Herkamer was not even around the corner from his house when he quickly took the bird project out of his pocket. He was just about to throw it into the back seat when his cell phone rang. It was Gertrude. “Hello” Herkamer answered inquisitively, “How's my birdie?” Gertrude asked. Herkamer tried to answer when she continued, “Did you put him in a seat belt? Is the temperature in the car okay. What about food? Are you going to stop to get some food for him? And water?” Herkamer rolled his eyes but went along with Gertrude's antics. “Oh yeah,” he said kindly buy with a tone of sarcasm, “I'm going to buy him breakfast and lunch at one of the fanciest bird restaurants in town.” “Good, good, good” Gertrude replied. But as he spoke, Herkamer took the bird pen out of his pocket, threw it abruptly into the back seat of his car only to hear Gertrude ask, “Herkamer, I want to see a picture of my birdie riding to work with you. Can you stop and get a picture? Huh? Herky, huh?”

Herkamer's face froze for a moment as if to say, “Oh no!”, and then he noticed that the eye that had previously fallen off the bird detached and was laying in the seat next to him. As the eye looked up at Herkamer...

Stay tuned tomorrow for more of the story. Same blog time. Same blog spot. Until tomorrow...Why Say More?

Herkamer and Gertrude and The Bird Pen

Gertrude loved to make crafts, but there was one problem. She wasn't very good at them, and every time she made something, Herkamer was the beneficiary of it, thus, the story of the bird pen.

Gertrude awoke early to a bright new day with ambition in her heart, and crafts raging through her mind. Gertrude read all the craft magazines and could not pass a craft store without buying at least one or two items from within. However, she was rather independent, and never made crafts according to book or magazine instructions. She always made something totally of her “own inspiration”. Today her “inspiration” was to make a “bird pen.”

By adding just a few feathers glued together in a birdlike shape to an ordinary ball point pen, she would transform a regular writing instrument into a conversational piece for many to enjoy. She hurried to her craft table and began pulling out feathers and gluing them to a pen. First there was chartreuse, then raspberry, a little orange, and bright yellow. She followed them with reds, oranges, teals and ended with an assortment of blues. Although the “bird” was colorful, it looked like a child had rolled together play doe and pushed it on to the end of a stick. She happily glue two large plastic eyes on the top of it and promptly yelled in a cheerful voice, “Herky! Come see what I made for you to take to work today!”

Herkamer was shaving in the bathroom when he heard Gertrude's fateful words, “made for you.” When those words were spoken, Herkamer knew that it usually meant he was going to be humiliated once again. Herkamer remembered that he was to love his wife at all times, so he said reluctantly and inquisitively with a little pain in his voice, “What is it, Gerty? I'm sure it's something special.” “Oh, it is”, said Gertrude happily as she primped the colorful craft, “I can't wait for you to see it and take it to the office today.” Herkamer's eyes widened as he finished shaving and dragged both his hands from the top of his face to his chin. Whenever Herkamer made that gesture it meant he could not believe what he was about to endure and wondered “Why me?”

Herkamer walked into the living room to an awaiting Gertrude who had the “bird pen” hidden behind her back. “Try to guess what it is,” she said gleefully. “Oh I'm not sure, Gerty, how about just showing it to me.” To which she responded, “Taadah!” as she abruptly pulled the “bird pen” from behind her. With her sudden movement one of the eyes fell to the floor. “Oh I can fix that with a little glue,” reacted Gertrude flippantly and unfazed as she bent to the floor to pick up the fallen eye but continued to hold the “bird pen” in Herkamer's full view.

As she bent down, Herkamer squinched his face, turned his head to the side, grimaced and said...

Stay tuned tomorrow for more of the story. Same blog time. Same blog spot. Until tomorrow...Why Say More?

Herkamer and Gertrude The Motorcycle Part 6

Herkamer's middle of the night passion for a motorcycle had caused a series of troubles, and now his wife Gertrude's favorite music box was smashed to smithereens. When Gertrude stormed out of the bedroom to confront him for the third time, Herkamer tried to hide the jagged pieces in his front pants, but the main music mechanism which flew under the nearby bookshelf made a “Ding da Dink” sound. Gertrude heard it and said...

“Herkamer! No, no no! Not my great-grandmother's...” Gertrude's voice tapered off as she pushed her hand under the bookshelf to retrieve the music box. A tear ran down her face as she pulled the box out only to find the little music maker with one piece of ceramic attached. Gertrude slowly looked up at Herkamer who was now bearing a face that looked like a little boy who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and said, “Herkamer, how could you, why would you, what did I ever...” She burst into tears and cried.

Herkamer felt horrible, and went over to hug his wife. “I'm sorry, Gerty, I didn't mean to, I mean, it was an accident, and I, um, I, oh, this is all my fault. I'm so sorry. All I wanted was a motorcycle, and now look at all the trouble I've caused.” Gertrude held him for a few moments, and said, “I have an idea. Get the pieces that are in your front pants...” Herkamer attempted to hide them, but knew he was caught, “...and let's make a mosaic out of them.” “A mosaic?” Herkamer questioned wondering where this was going. “We'll do it in the morning. Let's go to bed.” Gertrude said softly, and Herkamer complied knowing that he caused enough trouble for one night.

Early in the morning, Herkamer and Gertrude went out to the garage, grabbed a few supplies, and assembled pieces of the now shattered music box within a frame. They placed the music mechanism in the middle of the artwork, and hung the work on the living room wall. They agreed that any time either of them had a wild idea, the other would turn the handle on the music mechanism which would serve as a reminder of what happens with a wild idea.

As they sat on the living room couch to observe and admire their work, Herkamer said with grand brilliance in his voice, “Maybe we should take up painting, sculpturing, or even better yet, let's do pottery. Yeah, that would be a great plan. We could do it together, and...” As Herkamer continued his ranting, Gertrude got up, walked over to the mosaic, turned the handle, and the music began to play. She looked over to Herkamer who had suddenly stopped talking, and had a huge smile on his face. “Enough said?” questioned Gertrude. “Enough said.” Agreed Herkamer.

Stay tuned for other Herkamer and Gertrude stories tomorrow. Same blog time. Same blog spot. Until tomorrow...Why say more?

Herkamer and Gertrude The Motorcycle Part 5

Herkamer's middle of the night passion was to get a motorcycle, and although he never road one before, he now was banging around printers, making loud noises and pretending to ride motorcycles on the bicycle he dragged into his living room. He had just been making motorcycle noises when his wife Gertrude scolded him for waking her up...

As soon as Gertrude slammed the door to their bedroom, Herkamer climbed back aboard the bicycle and silently pretended to ride motorcycles again. This time, however, he made the noises silently and occasionally looked toward the bedroom door with a smirk and a stuck out tongue as if to say, “I'm riding anyway!”

As he turned his head with a snap from his rebellious childlike antics, he suddenly began to lose balance. The bicycle leaned too far to his left side, and KABLAAM it fell directly into Gertrude's favorite coffee table. Gertrude's most-loved music box given to her by her great-grand mother and passed down from generation to generation which sat on top of the coffee table was now flying through the air. Herkamer remembered his dad's favorite phrase, “Son, you only get one chance at some things.” “OH NO!” said Herkamer softly as he squinted his face and watched the music box hit a wall, explode into fifty pieces or more and was scattered everywhere.

Herkamer climbed out from under the bicycle and began anxiously collecting pieces. “If she finds this out, she'll kill me” he said under his breath as he hurried and looked occasionally toward the bedroom door. He gathered the larger pieces, but the music mechanism slid under a book rack that was near the crash point. He quickly stuffed the pieces into the front of his pants just as Gertrude abruptly opened the bedroom door, rushed to the living room and said angrily, “What in the world are you doing out here, Herkamer?” “Nothing” Herkamer said innocently as he adjusted the jagged pieces of the music box in his pants. “Then why is that bicycle laying on my favorite coffee table?” Gertrude's aggravated inquiry continued, “and where is my music box?” Herkamer was just about to lie and say he didn't know when a “Ding da dink” sound came from under the book rack. Gertrude's face pursed in anger. Her bodied stiffened, and she...

Stay tuned tomorrow. Same blog time. Same blog spot. Until tomorrow...Why Say More?

Herkamer Gertrude Pause for Another MRZ CENTRE Outreach Story

The writer decided that the motorcycle story from Herkamer and Gertrude needed a temporary interruption, a commercial of sorts, to bring to the reader another MRZ CENTRE Outreach story. Every second and forth Saturday of the month, volunteers arrive early to serve people whom they do not know groceries, clothing, shoes, cell phone calls, literature and music, medical care and now even hair cuts, and all is given for free. Today the story comes from “The Volunteers”.

They come from all backgrounds, and they come from all walks of life. Doctors, nurses, bankers and homemakers, carpenters and dental workers, young and old, different races and social strata, arrive to volunteer just a couple hours to help others in need. Some arrive at seven to help set up tables, put out clothing, align the shoes, and place books and cds on tables. Others come a little later and join to move boxes, ready bags, registration, or the cell phone area. Some help with sorting clothing or putting garments on racks, and others prepare coffee, muffins and cookies to give away. If medical help arrives, the makeshift medical room is readied, and if someone comes to cut hair, a temporary barber shop is prepared. After everyone is served, many volunteers help put everything back where they found it. Basically, it's people helping people for just a couple hours per Saturday.

There are ways to help, and volunteers are involved in these too. First, food is bought so inexpensively that people are best advantaged to donate small amounts of money to Calvary Chapel designated MRZ CENTRE Outreach. Usually the purchase of over one thousand pounds of food costs one hundred and fifty dollars or less. This usually provides groceries for about two hundred to three hundred people. Second, people can give their time. Show up one Saturday and help for an hour or two. Everyone is usually finished by ten o'clock in the morning, so only a portion of the Saturday is used. Third, provide shoes, usually one pair of nice tennis shoes makes life easier for one child or adult. Forth, medical provisions. Sure, medical help is always welcomed, and it is for a very short amount of time, but even small things such as alcohol, band aids, hydrogen peroxide, reading glasses, etc. help people care for minor medical needs which allows them to get by in tough times. Finally, clothing may be donated. There are tons and tons of clothes given, however, children and men clothing are the least donated. There are plenty of women's garments to give away, but children and men's clothing are in short supply.

All donations except for the actual volunteer opportunities are received either at Calvary Chapel of Tallahassee located at 8614 Mahan Drive, Tallahassee, Florida, 32309 or MRZ Storage located at 2908 Mahan Drive, Tallahassee, Florida 32308. Those who wish to join the host of volunteers arrive at 118 North Monroe Street, Tallahassee, Florida anywhere from seven to eight o'clock every second and forth Saturday with giant smiles warm welcomes on their faces.

Yes, volunteers giving everything away for free, especially their time and love, every second and forth Saturday of each month, and it's in the middle of our city just because they care about others. Volunteers, who provide such a wonderful effort for such a small time have discovered that life has a great deal more meaning when they reach beyond their own desires for just a short time to do unto others as they would have others to do unto them.

Until tomorrow...Why Say More?

Herkamer and Gertrude The Motorcycle Part 4

Herkamer's middle of the night ambition has disturbed Gertrude's sleep over and over again. His sudden obsession for a motorcycle found him plundering through the office, dropping the printer, and now he has decided that he needs to practice riding a motorcycle in the middle of the living room at three o'clock in the morning. He had just slammed the bicycle into the coffee table and knocked over a lamp...

As quietly as possible, Herkamer tried to rearrange the furniture to accommodate the bicycle. He was totally oblivious to the noise he was making and continued to align the bicycle in front of the television. Herkamer straddled the bike, leaned over as though he was riding in the wind, and began making motor noises. “Baroooooommmmmmmmm, Brum, brum, brum, brum, brum,” he pretended to start the engine. “ Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, Waaaaaaaaaaaaaa, Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa” he raced through the gears, and acted as though he was racing down the highway. He pretended to be outrunning the other motorcycles, race cars, and the police. He was totally wrapped up in his imagination when he looked over to the hallway. There stood Gertrude with her arms crossed, tapping her foot, and with a face that was so angry that paint was soon to be melting off the walls. “HERKAMER MERTON!” she said through gritted teeth, “I AM TRYING TO SLEEP!”

Now, Herkamer heard one time that a man could be nagged to death, but he also knew that there was no wrath like a woman's scorn, which to him seemed a lot worse than the continual drip of nagging. He apologized, and with a sheepish boy-like look slowly dismounted the bicycle. Gertrude turned abruptly and walked back to the bedroom. The slamming door was just an exclamation mark on her ranting, but as soon as the door was shut, Herkamer...

Stay tuned tomorrow. Same blog time. Same blog spot. Until tomorrow...Why Say More?

Herkamer and Gertrude The Motorcycle Part 4

Herkamer's middle of the night ambition has disturbed Gertrude's sleep over and over again. His sudden obsession for a motorcycle found him plundering through the office, dropping the printer, and now he has decided that he needs to practice riding a motorcycle in the middle of the living room at three o'clock in the morning. He had just slammed the bicycle into the coffee table and knocked over a lamp...

As quietly as possible, Herkamer tried to rearrange the furniture to accommodate the bicycle. He was totally oblivious to the noise he was making and continued to align the bicycle in front of the television. Herkamer straddled the bike, leaned over as though he was riding in the wind, and began making motor noises. “Baroooooommmmmmmmm, Brum, brum, brum, brum, brum,” he pretended to start the engine. “ Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, Waaaaaaaaaaaaaa, Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa” he raced through the gears, and acted as though he was racing down the highway. He pretended to be outrunning the other motorcycles, race cars, and the police. He was totally wrapped up in his imagination when he looked over to the hallway. There stood Gertrude with her arms crossed, tapping her foot, and with a face that was so angry that paint was soon to be melting off the walls. “HERKAMER MERTON!” she said through gritted teeth, “I AM TRYING TO SLEEP!”

Now, Herkamer heard one time that a man could be nagged to death, but he also knew that there was no wrath like a woman's scorn, which to him seemed a lot worse than the continual drip of nagging. He apologized, and with a sheepish boy-like look slowly dismounted the bicycle. Gertrude turned abruptly and walked back to the bedroom. The slamming door was just an exclamation mark on her ranting, but as soon as the door was shut, Herkamer...

Stay tuned tomorrow. Same blog time. Same blog spot. Until tomorrow...Why Say More?

Herkamer and Gertrude The Motorcycle Part 3

Herkamer decided that he needed a motorcycle Int the middle of the night, after awakening his wife Gertrude, and fulfilling a desire to print a photo of a motorcycle, the printer malfunctioned, and he accidentally threw it across the office. After slamming into a metal filing cabinet the printer hit the floor, and Gertrude opened her bedroom door and said...

“Herkamer Merton!” “I am trying to sleep in here. Why in the world are you making all this noise in the middle of the night?” Herkamer apologized profusely and promised not to make any more noise. “Go back to bed, muffins” (Herkamer called Gertrude “muffins” when he knew he was in trouble.), “I'll be more quiet.” Gertrude shut the door firmly, and just then, the printer started printing on the floor. Herkamer hurried to the printer which lay on the floor and received the picture of the motorcycle he was salivating over.

Herkamer picked up the picture, held it out at a distance so he could see every detail and imagined himself riding this awesome bike. He turned the paper this way, then that, this way, then that, and decided he needed to practice riding it. “Hmmmm,” Herkamer wondered to himself, “How could I practice?” He thought for a moment, then another, and said excitedly, “I know, I'll go get my bicycle!”

Herkamer stammered out the front door, rushed to the garage, and opened the garage door. There was his bicycle in like-new condition hanging from the ceiling right where he left it after deciding in the past that he was now going to be a bicycle racer. Herkamer was very good at starting projects and ventures, he just wasn't too good at finishing them. The tires were flat, but it made no difference as he was just going to use it for motorcycle riding practice so he started toward his front door with the bicycle in hand.

Herkamer opened the front door, very noisily pushed the bicycle through the opening and then pushed it into the coffee table, knocked over a lamp, and...

Stay tuned tomorrow. Same blog time. Same blog spot. Until tomorrow...Why Say More?

Herkamer and Gertrude The Motorcycle Part 2

Yesterday Herkamer decided that he needed a motorcycle in the middle of the night, and he awoke his dear wife Gertrude to tell her at two-thirty in the morning. After tossing and turning for a while, he decided to look on the internet at motorcycles for sale, but awoke Gertrude again to let her know he was going to look. She promptly threw a pillow in his direction as he walked obliviously out the bedroom door.

Herkamer settled into the office next to the bedroom where the computer was located and began to look. His slightly overweight body always made the office chair squeak, but he totally disregarded the fact that Gertrude was trying to sleep next door. He searched motorcycles for sale and began to look at their awesome appearances and styles. Since Herkamer had never ridden a motorcycle before, he really had no idea what to buy, but he knew he needed an awesome looking big one. “Oh yeah!” he said loudly as he observed a five hundred bike, but then he saw a six hundred, then a seven fifty, but then a one thousand. “Now that's what I'm talking about,” Herkamer said excitedly. His dreaming was abruptly interrupted when Gertrude opened the bedroom door and said, “Herky, I am trying to sleep in here.” “Oh, okay, sorry honey” he replied excitedly, “but come look at this bike. This it the one like I want. It's sparkle red with all the chrome,” He was going to continue when Gertrude said sharply, “Herky, it's three o' clock in the morning. Can't this wait?” “Oh sure, Gerty,” Herkamer replied, “we'll look in the morning”.

Gertrude closed the door and went back to bed, but Herkamer continued to look at the awesome looking bike and decided to print a picture of it. When he clicked the printer button, the printer began to make all kinds of noises. “Click, clack, baroom, tick, tick, tick, bing.” went the printer until it stopped midway through the printing. The computer screen showed out of ink. “But how could that be?” Herkamer questioned aloud. “I just put ink in this stupid thing two days ago.” Herkamer picked up the printer and began to shake it.”Stupid printer” he said loudly as he shook the devise, and suddenly the tray fell out. “Kablam!” the tray hit the floor and threw paper everywhere. Herkamer shuffled around through the scattered papers until his foot slipped on one of them. The printer flew out of Herkamer's hand, hit a metal filing cabinet in the room and slammed to the floor. “Crash!” went the printer and plastic pieces flew everywhere.

With that horrendous sound, Gertrude appeared angrily out of the bedroom again, and said...

Stay tuned for more of the story tomorrow. Same blog time. Same blog spot. Until tomorrow...Why Say More?

Herkamer and Gertrude The Motorcycle

Herkamer woke up after having a dream. He war riding on a motorcycle on the Blue Ridge Parkway in North Carolina. Gertrude was riding behind him and as the cool, brisk wind blew softly in their faces, they were happy in love as they rode together. Gertrude hugged him as they road, and they communicated thru headsets that were set within their helmets. Life was grand, and they were enjoying every moment of it. That's where the trouble began.

“Gertrude” Herkamer said softly as he shook her awake beside him “We need a motorcycle.” “What?” she said in a fuzzy tone. “We need a motorcycle.” “Herkamer, what time is it?” Gertrude asked. Herkamer looked over at the clock and noticed the time. He sheepishly said, “Two Thirty.” “Two-Thirty?!” Gertrude responded in an aggravated tone. “You woke me up at two-thirty to tell me that we need a motorcycle!” “Ah, yeah.” said Herkamer as if to say “Duh”. Gertrude glared at him began to turn toward the opposite side of the bed and said in a mother-like tone, “Go back to sleep.”

Now Herkamer knew that if a person blesses with a loud voice early in the morning, it will be like a curse to them, but he continued anyway. Herkamer spoke a little louder, “Gertrude, we need a motorcycle.” He repeated a little more loudly, “Gertrude, we need a motorcycle!” At this point Gertrude knew that she would never get any sleep until she responded in some sufficient manner as to get Herkamer to be quiet, so she said, “Herky, if you are so dead set on this motorcycle thing, we can go look at them tomorrow. I have a couple places that I need to go first. You can go with me, and then we will go look at motorcycles. Now, would you please go back to sleep?” Herkamer agreed, but then couldn't sleep.

Herkamer tossed, then turned, tossed, then turned, and then he tossed and turned again. Herkamer decided to go look at motorcycles online, but before he left, he awoke Gertrude again by saying, “Gertrude, I'm going to look online at motorcycles.” After being awakened again, Gertrude was very perturbed and said angrily, “Would you just go look at those motorcycles online and let me get some sleep?” Herkamer responded obliviously to her anger, and said, “Good idea, Gertrude. I think I'll go look online for motorcycles,” and with that Gertrude threw a pillow at him as he walked in a stupor out of the bedroom door.

Stay tuned for more of the story tomorrow. Same blog time. Same blog spot. Until tomorrow...Why Say More?

Herkamer and Gertrude The List 7

Yesterday Herkamer was trying his best to fulfill his wife Gertrude's "Honey Do" list when after starting to mow, he ran out of gas, received a ticket for speeding, found a gas station with bags over the nozzles, and had to avoid another policeman encounter. He arrived home only to hear Gertrude yelling at him as he arrived in the driveway. He had just started toward to mower to refuel it when he encountered a rattlesnake that was coiled and impeding his path. With Gertrude literally climbing on his back, he walked slowly toward the storage shed.

Herkamer slowly walked and kept his eye on the disturbed reptile. At any moment the fierce creature could lunge and reach the awaiting leg of Herkamer or Gertrude. Just as Herkamer was keeping his eye closely on the snake, he turned as he heard another snake on the other side of him. Gertrude began screaming in his ear. Herkamer's eyes grew wide open as he now had two snakes to manage. He took another step toward the shed, and another snake appeared, then another, then another, and he was terrified as he realized that he had recently wished for a whole yard full of snakes if it would keep Gertrude quiet. Now, it was as though his wish was coming true, except Gertrude was screaming!

Another snake appeared, then another, and another. Gertrude was screaming, "Herkamer, Herkamer" when suddenly he felt something latch on his leg. It had a massive grip, and he knew impending pain was about to occur. "Herkamer, Herkamer" Gertrude kept saying, as Herkamer began to shake.

Finally, Gertrude screamed "Herkamer!", and the loudness startled him, and he awoke. There stood Gertrude at the side of his bed with her hand shaking his leg. "Honey, honey" Gertrude said softly. "Were you having a bad dream?" Herkamer opened his eyes and rubbed them for a moment, and said, "Yes I was, there was the mower out of gas, a ticket for speeding, gas stations closed and not working, you yelling at me, and finally snakes in the yard." Gertrude smiled and said, "Herky, you know today is your day off, and we are just going to relax today, right? We have plenty of time for other things. We planned to just enjoy ourselves today, right?"

Herkamer smiled, hugged his wife, and said, "Now, this is the wife that I knew I married."

Stay tuned for more Herkamer and Gertrude stories tomorrow. Same Blog Time. Same Blog Spot. Until tomorrow, Why Say More?

Herkamer and Gertrude The List 6

Yesterday Herkamer was hurrying to leave a gas station that had fuel hoses covered with bags after a woman yelled that there was a mad man in the parking lot. Herkamer had lost it from trying to fulfill “the list” that his wife Gertrude gave him early on a Saturday morning.

Herkamer drove away from the station quickly, and as he sped down the road, he passed a blazing police car with its lights flashing and siren sounding. As the car passed, Herkamer noticed that it was the same officer inside that had stopped him earlier, so Herkamer sped up a little more. He raced back to the first gas station to finally find the “opened” sign flashing outside. He promptly purchase some fuel, and hurried out of the parking lot. For now it seemed he was safe, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he traveled toward his home.

As Herkamer arrived in his driveway, he noticed Gertrude on the front steps. She was tapping her foot and had a wooden spoon in her hand. For a moment Herkamer had flashbacks to when his mother would greet him at the door right after he did something wrong. A shutter ran through his body as he remembered those wooden spoon whippings. He drove the car closer to the house and could see that Gertrude was already talking.

When he got out of the car, Gertrude continued in sentence as though he had been listening to her, “and why isn't this grass cut already? Did you think that you could just go off and leave without saying a word? What is wrong with you Herkamer? You must be one of the laziest men I have ever seen. My mother was right,” she continued as she rolled her eyes to the heavens, “He's nothing but a bum, and you are marrying beneath you, she would say.” Gertrude continued looking toward the sky, and said, “Mother, Oh Mother, I am so sorry I didn't listen to you. Why didn't I listen to you?”

Herkamer bit his lip and slowly walked around to the back of the car where the gas can was, opened the trunk, and lifted out the heavy can. He lifted it toward Gertrude as if to say, “Does this look lazy?” and continued about his work. Herkamer knew it was folly to engage in conversation with Gertrude at this time, so he walked toward the mower to fill it with gasoline. Gertrude followed him, and was still yapping when they were stopped in their tracks by a coiled rattlesnake that was impeding the path to the mower. Gertrude stopped talking immediately, and Herkamer wished for a yard full of rattlesnakes if they had that effect.

Herkamer slowly walked backwards and toward the storage shed, and Gertrude who had now climbed upon Herkamer's back...

Stay tuned for more of the story tomorrow. Same blog time. Same blog spot. Until tomorrow...Why Say More?

Herkamer and Gertrude The List Part 5

Yesterday Herkamer was working early on a Saturday morning to fulfill a list of chores given to him by his wife Gertrude. His first chore was mowing, and he ran out of gas after mowing for only a few minutes. On his way to the gas station, a police officer pulled him over for speeding and other violations, and after making him “get out of the car and spread them” had written him a ticket. The officer was just about to give Herkamer the ticket after writing another entry for not having his insurance card with him...

“Turn around” the officer directed towards Herkamer. Herkamer removed his hands from the car, repositioned his feet to a normal position, and face the officer. “Here is your ticket sir” the officer stated and added firmly, “Now be a little more attentive to your speed buddy. Have a nice day.” Herkamer said politely, “Thank you, sir” and wondered why he was thanking this officer for the stupid ticket. He looked down at the total and said, “Seven Hundred and Eighty One Dollars?! For what?” He continued to read and when he read “The City thanks you for your patronage”, he crumbled the ticket in his hand, got back in his car, and drove toward the gas station.

When he arrived, the closest gas station wasn't opened yet. Herkamer read the sign, “Open 8 a.m.”. Now he had a decision. Either he would wait at this station for another twenty minutes or he could drive five miles to the next station. He decided to drive, and all the while he kept saying out loud, “That stupid list is costing me the whole day, and now it's cost me seven hundred and eighty one dollars. When I get home I'm gonna walk in and tell her...”

He finally arrived at the second station only to notice the hose that every pump had bags over them and read, “Sorry, out of order”. Herkamer lost it. He stopped his car, threw it in park, opened his door, got out of the car and screamed, “ I hate the list! I hate the list! I hate the list!” He only noticed after his tirade a mother walking frantically into the store with her two small children saying to the store attendant, “There's a mad man in the parking lot. Call the police! Call the police!” Herkamer jumped back into his car, put the car in drive, and ...

Stay tuned for more of the story tomorrow. Same blog time. Same blog spot. Until tomorrow...Why Say More?

Herkamer and Gertrude The List Part 4

Yesterday Herkamer was busy early on a Saturday morning fulfilling a list of chores that his lovely wife Gertrude provided for him by waking him with loud pots and pans. His first chore was mowing the grass, and after mowing for less than five minutes he ran out of fuel. He was on his way to the gas station when he was pulled over by an officer for speeding. It was only when the officer asked Herkamer for his drivers license and registration that he remembered his wallet was home, and now he could only find a two year old registration for his car.

“Uh, officer”, Herkamer began sheepishly, “It seems that I have forgotten my wallet, and this is the only registration I have. You see, my wife...” The officer interrupted his excuse abruptly by saying, “Sir, I don't want to hear about your wife. I need to see your license and registration.” Herkamer handed the registration to theabrupt policeman, and although he was very perturbed within, he smiled, said yes sir over and over again. The officer responded, “Sir, could you step out of the car?” “Step out of the car?” Herkamer questioned. “Why?” “Sir, step out of the car now!” the officer demanded.

Herkamer sighed, and slowly opened his door. He mumbled, “You don't have to get all huffy about it. You sound just like my wi...” The officer interrupted his mumbling, and said, “Sir, turn around and spread your hands and feet on the car”. Herkamer slowly turned but was growing more and more angry by the moment. All he could think about was how it was only seven-thirty in the morning, and he should be sleeping, but because of “The List” he is now being patted down by a policeman who is in a very grumpy mood.

The End

(Sorry, had to do that. It's April Fools day you know.)

The officer patted down Herkamer, told him to stay in place, and began writing a ticket. “Sir, is this your current address?” “Yes sir, officer” Herkamer replied as his hands and knees began to ache from the awkward position. The officer wrote; and wrote; and wrote some more. The ten minutes of writing seemed like four hours, but finally the officer stopped writing his novel-like ticket, turned to Herkamer and said, “Sir, I'm citing you for speeding, driving without a license, failure to provide a current registration, improper lane changing, a broken taillight, and halitosis. You're breath stinks! But I'm letting you slide on your attitude.” He continued, “Do you have your insurance card with you?” Herkamer grimaced, wrinkled his face in embarrassment, and sheepishly said, “No sir”. The officer began writing again, and murmured, “That will be another violation that will only cost you an additional two hundred and thirty dollars...”

Stay tuned for more of the story tomorrow. Same blog time. Same blog page. Until tomorrow...Why Say more?