Crystalline Cool (21)

   
   "Crystalline Cool (21)"
   
   Duncan and his Dad lived somewhere between Apache and Medicine Park, Oklahoma.  They were happy.  Getting by.  Having that loving father and son synergy.  It was a sweet kiss on the cheek from the sublime angels and saints.
   Anyway, the old man had a surprise for his laboring son.  He had invited members of the Third Order of Franciscans to the house.  Wanted to see if his son would get involved.  Go on an idealistic crusade.  Dismiss Aimee, or keep her and produce.
   The Third Order didn't necessarily require traditional vows; however, things like a scapular could be worn, and as an Apache, Dad knew that Saint Francis and his holy resound were in touch with Mother Earth--a magnanimous thing.
   So, the old man lit up a cigar.  Rubbed his own shoulders through meditation and spirit.  Knew Duncan was and always will be just like Popeye the Sailor Man.  I am what I am.  Not into corporate greed and the glimmering gold that came along with it.  A nice humble life, in touch with the supernatural events of all eternity.  Gotta eat that spinach and get your iron.
   Duncan awoke.  Roadkill alongside him, wending their unique way into the old man's scenario of situating himself on the sofa with his green tea.  There, Duncan and the dog greeted the old man, him puffing away perpetually, always praying--without ceasing.
   After Duncan fed and watered Roadkill, he fixed himself some tea as well; next, took a seat next to the old man, his Dad saying:  "We have visitors coming today.  Yes, you are infused by the Holy Spirit, and though it says to never put God to the test, you will be given a quiz today."
   Duncan was like:  "Oh Dad--what did you do now?"
   The old man smiled; then, said:  "We should play it cool.  For now, it's time to watch some Barney Miller reruns."
   Duncan rubbed his head in a state of stress; regardless, he was happy to have the love of a father, and the loving licks of a holy hound.   

1957 Chevy

   
   "1957 Chevy"

   We've all had dreams concerning this auto icon; specifically, hearing the Arch-Angels sing:  "I'm feeling kinda heavy, like a '57 Chevy!"  Or did I pick up that communicative, blue-hued song from another source?  Regardless, this is an American Classic.
   In George Lucas' American Graffiti, a film that I believe arrived around 1973, we observe a young Harrison Ford piloting a 1955 Chevy, it mean in Midnight-Black, and having plenty of torque coming out of the hole; moreover, we meet the character Toad, a hot chick telling him:  "Peel out; I love it when guys peel out."
   And during my adolescence, us uncouth rednecks believed the STOP sign to be a mercurial acronym for:  SCRATCH TIRES ON PAVEMENT.  And we did.  But none of us possessed the cool of a 1957 Chevy.
   Here are some specs and performance levels from the:
   "1957 Chevy Bel Air Sport Coupe, 283 Corvette Ramjet"
  
RWD--manual 3-speed gearbox.

283 Cubic Inches.

Twin-Barrel Carburetor.

290 lb-ft torque.

An approximate 270 horses.

0-60:  8.2 Seconds.

Quarter Mile Drag:  16.7 Seconds.

Top Speed:  120 plus mph.    

Reverie concerning "All in the Family"

   
   . . . Reverie concerning "All in the Family" . . .
   
   All in the Family was always observed in my Pap's household.  I didn't get the vibe of the humor as a little kid, but Pap sure laughed, puffing away on his charcoal-filtered smokes.  
   This one episode, Dingbat had made friends with a nice Hebrew gentleman, and of course--Archie doth protest.  Furthermore, she said his name was Mr. Cunningham, to which Archie corrected, saying:  "He's not Jewish then Dingbat, for a Jew can't have Ham in their name."
   Cunningham can be traced back to the British Isles, kinda/sorta having an Irish meaning, being taken from a personal name, and from a double diminutive of the Old Irish personal name Conn, possibly meaning:  Chief.  
   Hell, I don't know.  But the 1970's and 1980's sure had excellent television shows--in my opinion.    

Crystalline Cool (20)

   
   "Crystalline Cool (20)"
   
   Duncan and Roadkill returned home after the naked and aqua-charged innocence of a shower that involved washing Aimee's yellow hair with anti-dandruff shampoo; next, she had washed his black mane that was shortly cropped.  There was no kissing, for she had no LISTERINE, and Duncan didn't want to pick up any oral thrush from a possibly yeasty mouth.  Too, he did not become fully aroused, reminding himself of Saint Francis having walked down the road and encountered hot chicks; then, the Fool for Christ got a bit excited, but swiftly stripped himself naked and jumped into the thorn bushes before complete arousal--all for the glory of chastity.
   Anyway, when he entered his humble habitat, Roadkill thundering in first, the old man was puffing away on a blueberry-flavored cigar and reading a Green Arrow comic book.  At that point, Duncan knew not to tell Dad about his pseudo-carnal experience, for he didn't want to get "the business" from the Apache's sense of stoic humor; nevertheless, in touch with the Earth and all the vibrations of Her forever-fluxing energy, the wise Native elder knew something was, well, almost up, or had been, yet the old man kept his mouth silent, simply saying:  "Reading a 1980's comic about the Emerald Archer, Oliver Queen, when he was a destitute and bleeding heart, having that cool Robin Hood mustache and goatee, which did not connect.  Damn, wish I could grow facial hair.  And I'm not being gay here son, but Oliver Queen is a nice-looking man.  I guess I've always had a thing for blondes, and that's why I married your mother--her hair was as bright as gold."
   Duncan thought of Aimee's cascading blonde, shook it off, and sat down next to Dad on the sofa; next, he glimpsed at the collectible comic book, verbally offering:  "I'm fond of Captain America myself.  Truth, Justice, and the American way." 
   Dad snorted, stating:  "When freedom was a real gift.  Now the government spies on her own people, and religious freedom is being threatened.  Oh well, you cannot pour new wine into old wine skins, for the old wine skins will not be able to hold the new wine--did I get that kinda right?"
   Duncan was like:  "More or less.  But still, the Old Testament has its truth, and sometimes we have to fight and revisit in humble manner, like Mr. Miyagi knowing--wax on; wax off."
   The old man laughed, and kept puffing away, blowing a super-symmetrical smoke ring, that with prophecy, danced in completion and circular structure from the den into the kitchen.  

Head over feet with lyrics by Alanis Morisette

Crystalline Cool (19)

   
   "Crystalline Cool (19)"
   
   Duncan and Aimee hopped into the El Camino, Roadkill nesting in the truck portion; next, they cruised into the bruised and beaten down town, so small but strong in spirit, housing a variety of rednecks (some nice/some not), Native Americans, and all the colors of the promising rainbow.
   Duncan pulled the Royal Road ride of his into a coffee-shop parking lot, it exuding a slow ooze of poverty yet sublimity that birthed simplicity, and after exiting the vehicle, Roadkill intrinsically knew to stay grounded and keep guard.  So, the twosome swiftly walked like weird angels into the coffee shop where Aimee ordered a cup of java, hot and black; next, Duncan ordered some white tea with a kiss of spearmint.
   They listened as the other customers talked politics, being hypnotized by their electronic devices and social media accounts, and sincerely distracted from the reality of eternal life granted by a poor Rabbi.
   The guy behind Duncan angrily yelled into his pseudo-smart phone:  "Trump is an idiot.  The Clintons are crooks.  They got no damn hookers or massage parlors in this town--I can't take my life."
   Aimee broke the silence between her and Duncan, softly saying:  "If they only knew what Mary said concerning Christ--Her saying in the Good News to do what Her Son says."
   Duncan looked confused, but wasn't, asking:  "You know Scripture?"
   Aimee was like:  "I told ya--I've turned over the entire library in this town.  And just so you know--if you don't want to engage in intercourse, that's cool with me.  But maybe we could take a gentle shower and wash each others' hair."
   Duncan thought about it.  About innocent touch.  No temptation.  Saw the honesty in Aimee's eyes; indeed, it sounded like an innocent love-make; hence, he agreed.  And they heard Roadkill howling outside, turning their attention to the ignition of acceptance. 

Crystalline Cool (18)

   
   "Crystalline Cool (18)"
   
   Duncan got aboard his oxidized El Camino, Roadkill jumping into the truck section of the counterpoised automobile, and the young man piloted his way into the pastoral valley of it all, seeking out Aimee for honest conversation.  Upon arriving at her trailer park, he put the vehicle in park, cranked her off, and Roadkill howled announcement.  Almost immediately, Aimee exited her simple trailer, adorned in jeans, tennis shoes, and a lovely sweater that complimented her cascading blonde and emerald-green eyes.  They shined upon Duncan as he opened the El Camino's door and sauntered towards her lovely direction--they embraced, and she smelled of roses and internal beauty.
   Next, he became very direct, standing back and informing her:  "Aimee, I don't know if I'm ready for a carnal relationship."
   Aimee laughed with mere mirth and no wicked enchantment, just a simple, loving laugh, letting Duncan know that she adored him; then, she blurted:  "You're so much like the character Shaggy from Scooby-Doo--you and that dog of yours with the funky name."
   Duncan, clumsy in speaking, retorted:  "But I don't have a goatee."
   Aimee said:  "You could grow one."
   Duncan back with:  "I'm half Apache.  I'm not good at growing facial hair."
   Aimee laughed, hugged him to her chest, giggling the words:  "Oh Duncan, how I love your youthful spirit.  You are such a child, and it is a wondrous thing."
   Duncan blushed, and Roadkill gave a groovy howl.