PATRICK MCVAY

WRITER

My Musings

This text is currently hidden by a css change. Alow's me to go directly to the category description because it is editable in the front end,
Font size: +

The Zincman Cometh

Is this the year when I break out of my landlocked state and start boating seriously? It could be. I look like a boater, when I’m at the helm with a big grin on my face and zinc oxide on my nose, like it’s 1969 and I’m a lifeguard at Green Lakes State Park.

Maybe it was more like ’72, but it sounds better to say ‘69, which was a year of upheaval during which humans set foot on the moon and half of the world’s musicians died of drug overdoses. I was 5 in 1969; it seems reasonable to assume that I probably visited the beach at Green Lakes State Park, where I first saw the white, zinc-slathered noses of yesteryear.

Meanwhile, people in other states weren’t bothering with zinc oxide. “Zinc Oxide is for Pussies,” was their slogan. They would gather together without masks or a pocketful of zinc and give the finger to the sun. They believed the sun was full of shit, the jerky central orb of our solar system, around which everything circles. A pitiful and angry little glowing ball of burning gases, ticked off because it is relatively insignificant in our universe.  

Most of those maskless and zinc oxide-less folks are now dead from getting cancer of the nose, and their ashes are scattered all over creation. The rest of us are still alive, enjoying the pandemic.

Maybe we should have skipped the zinc oxide.

Mr. Wrinkly
Way Back
 

Comments

No comments made yet. Be the first to submit a comment
Already Registered? Login Here
Guest
Wednesday, 22 May 2024

 

 

Daily Haiku

 

Cats oft’ void their guts.

They cough out fur balls. They puke.  

We tread carefully.  

 

College Tuition

We dig ourselves a deep hole

Need a second job.

 

Now that I’m sixty

People think I’m a wise man

Probably, I’m not

 

I’m in my Fifties

But tomorrow I’m Sixty

Will need a sports car

 

My PCP Says

“Keep doin’ what yer doin’”

Prob’ly I should not

 

It’s St. Patrick’s Day

We eat beef that has been corned

Whatever that means

 

Robots and A.I.

I will make use of these soon

To do my taxes

 

Strange Oscar night end

Pacino failed to mention

Best pic nominees

 

Who’s this Katie Britt?

Scary. Wierd. We could have used

A Trigger Warning

 

Subscribe To The Blog

Produce This Audio Play!

Ever wanted to produce a radio play?  Think you have the mettle?  Read on!

Tag Cloud

First World Problems Brewing Rabbit Hole plan mid-winter vacations Brain Surgery Cats Bob Dylan College Earth Wind tambourrine Spice Girls China Syracuse baseball Soviet Union When I die Me Biden Bill Monroe Mustard Sugarbush Chowder Vaughn Bunker Emergencies Belgian Ales Eating and Drinking Halloween town square soapbox rantings Cornhole star the sea My sisters The Old Days vacation BB King Smoke Meat Bands I've Seen Plastic Zoom Good Reads Golf War and Peace Peacekeeping Mike Doughty Hawaii NFL Roommates I've Had Putin Guns and Ammo Grass Skiing Canadiana Liz Phair Ice Dancing Existential Crisis Mass General Hospital Teeth Fiction Dad advice Hand Planes Rock Bands Knots Big Shoes Europe Godfather Reveillon Motorists technology Car Dealerships New England US Senate Drumming Yeast Ukraine seasons Bands I haven't seen My Parents Soccer Allergies weather Art Texting Bicycles Skating Head injuries Joan Jett Politics As Usual The future Candy Royal Stuff Soup Climate Change Things I've done Butterfingers Bodysurfing Marketing Gimmicks Vaccines The Past Ticketmaster Elvis Presley midwinter vacations Reese's Peanut Butter Cups punk music Diseases afterlife COVID Red Sox The Future nukes Folk Music winter Hot Air Balloon Them Kids Accounting Stories I should write Masks Theater Advertising Cars cornhole Music Barber Shops curling shoes Food gathering throngs Eclipse high winds Imaginings Scotch and Sirloin Email Bands I've seen Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde Pats Beer Work Religion Football Hurricanes TV 1980s Sports acerbic high school principal Boston Hache Verde My grandparents Stairs COVID-19 Martinis Weather Bikes Radiohead Tom Waits Canada People I know Quebect Christmas Spoon the band Audubon Bar NPR Ketchup Soul Coughing coronavirus Coyotes Audio Skiing Communication Channels My Estate Mom and Dad Real Estate Trump Snow Guns Short Fiction Higher Education the future