A Little History

by Jeffrey Zable (May 2025)

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A Little History
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I just happened to be at my front window when Paul rushed by
yelling at the top of his lungs, “The British are Coming! The British
are coming!”
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Upon hearing this, I immediately ran into the bedroom and got out
several of my old Beatles records and spread them on the floor.
I figured that this would save me from being taken away—
and, in the end, maybe save my life
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I also went into the kitchen and took out the basket of British chips
that I had left over from the day before and put it on my night table.
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When the two soldiers entered and wanted to know which side
I was on, I told them to please follow me. And upon seeing the records,
the older of the two asked me to put “Rubber Soul” on the turntable,
and play, “Run For Your Life.”
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Upon hearing the song, he responded, “Man, you’ve made my day!
Haven’t heard that song in ages. It’s my favorite of theirs!”
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With that, I picked up the basket of chips, and asked if they wanted some—
to which they both smiled and nodded their heads.
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After sharing a little chit chat, the younger one said, “It was a pleasure
meeting you, but we must now be on our way. Hopefully, we’ll all meet again!”
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I then walked them to the door and they headed out, muskets in hand…
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Clum Z
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Yes, I knew Clum Z a bit before he became a famous rapper.
We worked together in a restaurant downtown washing dishes,
and it was amazing how many of them he broke before he was
finally fired. I remember him telling me that he’d already had
8 or 9 dish washing jobs that year and we were only half-way
into the month of May.
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Anyway, a couple of years later I was flipping the channels
and came upon one of those music video programs, and on it
was a video in which some guy was hip-hop dancing and rapping
like crazy. Looking more closely I realized that it was Clum,
and behind him were some beautiful young babes, scantily clad,
doing their thing to his rapping.
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I’m not a fan of rap music, but I was happy for Clum ‘cause I knew
he wasn’t ever going to make it as a dish washer.
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To the best of my recollection the rap lyrics that I got from his
performance went as follows:
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They call me Clum Z,
and you know I’m free
to be who I want to be,
and that’s a fact,
it ain’t no act
cause I made a pact with a Z…
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I have no doubt that Clum will continue to make it as a rapper
so long as he can keep coming up with new material…
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What I Don’t Like
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The truth is that I don’t like it when others show signs of happiness,
when I’m not feeling happy at all. In fact, when I’m not feeling
happy and I witness someone smiling or laughing, I often feel
like slapping their face. I really have to control myself not to do so.
I don’t mind a quick grin if someone is seemingly being polite
in response to what another person is saying to them, but, as I already
expressed, I don’t like to see a smile or hear someone laugh when
I’m not feeling happy at all.
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Now, you could be asking yourself how often— in terms of minutes—
do I feel happy during an average week? And the answer would be
as follows: No week is exactly the same but if I were to venture
an average, it would probably be around 3 or 4 minutes per week—
give or take a few seconds–that I actually feel happy and show it
with a bit of a sparkle in my eyes accompanied by a smile here
and there, and maybe a chuckle, depending.
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And there’s nothing specific that makes me feel happy. It could be
that I was flipping the stations and came across an old episode
of the Three Stooges—of course, with Curly in it— The Beverly
Hillbillies, or maybe a certain I love Lucy episode. I also sometimes
feel a bit happy watching young children in grocery stores picking
at items on the shelves and dropping them on the floor. This can
make me smile for up to 30 seconds sometimes. Dogs can also
make me feel happy if they look me in the eyes, and wag their tails
when passing me by. Really, there is no predicting when a feeling
of happiness is going to come over me.
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In conclusion, I will say that I’d feel more tolerant of a person
showing happiness if they’re at a wedding and are the ones to be
married, and I don’t mind if occasionally I witness someone
at a sporting event who’s smiling because their team is winning
the game. Other than that, I don’t like it when people are looking
as if they’re enthralled with being alive when I’m standing there
feeling forlorn and wishing I were home under the covers…
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The Search
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Proud of the fact that some of my poems had just been published
in a top-notch literary journal, I decided to call around and see
if anyone besides the editor/publisher had read any of them.
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Turned out that on the 10,462,758th call I reached someone
who said they not only read my poems but that one in particular
had changed their life.
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And so, of course, I excitedly asked which one it was,
but when he presented the title and began to recite the poem
I knew immediately that it was no poem of mine.
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Felling dejected, I nonetheless waited until he finished,
thanked him, and without telling him that he’d made a mistake,
I gently hung up the phone.
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Then, out of curiosity I did a little research with regard to that poem
and discovered that it was written by the late Rod McKuen
a well-known poet in his time, and someone who I believe made
a very good living from his published poetry books.
Personally, I was not a fan of his poetry, and really couldn’t
understand his popularity, as most his work that I read
seemed trite and overly sentimental.
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Continuing to be feel forlorn with regard to reaching an audience
for my work, I finally decided to stop writing poetry altogether
and take up sculpting with clay as I thought I’d have a better chance
of getting some real recognition.
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And truth be told, so far I’ve gotten a lot of positive feedback
from the instructor and several students in my class…
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The Best-Looking People
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I’ve always thought that the best-looking people are not only
the most popular, but also the happiest. It may not be true
in every instance, but I think it’s mostly true.
In my neighborhood I see a lot of the best-looking people
walking around, and most of them have confident expressions
on their faces and most of them are smiling in comparison
to just average, or below average looking people.
A little while ago as I was riding a stationary bike at my gym,
and looking through the huge glass window, I noticed that the
best-looking people walking by seemed to have a certain aura
about them. They not only looked happy and contented, but seemed
to exude a feeling of having found the true meaning of life.
These best-looking people didn’t seem fearful of getting old
or dying because they know they have many years left to enjoy
being the best-looking people.
They also seemed very aware of their superiority over the rest of us,
barely glancing at anyone who didn’t look like themselves.
That old saying, “Blonds have more fun” should be changed to
“The best-looking people have more fun,” because I don’t think
I’ve ever seen a best-looking person with less than a grin on their face…
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An Old Story
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When the clock struck midnight and I turned into a beautiful princess
I decided to go to the prince’s ball that I’d heard about.
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When I got there, it was obvious that the prince was not only drunk,
but horny as well.
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He kept asking me to dance, and even tried to put his hands on
inappropriate places on my body.
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Not being that kind of guy, I fended him off each time by giving him looks
that let him know I meant business.
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Otherwise, I ate as much of the sumptuous food as I was able, knowing
that a poor schmuck like me may never get another opportunity like that.
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Arriving home, I felt happy for the first time in longer than I could remember…
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Watching For The Signs
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Yes, I am friends with Mo Skito who recently bit me
out of the blue.
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And when I asked why he did so, he just responded
that he didn’t know what came over him.
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It was then I realized that he had a dark side,
and that if we were to continue our relationship
I’d have to be careful to watch for the signs…
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