King me

“Life is a game of 

checkers, and 

Trefologists are

the king-makers”


page two

To know life one must have lived life,

and also, not yet be dead.

Because if you’re dead,

then you are right back at the beginning,

and what the heck, anyway.


Me? I have always been

in the center of life with

a capital L, followed

by three other unknown letters.


In fact, I’d say, few people know

life as well as I do,

especially in regard to things

that are very specific to



Mr. Bones, let me tell you how I began

my search for the answers of life.


I still can recall that fateful vacation

to California.

It was Winter in Anaheim

and the city was experiencing

an unseasonably strong

ginger snap,

with temperatures dropping

into the mid A,B,C’s.


My father was in Los Angeles

looking for extra-work

in the radio dramas.


Back then, Hollywood was

an unforgiving town.

The dead littered the streets.

And so did the living.

It seems like

everyone was littering.

But it was the 1970s.

The Golden age of litter.


My father, though, was

never able to find work, and


he tried to take his own life

by drinking a whole box

of Sleepy-time tea;

but only managed to make

himself pee for 75 minutes



If only he had not done

so in his sleep.


You see, Bones, I’m fortunate.

Due to a genetic anomaly between

my parents & the labs of Monsanto,

I was gifted an eidetic memory. ¹

That is to say, I can recall every single

moment in my life

perfectly with perfect Visio-sight. ²


As an example,

on that particular day the sky

was purple. My windbreaker

was sea-purple.

Even my skin had a purple-ish


And I recall life’s corners were

bent & dog-eared and the

sun was hitting my memory

in such a way that everyone’s

face was out of focus.


I recall the word ‘Kodak’, too.

Such is my curse, I guess.


I was not a paranoid child.

Not professionally.

(Not as I am to-day)

But by mid-afternoon I could tell

something was awry.

My parents kept looking at me

in a suspicious manner.

They often did this when they

were about to attempt something


but I could tell that this day

it was going to be something more.


My fears were later confirmed

when, as we were exiting

Frontierland, my father suddenly

became agitated.


The same way he would when he

suspected we kids had been in his

office and reading his Archie



Suddenly my dad pointed toward

some shrubs & said,

“Look, son, isn’t that TV’s Johnny Whittaker?”

When I turned to look,

my parents ran off.


I was never to see them ever again.


page three


Not for for another twenty minutes,


when I saw them entering the

Adventures Thru Inner Space ride.


They had a boy with them that

looked a lot like me.

Same smile and hair.

Same pimpin’ clothes.

Same tap shoes.


I called out to them but in

the din of the crowd

they could not hear me.

Why oh why did I have to be

so close to the din?


If dear reader, you never

had the opportunity

to go on that

particular attraction,

the rider is miniaturized into

the size of an atom, and

then sent directly into the

center of a snowflake.


It was brilliant,

but tragically for my family,

not very popular and the ride

was shut down permanently

mere moments later.


My parents never had a chance

to return to their normal size, and

as far as I can figure, they are

out there to this day floating around

the ether of the shitty Star Wars ride,

that would later replace it.


And, you know what?

I never did get to see

Johnny Whittaker.


But, that my friends, is a whole other made-up story. 

page four


¹ Eidetic memory is to-day largely referred to as one who possesses a photographic memory. The earliest known example of someone displaying signs of a photographic memory was in 1840. His name was Matthew Nemerov. Matt, as they called him, knew almost nothing & was considered an idiot by many. But it was 1840 & photographic processing was still in its moronic stage.

With Trefology processing one can now reach the Eidetic-like state of TorK (Totality of regular Knowledge)

4 thoughts on “King me

  1. “My father, tho, was never able to find work in radio. He tired to take his own life by drinking a whole box of Sleepy-time tea, but only managed to make himself pee for 75 minutes straight. If only he had not done so in his sleep.” – Hahahahaha. This is on a par with Woody Allen. Great stuff in general.

    – esme falling about upon the Cloud.

    Liked by 1 person

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