Kevin Earl Dayhoff Art One-half Banana Stems

Kevin Earl Dayhoff Art One-half Banana Stems - www.kevindayhoff.com Runner, writer, artist, fire and police chaplain Mindless ramblings of a runner, journalist & artist: Travel, art, artists, authors, books, newspapers, media, writers and writing, journalists and journalism, reporters and reporting, technology, music, culture, opera... National and International politics www.kevindayhoff.net For community see www.kevindayhoff.org For art, technology, writing, and travel see www.kevindayhoff.com

Wednesday, April 01, 2015

"An empty jar of grape jelly" by Uncle Kevin

An empty jar of grape jelly

April 1, 2015

Yet another in a series of fractured self-help anecdotes of the absurd by Uncle Kevin.

This my friends, is a picture of a Babylon-Dayhoff household emergency – an empty jar of Smucker’s Grape Jelly. 

This is not funny. 

This is worse than a French Toast Emergency – when everyone runs to the grocery store to stock-up on bread, milk, and eggs after the weather forecast predicts snow…

Breathe – Breathe… Count to ten. I’m going to be Okay. Repeat. I am going to okay. This too shall pass.

Buckle up for the most absurd fractured obsessive "narrative therapy" you've ever read

"Vices are ingredients of virtues just as poisons are ingredients of remedies.  Prudence mixes and tempers them and uses them effectively against life's ill."  La Rochefoucauld - Maxims (1665)

Come closer. I mean, can we talk? For you see, I strongly believe that grape jelly is the very thread which holds together the uneasy seams of modern society. Yes, my brethren – grape jelly. Can I get an Amen? Lift your hands into the air brothers and sisters. I’m talking to you here…

It seems only appropriate that we take this time to pay some sort of homage to this humble jar of jelly as it lies vanquished on the kitchen stove.

This must be a teaching moment. I am going to concentrate on the image of the empty jar of grape jelly and realize that this is all my fault.

This all leads me to dig deep inner my inner mind, what’s left of it, and ponder, am I addicted to grape jelly? Is there such a thing as an addiction to grape jelly? I cannot bear to spend a day without a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

I am desperately in search of a support group. Perhaps I have achieved a protected class – I can now join the balance of 65 per cent of Americans who are classified as a protected class. Does my employer have to make special accommodations for my addiction?

I guess I must accept the sad facts, I am addicted to grape jelly.

So, now I'm running.  Running as fast as I can. 

I was in the back yard when I first saw it.  Out by the giant lava lamp…

It looks like it's a.... It’s a..... A giant jar of grape jelly hovering over the house.  It is so large that it casts a shadow over all of the house, and beyond. 

It drew even nearer.  I'm running.  Was it going to attack me?  I tripped and fell.  The giant jar of grape jelly drew nearer.  My life flashed before me..... Running away as a child on my tricycle with my teddy bear.  Helping Pop-Pop and my uncles build a barn.  My mother making me draw a pirate over and over and over again for a drawing contest.  Helping Tass Samios at the grocery store.  Helping Dad build a glider swing set.  Building things in my sandbox.  Coach Head congratulating me for recovering a fumble.  Mr. Eaton calling on me in class.  The Marines. Civil rights marches…. Water cannons and police dogs. Seeing Elvis on the farm.  Timmy helping me with the farm house.  Mark, Zachary, Fred…

The giant jar of grape jelly hovered just feet over my head.  It was so close to the ground that it was damaging the roof of the house.  I thought of my home owner's insurance. It protects me from volcanoes - but, but does it cover damage from a giant jar of jelly?  Does it?  Tell me.  Does it?

Ooze resembling jelly started flowing over the edge as it tilted to the left.  The jelly started covering me.  My God, I'm going to die.  Is this a diabolical plot caused by political opponents?  No, that would be a huge pile of manure.  Who caused this?  Why me?  The jelly is covering me.  I'm dying.  I'm dying.  What a way to go!  Why couldn't it be a big bowl of ice cream instead?  I'm dying.... I'm dying..... I'm dying…

I wake up in a cold sweat. Run to the sink and splash some cold water on my face and steel myself for another day without grape jelly. Is there no hope?

Another nightmare about grape jelly!

Didn't Homer say in "The Iliad," that the greatest hoax in life is the hope for safety?

Can we talk?  I need your help!  You see, I'm a victim.  I've finally joined the rest of contemporary American culture and have now become a victim. 


I will repeat this chant over and over:  "Excuses are for losers.  What's the mission?  It's performance that counts.  I am the only one who is ultimately responsible for my life.  Get over it.  Move on.  Say yes to responsibility.


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Kevin Earl Dayhoff Art www.kevindayhoff.com: Travel, art, artists, authors, books, newspapers, media, writers and writing, journalists and journalism, reporters and reporting, music, culture, opera... Ad maiorem Dei gloriam inque hominum salutem. “Deadline U.S.A.” 1952. Ed Hutcheson: “That's the press, baby. The press! And there's nothing you can do about it. Nothing!” - See more at: http://kevindayhoffart.blogspot.com/#sthash.4HNLwtfd.dpuf

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