Friday, May 29, 2015

Ernie’s Swing

One day he just stopped coming to that swing along the lake.  He was
an older gentleman in a worn cardigan sweater, and a soft button
down cap.  Ernest was his name.  “But please call me Ernie”, he would say,
in a warm baritone voice.  “My momma, bless her soul, was the only one
who called me Ernest”.   Gray dress pants, dress shirt, and black highly polished
shoes, rounded out his usual attire. 

Ernie’s face was brown from the sun and dotted with age spots, as is common for
someone his age.  The backs of his hands were also brown, but withered and bruised
from the thinning of his skin.   His hair was gray and receding, but always nicely
trimmed, and he was always clean shaven and smelled of “Old Spice.” 

I would see Ernie there on that swing every morning on my walks along the lake.
He never missed a day, and was always glad to let me share his swing for a spell.  
He spoke lovingly of his now departed “Lorraine”, his wife of 40-some years, his children,
 spread out all over the country, his eight grandchildren, and new great grandchild,
whose names he would often forget.

Ernie would marvel at my cell phone and recall making phone calls through the operator
in his little home town in Minnesota.  He would tell stories of growing up in the depression
and getting ice from the ice truck for their “new” Frigidaire, or listening to a baseball game
with his dad on the radio.   He told me of the war and friends he had lost.  He never spoke
of his time in the war, other than the grand victory celebration in Paris.  “Lorraine didn’t know
the half of that party”, he would whisper shyly. 

I don’t stop at that swing by the lake anymore.  It’s not the same without him.  I don’t know
how he got there or even where he lived.  He never told me he was sick or ever had a complaint.  
I wish I could have told him how much I appreciated him and enjoyed our time together. 
Good bye Ernie and thanks.  

Ken Ferguson
The good ol' days at San Onofre State Beach

Happy Birthday wishes go out to former Los Angeles Dodger Kirk Gibson who turned 58 yesterday.

Kirk has been married to his wife Cam for 30 years and have four children.

Kirk was an All-American wide receiver for Michigan State University.

Kirk started his baseball career with the Detroit Tigers.

Kirk came to the Dodgers in 1988 and hit a home run in his only plate appearance in the World Series.

Scott's daughter, Rebecca, graduated from Columbia University last week. Awesome!!

Scott, Rebecca, & Bruce

Bruce, Melissa, Rebecca, and Scott

New family pics from Huntsville 

Thanks Brian

I was finally offered a job with West Covina and I start on Monday.  I will work two days and then go on vacation for a week.  LOL  Such is the life of one who is semi-retired. 

My lap top computer came to a grinding halt earlier this week, so I had to have Corey reset it back to the factory specs.  It runs a lot better now, but I lost a few things.  Oh well. 

Happy Birthday to one of my favorite actresses, Annette Benning, who turns 57 years young today.

Annette is married to actor Warren Beatty and they have four children.

Annette is a graduate of San Francisco State University with a degree in theater arts. 

I liked Annette in the movie "Open Range" with Kevin Costner, and in the movie "The American President" with Michael Douglas.

"Open Range"

Thursday, May 21, 2015

Karen and I are going to a hockey game tonight!!  The Ontario Reign are battling the Allen (Texas) Americans for the Western Conference Championship tonight.  Of course that means hot dogs and nachos for dinner!!  Yeah!!

Happy Birthday wishes go out to singer, songwriter, actress, model, fashion designer author and comedian, Cher, born Cherilyn Sarkisian, who turned 69 years young yesterday May 20th. Cher was born in El Centro, California. Cher has been married twice and has three sons.


Cher is probably best known for her marriage and music with Sonny Bono. (Deceased) They started a fashion trend with the fur vests and wild bell bottom pants you see below.  Cher actually started out as Sonny's house keeper. Their first big hit was "I Got You Babe."

This is an arch pattern fingerprint.  It could be my right index fingerprint.  Arch pattern fingerprints are the most rare pattern, found in only about 5% of fingerprints.  I read that arch patterns may correlate with mothers who smoked or babies who had health problems while in the womb.  My mom was a heavy smoker and I was born 6 weeks early and spent some time in an incubator before going home.


Wednesday, May 20, 2015

The Traveling Minstrel

I am a traveling minstrel, a purveyor of word and song,
I spin a tale, and strum a tune, and then I move along.
I hope to make you dance and sing, and clap to beat the band,
And put a smile upon your face, and leave you feeling grand.

The fantasies I weave for you, are made to entertain,
So stop awhile, enjoy the show, and join in the refrain.
I dabble in a grain of truth, the rest imagination,
And if I hit too close to home, please spare your condemnation.

The ladies find me charming, a chap with quite a flare,
They smile and nod, and bat their eyes, it seems without a care.
I’ll croon a tune, and make them swoon, and promise my devotion,
But come the dawn, they’ll find me gone, without a big commotion. 
I am a traveling minstrel, a poet of some renown,
I live to entertain you, while moving from town to town.
If you’ve found some revelry in what you’ve seen today,
Please drop a penny in my cup, before you walk away. 
Ken Ferguson

Saturday, May 16, 2015

I posted this photo a couple of weeks ago thinking there was a poem there somewhere.Well there was, but beware, it has some adult themes and could cause one to become embarrassed for, or even ashamed of, the writer of said poem.  This is an example of a "free flowing" form of poetry that doesn't require words to rhyme.  Enjoy.

Skinny Dippin’

We sauntered arm- in- arm along a warm sandy beach,
third day of our romantic island getaway.  Warm ocean breezes enveloped us
as we were blanketed in the silvery beams of a glorious full moon,
that seemed to rise up from the ocean in the distance like a burning phoenix.

We stopped along a deserted section of beach and shared an embrace,
exchanging salty kisses and whispering of our never ending love for one another.
I ran my fingers through her silky hair, softly turning her head to one side,
nibbling and kissing her ear.  Soft groans emitted from her throat as she melted
deeper into my embrace.

I stepped back, peered into her sparkling eyes, and gave her a devilish look.
I dropped my swim suit to the sand, turned, and waded waist deep into the warm Caribbean waters.
She stood there, frozen, fighting an inner battle between her fears of being caught naked in a public
place, and her eagerness to share my embrace in the warm ocean before her.  The warm glow building
inside her lent the final straw to her decision to throw caution to the wind and join me.

I turned to watch her as she pulled her flowered sun dress over her head, exposing her firm supple
breasts and taunt stomach to the gaze of the full moon.  Quickly dropping her skimpy bikini bottom in
our pile of clothing, she wadded towards me, moon light reflecting from her bronzed body.  The huge
smile on her face assured me that she was lost in a life changing experience we would remember for
years to come.

I took her in my arms and held her tightly, as the warm ocean waves lapped against our hips and groins.
She wrapped her arms around my neck and hoisted herself up against my body, encircling my hips with
her shapely legs.  Her swollen breasts pressed against my chest, as I moved slowly too enter her lush
garden.  I was lost in a perfect storm of passion, as we slowly rocked against one another.   Our hunger
engulfed us as our pace quickened.  Waves of pleasure crashed over us as we found our synchronized
release and shuddered in a thundering conclusion.

“I love you” we whispered to one another, as we dared not release from each others arms, the warm
ocean waters caressing our sated bodies, moon beams reflecting off of the waves.   “I love you.”

Ken Ferguson