Posts Tagged ‘ ESSAY ’

A LION STUDIES WILDLIFE AT STARBUCKS’ WATERING HOLE.

 

From the files of : THE HUMAN RACE by BOOTS LeBARON

 A LION STUDIES WILDLIFE AT STARBUCKS’ WATERING HOLE.  Clean shaven and reeking of Eternity, the old lion sat alone licking his chops and sipping coffee at Starbucks in the early morning.  As he scribbled thoughts on a notepad he studied a parade of creatures waiting in line for fresh-brewed concoctions.

     For weeks he had perched hungrily watching a variety of scrumptious  smorsels slurping dark liquid on the stage of life.  It was a jungle better than Broadway.  Where else can one observe and even chat with such an entertaining cast of characters — asking questions that only a scraggly old beast like me who’s focused on his prey could get away with.

     Take a look:IMG_1973

An unemployed gorilla (actor) with a debilitating hangover sipping decaf delight.

A gregarious old rooster whose wealth, despite his vanity, attracts a handful of clucking young chickies.

A beaky young vulture who’s always dressed in a blue suit and tie.  Where’s he going?  To work at the mortuary.

An award-winning body surfer who’d rather ride the waves than be the aerospace engineer that pays for his surfing expeditions.

A belligerent homeless hyena who grabs the discarded newspapers, then exits Starbucks to find his own solitude.

A soft-spoken well-groomed spotted leopard who religiously reads the sports pages, turns out to be a racist.

An antelope ex-convict who calls himself “The Poet” and survive

eight years doing hard time in three state zoos.

A powerful rhino (Los Angeles County deputy district attorney) who has successfully prosecuted and won more than 100 murderer cases, proudly sending three men to Death Row.

A striking gazelle (blonde female banker) who’s tired of being hit on.

A raccoon (physicist) who reached middle age before he told his mother, who raised him as a single parent, of his childhood crime.  He hated liver.  Whenever she served it for dinner, he’d pocket it.       An eagle (entrepreneur from Indiana) who almost 20 years ago maxed out a credit card to start a pharmaceutical head hunter business that now has offices nationwide.

An ostrich (buxom young female, bellybutton exposed), is poured into a clinging blouse, mini skirt, with shapely legs stretching into spiked shoes.    She’s looking for work.

An army officer dressed in camouflage fatigues and combat boots who has fought his share of wars in the Middle East.

A couple of friendly pandas (English-speaking Taiwanese) who came to America 30 years ago.  They diligently read the Chinese Daily News printed in their native language and discuss the editorials in their native Mandarin.

A chimpanzee (ironworker) who blows about an ongoing love affair he’s having with the woman who happens to be the mother of his children.

A porcupine (homeless young woman) sits on the bricks outside Starbucks.  Her face is dirty.  Her features are classic.

A friendly and squirrely orangutan in her mid-80s who blesses every person she comes in contact with and claims one night she actually spoke to God.

A Hollywood gorilla (stuntman) who had injured his back when the car he was driving in a film crashed.  Despite the pain, he works through it.

What a parade fascinating creatures.

What a world.

What a life.

What a collection of morsels.

Too bad I’ve already had breakfast.

Boots LeBaron

 

 

ODE TO THANKSGIVING TURKEYS: YUMMY-YUMMY!

BYE-BYE TO ONE SWEET GOBBLER

Holiday turkey,

you’re such a culinary delight.

With your meat so tender,

we shall gobble you tonight.

And when our tummies are stuffed with you,

you may wind up as a tasty stew.

If by chance you turn greenish-blue,

we’ll have to trash what’s left of you.

By

Boots LeBaron

Click the link below and get Boots’s Black Friday Holiday Deal Starting Friday !!! And the Rest of the month !! Happy Turkey Day !!

PERSONALIZED OSCARS TO BEAT PREJUDICE!?

THE WILD AND WOOLLY HUMAN RACE

 

     DIVERSITY has many faces. They come in

different colors, creeds, genders, logic, ethnicity,

religions, prejudices, levels of narcissism and

variances of naivety. As the Academy of Motion

Picture Arts and Sciences proved with its Oscar

show on Sunday, we are an unpredictable species.

Each of us, in our own inimitable way, is a little

goofy. We tote these eccentricities wherever we go:

Showbiz, Wall Street, politics, the workplace,

into personal relationships, even sports. While

watching the Oscars and listening to comic Chris

Rock’s one-liners, the thought, loony as it may

sound, occurred to me: Why not create a dozen

golden statuettes each individually honoring white,

black, Latino, Asian, Native American, gay and

lesbian artists and technicians? Sure it’s a

logistical challenge. But the film industry has

a year to cope with it. To get them started, I

did a quick sketch of what these golden statuettes

might look like. Granted, it ain’t migraine proof.

But at least it’s a thought that might save the entire

celebrity industry from going bonkers.

 

Boots LeBaron

GET A LIFE: SAY HELLO TO THOSE WHO IGNORE YOU!

THE HUMAN RACE

 

WILDEBEESTS NEED RECOGNITION, TOO!

As we trudge along the wild uncharted

trails of civilization, there’s nothing

more refreshing than recognition

from another Earthling.

You know, a little eye talk, a smile,

a nod, a wink, a pinch, a salute,

or simply a pleasant, “Hi.”

It’s invigorating to encounter a

stranger smitten with acute benevolence.

After all, our journey is quite brief.

It can end abruptly, or painfully

last far longer than expected.  

So what’s the sense of traipsing

through life as sour-faced

scaredy-cats or pompous schmucks?

The laws of civilized-jungle-survival

are obvious: Steer clear of

grizzly bears in dark alleys.

Don’t tweak a werewolf’s snout.

Even at safe havens like

the Coffee Bean or Starbucks,

never fall for a line delivered by

an amorous silverback sporting a Rolex.

That beast wants nothing more than

to drag you off into the brush.

Predatory creatures definitely exist.

But that’s no reason to curl up

like a porcupine trying to hide your

very essence from pass’ers-by’.

If you bump into a wildebeest,

try not to be intimidated

by his scraggly demeanor.

Pounding beneath that gruff exterior,

you might discover a caring heart.

As those mousy mortals with

their deadpan pusses parade by,

startle them with a harsh, “Boooo!”

While they’re scurrying away,

eyes cast downward and

tail tucked between their legs,

howl after them, “Hey!

I’m just a fellow traveler

in search of a kind word…

I don’t even bite!”

— Boots LeBaron —

LISTEN TO SUSIE! SHE’D CUTER THAN A GREYHOUND BUS!

 

THE HUMAN RACE

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MEET SUZIE, A HORNY SPINOSAURUS FROM EGYPT

My name is Suzie. I’m bigger and more voluptuous

than a Greyhound bus. Paleontologists gave

me the name Spinosaurus aegyptiacus. I prefer

Suzie. Some 90 million years ago, during

the Cretaceous period, I hung out in the

river beds of Egypt in northern Africa.

And that’s where they dug me up in 1912.

Interested in my measurements? I’m 50-feet

long. That adds up to a statuesque 6-to-7

tons of girlishness. Scientists say that

I was the largest of predatory dinosaurs and

the only one of my kind who thrived in water.

Problem with having webbed feet is I could

never wear stilettos. My favorite tidbits

were huge fish, alligators and turtles.

You might say that among dinosaurs, I was one

primeval cutie who didn’t need eyelashes to

flutter or pouting lips to entice boys.

It was my glistening seven-inch fangs and

flirtatious glances that turned them on.

My fashion plate was my six-foot sail-

like fin that sprouted from my back.

Girls envied it. Guys adored it!

Surprisingly, I don’t miss the days of my

youth when my species were struggling for

survival. It didn’t come close to what you

power-hungry, self-righteous Homo sapiens

must cope with in today’s troubled world.

Don’t take my word for it. Just read the

news or watch the talking heads on TV.

There were no mortals anywhere when this

horny Spinosaurus was on the prowl. What

does that tell you about your superiority as

Earth creatures? Evolution might be fascinating

to ponder. But it doesn’t guarantee perfection.

— Boots LeBaron —

http://www.amazon.com/The-Human-Race-Boots-LeBaron/dp/1494218526

WHO LURKS BEHIND THAT FINAL DOOR?

CONTEMPLATING MORTALITY

What’s behind that final door?

Do I have the courage to open it?

Will I find a congenial St. Peter?

Or a menacing Satan ready to cuff me

and send me to the brimstone pit

without reading me the Miranda Act?

Or will there be a sorceress

with a ravishing smile sporting

a Miss Universe type sash with

OBLIVION printed across it?

I’m really not prepared

to leave this troubled World

where I’ve battled defiantly

over the past eighty-some years.

I still have unfinished symphonies

to complete before I open that portal

 to Valhalla where Odin might honor

me with a glimmering diploma for

a lifetime of writing meaningful

prose and creating soulful art.

Narcissistic as it might sound,

as a writer and artist, I’m proud of

of my work. So I’m not ready to take

that final step. My favorite Woody

Allen quote just about sums up my

feelings: “I don’t want to achieve

mortality through my work. I want

to achieve it by not dying.”

When I’ve finished my memoir

and published my illustrated book

of essays and human interest stories

that took me a half century to create,

I’ll  give ODIN a high-five and

welcome MISS  OBLIVION  with

open arms.

— Boots LeBaron —

WILL YOU VOTE FOR SUPERMAN OR WONDER WOMAN?

The Human Race

ONLY THE SHADOW KNOWS WHO’S THE RIGHT CANDIDATE!

Who knows what skull-duggery lurks in the hearts

of politicians running for this year’s

presidential election? Not even The Shadow

knows. Some of you might remember the

spooky crime fighter who petrified radio

audiences before the advent of television.

He had the ability to “cloud men’s minds.”

Thanks to politics, it’s not a lost art.

Today on TV, politicians and other talking

heads constantly cloud voter’s minds.

For proof, tune in to the New Hampshire

primary and listen to mudslingers doing

the hootchy-kootchy as they compete for the

the world’s most influential position: The

U.S. presidency. The current political

extravaganza is not only a sad act to

witness, but at times highly entertaining.

How do we separate the incomprehensible

gobble-dy-gookers from trustworthy

political warriors? Who will be the most

prolific fighting for our individual rights?

         It ain’t funny. The challenge for voters is monumental.

Many these well-financed combatants are

brilliant debaters. Don’t tell me a scant number

of these political saints aren’t dancing the

waltz to garner votes. They focus on whatever

issue their target audience needs to hear:

Immigration, energy, the economy, gay rights,

taxation, separation of church and State.

a woman’s right to choose, stem-cell research,

gun control… You name it. We

fall for brilliantly conceived lines delivered

by TV’s talking heads, radio babblers and scores

of Internet twiddlers voicing their slanted

messages into the ozone. Who should we trust?

Remember, Superman and Wonder Woman are

are comic book characters. Yet U.S. citizens hunger

for the kind of conscientious integrity in humans

that such superheroes are identified with.  

Who should voters with such diversified demands

know which political barrister in the race

for commander and chief is the most righteous?

How do we convince voters to first do their

home work and then turn out to vote en masse

relying on keen instincts governed by

hearsay evidence?”

Got me!

                      

           — Boots LeBaron —

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