Two Short Pieces by Ron Smith

Viewpoint

Announcer on radio: It’s 10:06 a.m. on a Tuesday. Welcome to NPR. I’m Cody Blanchard. It’s time for Viewpoint! Today we’re fortunate to have with us a pioneer in computer-dating technology, founder and CEO of oneandonly.com, Wes Bacham. Good morning, Wes. How are you?

WB – Not so good Cody, not so good.

CB – Really? What’s the matter?

WB – My wife made a frightful row at breakfast. I was supposed to pay the last water bill and forgot. The city sent a terse note threatening to shut us off.

CB – I hear you’re a very busy man. Surely an oversight like that is excusable.

WB – You’d think so. She says it’s become a “pattern of behavior” with me. She called me “disoriented.”

CB – That’s too bad, Wes. But I had hoped you could tell us about the valuable service you are providing for singles who are sure they’re “ready” but haven’t found the right…

WB – Victim?

CB  - Victi, ha ha, victim, that’s funny. Seriously, what advancements have been made in the field of computer-dating?

WB – Okay, forget – all – you – thought – you – knew – about… (At this time Cody’s guest, Wes, answers his ringing cell phone. Worry spreading over his features, he says little; only occasional grunts and nods of understanding. He hangs up.)

WB – That was the nurse at my daughter Mary’s middle school. She has a toothache and can’t remain there. Sorry to blow the interview. I gotta run. Rain check?

CB – Of course. Go then. I hope it’s nothing serious. Thankfully, “Lasso Louis” is here, waiting in the green room. He’s going to tell us how he steered his drive-in restaurant at 8200 Slausen Boulevard from bacon burgers to veggie burgers, from onion rings to zucchini bread. He’d do some rope tricks but this is radio. But first a word from Jenkins LLC, manufacturers of sustainable gas grills, compost bins and kid and pet-friendly lawn care products.

--Ron Smith

 

Coincidence

Recently while waiting for a bus, I spied a withered news dealer with no customers killing time behind his counter, reading a Field and Stream magazine. Although employed distributing print, his reading skills were marginal. He poured long over each page and was moving his lips. I’m no “pro” but if someone is moving their lips slowly, I can make out what they are reading.

“Nell – had – loaded – the – station – wagon – but – forgot – to pack – the – Gor-Tex – lined – all – weather – boots – I – had – bought – for – her. I – had – made – a – special – trip – to – the – Outdoor – Store…” the man struggled to read, finally turning a page. My jaw dropped open. He was reading a story I had written, titled “Journey to Lonerock”; a personal memoir of a trip my late wife, Nell, and I had made to eastern Oregon The royalty had been such a pittance, I had forgotten the tale. Sometimes Field and Stream doesn’t have enough stories about hunting and fishing so they flesh the magazine out with “hack” fiction.

As he became aware I was watching him closely, I gasped audibly and sneezed. “God bless you,” the dealer said, looking up for the first time.

“Thank you,” I replied sincerely.

--Ron Smith