Friday, April 04, 2014

I hadn’t given much thought to the blog today, but was sitting watching FOX News carry on follow-up coverage of the recent Fort Hood shooting when it struck me that aberrant behavior isn’t the curse of an underclass. It seems to strike supposedly upper class also – Du Pont and Kennedy clans not an exception.

My vision, if memory may be called a vision, was of an airport lobby, the lobby housing all of the small non-scheduled and the one scheduled airlines for the region. There were extensive employees around and a few passengers also.

In the center of the lobby stood a rather striking woman, slightly removed from her was her sponsor/husband/paramour making clear by his posture and aspect that he, HE, was the one gifting this woman with what she was wearing.

The garment was a full length min coat with a cowl, all of mink. The coat was a priceless thing and worthy of of respect. It was beautiful, with tails of the beasts placed in various places highlighting the garment.

Truly a thing of Master Card Priceless.

My memory tells me that the gentleman was quite taken with the overcoat and took every occasion, whether random or contrived, as I’d seen the couple with identical demeanors at other functions.

I also knew the gentleman was a BLM senior educator and his particular hang-up was ecology and the belief of how hateful the killing of animals for their skins.

I also thought of the scarcity of fur bearing, in the wild, in the particular area we were in. I’ve thought, off and on, over the years that I hoped the gentleman had not purchased the matched furs from a village tannery.

They do begin to smell somewhat over time.


From the reaches,

Ten Whiskey

About tenwhiskey

User tenwhiskey is also the author of this blog. He currently lives in small town Kansas in a semi-retired condition. His kids are married and gone (thank you). An empty nester. Divorced. Very happy with life as it is. Ten Mile maintains a personal blog here, writing of events as they appear to him; commentary, and opinions abound. He deviates into fiction as the mood strikes and creates flash fiction stories and short stories. He will not warn the reader when he drifts from fact to fiction. He feels adults are, generally, smart enough to figure out which is which. He does, however, attempt to make his fiction sound as true to life as possible. You have been warned. He, as time permits, writes and occasionally sells writing. More often than not he gives it away to various non-paying publishers of Ether Magazines, forums or for entertainment on a wall for in need of a hand friends. He likes candy, pies and a certain amount of strife. In the matter of strife - in his yourth on the farm, he became embroiled in a slinging fight. The fight involved lath as a launcher, fresh cow patties as ammo and it was a six way free for all. A little mud only adds (Umm?) a certain taste to life.
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