Archy and Mehitabel by Barbara Ardinger

Archy the Cockroach and Mehitabel the Cat were introduced to the world in 1916 by Don Marquis, a columnist for the New York Evening Sun. Marquis was more than a mere columnist; he was a social commentator and satirist admired by nearly every famous writer of the first quarter of the 20th century. Franklin P. Adams, for example, said Marquis was “far closer to Mark Twain than anybody I know” (see note).

As the story goes, Marquis said he came into his office one morning to find a big cockroach jumping about on his typewriter keys. The cockroach kept climbing up the metal frame and hurling itself headfirst onto a key, one slow letter after another. He couldn’t use the shift lock (except one time when he hit it accidentally and produced an entire uppercase column), so his writing is lowercase. After about an hour, Marquis reported, the cockroach fell to the floor, exhausted after typing just one page. He never could manage punctuation, and he also had trouble with the carriage return—how many of us remember how those old typewriters worked?—but he somehow hit it every time. (My grandfather had an old typewriter like this. The keys were very stiff. I felt like my little fingers were gonna break when I tried to type.)

 

 

In his previous life, Archy was a free verse poet. As he explains to Marquis,

expression is the need of my soul

i was once a vers libre bard

but i died and my soul went into the body of a cockroach

it has given me a new outlook upon life

i see things from the under side now

Continue reading “Archy and Mehitabel by Barbara Ardinger”

Metamorphosis and a Press Conference: A Kafkaesque and Shakespearean Fantasy about an Unreal Individual by Barbara Ardinger

Donald wakes up too early. Feeling confused and disoriented, he looks around the room. His bed has disappeared! He seems to be lying on the floor. Why? he asks himself, how’d I fall off my king-size bed? The floor (uncarpeted??) seems to go on around him forever, sans furniture, sans TVs, sans his solid gold toilet, sans even the doors and windows. It’s all a great big blank. All around him. Where am I? he asks himself.

He had disturbing dreams all night, and not just last night, but for…well, awhile. Since the subpoenas. He keeps seeing big, strong, silent men wearing jackets with initials on the back carrying big boxes out of his various offices. All of them. All over the world. In one repeating dream, a man dropped a box. It fell open, scattering papers filled with names and numbers. The men picked everything up, put the papers back in chronological order, and resealed the box. They kept carrying the boxes out to black vans that didn’t have names painted on them.

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Insect Conversations by Barbara Ardinger

“She’s doing it again,” Mrs. Cockroach is saying to her friend Old Mrs. Spider. “You know? The giant? She’s been blowing on me and telling me to live somewhere else. Like, I’d leave a good home?”

 

                         

 

Old Mrs. Spider looks up from her weaving. “Yes,” she says in a weary voice. “But you know she’s not a giant. She’s just a normal human being, well, overweight, as I understand humans measure their bodies. And if she’s going to blow on us and ask us to live somewhere else, well…..I think she needs to brush her teeth.”

Mrs. Cockroach chuckles. “Indeed. We insects, maybe with the exceptions of fleas and termites, we don’t have bad breath. Blood-breath and wood-breath are sour! I was sitting on the wall in her bathroom, keeping an eye on things and telling the termites to get away from the window, and she just walks up. Doesn’t she know we insects and arachnids are protecting her house?”

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Eye of Newt, a Binding Spell by Barbara Ardinger

I first wrote this spell in 1994 when a certain Member of Congress from Marietta, Georgia, took out his Contract On America. I sent the spell out on the internet and know that it was used. I rewrote it to put in my book, Finding New Goddesses, but decided that it’s much too serious a spell to put in a book of humor, so the spell stands alone again. I have used it successfully, though carefully, on several occasions, and so have other people. The purpose of this spell is to bind, not to do harm. It’s neither “black magic” nor “white magic,” but simply useful magic.

Now, in mid-2019, I’m giving serious consideration to renaming the spell: Eye of Donald. But no—if I did that, we’d lose the reference to Macbeth, Act IV, scene 1. If you’ve read or seen “The Scottish Play,” you know that Macbeth is, among other things, filled with hubris. So was the fellow from Georgia, and he’s since fallen on the sword of his hubris. The current occupant of the White House? I think he’s hubris personified. So we need the reference to Macbeth. Continue reading “Eye of Newt, a Binding Spell by Barbara Ardinger”

My Near-Death Experience, Or How I Met the Goddess Face to Face By Barbara Ardinger

Oh boy oh boy oh boy—another June 17 has passed (I’m writing this on June 18) and I’m still here. Every year, this is my day to be careful. And to keep breathing. I have two specific associations with June 17. The first, and lesser, is that it is (or was) the birthday of my last serious boyfriend. I really thought we were going to get married. That didn’t happen, and as we were breaking up, he gave me a (probably expensive) bottle of My Sin perfume. I hurled it against the wall behind the dumpster. So much for that. And him.

The real story: I began having asthma attacks in the late 80s. Nearly every night. A friend took me to every doctor we could think of, but none of them helped me. (At the time, my asthma was acute; now it’s merely chronic and under control.) In June 1992, I was very busy doing freelance writing when I could find an assignment, looking for a real job, serving as vice president of the Orange County chapter of Women In Management (which meant I booked the speaker every month)…and breathing. My second book, A Woman’s Book of Rituals and Celebrations, was being published, and I was teaching a weekly class called Practicing the Presence of the Goddess in my living room. Continue reading “My Near-Death Experience, Or How I Met the Goddess Face to Face By Barbara Ardinger”

Outtadeway-O: A Found Goddess of Public Transportation (well, you asked for Her last month) by Barbara Ardinger

Tall, hearty. sometimes pushy, and usually very loud, Outtadeway-O is easily able to propagate and multiply Herself so that we can find Her in crowded airport terminals, at bus and subway stops, and just about anywhere people are traveling from or to. She’s in charge of trains, planes, and taxi-cabs. She’s the One who, when we’re in a hurry to get somewhere on time, shouts, “Please, oh, please get out of the way!” Pilots, engineers, station masters, ticket agents, and ÜberAlles drivers all hear Her. You better bet they get out of Her way.

Although there are apocryphal reports that Outtadeway-O was present when Hannibal crossed the Alps (who do you think was in charge of those elephants?) and in the Roman Colosseum (She supercharged some of the chariots, horses, too), She’s most familiar as the gal in the New York subway system who kindly tells you which side of the tracks to stand on so you get on the train going in the right direction. Whether you’re lost in La Guardia, O’Hare, Hartsfield, or LAX (and in the smaller airports, too), She’s the gal in the uniform who explains how to use those dratted ticket machines on the curb and gives you a tidy map that shows where the gates are and how to find them without tripping over the people sleeping on the floor because their flights were delayed or canceled. She’s also the helpful agent who finds food for those people when they wake up and points them toward the bathrooms. Continue reading “Outtadeway-O: A Found Goddess of Public Transportation (well, you asked for Her last month) by Barbara Ardinger”

The Highly-Effective, Never-Fail, Magical Parking Space Word by Barbara Ardinger

“In the beginning was the Word.” Yes, we’ve all read that. Although I’m not sure precisely what that Word was—does anybody know?—I’m pretty sure that Word started the process of creation. It was an active Word. A powerful Word. A Word that got things done.

I modestly propose another creative, active, powerful Word. ZZZAAAZZZ. It actively and powerfully creates parking spaces for us. Although I have always believed this Word just somehow came to me, my son has recently said that he once heard it from one of his high school buddies. I dunno. I’ve been using the Magical Parking Space Word for maybe thirty years. I’ve been writing for the Llewellyn Publications annuals since about 2004 and have put the Magical Parking Space Word (with its own spell) in the last three Llewellyn Spell-a-Day Almanacs. I get positive responses from readers all over the U.S. The Word is spreading. Continue reading “The Highly-Effective, Never-Fail, Magical Parking Space Word by Barbara Ardinger”

Happy Birthday, Dear Brother by Barbara Ardinger

Today would be my brother Dale’s 75th birthday. To honor him, I’m rewriting an article I wrote for a business magazine in Orange Co., CA, in 1992. Although I was a regular columnist for that business magazine, I seldom wrote about business. I guess I was their comic relief. I wrote this piece during the 1992 presidential election campaign (Clinton, Bush, Perot) when the Republicans were going on and on and on about “family values.” I chose to write about Real Family Values.

In the late ’60s, Dale dropped out of his senior year at the University of Missouri, where he was majoring in art and earning A’s. He went home to Ferguson and came out of the closet. It freaked our family, big-time. First, they blamed it on our mother, who had died in 1965. Then they blamed it on higher education. Then they blamed the Sixties. Then it was the fault of Art “because everybody knows all artists were degenerates.” Continue reading “Happy Birthday, Dear Brother by Barbara Ardinger”

Practical Lessons in Kindness from the Grasshopper and the Ant (With apologies to Jean de La Fontaine for significant changes to his fable) by Barbara Ardinger

Note: This story was originally posted early in 2016. I’m posting it again because, thanks to the state of UNkindness the Abuser-in-chief has pasted all over the semi-civilized Semi-United States, we need lessons in kindness more than ever before. I bet you agree with me!

“Curses on that grasshopper!” exclaimed the ever-busy Madame Fourmi. “All he ever does is play. He’ll be sorry when winter comes.”

And so it went. Every day, Mme. Fourmi spent the morning scrubbing her front steps. And Monsieur Cigale?

“Partaaaaayyyyy!” Every day, he sped by on his skateboard. “Hey, Auntie Ant, stop cleaning the concrete and come and play with us. We’re gonna start a band!”

“Not on your life,” muttered this grandmother, most of whose conversations with her many daughters and granddaughters consisted of instructions on how to properly clean their homes and hills and how to prepare and store food for the winter. “Life is serious business, it is, it is. We need to plan ahead.”

Continue reading “Practical Lessons in Kindness from the Grasshopper and the Ant (With apologies to Jean de La Fontaine for significant changes to his fable) by Barbara Ardinger”

Seeking Enlightenment? Let’s Try Endarkenment by Barbara Ardinger

In the version of the calendar I follow, February 1 is the true beginning of spring. That’s because early February is when we can see the light coming back. We know spring is really coming. February opens with a holiday/holy day variously known as Imbolc, Brigid, and Groundhog Day. Imbolc is the name of a traditional Celtic festival. The word is related to milk, possibly ewes’ milk, as lambing starts around this time. Brigid, whose name means “bright one,” is a triple goddess and ruler of (1) the sun and fire (and smithcraft), (2) poetry and inspiration, and (3) healing and medicine. It’s said that the straw left over from making Brigid’s crosses and other charms has healing powers. The newer Brigid is the Catholic saint who refused to marry and became a nun. And, of course, Groundhog Day is a secular holiday that uses helpless animals to make silly predictions. (But the movie is good.)

February (from the Latin word februa, which mean purification) gives us opportunities to become both enlightened and endarkened (yes, another word I invented).

ENLIGHTENMENT: “You light up my life.” A charismatic person “lights up the room.” When we become aware of something, the “lights go on” or we suddenly “see the light.” In cartoons, a light bulb turns on over the head of the guy who has the idea. Conversely, we call someone who isn’t enlightened “a dim bulb,” or maybe we say, “The lights are on but nobody’s home.”

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