Aluah Stories
Aluah loves a good story.
When telling one, she may even add some embellishment.
Aluah Stories Prelude
Stories are stories. We all have them, and we all love to listen to a good story.
To get people’s attention to tell a story, I often ask for permission. For example, “Would you allow me to tell you a story.” Usually by this time, people realize that they have no choice and they are going to hear it one way or another; so they usually concede and grant permission. In most cases, they are not disappointed and usually are quite delighted. My story may even portend one of yours, of which I would love to hear.
Stories are best, if they are true. Usually the foundation and framework of my stories are true, but I also allow myself some room for embellishment, too, even if not totally true. It’s for effect and enhancement, and isn’t meant to be deceptive – only to add joy, wonderment, and imagination in our lives.
I hope you enjoy them, and proceed to tell some of your own.
Stories are stories. We all have them, and we all love to listen to a good story.
To get people’s attention to tell a story, I often ask for permission. For example, “Would you allow me to tell you a story.” Usually by this time, people realize that they have no choice and they are going to hear it one way or another; so they usually concede and grant permission. In most cases, they are not disappointed and usually are quite delighted. My story may even portend one of yours, of which I would love to hear.
Stories are best, if they are true. Usually the foundation and framework of my stories are true, but I also allow myself some room for embellishment, too, even if not totally true. It’s for effect and enhancement, and isn’t meant to be deceptive – only to add joy, wonderment, and imagination in our lives.
I hope you enjoy them, and proceed to tell some of your own.
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Two Little Flies
It’s amazing how two little flies Can become such good company. Not just for a few minutes, But for hours, and hours. Especially on a hot muggy day, When all I want to do is go along my way. I got into my truck, and to my dismay Two little flies had joined me. I tried at first to swoosh them out, Opened all the windows and drove really fast. The breeze felt good and cooled my hair, As I chased the intruders with my baseball cap And a nasty stair. To no avail I rode and failed, To rid these bugs from my trail. They nipped and bit, And gnawed my ankles Like their last treat. I itched. I slapped. I scratched. I kicked. Somewhere along the way, It finally occurred to me That I was almost enjoying Their bad company. Fading sun in the west did best. My little pests began to rest. With headlights bright and darkness here, My little friends disappeared Somewhere in my truck without a fight. The day was gone that brought them near. Finally home, I went to bed Dreaming of two little friends Buzzing around my sleepy head. Auto Auction Day
When I grew up in Starbuck, Minnesota, in the 1950’s and ‘60’s, my dad was a car salesman and parts/service manager for the Star Motor Ford Dealership. I loved the new-car showings every fall, but I also loved going with him to the auto auction in Mason City, Iowa. I remember those trips like yesterday. When I was a small boy, And my dad sold cars, I couldn’t wait for those One or two times a year I got invited to ride along To look for new wheels And find a good deal. Next to going hunting Or fishing with my dad, This was the best day I could ever have. We got up early And drove really far – A little sleepy I was When the eastern sun Broke over the horizon. I woke up really quick and Saw thousands of cars -- Like a flock of geese Waiting to rise. The cars rested easy On the black tarry lot, Until the cry of the auctioneer Called them to the block. One by one The cars went by -- When would Dad shoot, I thought, and Claim his prize. Dealers come from Far and near to hear The auctioneer. This is the place Of excitable space, Where markets ring And dealers are king. Not every car Is my dad’s delight, So he lets this one go Without a fight. As the next car rolls in, He knows she’s for him. With a cackle and a call, I can hear the cock crow – Dad makes a bid with A subtle move of his chin. The auctioneer says sold To that dealer with the Little boy next to him. Ya Baby! Way to go Dad -- A new set of wheels. What’s the limit on that to See your dad make a deal. |