A coffin shop in Macau.

On March 20 at 1:00 p.m., the Sun will reach the First Point of Aries, an imaginary point in the sky where the ecliptic (the path that the Sun follows across the sky) meets the celestial equator—in other words, when the Sun crosses the imaginary line in space above, and corresponding to, the Earth’s equator. When this occurs, we get the Vernal Equinox, the start of Spring in the Northern Hemisphere. For the Southern Hemisphere, it will be the Autumnal Equinox.



Hobart trudged the seven blocks, fully loaded as it were, to Nicollet Avenue and awaited the bus with the proper change. At my age the proper change is of the most import.

His challenge was to discover in a real library, the metropolitan library, why Thomas Jefferson referred to himself as a Deist and felt it of import to edit the Bible!

The bus arrived so that he could enter, find a seat with no companion and begin writing some more notes.

Three to six dollars a week took care of his bus fares as well as his notebooks and pens.

Hobart had already figured out that Mom represented no source of funds for the bus or for Bics or pads.

He had to make sure that he would hit the 5:30 PM bus for home or he would have to listen to the harangues from one of the worst maternal figures white suburbia would ever discover.

And he knew this from at least five decades prior to this bus ride.

Hobart was no genius.

No no no. Hobart was one of those unfortunate souls who was sentenced to relive his life once again in what appeared to be a parallel universe or a god’s prank.

What in the hell would it be like to actually know the name of every single President who would rule the nation for the next 5 decades?

He somehow watched his lip and made his notes and made sure that he would not let on that he had somehow become the boy with the second chance!

Oooooooops, almost missed the block.

Hobart exited the bus and proceeded to the library.


(marty feldman and judy wollfe and thomas wollfe)

Judy Wollfe returned to her abode, as usual by four O’Clock CST.

Hobart had demoralized her but Marty (of all people) virtually elated her.

She dropped her purse in the usual area and undressed in the bedroom, re cladding herself as mumsy.

Wendy, are you here?

Her 8 year old appeared.

Yes Mumsy!

Well come into the kitchen and help me prepare for the feast!

Wendy was her favorite as if moms all over the world did not have their favorites.

What are we preparing today?

Well Wendy, reaching down and kissing Wendy softy upon the pate.

We are going to peel some potatoes so that we might be ready to cook them in an hour or so. How about that?

Sounds good Mommy!

Whenever Wendy said Mommy, there was love in the air and it made Judy feel so so so good!

Somehow Wendy could become a baptismal device; like one sweet reaction from this waif and Judy felt born again!

Judy reached for the five pound potato bag that she had glommed onto for a mere forty cents and began undoing the attached twister.

Wendy we are going to fix a feast for a King and his fiefdom and this shall be fun!

Oh a King and his thiefdom indeed, replied Wendy!

Judy laughed. I aint gonna attempt to correct that line.

Out of the mouths of babes indeed! Mommy thought!

Judy had prepared a potato parer with some electrical tape so that Wendy could properly grasp the tool and not hurt herself.

Her mommy had done the same thing for her. Judy recalled the hundreds of times she helped prepare dinner with Mom. Oh how I dearly loved that woman.

Not so many minutes later the two girls had skinned about twenty taters and Judy began the cubing so that the result might sit in the pan of boiling water for the proper period.

During this period of experiencing her girl, Judy gleaned something of her daughter’s day and soon discovered that Wendy was indeed brighter than the average girl and realized how much—oh how much she really depended upon this dependent.


Oh Jesus Christ. Why the hell does he have to announce his entrance as if he were in some sitcom?


Marty entered his abode at 5:00 PM (CST) to find his Martha passed out on the couch.

Holy Christ! Marty had problems with blasphemy ever since he got out of the army.

The two kids were in some after school project. At least twins were the same age and could be accounted for with minimal investigatory skills.

Marty got on the phone and ordered Chinese.

At least Martha had this inheritance that paid for the mortgage on this Rancher as they say.

I need to order for take-out.

Very good.

Han always said very good even if it was not very good.

Two orders of sub-gum chicken chow mein.

Two orders of egg foo young

three orders of eggs rolls.

And…and…and…That otta do it!

Cash. We need cash on pick-up.

For sure.

I shall be there in fifteen.

They always demand cash. What a damn downer. I mean I am a contributing member of society and I have never floated one check in my entire life and…

Oh shite! Who gives a damn. I mean it is five bucks!

Honey, you have to wake up.

It is time.

I am going to get dinner….wake up damn you!


There it is, that is what I am looking for! Damn, he really did edit his own Bible!

Imagine that!

Hobart of course already knew that Thomas Jefferson had created his own Bible. The ejaculation (as it were) lied in the fact that he had actually found such an assertion in 1962.

Here he had found a cite and a quotation and he had all this marked down.

Mark it down, file it in some logical order and place properly in the three ringer.

Those menial tasks will be simplified but not for decades.

Make the best of it.

You shall be rewarded in the end, he thought!


What are we to believe?

Assume makes an ass out of you or an ass out of me!

I mean, how do we know what we know?

I do not know that John Kennedy is President of the United States.

I certainly surmise that it is so.

But why do I surmise that John Kennedy is President of the United States of America?

Well we see President Kennedy on TV.

We read about our President in our newspapers; if we read our newspapers.

Our teachers inform us that John Fitzgerald Kennedy is the 35th President of the United States of America.

Let me just inform you all that based upon everything I have read and based upon everything I have seen on our TV that it is more likely than not that JFK is the President of the United States.

But let me refer to other mediums that cause me doubt with regard to the messages rendered by these mediums. That is to say TV, newspapers, magazines and our teaching establishments!

We were sent to the auditorium the other day to view a movie. The movie was not Gone With the Wind for chrissakes. The movie dealt with the possibility of Nuclear War.

(Mrs. Judy gasped and nobody else made a sound)

But this movie told us all that we must hide under our desks if and when we are alerted to a nuclear disaster.

And yet, and yet, just three weeks ago according to my diary, we were presented with a film that demonstrated when the U.S. dropped the ‘bomb’ upon Nagasaki as well as Hiroshima, almost everyone within the boundaries of those cities were burned alive.

It seems to me that the desks would only act as kindling in the event of the newer bombs already manufactured and ready for use by both sides of our manufactured world: two wit: US VS THEM.

So how in the heck are we to defend ourselves from the onslaught of slings and arrows that are tipped with modern technology?

We are not able to defend ourselves at all!


In other words, we shall all be melted into one huge urban blob in the case of a nuclear war initiated between the two super powers.

The two powers being:


The end.

Hobart sat down to the applause of three kids instead of two whilst the other 27 just kind of looked at themselves.


Judy was, well Judy was less than elated.

It did hit her however that this Hobart guy no longer belonged in the 4th grade! To say the least.

Then she recalled that at her last union meeting, it was pointed out that the great thinkers (in fourth grade terminology) should be forwarded to other parts!

Perhaps she would meet with Joe, present some of these typed papers and we can just get rid of the little bugger per some testing out process.


Hobart is that you?

Yes Mom.

Where in the hell have you been? I swear to god almighty I will send you to military school…

For what? Going to the library? Just go back into your drunken stupor and leave me the hell alone!

You cannot speak to me in this manner!

Oh yeah I can Mom. I have Kodachrome and I have pix of you lying on the floor in your own vomit.

Mom just sneered and returned to her abode; her abode being this smelly master bedroom (in the theme of master bedrooms of the lower middle class in white suburbia)

Hobart had the pix.

Hobart had purchased his own vegetables along with a pound of lean hamburger as well as bread for about $1.33.

Hobart made his dinner and attempted to channel his anger into other provinces.


3 thoughts on “HOBART; Ch-2

    1. Oh if only I could go back and do it all over again!

      You ever notice how some small kids have an edge?

      Sometimes I actually believe in reincarnation! Backwards of course.

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