Mark's Reflections, Ruminations, And Remarks

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Articles: 1, 2

I Bristled At The Truth
2007-11-16 12:49:00
She took her hand off of my chin and judged, "Well it's not as putrid as I'd thought it would be. It might be ok." I had higher expectations.© 2007 - Mark R Trost - All Rights Reserved
More About: Truth , Ruth , The Truth

Not For Naught: A Knotty Post
2007-11-16 12:00:00
I lived and I cared naught.I lived and I cared I was not.Now I live in a knot.Jesus, I need a masseur.© 2007 - Mark R Trost - All Rights Reserved
More About: Post , Naught , Knot

A Couple of Regular Guys: Fraternal Fragility
2007-11-15 17:58:00
I’m considered a regular. No, not size. I’m an XL. Well, it’s important if you’re considering shipping a gift. I’m a regular because I regularly frequent a local restaurant. Now I refuse to pretend I don’t see people when they pass my way. So, I introduce myself to anyone I regularly encounter. I know the names of my cashiers. I know the names of my librarians. I know the names of my waiters and waitresses.And I refuse to use sexless terms like waitron or wait staff. I don’t feel one must be castrated to be employed and I’m certain other men - when not busy crossing their legs while reading this - will agree when they can concentrate on the text. I think the narrator of any story or the conveyor of any conversation should take the time to provide all the necessary facts. If the waitress was worth a mention, then let me mention a little narration tip: she’s worth a complete explanation and entitled to a proper title. Besides, calling them waiters or waitresses is in...
More About: Couple , Regular , Guys

What’s In Store For Our Society; I Went Grocery Shopping Today.
2007-11-15 00:02:00
The first time she twirled and thumped my leg I dismissed her actions and stepped back a pace. The second time she twirled and struck me, I saw her aim. Her mother stood near the register and pretended she hadn’t noticed her darling as she screamed and tossed herself.“Don’t let her hit me again,” I said.Her mother glanced over to me, “Excuse me?”“I said don’t let her hit me again.” I reiterated. Her daughter’s monosyllabic modulations masked my monotonically mentioned words.The mother rolled her eyes and bent near her precious. “He doesn’t like to be touched,” she advised her four year old. She spoke the words as if having an aversion to assault was abnormal.“No, I don’t like to be hit,” I reproved. I started to admonish her and educate her about the appropriate behavior of children in a civilized society and the rules of personal space, but I saw she was beyond reason. Anyone who would deem it socially acceptable to allow her child to stand in a pub...
More About: Society , Shopping , Today , Store , Grocery

Sharing Formation: A Font Of Information
2007-11-12 19:53:00
I stood with my back on the wall and my head bowed. I waited my turn. The line was longer than I expected. I glanced over and saw him. He held his son. He made the Sign of The Cross and then rose off of his knees and walked out of the row and away from the pews. He saw me and we nodded our heads. We both knew it wasn’t odd to see our friend with a bowed head in a church. He’s one of my closest friends and we’ve knelt beside each other many times in our lives. Seeing him isn’t an event, it’s eventual. So, I concentrated on the rosary in my hand.He toted his son on his hip and came over to shake my hand. I looked up from my fist, “Jesus man, quit following me.” He laughed and transferred his son from hip to hoof. His son toddled beside him. I bent at my waist and shook his hand. He raised his arms and I lifted him to my chest and held him as I spoke to his father. “What’s up?” I asked as his son rubbed the stubble on my cheeks. We agreed that we’d meet. I’d co...
More About: Information , Font , Sharing , Hari

Barely Bristles: Whiskering Hope
2007-11-11 15:45:00
Stubble is only an honor when you're 13, but I'm forty-five years old and I've never sported a beard. What the hell, it's something to do. On day 3 I have less of a Sean-Connery-going-bald-but-bearded thing and more of a why-hasn't-Mark-bathed kind of look.© 2007 - Mark R Trost - All Rights Reserved
More About: Hope , Barely , Erin

Avowed: Poverty
2007-11-10 19:09:00
She stood before a classroom while wars were waged and worlds were ravaged. She’s too old to teach and too young to bury. There’s no place for her. She’s told she has no use. She is physically too old to pay the price of pride. She has poor eyesight. She has poor circulation. She's feeling poorly. Her body is too weak to offer toil yet her mind is too active to ignore turmoil.Poverty is problematic to the aged who are physically poor and too ill for options.© 2007 - Mark R Trost - All Rights Reserved
More About: Vert

Avowed: Chastity
2007-11-10 19:02:00
When he feels the most vulnerable, he can still remember her sting when he touches his cheek as he shaves the gray stubble off of his chin.She stepped away from him and glowered into his gaze. “Don’t I mean anything to you?” she cried. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” he earnestly mumbled. “How about the truth?” she beseeched. “You want the truth?” he shuddered. “Sure” she naively challenged. “You’re just another person I have to say goodbye to” he admitted. His vocation made the words vital. His youth made him brazen; his innocence absolved any brutal intentions. “Well you can say that now - you son of a bitch!” she screamed as she slapped him across the mouth.Chastity is complicated to the ardent youth.© 2007 - Mark R Trost - All Rights Reserved

Avowed: Obedience
2007-11-10 18:49:00
He put his hands inside his pockets and felt the silt from a spool. Empty pockets beget empty stomachs, he reasoned as he heard his boss order the unreasoned. He swallowed his pride as he opened his mouth. “Sure I can do that,” he submitted.Obedience is onerous to the wise who must submit.© 2007 - Mark R Trost - All Rights Reserved

Beer Nuts
2007-11-10 04:29:00
I had a beer with a buddy. I know. I know. The season has changed and pale ale is passé. Certainly, you’re correct. And when I went out with my friend Sandi Wednesday, I celebrated the season with my evolution to a black russian. Black russians are dark and moody and suit the season in Minnesota. But I don’t drink that often and I think two nights of russians is rushing towards alcoholism. And besides, today I began a beard and beards are seasonal. So anyway, my buddy and I shared a bullshit and he mentioned my blog. I took out my phone and typed his comment verbatim: “Jesus Mark, your title the obligation of enlightenment is ballsy man. Just ballsy.” And I replied, “Yeah.”© 2007 - Mark R Trost - All Rights Reserved
More About: Beer , Nuts

Standing My Ground
2007-11-09 20:22:00
I’d gotten to know her over the days she was admitted. I volunteer at a hospital and we chatted as I pushed her chair. We shared about our afflictions and we spoke about our musical affections. We became quite fond of each other. Yesterday she was released. I pushed her to her room so she could gather her things and we could say goodbye.As a patient I had spent many horrendous hours and five devastating days on the same wing, so my chest tightened to match my grip as we made our way down the hall. We passed a bulletin board and I read my podiatrist’s name. I touched it with my hand. The action seems foolish but he touched me with his humanity. He is a humble man doing honorable work. Yesterday I stood where he has stood as she sat where I had sat. As I type this I have a tear in my eye. I’ve cried thrice in twenty-five years and even now I seep and do not shed, but Dr. Ryan Pfannenstein is so kind to me. His goodness humbles me and his presence on ea...
More About: Ground , Standing

Geriatric Stew
2007-11-09 00:26:00
Each morning he got up and faced the same meal. He alleviated the alike by cavorting with his cutlery. He frolicked with his fork and he speared with his spoon, yet each morning the meal was a twin. He heard of other foods, he noticed other nutrition and he tasted at other tables. He developed a taste for the tasty and a drive for distinctive dinners. “Sustenance must do more than sustain,” he decided. “Nutrition needn’t just nurture. It should be noticeable,” he discerned. His mental menu became a piecemeal of pieces from imagined meals: sautés from his seen and entrées from entertainments. His table was deserted yet soon he’d make it desserted: cakes and cookies and confections. He deemed it less a dream and more a quest and he began to attain his banquet.It would take preparation. It would take perseverance. It would take toil and it would take tears. Yet the bounty was in the banquet and the goal would arrive at the gathering. He divided his space into a place ju...