Global Warming: The Rant

When Fern was about four, he had a friend whose father worked for me.  One day, Fern came home from preschool and headed straight to me. 

"Poppa?"

"Hi Fern!  How are you?" 

"Upton told me you are the boss of everyone at work.  Are you the boss of everyone?"

"No, Fern, I am not.  Not even close." 

I could see the disappointment on Fern's face.  He thought carefully about my response, and then asked,
 

"I can still believe it, though, right Poppa?"

Broader and Deeper. Maybe.

 

"Mr. Deadwood, I have a question."

"Sure, Holly.  Shoot."

"I was wondering why you don't talk about anything in your blog other than early retirement."

"Uh, well, it's an early retirement blog."

"Tentative"

"Tentative"

Another Original Screenplay

by

Oregon Deadwood

FADE IN:

INT. DEADWOOD'S HOME - 3 AM

DEADWOOD, a middle-aged, average height, still balding (turns out, Rogaine's no panacea) blogger from the Northwest is fast asleep in bed when he hears a loud banging on his front door.

Freedom vs. Happiness

Fern was about three years old when he asked Rooty and me for 

1. a brother
2. a sister
3. a dog
4. a cat

In that priority order.

It took us awhile, but we finally got him a baby brother.  But the addition of Sprout to the family wasn't quite what Fern envisioned.  Months later, when Sprout was about eight months old, Fern came back to us and announced:

"Mm..I think I want a dog, instead."

 

Never one to miss an opportunity, I replied:

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?  They've got a 90 day exchange policy, I can't do anything about it now!"