A Film Noir

You often hear of a film noir or a book noir. Well yesterday I had a breakfast noir, my bread got caught in the toaster.

Toaster Autopsy Report.

I did my autopsy on GE yesterday. I can do this myself  because in the Air Force I was an electronics tech. So this was a piece of cake. That reminds me. I want to thank all the seniors who paid taxes because it was their taxes that paid for my training. That out of the way, now on to the autopsy. I'm happy to say it was not a homicide so my son is off the hook. It came down to cholesterol. I think it was all that white bread he toasted before it became cholesterol free and we switched to whole wheat and multi-grain.
One of the veins was burnt out and had to be replaced. With the new cord, he went back to work with no sick leave. As a point of interest, I found a blog entry where I had fixed this toaster 10 yrs. ago. At that time I had written that it was 42 yrs. old. It was also a cord at that time also.
Here is a picture of my toaster with his friends showing of his new cord. What a publicity hound.

Requiem for a Toaster.

On the 26th. of May, 2020, a chrome toaster that went by the name of GE passed away at the age of 52, from what is believed to be electrical shock. A faithful toaster who worked daily since his conception in 1968, was made in the U.S. of A. and was purchased as a wedding present at a CANEX outlet in Baden, W. Germany. He had travel experience in Europe and Canada and loved being with his friends coffee maker, Nutri Bullet and Magic Bullet who will sorely miss him. Also missing him will be his extended family of plates, knives and spoons.
Funeral arrangements have not been made because of an autopsy planned for tomorrow. There is some suspicion of foul play with the main suspect being my son. He was the last one to see it functioning and told no one that it no longer worked. His alibi is that it worked fine when he used it. It must have been the next person who is at fault. Since I was the next person to use it, I find his statement to be untrue. As of yet, it is not known if it was a homicide, suicide or just plain old age. The results of the autopsy will be posted at a later date.

Brown Sugar Sandwich

It is a beautiful day, finally.

A friend of my wife asked me yesterday, if I remembered brown sugar sandwiches. OMG - Yes, I remember brown sugar sandwiches. Two slices of white bread, cover one side with brown sugar, sprinkle with water so it doesn't fall out, slap the other slice of bread on it, and voila. She told me she sprinkled it with milk, because they had a cow. Yes! The good old days. Makes you wonder why we're still alive.

It's hard to believe. The LA Dodgers bankrupt. They are in the center of a divorce, so good luck to them. They could actually pack their bags and hit the road.

So they finally found Blogojevich guilty. I've seen him on reality shows, and got the impression you don't need to be intelligent to be a Gov. Of course this is true for all politicans. The gift of the gab is what matters. Then again, it could have been his hair. He is now eligible for a 300 hundred years government vacation. Do they really give people 300 years. Probably out in five years. I do notice that people who murder someone are treated less harsh than those that cheat  someone.

I have been watching items on TV about Hitler, and do you know that by the end of the war he had jets, stealt bombers, rockets and was months away from an atom bomb. We were almost toast. Well, I was young, I would have been crumbs.


Jack Sakalauskas
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Breakfast

It seems the storm was for everyone else except around here. We had some wind and rain, nothing to get exiceted about. I wrote a story about breakfast and will post it on my other blog. http://originalmagazineads.com/flashfiction/
Since it is so close to the truth, I'll post it here also.

Raisin Bread Toast

Mmm! Morning again. At least I'm on the right side of the grass. With my head still a bit foggy, I hear the sounds of my wife busy making her breakfast. I smell raisin bread toasting. Since we don't climb out of bed at the same time, we have the habit to make our own breakfast. This works out well as no one has to wait for someone and each of us may sleep in if desired.

Today I have been sleeping late. Though I could say, I am not sleeping late; this is just my usual time to get up. Christmas is close so it is probably cold outside. Then I remember, the weatherman calls for a very cold day. My mind toys with the idea I could stay in bed longer. Being retired, I can't exactly say my dance card is full. But no, that's the formula for a bad habit so I best get up.

With this decision the door is opened to my first chore, decide on breakfast. I think breakfast comes off as the worse time in the day. Not breakfast itself, but the chore of having to decide what to eat for breakfast. There are too many choices. I could have a bagel, with many assorted toppings. Maybe cereal, but the choices seem endless. Not bacon and eggs, that's my Sunday treat. Then there's the old standby. Toast, and the jams and jellies for spreading on it.

Obviously my wife has decided on raisin bread toast. I like raisin bread toast, but it doesn't like me. The great taste is replaced with the not so great heartburn and indigestion taste. So, pass on the raisin bread. This disappoints me, as I like raisin bread, especially with coffee. I need another choice and I am starting to lean towards a bagel. At this point I could cheat and have a raisin bagel. But why fool myself; the result would be the same.

I wonder if rich people have this same problem. Do they decide what to have or does someone else make the decision for them? Perhaps all the choices have been prepared and laid out on a table. All they do is pick out what they want. I wonder how many choices they would have. Would they just pick at everything? Would they show concern about all the waste?

What about the predictions I heard when I was growing up? Looking ahead fifty years, they convinced us food would no longer remain as it is now. A roast beef meal they affirmed,would be replaced by a pill. Sure, I take a pill every day, but it's Lipitor, followed by a dessert, like Vitamin C and Omega oil. They were partly right, we do take pills.

Feet planted firmly on the floor, I sit on the mattress edge, pondering my naval and the breakfast menu. My mind is yet to be made up. Still rolling the choices, I walk downstairs and see my wife at the kitchen counter making toast. Easy for her. She doesn't seem to have the same problem as I do.

She greets me with a smile. "Good morning dear. I've made you coffee and raisin bread toast for breakfast."