Skip to main content

The Adventures of Donut Boy

Chapter 1 -- Awakenings
Like a ghost in the early morning fog, donut boy made his way to that office he knew so well. He could recite the number off the top of his head: 31A-216. That was the location where, like so many times before, he was to deliver the precious cargo. Two dozen of Ray LaMar's finest. As predicted, no one was there when he made his delivery. Jeff knew from the early hours he was accustomed to working that there rarely was anyone in the building at 7:00 am, yet the fact that it was donut Friday sometimes motivated folks like JP, the usual resident at that office, to arrive earlier than their usual 7:15 on the off chance the pastries would be there early… or just to drink coffee and await the arrival of the donuts. Not today. It took 3 seconds for Mr. Allen to deliver his precious cargo and vanish into the bowels of 31A. Mission accomplished he thought to himself as he went on to do his day job.
To be continued…

While I have your attention (or assuming I have not already lost it with feeble my dabbling into novel writing), an administrative matter. As many of you know, I will be leaving the country for five weeks starting next Thursday. I have entrusted the sacred mission of re-chartering the donut club (which occurs while I'm out) to Mr. Ed Stocker. I would ask that you please remove the junk mail rules I know some of you have in place to automatically delete Ed's e-mails so you don't miss-out on important Friday Donut Club notices that are sure to come from Ed starting next Friday.

Happy Friday!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

BIrds of a Feather

Friends, The early bird catches the worm, however, as the sun rises I’d much rather have a Denver omelet than a diet of worms . Ready to fly the coop, my ducks all in a row, I ponder one more time whether a bird in hand is truly worth two in the bush. Egged-on by my quest to tuck away a nest egg, I’ve decided to change industries and hope that, like the phoenix, my career will also rise from the ashes of change. After all, I’m no spring chicken –my crow’s feet and gray bely my age – however, I have to trust my judgment and believe you can’t catch this old bird with chaff (whether or not folks think me an odd bird for my actions). And so I shall attempt to soar like an eagle, aware that counting my chickens before they hatch would be ill-advised. As I learn to talk turkey in the language of cybersecurity, I will endeavor not to hide my head in the sand, choosing instead to be like a duck – calm on the surface and paddle like hell underneath! And while my excessive use of bird-inspired

Ashes to Ashes

  Friends, I don’t know about you, but my household tends to use things a tad beyond their reasonably useful life. Cars, razors, pillows... heck, we squeezed the last BTU out of our home’s 25 year old thermostat —15 years is for rookies. This week we bid our fire pit farewell. Structurally unstable and rusted to the core, this contrivance was well on its way to returning to the soil. Memories of s’mores, cigars and shared spirits come rushing back, as does the six foot tall cardboard peach burned atop it, which caused the first stress fractures in the waning days of 2019. Good times! I suppose nothing lasts forever, but memories can add a sense of permanence to the fleeting. So go, grab a donut and make some new memories!! Happy Friday!

To an end to Covid Games

  Friends, As 2021 comes to an end, it’s time to remember and be grateful for another year of life – there’s much for which to be grateful. Sure, some things could have gone better (they always can), but on balance things were good. At the Gonz├ílez household, the cathartic process of capturing this year’s essence to burn at midnight is wrapping-up. This year’s theme, “Covid Games from home” uses Squid games (Netflix’s unlikely breakaway hit) as a way to mock the two main Covid variants of concern (Delta and Omicron) and commiserate about working from home with all the weirdness it carries along. Comfy slippers combined with dressing-up from the waist up for zoom meetings (not to mention the quarantine fifteen). As I hope for lots of snow and no wind (lest we need to call an audible on the midnight burn) my thoughts turn to my friends in Boulder county and hopes for a quick recovery. May 2022 bring an end to confinement and lots of opportunities to share donuts. Happy Friday!