Author: Robert Gerard Hunt - page 20

Stranger Danger

One minute everything is fine, and then… Twice in my life I have been momentarily convinced that a total stranger was about to kill me.  Given my sheltered upbringing and habitual avoidance of risky behavior and potentially unsafe scenarios, it seems an unlikely statistic.  Both incidents occurred when I was a college student engaged in..

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Reminiscents

I hadn’t thought about this object for quite some time. The other I day I was teaching my class while walking about the room with a long, wooden pointer that I sometimes use to highlight important information but mostly enjoy twirling as a prop.  There’s something about giving it a few spins that seems to..

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Organization Man

First by artist, then by original release date.  An island of control in a sea of chaos. I am not an obsessively organized person, but I will acknowledge a few quirks that, to some, may represent an unnecessary attention to detail, if not a hint of madness.  Although many facets of general housekeeping escape my..

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Art For Hoi Polloi: Salvador Dali

Lowbrow meets lowbrow: Rocky emulators sprint up the visage of Salvador Dali. Recently I came across a live webcam of a construction site in St. Petersburg, Florida.  I was surprised to find not only active workers but fairly interesting activities going on, and I zoomed in to watch a pair of laborers installing triangular glass..

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Confidentially…

What do Bugs Bunny, taking a bath, and a precocious vocabulary have in common? This is a cautionary tale, a story of how ignorance and the nuances of language can combine with coincidence to convey an unintended message of a mortifying caliber.  It is the true account of a boy who was unaware that the unpleasantness..

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Yes, Wonderful

Ever have one of those days? “I’ve been nominated for membership in the National Geographic Society.” “Aw, youth is wasted on the wrong people!” “This old thing?  Why, I only wear it when I don’t care how I look.” “Well, I’m sorry – HEY!” “Out you two pixies go, through the door or out the..

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Please Rewind

Do the abbreviations SP, LP, and SLP mean anything to you? The year is 2009.  The setting:  an elementary school.  During a break between classes, I dart into the office and scan the staff mailboxes.  Lurking in my apportioned slot is a shrink-wrapped, rectangular box of vaguely familiar dimensions.  I retrieve the item and turn it..

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The Price of Vandalism

Ramp to nowhere:  the morning after fire destroyed the Sway Fun glider. Where were you on the Saturday night after Thanksgiving?  That’s what the police will be asking you, if they ever discover that you were responsible for the apparent act of arson that lit up the field behind our house like a campfire gone..

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Son Of A Son Of A Son Of A Son Of A Civil War Soldier

The Hunt men:  from left, Grandfather Roy, Great-Grandfather Frank, and Great-Great-Grandfather Horace. I drive past two thousand, two hundred and sixty dead Confederate soldiers every morning on my way to work.  Perhaps this would not be noteworthy were I a denizen of the south, but I live in Columbus, Ohio, well into old Union territory. ..

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A Study In Scarred Lit.

John Watson regales us with yet another adventurous yarn. There is a wonderful moment in John Kennedy Toole’s A Confederacy of Dunces in which the eccentric protagonist is so incensed by what he sees on a movie screen that he cannot help shouting out his indignation.  “Oh, good heavens!” bellows Ignatius J. Reilly to the..

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