Eskewpades

ESKEWPADES ORANGE TRUMPS RED and GREEN for CHRISTMAS, 2019 Hurrah and humbug. Here’s to our annual ambivalence. Time to decorate, shop ’til ya drop and develop a mild drinking habit to cope. As a staunch offline shopper, allow me to emphasize that I do indeed love the Internet but I hate the hassle of being hacked. However, I absolutely adore aIl of you online shoppers. Your method of shopping at home helps free up space for me at the malls. I’m no misanthrope, not even a curmudgeon, but I’m also no Mr. Congeniality among fellow shoppers. Call me a sour puss, but let’s face it, when it comes to selecting gifts, I’m testy only because I suck teabags at the task. Even when the merchants have stocked the stores abundantly, I can never find the confounded gifts that life and wife have dispatched me to buy. We draw names in our family. Lucky me, I drew that of my eccentric sister-in-law, Verbena. A tough one to please. Drawing her name has become comparable

Lamebrain name-storming   Sticks and stones may break my bones but whips, chains––and the lamest of names––excite me.   Just for kicks, call me Moby Dick. Hell, call me Ishmael or almost any other name––but never “Mr. Eskew.” When people address me as Mr. Eskew, I almost always utter a one-word response:“Gesundheit!” Actually, it’s not names per se that numb my noggin. It’s the arduous task of actually naming a person, place or thing. Indeed, brainstorming names has never been my thang.   Recently I dissembled my third website in favor of building a new blog. I desperately   needed to dream up an appropriate new   name. New, because currently, to schedule time for cutting my false teeth properly, I’m narrowing my writing output to one genre only, one that reflects my absurdities.   Hard work be damed. You’re a thing of the past. Tick-tock–I need time to swing, baby.   Down with my past writings of theater, book reviews, profiles, previews and sociopol