
“China is already dropping more of its planned importation of corn and beans from America, buying more from Brazil and a lot less from us. Why, you ask? Ouch! I didn’t say his name, Lorita! You didn’t have to hit me that hard!”
“Our family farm may be at risk. We lose income from renting the land to local farmers and we won’t have enough to pay down the loan we took to pay for buying out our brother. The Pumpkinhead has screwed us over with his stupid tariff plans.”
“Excuse me, who is this Pumpkinhead guy?”
“That’s what Uncle Mickey calls the former and future president, Lorita, dear.”
Whack!
“Ouch! I never actually said the name Trump, Lorita!”
Whack! Whack!
“Well, Michael, it was your idea.”
“Yeah… the back of my head is regretting it. I thought we gave that girl a hollow whacking stick.”
“She’s ‘been building arm strength by weaving together Christmas wreaths at Butch’s Christmas tree farm.”
“Oh. Well that’s wonderful that you have a job, Sweetie. But you don’t have to hit me so hard if I accidentally say Trump’s name.”
Whack! Whack! Whack!
“Why did you hit me three times?”
“It’s the third time you said his name.”
“Actually, Sweetie, he only said the name twice.”
Whack! Whack!
“Did I get it right that time?”
“Yes, Sweetie. But you have given me brain damage.”
“Shall I kiss it, Uncle Mickey?”
“Yes, please. That makes it better.”
Smooch!
Okay, I confess it. This is all made up for laughs because the Pumpkinhead has done enough to make me mad. In truth, we did not get to go to the farm in Iowa for Thanksgiving Dinner at my Sister Mary’s place. My daughter is sick and confined to the house with flu here in the Dallas suburbs. My wife is still in the Philippines burying her mother. And Lorita is entirely imaginary. But some day we will look back on the end of the world and have a fond laugh… and maybe a wistful cry.
















Eine Kleine Nachtmusik
It is, of course, one of the most powerful, masterful, and best-known pieces of music ever written.
Mozart completed the “little serenade” in Vienna in 1787, but it wasn’t published until 1827, long after Mozart’s untimely death.
The Serenade is incorrectly translated into English as “A Little Night Music”. But this is and always has been the way I prefer to think of it. A creation of Mozart written shortly before he hopped aboard the ferryman’s boat and rode off into the eternal night. It is the artifact that proves the art of the master who even has the word “art” as a part of his name. A little music to play on after the master is gone to prove his universal connection to the great silent symphony that is everything in the universe singing silently together.
It is basically what I myself am laboring now to do. I have been dancing along the edge of the abyss of poverty, suffering, and death since I left my teaching job in 2014. I will soon be taking my own trip into night aboard the ferryman’s dreaded boat. And I feel the need to put my own art out there in novel and cartoon form before that happens.
I am not saying that I am a master on the level of a Mozart. My name is not Mickart. But I do have a “key’ in the name Mickey. And it will hopefully unlock something worthwhile for my family and all those I loved and leave behind me. And hopefully, it will provide a little night music to help soothe the next in line behind me at the ferryman’s dock.
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Filed under artwork, cartoons, classical music, commentary, feeling sorry for myself, Hidden Kingdom, magic, metaphor, music, Paffooney
Tagged as amadeus, classical music, Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, Mozart, music, wolfgang-amadeus-mozart