The Ugly…

The price of gasoline has dropped considerably since the high of five dollars.  When the price was at record highs it curtailed driving, speed and the existence of gas-guzzling SUV’s on the road.  Now, however, with the lowered price of gas I see people driving on the roads again as though there were no such thing as an energy crisis.  The speed by at gas-chugging rates in their big SUV’s as though fuel were a dime a gallon; they have no concern for either the future of fuel prices or the future of the next generation of drivers.  And on top of this the sales of SUV’s are once again skyrocketing as the preferred vehicle of new owners.  This is an ugly business all around and I find it hard to believe the memory of the American driver is so short.

I grieve for my country’s fate.

The Bad…

How can I resist?

Little Red and I were on our way back from the store picking up a new basket of goodies and in the process we have to walk past an exercise establishment for women of a certain stature; the name of the place rhymes with “pervs.”  I remarked that it is my fervent wish that one day when we return from the goodie store that we would stop in front of the windows of “pervs” and eat cupcakes as the users workout on their recumbent exercise equipment.  I love showing Little Red off in public.  Oh yes, I do.  So how could I resist?

I’m so bad.

The Good…

The other day I was being a Good wolf minding my own business as I filled out a crossword puzzle.  I came across a clue that read, “crucifixion letters.”  Naturally, the first response that popped into my mind was “RSVP” which seems oddly appropriate and fit the four squares.

Barking mad

Here is your latest Internet meme (by way of Little Red), name your three top choices of showbiz stars (living or dead) to physically represent God (Mithras, Allah, Yahweh, whatever, etc.) on earth.  Mine are in order of preference:

1. Liberace
2. James Earl Jones
3. Carmen Electra

Go!

Where there is fear…

Found it on Flickr.  We like it.

What Screams May Come

It might be inconceivable to some that I would either be willing to wait so long for my Little Red or even be ready to pounce when the time came.  It might be inconceivable to some that the big, bad wolf could be found behind a woolen facade.  The trick to sheep’s clothing is not only that it is comfortable but also makes the best camouflage.  More so the pity that so few recognize it when they see it, and fewer still are those who accept it once the wool is lifted from their eyes.

But Little Red knows better.

Little Red knows what lurks in the woods with big paws, big eyes and eponymous teeth.  All the better…all the better…

Now the two of us hang out in Granny’s shack in the woods sharing goodies and making mischief.  Little Red the better and sunnier of we two, and I the darker half of sunlit glens, the shadow amongst the trees.  She knows that others still can only see the meek, little lamb but she knows the bite that waits to claim the unwary.  Little Red often must chide me for my caustic tongue and biting humor; her wolf is tame as tame can be.

She knows that this is only the beginning and her wolf (bad or good) will have so much more to say about so many things to come.

The Hunting Wolf

How long does mischief linger in the heart?

How long have my plans really been in the works?

How far back do you want to look?

I have known my Little Red for over eighteen years now and I still remember the first time I laid eyes on her.  It was the flashing white smile and the dazzling blue eyes that first caught my attention along with the red, red hair.  On occasion I have a thing for red hair; on occasion it is my greatest vexation.  She also has the finest derriere I have ever seen in my long and simple life.  But I was a poor boy from a poor family and terribly insecure about such things as meeting someone new and so I let things hang between us on a smile and a shy glance.  My work took me away from her for a few months after that first moment and the next time I saw her she was in the company of another man.

He was a decent guy, a friend even, someone I respect and so I did not move to interfere.  Instead I went on with my life, my work, my passing relationships and Little Red went on with hers.  Many years passed, many marriages (not so many, but more than one), many times I saw her.  Little Red and I would run into each other at social gatherings and the like; we had many friends in common.  And always, always, the mischief in my heart was there; I could not deny it.  I would not even unto this day.  Little Red has been with me in my heart from the very first.

And so the bad, bad wolf waited patiently and somewhat loyally for the opportunity to arise.  I would prowl around the woods watching from the treeline at dear Little Red.  Waiting and hoping, she never left my consciousness.  I even dreamed of her in my sleeping hours.  Then as with all things related to time, it finally came to pass that I could put my plan into play and lunged playfully at my unsuspecting Little Red to sweep her off her feet.  Quite so, I took her right off her feet; at least this wolf was gentle enough to cushion her fall.  Now she is mine; hood, basket, goodies and all.

Mine.

The Best Laid Planning

How did this blog come to be known as “Planning Mischief, etc.”?  As fate would have it, after my Little Red (one of many nicknames I have for my dearest) made it plain to me that I was indeed not only a wolf but her Wolf, I sought to find an appropriate wolf-like image on the Internet to surprise her.  I came across an uploaded image taken from a children’s book about Little Red Riding Hood and the Big, Bad Wolf.  The text at the bottom of the pictured page said:

“IN HIS HEART THE WOLF WAS PLANNING MISCHIEF.“

It was a classic line from a classic page classically illustrated from a classic book about iconic characters.  It also turned out to be a page from a book we both read as children so it was only fitting.  When my Little Red saw it she burst out with the type of smile that makes icebergs melt.  That also was classic.  And since then, when the time is right, she often ponders just what mischief am I planning.

The Wolf Inside

Sometimes wolves do come in sheep’s clothing.  Not everyone sees that though it is an accepted convention.  But sometimes, some places, somehow somebody does notice.  My case in point is that it is actually true for myself.  So very wickedly true.  You see, there used to be a running joke that if I were left to my own devices I would be eaten by wolves.  But what many failed to notice, for a very long time, is that I have never really been in danger of being devoured by the pack.  In fact I have always seemed to not only survive the wild times but actually thrive through them.  The pack always knows its own.

You would think someone would have picked up on that by now.

Well, so it happens someone finally did.  My own Little Red Riding Hood, my Little Red, saw right through me.  In her own words she told me that I was never a sheep; I am her Wolf.  She marvels that no one else ever saw it.  I have explained to her that I wear it well.  Those sheep skins can be so comfortable and fitting.  If you can take the visual of Buffalo Bill from Silence of the Lambs then you know how it was for this wolf to stand in front of the mirror and preen in his wool suit.  So soft, so becoming.  My Little Red gets a little disturbed when I do that.  But it is all in good fun; she knows I am her Wolf.  She knows what others never understood through the years.

Mostly I am Little Red’s good Wolf, and she encourages me to be so, but sometimes I am her BAD Wolf as she laughingly says.  Good?  Bad?  It concerns me yes, but it is all the difference between a sly grin and a wicked one.

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