Hi there. This blog is devoted to all manner of creative writing and is updated several times each year. This means investigations and analyses; poetry and prose; reviews of film, literature, and music. This means dramatic writing, introspective writing, unique and original writing. This means politics and passions, hobbies and recommendations.
I invite each of you to provide comments or criticism, suggestions and feedback at any time. I would also like to invite you all to submit your own original content. Simply e-mail me or insert your desired copy as a comment, with a small note to say so. Please include your own ‘byline’ information, copyright information and/or author’s note so you can be credited for your own work.
More voices mean more variety. Let’s fill this Kitchen Sink with all the beauty and originality it can handle.
By Chris Hibbard
29.8 per cent.
That was the turnout at our last municipal election. Out of a possible 78,000 voters, less than one third came out to vote. Around 26,000 voters have determined who our community leaders are for the next two to three years.
A friend and I became engaged in discussion the other night. Their wonderful (albeit a bit naive) desire, was to see world peace: a world in which all genres, all races, and all countries worked together to enhance each other. My somewhat skeptical reply was that world peace was an impossible dream. How can we expect to improve the world, without first improving our own neighbourhoods and our own communities?
We get bombarded every day with ads and commercials asking for our donations. They ask us to save children in Africa. They ask us to put schoolbooks in every classroom in South America. We should give food and clothing to the oppressed victims of fascist regimes in foreign lands, and we should help provide homes to millions of orphaned dogs and cats.
I can’t help but think that while these goals are noble and their ideals kind and true, they are merely a pipe dream. Trying to get thousands of people to rally together to help another community is a wonderful idea – but trying to get the same out to help ourselves seems to lead to a lacklustre response. So how can we hope to achieve world harmony and global peace and right all of the world’s wrongs when we can’t even seem to gather the troops in our own backyard?
by Chris Hibbard
Lonely Leonard learned a lesson last year, after lying to his lovely Lois led to Lois’ leaving.
Now, lucky Larry is living Leonard’s life, with Leonard’s lost lover Lois and a large litter of lightly leaping leprechauns; playing with long-worn Lincoln Logs at some little lakeside lodge.
Leonard’s lesser life lately is a life of loved and lost: luscious lasagnas eaten in a lowered limousine at red lights, long-lasting lunches at the local law library; lightly limping between lions to learn legalese for a larger lexicon. He leans on the library landing and feels like he’s lurching up a long, lifetime ladder.
Underneath his belated lists of loans and leases and law legislation, are love letters to Lois that remain un-licked. After a day of lessening legal liens with other lawyers and their ledgers, Leonard leaves work for a low-lit lounge. Leonard’s late nights including light lagers and long lines of Lambs’ with lemon, launching a new longing for Lois and their lives unled, their loves unloved.
Leonard’s only love life lately finds him looking like a lizard under lamps and lanterns, leering at large, loose, latin lesbians whose luscious lips and lackluster locks sway above lacy lingerie. Lusting for these ladies, with their loins and their lap-dancing legs, Leonard lets the ladies in his life loom, for they’ll let this poor, lonely loser linger as long as his leaking Loonies last.
by Chris Hibbard
I came across a box of teenage stuff a while ago, while visiting my old room at my parent’s place in Calgary.
Among the items inside the box were: mix tapes (numbered and named for personality’s sake), old photos that never got put in an album, a whole bunch of great stickers by bands I rarely listen to anymore, and several 3.25″ ‘floppy’ disks, containing some classic short stories I wrote while in high school creative writing classes and moments of creative epiphany, much like tonight.
I have just a vague flicker of memory however, about these stories themselves. I think there was one about an invisible boy and another about somehow making a deal with the devil. I wrote them sometime between 1995 and 1998, when I had longer hair and less inhibitions when it comes to making dreams a reality. There might be some poems inspired by old girlfriends, sappy and loving or heart-wrenching teenage angst. I never wrote these stories down in pen on paper, and never saved them into an email dropbox or tweeted them to myself somehow.
These stories were typed on an old version of .Word and then saved on small squares of plastic with a little flippy silver bit that covered some actual film or magnetic tape inside the disc itself. This disk would fit into a small slot on the front of every single computer that was out there. I had no concern about backing up my stories, for I had safely secured them on this 3.5″ disk, that could easily hold up to 1.4 MB of information!! At the time, I had no need for any more than 1.4 MB, as music downloading was in its infancy and Youtube was still several years away. Now we speak of terrabytes and gigabytes… leaps and bounds ahead of where we were.
So, two decades later and I come across these potentially amazing gems from my younger days. Thanks to modern technology racing forward with increasing momentum, I have no way to read them, nor play them. I have a CD/DVD reader/rewriter, and many ports for USB sticks/flash drives,\ etc. I can do almost anything with my computer, but I can no longer read a little grey disk that may contain some golden bits of forgotten inspiration.
It makes me feel nostalgic and weary and annoyed all at the same time. It makes me wonder how many other stories and little bits of writing I’ve scribbled or saved over the years, and might never even remember writing, simply because they were written in the floppy disk years, for those years are long gone. Now, in our modern age of social networking and high-tech competition, by the time I even get used to the I-phone version 5 or whatever the heck my gadget is, it might already be considered outdated and antiquated, replaced by some newer, smaller, faster, fancier version.
So, if all goes according to plan, I’ll manage to get my old tales off the 3.5″ floppies, read ‘em over and clean ‘em off; and maybe even edit ‘em a bit with author’s license. By the time you have read this, I will likely have already visited some kind of library or computer shop and proceeded to transfer said stories to a more convenient modern tool. If this is indeed the case, the stories will likely appear on this very site within the next several months. And then you’ll get a strange look inside my adolescent mind, for better or worse.
(This poem was inspired by my friend Nathan. He challenged me one night, after drinking several beers, to write a poem during the next 3-minute commercial break in the program we were watching on TV. He asked for it…. and he got it. The following poem was scribbled on a note pad over two commercial breaks, separating the Big Bang Theory and Jeopardy, if memory serves correct. It turns out to be quite nice, if rhymed correctly in the spoken word, coffee shop, finger snappin’ jazz kind of way.)
Double Dog Dare
by Chris Hibbard
Double down on these rhymes & those rhythms
With words of wisdom from this poetry pen
Alliterative alternatives to Saturday seasons
Bouncing and biting and slapping the shot
Turning to trivia in times of temptaion
Leaving the living to snowstorms and shovels
Taking the time to write this rhyme
While cruisin’ for bruisins but feeling’ just fine
As time stretches and skews and we’re all good to go
Doublin’ down on those rhymes and these rhythms
by Chris Hibbard
So I realize it’s been many months since I’ve updated this darn blog, and for that I apologize. Between battling keeping myself busy with work and writing and radio and other stuff, The Kitchen Sink blog just seems to get forgotten about. I never truly stop writing; and continue to write articles for local magazines, letters to local newspapers and press releases for certain worthy causes. But any former readers out there may be happy to know that I’ve decided (once again…for the third time this decade…) to re-dedicate myself to keeping this blog updated. In the near future I hope to post some new short stories, some new poems and a number of letters, essays, and other miscellany. Some of the things I’ve been working on lately include articles about:
- why naptime should be mandatory around the world
- how emotional/mental illness should be considered in the workplace
- other peoples trash blowing into my yard and getting stuck in my bushes
- the demise of cursive writing skills as standard protocol in schools today
- “Breaking Some Wind At The End Of The Universe”
- The Man With The Spiderman Underoos
- Schpeaking with Schlurs at the Schideschow
- Do blind people actually have other senses that are improved or heightened in some way?
- Is Chris Hibbard going to write something more substantial than this list any time soon?
- a local entrepreneur who has managed to shed nearly 300 pounds in just over a year (see story here: Desire, Discipline and Determination)
- a close encounter with one of Australia’s most dangerous arachnids (see story here: Close Encounters With the 8-Legged Kind)
- a recent tour of my city’s only whiskey distillery
- famous couples who actually manage to stay together forever
- my dislike for the 3D revolution
- some of my feelings about changes to women in the world today
- my grandfather’s involvement with the Juno Beach assault during World War II
- the funeral home industry, or as I see it, “This Business Of Death”
- the supposedly looming 2012 apocalypse
- our space in the universe – when seen from the macroscopic and microscopic perspectives
- how to deal with stress by changing our way of thinking
- the demise of Hostess Twinkies
- issues regarding putting warning labels on our dangerous products
- and more!
I’ll be in touch.
Christopher Eric Hibbard, Esquire
by Chris Hibbard
Thanks to an annual report from WordPress.com and a website called Clustrmaps, I can now post some statistics about this Kitchen Sink blog.
From October of 2012 through December of 2012, this site was visited 18, 603 times. Quite surprisingly, 10,000 of those views took place in 2012 alone.
Imagine this: 600 people reached the top of Mt. Everest in 2012. If every person who reached the top of Mt. Everest viewed this blog, it would have taken 17 years to get that many views.