...And I Approve This Message
by
Book Cover & Preview Text
“I died a few minutes ago and I am not
surprised...”
CHAPTER 1
I died a few minutes ago and I am not surprised....not surprised that I got drunk again, not surprised that I just drove my car into a tree (while arguing with my wife again on my cell phone). And I’m not surprised that I seem to be able to get all this down on paper. But wait, I guess I should be. I can’t be typing myself, I’m dead. It looks like being dead has at least one advantage. As I think, the words are being recorded. I’m not sure where or how they are being recorded, but I can tell that they are. In any case, I wish someone had told me how dangerous it can be to drive with a cell phone stuck in your ear… instead of your butt.
The last thing I remember, before I put myself in oblivion, is that I told the cute young lady tending bar that when I come back in my second life I was going to be a bottle opener. As I told her that I didn’t know of course how stupid that statement was... or was to become. Why did I say such an odd thing to the young good-looking woman?
The bar I’m talking about is a tiki bar, part of the restaurant and bar of a popular marina club in the Tampa Bay area. And yes, I know, there are many tiki bars in the Tampa Bay area. But I find that since I am dead I don’t really give a damn, so it really doesn’t matter which tiki bar it is. As a matter of fact, I don’t seem to give a damn for anything anymore; only that bright light above my head, the soft organ music and something that sounds like a ticker tape machine I hear in the background interests me... but let me get back to why I wanted to be a bottle opener. The young lady bartender is really cute and usually wears really short shorts. I’ve seen her slide a bottle opener out of her back pocket at least five hundred times, open a beer bottle with it and slide the opener back in her back pocket. This particular type of opener is a piece of flat stainless steel with a hole punched in each end and both holes have wiggly curves that grip the bottle caps. The young lady did/does also .has/had wiggly curves. sliding back and forth in her very attractive back pocket. The handle looked out of the pocket a little bit... an inch or two. A tease. The total effect fascinated me so much that I wanted to be a bottle opener... and keep rubbing her cute little Po (German for ass and with a capital “P”) as she scurries around the bar. In a case such as this, I always substitute “Po” for “ass”... it just sounds better to say “I kissed her Po” than “I kissed her...”. In short, the following quote I found in a veteran’s newspaper in a VA Hospital was always my motto until the day I died: “Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming “Wow, what a ride!” And I added to that, “... did the girls get here yet?”
The words in the PREAMBLE have no clear meaning to me. That is a huge problem in America today... and it is a growing problem.…most people in America today don’t even understand the meaning of those words. The politicians and the media that supports and encourages the politicians should be reminded that the large majority of Americans don’t have a clue as to what their kind of English means. Add the total of native English speaking people, the also large majority of “not so good” English speaking people, (also a very large number), gives an overwhelming number of people that do not know what the hell is going on. (See the media words in the PREAMBLE again) Just before I died I had made up my mind to try to reach the young people in junior high and senior high schools. It’s their lives that are going to suffer the most by the decisions that are being made today by the very wealthy and/or by the very popular. In most cases the “wealthy” and the “very popular” are one and the same. This narration in death (very sadly mine) is intended to point out the various pitfalls only the young folks can look out for, identify, locate and fix. They can then work on their parents, older friends, older brothers and sisters to contact their local councilmen and women to start looking for new young candidates for political offices, starting of course with the closer local positions.
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About the Book
Having just told a cute female bartender that he wanted to come back in his second life as a bottle opener, so he can slide around in her back pocket, this narrator leaves her bar and smashes his car into a tree. He does indeed wake up as a bottle opener and finds himself hanging on a string tied to a hook in the ceiling of a The opener, realizing that he is now “a dead man”, loses any fear of speaking what is on his mind. Since no one can hear him anyway, he immediately begins ranting about the starving children in America, politics, lawyers, lobbyists, the media, cell phones and many other pet peeves he’s harbored through out his life. Oddly, he can see and hear and constantly hears organ music and some type of ticker tape machine, or maybe a typewriter in the back ground. The bottle opener is moved to various bars around America and the world. Before long he realizes that he is following the path of his real life and begins to worry. Please don’t start reading at the end of the book…. live a little of a bottle opener’s life first
About the Author
Wolf is really "Wolfe". The "e" was dropped since there seems to be a very large number of Wolfes writing these days. This Wolf doesn't want to contaminate the other Wolfes.
Wolf (Bob) started moving around once he left
Between the work in N.J. and the meeting of the third wife in
Wolf’s stories and books are "adult" reading but absolutely not sexually graphic. Wolf refuses to write sexual detail, assuming that every adult knows all those words anyway, he concentrates rather on treating situations with humor.