American Chimpanzee

A Christmas Clinton by Jim Duchene mrjimduchene@gmail.com Hillary Clinton sat alone in her study contemplating the upcoming 2024 presidential election.       Biden had a successful four years, she thought, but surely he realized it was not in the best interest of the Democratic Party for him to run for a second term, and if he didn’t run that created an opportunity. The opportunity to run again. That would be good for her, but, more importantly, that would be good for America.      “God bless us every one,” she said out loud, liking the idea of it.      Oh, sure, by the look of things she might end up running against Trump again, but she liked the idea of that, too. Fate seemed to be offering her a second chance to prove what she had known all these years, that she had been cheated in 2016.      The doors to her study burst open and there stood a ghostly Bill Clinton, ...

as featured in Desert Exposure Magazine RaisingDad by Jim and Henry Duchene A Frisky Four "What was he thinking?"   ...one...     Back when I was a kid, my parents bought me a very expensive gift for Christmas. It must have cost them a pretty penny and, trust me, a pretty penny was a lot of money in those days. Ugly pennies, not so much. Being in the lower single digits age-wise, I played more with the box than the gift that came inside.      The following Christmas, not knowing they were talking about me, I overheard my father tell my mother, "Why not give him another box and buy something for ourselves instead?” ...two…   Somehow, my brother remembers those holidays like this: "Remember when Santa brought me a bike? It was an expensive, top of the line Schwinn and must have cost mom and dad a month's salary. All he left you was an air pump, two tire tubes, and a dollar. When you asked dad why, he  told you, 'If your brother g...

  RaisingDad by Jim and Henry Duchene Back To Four "Who would buy him?"   ...one...     Back when my beloved mother was still alive, she told me something scary that happened to her and my father when they were home alone.     Not scary in an “Abbott & Costello Meet Frankenstein" kind of way, even though it could have been. You see, the house I grew up in is supposed to be haunted. I say “supposed” because nothing frightening ever happened to me there, unless you count experiencing mysterious gas fumes every night emanating from my laughing brother's side of the bedroom we shared.      Anyway...      They were in the den watching TV. She was sitting on the couch and my father was in his favorite chair, when—all of a sudden—my father began to choke.      "Honey!" my mother screamed.      Panicking, she got up from the couch, picked up the remote, and...

RaisingDad by Jim and Henry Duchene Just Three "an inconvenient obligation" ...one... Not only is my wife beautiful, but she’s an excellent cook.      When I look into our refrigerator, I see nothing to eat. My wife, however, can look into anyone's refrigerator and come up with a feast. Her leftovers are better than a gourmet meal at the snootiest of restaurants. My father agrees with me, but he has a backhanded way of delivering compliments.      One weekend, I was laid low with a nasty cold, so my wife made me a hearty stew. There's no such thing as canned this or that or anything from a bag with my wife. She loves to cook and cooking from scratch is the only way she knows how. So she prepared the meat, chopped up the fresh, carefully chosen vegetables, and dropped them into her favorite stew pot along with her unique blend of spices and herbs that Colonel Sanders would be envious of. As the delectable concoction was simmering on the ...

as featured in Desert Exposure Magazine    RaisingDad by Jim and Henry Duchene Another Four Stories “let sleeping angels lie”   When my granddaughter was four-years-old we were driving back from a road trip and she was asleep in her car seat. She looked like an angel, her hair a delicate tangle of curls. She was perspiring the way children sometimes do when they slumber.  Suddenly, she startled awake. “Are you okay?” I asked her. She looked around, slow to take in her surroundings. “I dreamt my hair was on fire,” she finally told me. “Well, you’re safe now,” I assured her. After a few seconds I dipped a toe into the water. “You woke up pretty quick,” I said. She nodded. “You wake up fast when your hair’s on fire,” she told me. I guess you do. Now my granddaughter is eight, and she’s a pretty bright kid (she gets it from me). She’s back at school and was telling me they were teaching her about fire safety. She had learn...