- March 08
- All works here are, unless otherwise noted, original works written by Steve Kenny.
MY RECENT POSTS
November 17, 2013 11:44AM
- Christ, Marx, Wood and Wei Led
Us To This Perfect Day
November 15, 2013 08:17AM
- Sunday Morning Coming Down
October 06, 2013 12:44PM
- Selective Memory Or Total
Recall: You Decide; A Test
September 25, 2013 07:04AM
September 23, 2013 09:35PM
MY RECENT COMMENTS
- “wow. no pretend stuff
here; this is beyond
December 17, 2013 07:41AM
- “why stop at word usage?
why not we take a closer look
picture usage? are
December 15, 2013 09:36AM
- “oh, the 1% might go,
too, but not before blaming
poor, for causing
December 14, 2013 08:26AM
December 11, 2013 07:51AM
- “thank you, Rita and Poor
December 05, 2013 08:36PM
Steve Kenny's Links
- New list
There are small holes in my carpenter's jeans, and a few stains, as well as some paint spatters. Same with my t-shirts. Seems work clothes are my favorite clothes to wear. Yet, my clothes are clean. All our clothes are clean: twenty two dollars worth of clean at the laundromat. Seven… Read full post »
what's in your heart?...maybe a first kiss. maybe a lost love. maybe a broken dream. maybe all of the above. maybe your love for your mother. maybe your love for your dad. maybe all the love your heart has ever had. maybe dreams. maybe hopes. maybe happiness. maybe love. maybe memories,… Read full post »
Sunday morning came down to us with no promises.At signs of first daylight the sky dropped and the rain and thunder tumbled out, wrapped in gray, and with the wind, swept over the empty yards before us before coming to rest, exhausted, to seep, slow and alive, under the many… Read full post »
Tonight is Monopoly Night. No Texas Hold 'Em; no Pinnochle; no Rummy.
The board had either turned a beautiful warm yellow naturally, due to the acid in the paper, or had been artificially made to look that way. Either way, it had become beautiful in a way it… Read full post »
I'd sometimes watch the Game on TV, down at neighborhood tavern. It was a small place, and was close to The Arena, so close, in fact, that sometimes we could hear the roaring going on on the inside: the engines, the people, the Damage being done; the Cranes, the Dice, the… Read full post »
If life is like a sound, or a heartbeat in the mind, then habits, especially old ones, are like strings that run, from tuning key to bridge.
And so it is that this has become the way I now look back.
Once in tune and out of tune at the same time,… Read full post »
"I've been to jail," the kid says to me.
"You've been to jail? For what?"
"I got caught with a bag of weed."
"How'd you get caught with a bag of weed?" I ask. The kid smiled shyly.
"We were smokin' some pot and drinkin' some beer, and some of the… Read full post »
I used to think of Open Salon as one big Classroom.
Over time, however, I have come to view OS as one big Neighborhood, where everybody owns a piece of land, with a house and a yard.
Everyone sits on their porch, writes their pieces, and sends them off in the… Read full post »
Hi. My name is Steve Kenny, and this was my store.
Before I became a contributor here at Open Salon, before I lost it all, I was a highly rated floor installer, carpetbinder, and custom area rug maker.
This building… Read full post »
It is my belief that the Ratings System, and Ratings Wealth [Ratings Income, or Distribution of Wealth, if you will] here at Open Salon mirrors that of the American Economy.
The Real "Job Creators" here at Open Salon are not The Highest Rated; the real "Job Creators" are those who… Read full post »
We can use a nice Weapons Grade Irritable Bowel Satelite Missile Defense System right now.
Nothing fancy or expensive; this colon cannon will be easy. Just a few nuts and bolts, along with chunks of last week's meatloaf, a few pounds of military grade riboflavin, some GMO's, a few gallons… Read full post »
This morning I realized something, for the first time. Waking up hungover, and not feeling very good about myself, a few comments I made last night, while drunk, sank in, specifically, 2 comments, one thrown at James Emmerling [ "Ask not for whom the Bell tolls; it tolls for you" should… Read full post »
They read our e-mails, our texts, our Facebook Page. They listen in to our phone conversations. They sort us by age, weight, height, sex, ethnicity, religious affiliations or lack thereof. They judge us by whether we can dance, cook, sing, lose weight, be interesting, and whether or not we… Read full post »
Somebody gasps at a last-minute utterance and sucks in air, involuntarily.
If you feel that it's real
I'm on trial
And I'm here in your prison
Like a coin
in your mint
I am dented
and I'm spent with high treason
Through a glass eye your throne
Is the… Read full post »
First of all, we, my family, has never allowed themselves to be too distracted by perfection.
We do not put the same value upon perfection that some do.
We are, and have always been, more into what's real; what's achieveable, imperfect as that sounds. And, as time has gone… Read full post »
You may ask yourself:
Who takes care of my grandmother, whom I am too "busy" to visit?
You may ask yourself:
Who cares for the dying whom otherwise would die alone?
You may ask yourself:
Who stomachs the shallow? Who visits on weekends?
Who caresses the excruciated, who… Read full post »
All quotes in 12-point regular font in Times New Roman are from an article in the Saturday, May 18, 2013 edition of Salon.com. titled "We're living in an Ayn Rand economy" by Paul Bucheit
All words in [italics]12-point New Times Roman are from the Roger Waters' song "Money", which is,… Read full post »
By the time she arrived, I'd had more experience with babies than most my age: my parents had four more kids after I was born, all girls, so I grew up holding babies, changing diapers, sterilizing glass bottles in hot water, warming milk on the stove, testing the warmth of milk… Read full post »
Feel free to Comment here all you like...
Nothing else to say, except [Jack Nicholson smiling and winking, all at the same time]:
"Why can't we all just...get along?"
Orwell was getting old, that was true, yet his work was undoubtedly among the best anyone had ever seen, Illumine or not. He adjusted his chair for comfort and reset his glasses on his nose, then pulled the light in a little closer to resume the work, and watched the steady… Read full post »
His father was a white man. His mother's name was Harriet Bailey, his mother's parent's names were Isaac and Betsey Bailey. His mother was taken away from him before the age of one. He never knew his mother as 'mother', and yet, she came to him, always at night, always on… Read full post »
In the comments above, I said:
"An "American Horror Story' Indeed. All/… Read full post »
This is an original work, written by Steve Kenny and posted at Open Salon.
-Lifespan Of A Royalty Check-
Okay. First, you need to know the facts. The first fact you need to know is that a kid, a real person, killed himself a few years ago by jumping off… Read full post »
One of the things I am most grateful for, probably more grateful for than anything else now, at my age, are memories. The truly wonderful gift of a memory is the way a moment can be seen from a third perspective, and when I think back to that particular moment in time,… Read full post »