Ron the Yarnspinner

Tonight, tonight, the plans I make, tomorrow, tomorrow, the story I create.  Though the tale will not win me fame still, Ronald Tragasz is my name.  No straw-like words made golden here nor little imp that I keep near to help me  write propitious prose of words that sing for glass beads or a ring.    

  Bad Luck in Disguise Two traveling angels, Raphael and Uriel,  knocked on the door of the home  of a wealthy couple and asked if they could stay the night. These well-to-so folks had a big house with several vacant bedrooms but refused the angels' request.  "But there's a storm coming......"  pleaded Uriel, the younger of two travelers.  “Alright, you can sleep in the  basement if you want tonight only,” came a reply. “Just  don’t think  we are going to give you anything to eat.” The basement  had a hard concrete floor, and it was drafty and unheated.  Searching for something to lie upon, the older Angel, Raphael, moved some crates and saw there was a large hole in one of the basement walls: he decided to repair it. Before lying down on the hard cold floor,  Uriel asked the Raphael, “Why did you do that? These people were not exactly hospitable.” His senior partner replied, “Things are not always what they appear to be ...

  In Tune With Life   H e never spoke of it as reinventing himself. He simply found another way to be useful and earn a living.     Pat stood at the door. My mild-mannered hunting dog (Rusty) barked incessantly on the other side. Pat offered Rusty a rawhide treat after he walked in and the two immediately became friends. “It’s amazing what a little food would do,” was Pat’s remark. Pat was an “old pro” when it came to visiting homes where man’s best friend was in residence and shedding his coat and hat, and dropping his backpack, he went to work. I have known Pat for at least a decade, and I consider him more a friend than a tradesman. Today he had time just to talk. Pat, self-employed, told me he had been in business for forty-eight years. In the early days, he might have made six or even seven stops a day, but the work could be tiring so his average now is three per day. “Have you met any famous people” I asked. “Oh yes, many, ” came Pat’s reply.”  Do you have...

  Rock-ola  Rock-ola – a   brand name, but kids tossed it around like slang and “Shake, Rattle and Roll” (Bill Haley & His Comets, 1954)   was the sound of the rowdy, wicked “juke joint” spirit that gave the machine its name.   If you watched Happy Days (1974–1984), you probably remember the jukebox at Arnold’s Drive-In. It was more than a prop—it was part of the show’s DNA. And of course, who could forget Fonzie (Henry Winkler) giving it a good smack to make the music start instantly? The gag became a running trademark, cementing the jukebox as a symbol of effortless cool.  But in real life, no jukebox owner would dare treat one of these electro-mechanical marvels so roughly. Vintage machines—especially the chrome-and-glass beauties of the 1940s and ’50s—demand care, parts are scarce, and skilled repairmen even scarcer. They weren’t just music machines; they were finely tuned cultural icons, glowing testaments to an era when music was a shared, c...