Why can't I find men's sweaters? Have men stopped wearing the zipper or button up styles? Do not talk to me about pullovers. I have shoulder problems and avoid pulling anything over my head. I'm looking for a brown, tan or dark yellow zip up sweater which will match my various outfits in those colors.
I have blue sweaters up the kazoo, purchased with my postal uniform allowance. I still keep them and wear them with the official patch. It sems to get me more respect.
Old Navy had just what I wanted, but a size too small. Forget Target. Not a single men's sweater of any type. TMaxx wasn't much better. K-Mart has disappeared. I'm desperate enough to try Walmart. Kohls might be a possibility with a discount card I got in the mail.
What can I say? I look good in sweaters. The market should be accommodating guys like me. I also wish my legs were longer. Try finding a decent pants with 29 length. If I go 30 I have to create cuffs which never stay up. The bottom gets worn out and ragged.
Perry Como and Bob Newhart wore great sweaters. Bill Cosby's sweaters were all pullovers. Come to think of it, I never saw Cary Grant wearing a sweater. I guarantee if he shopped Targets and complained, they'd lay out tables full of sweaters faster than you could say Sinatra, who favored ORANGE button ups, but who am I to judge?
Friday, November 30, 2012
Thursday, November 29, 2012
One of Those
I don't want to become one of those old people. You know, the ones who walk into a place of business and cause the young counter people to whisper, oooh, he's got something hanging from his chin. Who starts up one aisle, reverses direction for no apparent reason, who can't remember what parking lot he left his car, let alone what space. Whose nieces and nephews avoid him at family functions, who sprains his back putting out the garbage, who cannot slide his car into a space on the first try, whose socks don't match, whose best friend is his dog.
Who trims his own hair with frightening results, who leaves a dollar tip, who goes power walking with sissy one pound weights, who talks really loud on public transportation, who feels he can say anything inappropriate because he is old, who tries to flirt with women who are just doing their job, who takes too damn long walking up or down stairs, who incites giggling among teens for any number of reasons.
I want to be like Cary Grant or Gregory Peck, who never had noodles with gravy hanging from their chins or lips. I want respectful looks and for people to sit up straight when I walk into a room.
I just hope it's the right room.
Who trims his own hair with frightening results, who leaves a dollar tip, who goes power walking with sissy one pound weights, who talks really loud on public transportation, who feels he can say anything inappropriate because he is old, who tries to flirt with women who are just doing their job, who takes too damn long walking up or down stairs, who incites giggling among teens for any number of reasons.
I want to be like Cary Grant or Gregory Peck, who never had noodles with gravy hanging from their chins or lips. I want respectful looks and for people to sit up straight when I walk into a room.
I just hope it's the right room.
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
10 Reasons to Brave a Snowstorm
1 Old Navy has a 40% off sale
2 Hot coffee at McDonalds
3 Sledding is Ageless
4 Free movie at the library
5 Observe those who have to work
6 Replenish snowball supply
7 Must find a newspaper
8 Huddle with others, pretend you're under seige
9 Cool air opens sinuses
10 Women admire hearty men
2 Hot coffee at McDonalds
3 Sledding is Ageless
4 Free movie at the library
5 Observe those who have to work
6 Replenish snowball supply
7 Must find a newspaper
8 Huddle with others, pretend you're under seige
9 Cool air opens sinuses
10 Women admire hearty men
Monday, November 26, 2012
Thanksgiving Strangers
I spent Thanksgiving with my sister in law's family, mostly Irish who speak quite loud. I sat at the head of the table and for a moment wondered if we should say grace. That passed and for the next two hours we ate heartily and discussed the storm.
I made none of this food and felt somewhat guilty. But I made up for it by inserting witty remarks at regular intervals. Football, of course, dominated the TV. I settled in the most comfortable chair and had a perfectly civil conversation with someone's aunt.
A part of me wanted to leave early and line up at one of the early bird stores. Maybe I could get a great deal on smoke alarms or something. Perhaps I could make new friends. Including Thanksgiving and door busters in the same sentence seems sacrilegious.
Now I will have to buy wreaths for the graves. I will use a coupon at AC Moore. Maybe I will seek out a small tree at the 99 cent store. I know half my fridge will be leftovers and a good part of my upcoming conversation will also be fragments from Thanksgiving, except without the constant chewing.
I sure hope olives last a long time because I've got an army of them.
I made none of this food and felt somewhat guilty. But I made up for it by inserting witty remarks at regular intervals. Football, of course, dominated the TV. I settled in the most comfortable chair and had a perfectly civil conversation with someone's aunt.
A part of me wanted to leave early and line up at one of the early bird stores. Maybe I could get a great deal on smoke alarms or something. Perhaps I could make new friends. Including Thanksgiving and door busters in the same sentence seems sacrilegious.
Now I will have to buy wreaths for the graves. I will use a coupon at AC Moore. Maybe I will seek out a small tree at the 99 cent store. I know half my fridge will be leftovers and a good part of my upcoming conversation will also be fragments from Thanksgiving, except without the constant chewing.
I sure hope olives last a long time because I've got an army of them.
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Blinking Phone
My Samsung cell has been blinking at me for weeks. The entire keyboard flashing, with a combination of numbers and letters on the screen that bears no resemblance to anything. Am I being contacted by aliens? I called AT&T and was told someone else made this complaint. So there is one other person in the world experiencing this phenomenon. We may well be the chosen ones.
They promised to send me a free replacement, a much more expensive phone. That was a month ago. Then Sandy hit and mail was delayed. I made a followup call and was told they would try to speed up the process. So far, no phone.
Sometimes my old one will actually work for a day, teasing me. The aliens are displaying complete control over my communications.What do they want from me? Did they actually intercept my call and pretend to be phone representatives? Should I visit an outlet store in Hoboken and have them look at the strange occurrence with my Samsung? What if the entire corporation has been taken over by aliens in human form and are toying with me? I wish I knew the identity of the other person inflicted with this phone madness. And what is the meaning of that message flashing across the top? I wish Stanley Kubrick were alive.
They promised to send me a free replacement, a much more expensive phone. That was a month ago. Then Sandy hit and mail was delayed. I made a followup call and was told they would try to speed up the process. So far, no phone.
Sometimes my old one will actually work for a day, teasing me. The aliens are displaying complete control over my communications.What do they want from me? Did they actually intercept my call and pretend to be phone representatives? Should I visit an outlet store in Hoboken and have them look at the strange occurrence with my Samsung? What if the entire corporation has been taken over by aliens in human form and are toying with me? I wish I knew the identity of the other person inflicted with this phone madness. And what is the meaning of that message flashing across the top? I wish Stanley Kubrick were alive.
Saturday, November 24, 2012
The Coconut Kid
I was turned on to coconut spread on toast and there is no reason to leave the house anymore. Plus, I have a bag of coconut flakes which I will sprinkle on my cereal. I was shown a book about the miracle of coconut. It can heal, sooth, calm inflammation, give me younger skin and stronger hair. Can it get me a date with Carly Kloss?
I was also told about Tumeris, a spice that also combats inflammation, which can cause lots of health problems by itself. But I went to three stores and they were out. People have been secretly hoarding this spice in my opinion. I don't just want good health. I want to outlive all my readers.
The point is you have to pay attention when those who know about nutrition wish to share that knowledge. Especially if they look better than you. Whole Foods is quite fascinating. The average educational level of its customers is Masters Degree. Everyone is extremely polite and serious. These are people who are quietly changing the world with their food choices and they know it. Nevertheless, peanut butter is about $2 less at Walmart. And you can grab a Subway sandwich after shopping there.
Hey, I only have a BA.
I was also told about Tumeris, a spice that also combats inflammation, which can cause lots of health problems by itself. But I went to three stores and they were out. People have been secretly hoarding this spice in my opinion. I don't just want good health. I want to outlive all my readers.
The point is you have to pay attention when those who know about nutrition wish to share that knowledge. Especially if they look better than you. Whole Foods is quite fascinating. The average educational level of its customers is Masters Degree. Everyone is extremely polite and serious. These are people who are quietly changing the world with their food choices and they know it. Nevertheless, peanut butter is about $2 less at Walmart. And you can grab a Subway sandwich after shopping there.
Hey, I only have a BA.
Friday, November 23, 2012
Black Friday
Well Black Friday wasn't all that crazy. I hit Radio Shack for memory cards, AC Moore for art supplies and a bookcase, Modells for a gift fleece vest. I was basically in and out because I'm a guy who knows what he wants.
I know what balloons I will photograph at the Macy's parade and which I will ignore for aesthetic reasons.
The only hesitation I experienced through this holiday was at the Expendable Relative Wholesale Warehouse in Secaucus. I entered knowing I have a small family, but not certain who I would add, if anyone. Last year I found no one there terribly interesting on any level. A few were downright unattractive.
But this year it was a whole different story. Evidently a lot of families downsized over the year and the result was a succulent choice of f aux relatives. I left with a second cousin, two first cousins, an aunt, a nephew and a son in law. Could hardly fit them all in the car. But at least I'll be surrounded by actual people this Christmas instead of those cheap inflatable relatives made in Hong Kong. Hopefully one of them can cook. Now I have to find those extra air mattresses I picked up at a Labor Day sale at Targets. If this works out I may even get them cots.
I know what balloons I will photograph at the Macy's parade and which I will ignore for aesthetic reasons.
The only hesitation I experienced through this holiday was at the Expendable Relative Wholesale Warehouse in Secaucus. I entered knowing I have a small family, but not certain who I would add, if anyone. Last year I found no one there terribly interesting on any level. A few were downright unattractive.
But this year it was a whole different story. Evidently a lot of families downsized over the year and the result was a succulent choice of f aux relatives. I left with a second cousin, two first cousins, an aunt, a nephew and a son in law. Could hardly fit them all in the car. But at least I'll be surrounded by actual people this Christmas instead of those cheap inflatable relatives made in Hong Kong. Hopefully one of them can cook. Now I have to find those extra air mattresses I picked up at a Labor Day sale at Targets. If this works out I may even get them cots.
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Kate Moss
Kate Moss moved upstairs from me. This was unexpected. I happened to see her pulling into my parking space. I decided to avoid a confrontation and parked a block away.
She's not a very big woman, but has a heavy footstep. I can hear her pacing back and forth all day. Nights, she is always out. Sometimes she looks really extraordinary and sometimes she looks like a slob. She never empties her mailbox. I have to do it for her. The hall smells of cigarette smoke.
She's polite, using that gap tooth smile to charm. Her kid is brought over almost every day, but I think she lives elsewhere. She doesn't ever bring men home. I was thinking of asking her out. There's an age difference and she has way more money than me. But I have a college degree and write short stories. She doesn't.
One time she asked if I had any crackers. I gave her a whole box of Saltines. In retrospect I should have only given her some. I'm not going to see those crackers again.
I wonder what she's doing in New Jersey. She saw me in my undershirt today and kind of gave me the eye. Good thing I sucked in my stomach. I noticed she does get food caught in that tooth gap. Peppers and cole slaw, licorice especially.
She's not a very big woman, but has a heavy footstep. I can hear her pacing back and forth all day. Nights, she is always out. Sometimes she looks really extraordinary and sometimes she looks like a slob. She never empties her mailbox. I have to do it for her. The hall smells of cigarette smoke.
She's polite, using that gap tooth smile to charm. Her kid is brought over almost every day, but I think she lives elsewhere. She doesn't ever bring men home. I was thinking of asking her out. There's an age difference and she has way more money than me. But I have a college degree and write short stories. She doesn't.
One time she asked if I had any crackers. I gave her a whole box of Saltines. In retrospect I should have only given her some. I'm not going to see those crackers again.
I wonder what she's doing in New Jersey. She saw me in my undershirt today and kind of gave me the eye. Good thing I sucked in my stomach. I noticed she does get food caught in that tooth gap. Peppers and cole slaw, licorice especially.
Monday, November 19, 2012
Bosses
Sometimes I consider returning to work part time to supplement my pension. Then something happens to snap me back to reality.
I was in a supermarket yesterday reading the paper, sipping coffee along with others. Suddenly, to my right, I heard tense talk. The manager was reaming out a worker loudly enough so that all could hear. Evidently, the stock clerk had gotten coffee while he was supposed to be working. The boss leaned in and charged him with getting coffee 'on my time' instead of on his break. 'Yes or no' he kept repeating like a vicious prosecutor. The guy hesitated, stumbled around, embarrassed, trying to avoid escalating this conflict. "This is the way you want to go with this?" he repeated. Eventually the boss told him to punch out and go home. I'm guessing he's going to be written up and the union will get involved.
I am very familiar with this form of public humiliation, having worked 30 years for the Post Office. Supervisors relished embarrassing workers on the floor over minor in fractions. The sensible thing would be to take the employee in the office and discuss things privately, adult to adult. The clerk, like everyone, knew he was lucky to have a job in this economy. Here he was, working on a Sunday at a dead end job for low pay and because he grabbed a cup of coffee he gets sent home. Wonderful.
No, I have no desire to work for someone like that. Ironically, the boss resembled Dr. Phil, a Dr. Phil with no understanding of human dignity.
I was in a supermarket yesterday reading the paper, sipping coffee along with others. Suddenly, to my right, I heard tense talk. The manager was reaming out a worker loudly enough so that all could hear. Evidently, the stock clerk had gotten coffee while he was supposed to be working. The boss leaned in and charged him with getting coffee 'on my time' instead of on his break. 'Yes or no' he kept repeating like a vicious prosecutor. The guy hesitated, stumbled around, embarrassed, trying to avoid escalating this conflict. "This is the way you want to go with this?" he repeated. Eventually the boss told him to punch out and go home. I'm guessing he's going to be written up and the union will get involved.
I am very familiar with this form of public humiliation, having worked 30 years for the Post Office. Supervisors relished embarrassing workers on the floor over minor in fractions. The sensible thing would be to take the employee in the office and discuss things privately, adult to adult. The clerk, like everyone, knew he was lucky to have a job in this economy. Here he was, working on a Sunday at a dead end job for low pay and because he grabbed a cup of coffee he gets sent home. Wonderful.
No, I have no desire to work for someone like that. Ironically, the boss resembled Dr. Phil, a Dr. Phil with no understanding of human dignity.
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Suburban Stranger
She moves up and down our blocks, stately, elegant, dressed in black. Quite beautiful.
Roz and I decided to lock our husbands in the garage when she's around. We know she must live around here. Her perfume could kill a commando. Leaves whirl around her, squirrels flee.
She is a Suburban Witch, looking to take our spouse. An evil Succubus feeding on happy marriages. Roz wants to throw a net over her and dump her in the bay. I won't get that close. One time she met my eyes and it was like white hot ingots searing into my face. Gypsies fear this woman.
One day she will insinuate herself into a domestic situation and ingratiate herself with the kids. In an eye blink the poor wife will be tossed to the gutter or worse.
No, this one will never join a PTA bake sale. The most dangerous woman in suburbia.
Roz and I decided to lock our husbands in the garage when she's around. We know she must live around here. Her perfume could kill a commando. Leaves whirl around her, squirrels flee.
She is a Suburban Witch, looking to take our spouse. An evil Succubus feeding on happy marriages. Roz wants to throw a net over her and dump her in the bay. I won't get that close. One time she met my eyes and it was like white hot ingots searing into my face. Gypsies fear this woman.
One day she will insinuate herself into a domestic situation and ingratiate herself with the kids. In an eye blink the poor wife will be tossed to the gutter or worse.
No, this one will never join a PTA bake sale. The most dangerous woman in suburbia.
Returning Your Call
Hello? Yes, God, it's me returning your call. I was out bowling. You should know that. You're All-Seeing. Let's not quarrel. I'm here now. What? No way. I did not scoop out Holy Water into a cup and use it in my Netti Pot. Don't listen to Father Shaw. He hates my tongue. Every time he slips the Communion wafer in my mouth he flinches. The man has issues.
Okay, you got me on skipping three Rosary beads and maybe shortening a Novena or two. I'm a busy guy working two jobs. Plus we had that hurricane. I need a new mattress among other things. Of course you don't use a mattress or pillows or bath mats. You never sleep. You must have been dozing when you created Wilmington, Delaware.
I'm not being snippy. How do you keep getting my new number? A Divine Mystery? Your usual explanation. Well, explain why my Breath Right nasal strip keeps peeling off at night.
Do me a favor. Put one of the saints on. St. Agnes. Someone I can communicate with.
For once.
Okay, you got me on skipping three Rosary beads and maybe shortening a Novena or two. I'm a busy guy working two jobs. Plus we had that hurricane. I need a new mattress among other things. Of course you don't use a mattress or pillows or bath mats. You never sleep. You must have been dozing when you created Wilmington, Delaware.
I'm not being snippy. How do you keep getting my new number? A Divine Mystery? Your usual explanation. Well, explain why my Breath Right nasal strip keeps peeling off at night.
Do me a favor. Put one of the saints on. St. Agnes. Someone I can communicate with.
For once.
Slice It Thin
Marty, the Word Butcher, had a tattoo of Dmitri Pushkin on his forearm. His apron was stained with rotting similes.
What's good this week big guy, I asked.
Five haikus for a buck, he shot back. I shook my head. Got a year's worth of those. Got any sonnets? Last time you didn't trim the fat and I rambled at an open mike. He looked offended. I sell lean prose, fella. No fat.
Well, this is poetry and flabby syntax doesn't get it.
I got a bad shipment, Lenny. But if you're looking for tasty anecdotes...
Are they fresh?
In my freezer as we speak. I shrugged. Anecdotes are so 1988. Gimme a dozen limericks, no topping, preferably English. Hold the punctuation. And slice them thin. This is a sensitive group with delicate pallets.
Lenny, you're trying to be Bukowski and I told you they can't digest that stuff before 10PM.
I grabbed my limericks wrapped in wax paper and left the place, muttering eat my vowels. The problem with audiences today is they never chew slowly and savor the images. Thinking about my latest poem, my mouth started to water. What to wash it down with? Something Irish.
What's good this week big guy, I asked.
Five haikus for a buck, he shot back. I shook my head. Got a year's worth of those. Got any sonnets? Last time you didn't trim the fat and I rambled at an open mike. He looked offended. I sell lean prose, fella. No fat.
Well, this is poetry and flabby syntax doesn't get it.
I got a bad shipment, Lenny. But if you're looking for tasty anecdotes...
Are they fresh?
In my freezer as we speak. I shrugged. Anecdotes are so 1988. Gimme a dozen limericks, no topping, preferably English. Hold the punctuation. And slice them thin. This is a sensitive group with delicate pallets.
Lenny, you're trying to be Bukowski and I told you they can't digest that stuff before 10PM.
I grabbed my limericks wrapped in wax paper and left the place, muttering eat my vowels. The problem with audiences today is they never chew slowly and savor the images. Thinking about my latest poem, my mouth started to water. What to wash it down with? Something Irish.
Friday, November 16, 2012
Downward Slide
Today a middle aged woman in the library left her post at the coffee bar (the libraries I frequent have coffee bars), walked over and helped me put on my coat. I was having trouble getting one arm in the sleeve. I have shoulder pain on both sides and have to be very careful extending my arms. I thanked her and she smiled and returned to her spot, feeling good about herself.
Outside I started to panic. Suppose she wasn't there and my arm stayed stuck in a bent position halfway inside the sleeve. Who's to say if anyone else would have stepped forward and assisted me? I might have staggered outside, all bent sideways, moving awkwardly, unable to remove my cars keys, open the door or start the car. How would I steer? The police station is adjacent to the library, but how would I reach up and press the buzzer? Would cops be sympathetic?
I was this close to being in a helpless situation. Is this my future? If I try to scratch my back will my shoulder freeze, leaving me with one arm trapped behind me? What if I have to rub something? Will there be a time when I can't don socks or shoes? I have no hair to comb, thankfully. Still, a wedgie demands quick action and if I have two frozen shoulders, who would yank my underwear from my butt crack? If you were truly a friend you'd have your hand up.
I hate getting old.
Outside I started to panic. Suppose she wasn't there and my arm stayed stuck in a bent position halfway inside the sleeve. Who's to say if anyone else would have stepped forward and assisted me? I might have staggered outside, all bent sideways, moving awkwardly, unable to remove my cars keys, open the door or start the car. How would I steer? The police station is adjacent to the library, but how would I reach up and press the buzzer? Would cops be sympathetic?
I was this close to being in a helpless situation. Is this my future? If I try to scratch my back will my shoulder freeze, leaving me with one arm trapped behind me? What if I have to rub something? Will there be a time when I can't don socks or shoes? I have no hair to comb, thankfully. Still, a wedgie demands quick action and if I have two frozen shoulders, who would yank my underwear from my butt crack? If you were truly a friend you'd have your hand up.
I hate getting old.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Nerve Test
On November 29 I will be getting my semi annual nerve test for the feet. Being a diabetic, these things are needed to monitor how much sensitivity I'm losing in the extremities. A man has five extremities, four of which are visible. All are, sadly, vulnerable to this rotten disease.
The man who administers my big nerve test is personable enough. My issue is with the test itself. He hooks up this prong device to a monitor and places the tip at various point along the ankle and foot and calf and unleashes a shock that jerks your foot slightly. My least favorite is when he puts it behind the knee. The test takes about 12 minutes. I cringe all the way through.
My foot doctor has a coffee machine and cookies. That is what I concentrate on during this torture.
There is also a small nerve test, which is just a little pinprick and that is basically painless. That man is older, bald, and more blue collar. I can talk sports with him while he goes through the procedure. I tell him when I feel something.
My foot doctor hates Obamacare. Maybe I should too, considering how much will be cut from Medicare. Meanwhile we're spending 8 gazillion dollars to fight wars in countries that don't want us in there.
104 million people voted. Where did it get us?
The man who administers my big nerve test is personable enough. My issue is with the test itself. He hooks up this prong device to a monitor and places the tip at various point along the ankle and foot and calf and unleashes a shock that jerks your foot slightly. My least favorite is when he puts it behind the knee. The test takes about 12 minutes. I cringe all the way through.
My foot doctor has a coffee machine and cookies. That is what I concentrate on during this torture.
There is also a small nerve test, which is just a little pinprick and that is basically painless. That man is older, bald, and more blue collar. I can talk sports with him while he goes through the procedure. I tell him when I feel something.
My foot doctor hates Obamacare. Maybe I should too, considering how much will be cut from Medicare. Meanwhile we're spending 8 gazillion dollars to fight wars in countries that don't want us in there.
104 million people voted. Where did it get us?
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Medicare Surprises
I am slowly learning about Medicare, which I will switch to next spring. If you attend a Medicare lecture you will see many troubled, confused faces. Just keeping track of what Medicare does and doesn't cover is challenging. It doesn't cover routine foot care. 90% of what my podiatrist does is routine. Because I'm diabetic, does that mean nothing he does is routine and I'm covered?
Medicare does not cover medical expenses caused by an auto accident. I called my agent at Cigna and she assured me if I kept that as my secondary insurance they would cover anything Medicare didn't. But she didn't sound sure. Not that I'm planning to get into an accident.
I'm on a lot of prescription drugs, which will be covered until I reach the donut hole, in which case I will have to pay 100% until I move out of said hole and into open air again. Obama is supposed to reduce that hole, but will Obamacare wind up costing me more?
How much of my next colonoscopy will Medicare cover? Suppose the doctor gets halfway in and a buzzer goes off signifying my coverage has just ended? Does he pull out and shut everything down?
Does Medicare cover panic attacks because I feel one coming on.
Medicare does not cover medical expenses caused by an auto accident. I called my agent at Cigna and she assured me if I kept that as my secondary insurance they would cover anything Medicare didn't. But she didn't sound sure. Not that I'm planning to get into an accident.
I'm on a lot of prescription drugs, which will be covered until I reach the donut hole, in which case I will have to pay 100% until I move out of said hole and into open air again. Obama is supposed to reduce that hole, but will Obamacare wind up costing me more?
How much of my next colonoscopy will Medicare cover? Suppose the doctor gets halfway in and a buzzer goes off signifying my coverage has just ended? Does he pull out and shut everything down?
Does Medicare cover panic attacks because I feel one coming on.
Monday, November 12, 2012
Rude
There are some people I really don't care enough about that if they do not respond to a message I shrug it off. But others I do want to maintain a connection and if they blow me off for no reason, that is the height of rudeness. It's worse than making a snippy remark. No response means you are completely irrelevant. No one wants to be interchangeable.
One person who performed many of my monologues and skits and with whom I had a good relationship suddenly decided to cut me off. Three messages sent, none returned. It's been over a year since we spoke. I never paid her a cent for performing my work. Instead, I commissioned a beautiful watercolor portrait of her. She never acknowledged my act, never responded to my request to drop it off. I had no hint she would behave like this. I could send a nasty email telling her to grow up and get over herself. But that would only make me feel worse.
So her portrait hangs on my wall, smiling down at me. And every day my bafflement grows. You never really know another person.
One person who performed many of my monologues and skits and with whom I had a good relationship suddenly decided to cut me off. Three messages sent, none returned. It's been over a year since we spoke. I never paid her a cent for performing my work. Instead, I commissioned a beautiful watercolor portrait of her. She never acknowledged my act, never responded to my request to drop it off. I had no hint she would behave like this. I could send a nasty email telling her to grow up and get over herself. But that would only make me feel worse.
So her portrait hangs on my wall, smiling down at me. And every day my bafflement grows. You never really know another person.
Jump the Line
A beautiful woman carrying an empty gas can is kind of sexy, especially if she looks sad. I ran into one while stretching out in he park, a babe near tears. Naturally I stepped in with comforting words, gently leading her out of the park to a line of similar souls holding their cans near a station.. The line moved slowly and we related our life stories. I was a mime and she was a ventriloquist. Work was slow during and after the hurricane. We were bonding however, when a car tried to cut in the vehicle line. I jumped into action, getting the plate number, while others kicked and pounded on the vehicle.
I looked inside and was stunned to see my grandmother behind the wheel. I fought back instinct to protect her and let the others continue to pound away until the window rolled down and several shots rang out scattering the crowd. It slipped my mind that granny never left the house without a weapon. Cheryl, the woman I met, was hiding behind a tree and ducked as Granny drove off in a huff. She evidently thought seniors got priority.
Many were shook up, no one hurt, except we lost our place in line and Cheryl started crying. So I told her to go home, I'd take her place holding the gas can and after getting the precious fuel, I'd call her & meet for coffee. In this way I got her number, except later her huge brother Lenny showed instead for the gas, thanking me as he handed over a twenty. Keep the change, he said.
Damn you, granny.
I looked inside and was stunned to see my grandmother behind the wheel. I fought back instinct to protect her and let the others continue to pound away until the window rolled down and several shots rang out scattering the crowd. It slipped my mind that granny never left the house without a weapon. Cheryl, the woman I met, was hiding behind a tree and ducked as Granny drove off in a huff. She evidently thought seniors got priority.
Many were shook up, no one hurt, except we lost our place in line and Cheryl started crying. So I told her to go home, I'd take her place holding the gas can and after getting the precious fuel, I'd call her & meet for coffee. In this way I got her number, except later her huge brother Lenny showed instead for the gas, thanking me as he handed over a twenty. Keep the change, he said.
Damn you, granny.
Lobsters Can't Plan Ahead
One minute you're crawling along minding your own business
The next thing you know you're soaking in boiling water, legs cut off and no fingers to dial 911.
I came across a lobster spread sheet yesterday lying in the street and it was sad. The entire month of December was filled with activities. I never knew there was a lobster karaoke night. This was a vibrant crustacean named Warren with unlimited potential. To end up as a main course for affluent diners at an upscale establishment is a sin against nature.
Maybe they remove frog's legs, but at least they can still get around with prosthesis. And it's done so fast I doubt they feel anything. But to be a proud creature with threatening pincers reduced to impotency is crushing to say the least. Warren's circle, assuming lobsters have circles, must have been equally upset.
I want say chin up to every lobster out there, but am not sure lobsters have chins.
The next thing you know you're soaking in boiling water, legs cut off and no fingers to dial 911.
I came across a lobster spread sheet yesterday lying in the street and it was sad. The entire month of December was filled with activities. I never knew there was a lobster karaoke night. This was a vibrant crustacean named Warren with unlimited potential. To end up as a main course for affluent diners at an upscale establishment is a sin against nature.
Maybe they remove frog's legs, but at least they can still get around with prosthesis. And it's done so fast I doubt they feel anything. But to be a proud creature with threatening pincers reduced to impotency is crushing to say the least. Warren's circle, assuming lobsters have circles, must have been equally upset.
I want say chin up to every lobster out there, but am not sure lobsters have chins.
Sunday, November 11, 2012
Do Not Refreeze
Unless I use my ideas quickly they spoil. My freezer is already full of unproven theories, so I can't store them there. Once you remove intellectual material from your freezer you must thaw it out and immediately do something constructive. Do not refreeze. I tried that once with a frozen rant. Once it thawed out I felt I only had the energy to recite part of it. I stuck it back in the freezer and three days later when I went to remove it, it had shrunk into a smelly haiku.
I've left damp hyperbole out on the window sill to dry, went out jogging and when I returned, discovered only stale crumbs of sentence fragments. I keep all my punctuation in the top cabinet where it is cool and dry. One time I left a sealed box of metaphors under the sink and a leak in the pipe left me with mold and mildew covering my powerful work. Editors far and near were heartbroken went I informed them.
My theater pieces I keep in the stove next to my frying pan. Sometimes they get greasy, but that only adds to their poignancy I think. The one time I put them in the vegetable bin next to a head of broccoli, a week later I found nothing but curled, blank pages. My words, fearing the unknown, which was the broccoli, had scattered all over my place, in the wardrobe, under tables, beneath my quilt, in the dishwasher.
Since I don't own many shoes, I use my shoe rack to stock my short stories. I keep my stream of consciousness ramblings close, even sleeping with them.
My witty asides are in my knife drawer as you might expect. They are quite sharp and often draw emotional blood. Aimless musings are lined up in my storage space above the towels, waiting for the next yard sale.
You know, I seem to remember you purchased a dozen or so for $5. Hey, if you pay for it, it's not plagiarism.
I've left damp hyperbole out on the window sill to dry, went out jogging and when I returned, discovered only stale crumbs of sentence fragments. I keep all my punctuation in the top cabinet where it is cool and dry. One time I left a sealed box of metaphors under the sink and a leak in the pipe left me with mold and mildew covering my powerful work. Editors far and near were heartbroken went I informed them.
My theater pieces I keep in the stove next to my frying pan. Sometimes they get greasy, but that only adds to their poignancy I think. The one time I put them in the vegetable bin next to a head of broccoli, a week later I found nothing but curled, blank pages. My words, fearing the unknown, which was the broccoli, had scattered all over my place, in the wardrobe, under tables, beneath my quilt, in the dishwasher.
Since I don't own many shoes, I use my shoe rack to stock my short stories. I keep my stream of consciousness ramblings close, even sleeping with them.
My witty asides are in my knife drawer as you might expect. They are quite sharp and often draw emotional blood. Aimless musings are lined up in my storage space above the towels, waiting for the next yard sale.
You know, I seem to remember you purchased a dozen or so for $5. Hey, if you pay for it, it's not plagiarism.
Friday, November 9, 2012
Should I?
Friday Night
Should I stay home and watch the Knicks?
Should I attend a dance performance which I won't understand?
Should I check out a jazz concert at a nearby church?
Should I stay home and begin reading Nostromo?
Should I hit the CVS and get prescriptions filled?
Should I do my power walking in the dark?
Should I e-mail all those I've lost track of?
Should I take a shower?
Should I start a painting?
Should I hang out somewhere sipping coffee and looking forlorn?
Should I stay home and find online porn?
Should I go to a movie not staring Will Ferrell?
Should I begin a short short story?
Should I write down all the witty remarks I'll use tomorrow?
Should I do 50 pushups and situps?
Should I just stay on Facebook for three hours?
Should I gloat over pounding out another blog that said essentially nothing?
Should I stay home and watch the Knicks?
Should I attend a dance performance which I won't understand?
Should I check out a jazz concert at a nearby church?
Should I stay home and begin reading Nostromo?
Should I hit the CVS and get prescriptions filled?
Should I do my power walking in the dark?
Should I e-mail all those I've lost track of?
Should I take a shower?
Should I start a painting?
Should I hang out somewhere sipping coffee and looking forlorn?
Should I stay home and find online porn?
Should I go to a movie not staring Will Ferrell?
Should I begin a short short story?
Should I write down all the witty remarks I'll use tomorrow?
Should I do 50 pushups and situps?
Should I just stay on Facebook for three hours?
Should I gloat over pounding out another blog that said essentially nothing?
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
This Morning
Attacking the day, knowing bad weather was coming, I managed to accomplish exactly what I wanted to do.
Hit the Post Office, mailed bills. Stopped at Dunkin Donuts, ordered breakfast, got free donut for filling out survey. Read papers quietly. Three quarters of a tank gas. Did 55 minute power walk around park.
Went to library, downloaded two e-books for review. At 11:40 looked outside, saw flurries. Got right in my car, made it home by noon. Put car in garage.
Finished reading papers, plus 100 pages in my Nook while watching The Fifth Element, featuring delicious Milla Jovovich, Bruce Willis & one of Gary Oldman's stranger roles.
Confirmed my doctor visit tomorrow, checked e-mail, posted on Facebook, took periodic pees, had lunch, ready to tackle Joseph Conrad's Nostramo. Feed the brain during storms.
Did not browse any porn sites.
But the day is not over.
Hit the Post Office, mailed bills. Stopped at Dunkin Donuts, ordered breakfast, got free donut for filling out survey. Read papers quietly. Three quarters of a tank gas. Did 55 minute power walk around park.
Went to library, downloaded two e-books for review. At 11:40 looked outside, saw flurries. Got right in my car, made it home by noon. Put car in garage.
Finished reading papers, plus 100 pages in my Nook while watching The Fifth Element, featuring delicious Milla Jovovich, Bruce Willis & one of Gary Oldman's stranger roles.
Confirmed my doctor visit tomorrow, checked e-mail, posted on Facebook, took periodic pees, had lunch, ready to tackle Joseph Conrad's Nostramo. Feed the brain during storms.
Did not browse any porn sites.
But the day is not over.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Young Voters
I am uplifted by all the young people urging me to vote. Their belief in the system is inspiring. I respect their enthusiasm. We need people like this to ensure our future.
But ringing my bell, tricking me to come to the door, and then force-ably dragging me to a voting location, right into the booth and threatening to play Elvis Costello music outside my window unless I pulled a few levers is completely over the line.
I am going to risk stating that ultimately it makes little difference who gets elected. The people who own Bed, Bath and Beyond run things. Businesses. Shareholders. Sophisticated crooks and scam artists. That's who decides our fate.
The middle class has been dying a slow death since Clinton.
I feel like Chris Christie is sitting on my chest.
But ringing my bell, tricking me to come to the door, and then force-ably dragging me to a voting location, right into the booth and threatening to play Elvis Costello music outside my window unless I pulled a few levers is completely over the line.
I am going to risk stating that ultimately it makes little difference who gets elected. The people who own Bed, Bath and Beyond run things. Businesses. Shareholders. Sophisticated crooks and scam artists. That's who decides our fate.
The middle class has been dying a slow death since Clinton.
I feel like Chris Christie is sitting on my chest.
Sunday, November 4, 2012
Strange Week
Beyond all the destruction and shortages, this has been a strange week. With the exception of stopping by my foot doctor to change my appt. and spending a few minutes talking to his assistant, it was a full week since I had a face to face conversation with someone.
I went to the Ethical Culture Sunday meeting and after an hour address about loss and grief, I stayed and had coffee, spotting an acquaintance, showing her my new book, Plowed In-More Switchblade Stories. She called over another writer, we exchanged notes and he asked to buy the first book, which was a pleasant surprise.
E-mails and phone conversations do not take the place of being with someone and seeing facial expressions.
I will try to get gas tomorrow. I did find a Pathmark with Sunday papers. The rest of the mall was shut down. Even the Pathmark only had power by the registers. I missed my papers.
I took an hour walk in the almost empty county park, had lunch at Burger King and now I'm home watching Giants football. Daylight Savings Time means it's already getting dark, but at least I have heat. Don't know if my luck will hold out when another possible storm hits mid week. Found mail in my box. Sunday delivery? Strange week.
I went to the Ethical Culture Sunday meeting and after an hour address about loss and grief, I stayed and had coffee, spotting an acquaintance, showing her my new book, Plowed In-More Switchblade Stories. She called over another writer, we exchanged notes and he asked to buy the first book, which was a pleasant surprise.
E-mails and phone conversations do not take the place of being with someone and seeing facial expressions.
I will try to get gas tomorrow. I did find a Pathmark with Sunday papers. The rest of the mall was shut down. Even the Pathmark only had power by the registers. I missed my papers.
I took an hour walk in the almost empty county park, had lunch at Burger King and now I'm home watching Giants football. Daylight Savings Time means it's already getting dark, but at least I have heat. Don't know if my luck will hold out when another possible storm hits mid week. Found mail in my box. Sunday delivery? Strange week.
Friday, November 2, 2012
Gas Shortage Pondering
Once again I had a craving for a cheese sandwich. Once again I slapped several slices on bread and once again took a big bite. Once again I had to spit it out. Who decided putting paper squares between slices was a good idea?
Who decides when to paint center lines on busy streets? Who determined all pustules are bad? Why are there no elegant stuffed animals? Why don't some people recognize they can't tell a joke?
What is more off putting than an untreated open cut? Why is all the important stuff on the top shelf? Are boutiques ever crowded? What is this impulse to join any line? Why am I lonely eating by myself at Subway, but not at Burger King?
How often should we update our nick knacks? Shouldn't there be some sort of signal at the mid-point of long speeches? Doesn't it seem like preambles are more interesting than what comes after?
How long can broccoli last in the wild?
These are the kind of questions that occur during a gas shortage and you're stuck home.
Who decides when to paint center lines on busy streets? Who determined all pustules are bad? Why are there no elegant stuffed animals? Why don't some people recognize they can't tell a joke?
What is more off putting than an untreated open cut? Why is all the important stuff on the top shelf? Are boutiques ever crowded? What is this impulse to join any line? Why am I lonely eating by myself at Subway, but not at Burger King?
How often should we update our nick knacks? Shouldn't there be some sort of signal at the mid-point of long speeches? Doesn't it seem like preambles are more interesting than what comes after?
How long can broccoli last in the wild?
These are the kind of questions that occur during a gas shortage and you're stuck home.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Sprawled Giants
They lay like giant slain dinosaurs. Trees uprooted is not adequate. Huge trunks, splayed branches so enormous kids climb across their breath, barely balancing themselves as we took pictures.
Circular and oblong ripped patches of grass and dirt clinging to the bottom of each trunk, naked roots exposed, gaping mouths of shocked soil.
Tree after tree in this section of Braddock Park in North Bergen under grey guardian clouds with not a breeze to play court jester. These were dignified pillars.
Some remained barely touched. Why? Violence is fickle, cruel, impatient, unpredictable.
Pond ducks glide nonchalantly, perhaps bemused, more likely, indifferent. Some spit at the sky, as to say, What else ya got?
Hudson County ducks.
Circular and oblong ripped patches of grass and dirt clinging to the bottom of each trunk, naked roots exposed, gaping mouths of shocked soil.
Tree after tree in this section of Braddock Park in North Bergen under grey guardian clouds with not a breeze to play court jester. These were dignified pillars.
Some remained barely touched. Why? Violence is fickle, cruel, impatient, unpredictable.
Pond ducks glide nonchalantly, perhaps bemused, more likely, indifferent. Some spit at the sky, as to say, What else ya got?
Hudson County ducks.
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