I switched from a four slice toaster to a two slice toaster. This is my surrender to the idea of living alone. I like that my new appliance is smaller and shinier that my old one. There are more categories on this one, including one for bagels. I don't eat bagels anymore, but its nice to know if I were forced to consume one in an emergency, I have a toaster that can handle it.
The openings are wider so I can fit thick slices in. Pushing the level down is the same, but instead of pushing it back up, I have to press the cancel icon. This is Farberware high class appliance procedure. Old crumbs from the old toaster had to be scooped up. Some were from the Clinton presidency. The beauty of this model has led me to contemplate getting a blender. I know a woman who tosses everything into her blender and drinks entire meals. Saves on utensil usage.
I feel like having a tuna sandwich on toast. I have every confidence my new friend can handle this. At some point I know I will have to slip a frozen waffle in. One challenge at a time. Too much excitement for one single man.
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
Saturday, May 25, 2013
Taming My Tongue
It's difficult to tame my tongue when people drop French words into conversation and mispronounce them. Someone of my station expects a certain level of party discourse and if things fall short I am reduced to scanning the less than impressive decor in a home.
In my intellectual group settings I sometimes have to stifle myself, listening to the insipid, shallow, sinkhole ramblings of participants as they explain their bourgeois goals. I have to restrain myself from interjecting excerpts from my poetic, tense, dynamic, thought provoking, life changing flash fiction stories the masses are clamoring to read.
But I hold my tongue because I am disciplined. Shockingly, I live alone. A complete mystery. I have noticed a trend lately, one which finds me talking to myself. This is harmless at home, but uncomfortable in the urologist's office, where I whisper a chronicle of my last visit.
I notice my gracious hostess has run out of cookies at our morning writing group. I hold my tongue. We are across from a cemetery in the middle of nowhere, unable to run off to a convenience store for munchies. Two health nuts have failed to supply raisins and nuts. I am perturbed, but I tame my tongue. I will wait until I am alone with the hostess, whereupon I will launch into stinging castigation, painful and probing, which, coincidentally, best describes my last visit to the urologist.
In my intellectual group settings I sometimes have to stifle myself, listening to the insipid, shallow, sinkhole ramblings of participants as they explain their bourgeois goals. I have to restrain myself from interjecting excerpts from my poetic, tense, dynamic, thought provoking, life changing flash fiction stories the masses are clamoring to read.
But I hold my tongue because I am disciplined. Shockingly, I live alone. A complete mystery. I have noticed a trend lately, one which finds me talking to myself. This is harmless at home, but uncomfortable in the urologist's office, where I whisper a chronicle of my last visit.
I notice my gracious hostess has run out of cookies at our morning writing group. I hold my tongue. We are across from a cemetery in the middle of nowhere, unable to run off to a convenience store for munchies. Two health nuts have failed to supply raisins and nuts. I am perturbed, but I tame my tongue. I will wait until I am alone with the hostess, whereupon I will launch into stinging castigation, painful and probing, which, coincidentally, best describes my last visit to the urologist.
Letter to Mom in Prison
Dear Mom,
How are you? I hope you are being treated well. I know you must be feeling down. Two years is a long time. Maybe if you had apologized it would have been less. But you are who you are.
Using a machete on the salesgirl at A.C. Moore because they ran out of magenta was a moment of rage I'm sure you regret. I think the mistake was carrying that thing in the car. I know you're a serious artist and things sometimes get under your skin. Her arm has been reattached and she's moving on with her life. I suppose a civil suit is coming. People are touchy these days about assaults with dangerous weapons.
Thanks for sending the photo of the new tattoo on your back. Satan mounting one of the Kardashians is certainly provocative. I can't tell which one, but that's not important. I did find some of your drugs in an old jewelry box buried under the ash remains of Missy, our dear departed poodle. I was looking for something to hock in exchange for food money. I and your six other kids have been snacking on Skittles for days. Not enough protein there.
Dad sends his regards. He's been quite kind and supportive when he's home and conscious. By the way, this hand grenade I found in the shoe closet--is it the real thing or a replica? Might be good to know.
Take Care. Miss you, Your loving son.
How are you? I hope you are being treated well. I know you must be feeling down. Two years is a long time. Maybe if you had apologized it would have been less. But you are who you are.
Using a machete on the salesgirl at A.C. Moore because they ran out of magenta was a moment of rage I'm sure you regret. I think the mistake was carrying that thing in the car. I know you're a serious artist and things sometimes get under your skin. Her arm has been reattached and she's moving on with her life. I suppose a civil suit is coming. People are touchy these days about assaults with dangerous weapons.
Thanks for sending the photo of the new tattoo on your back. Satan mounting one of the Kardashians is certainly provocative. I can't tell which one, but that's not important. I did find some of your drugs in an old jewelry box buried under the ash remains of Missy, our dear departed poodle. I was looking for something to hock in exchange for food money. I and your six other kids have been snacking on Skittles for days. Not enough protein there.
Dad sends his regards. He's been quite kind and supportive when he's home and conscious. By the way, this hand grenade I found in the shoe closet--is it the real thing or a replica? Might be good to know.
Take Care. Miss you, Your loving son.
Friday, May 24, 2013
Ten Dollars
I found a folded $10 bill on the floor of a supermarket today. Instinctively I scooped it up and looked around. No one was in the vicinity.
Well.
I walked over to the food station where they serve breakfast, lunch and dinner. I had mixed feelings, having lost bills myself. Here it is, the beginning of Memorial Day holiday, and someone will be in a rotten mood when they discover their loss. I know I would.
I sat down and thought about it. I could give it to charity. There was no Salvation Army guy around. I could put it in the Dunkin Donuts tip jar. But I don't use their outlet very often here. This particular DD only does coffee, tea and donuts. No hash browns or meals. Not much effort involved.
So I bought myself breakfast at the food counter--one scrambled egg, toast and home fries. The coffee I was going to buy anyway, so that doesn't count. Now I'm worried about karma. Maybe the egg was bad and I'll have stomach problems the whole weekend.
I'm pretty sure if the phone rings it'll be bad news.
Now I sit here looking out at the cold rain, cancelling my plans. I just know I'm going to pay for this.
Well.
I walked over to the food station where they serve breakfast, lunch and dinner. I had mixed feelings, having lost bills myself. Here it is, the beginning of Memorial Day holiday, and someone will be in a rotten mood when they discover their loss. I know I would.
I sat down and thought about it. I could give it to charity. There was no Salvation Army guy around. I could put it in the Dunkin Donuts tip jar. But I don't use their outlet very often here. This particular DD only does coffee, tea and donuts. No hash browns or meals. Not much effort involved.
So I bought myself breakfast at the food counter--one scrambled egg, toast and home fries. The coffee I was going to buy anyway, so that doesn't count. Now I'm worried about karma. Maybe the egg was bad and I'll have stomach problems the whole weekend.
I'm pretty sure if the phone rings it'll be bad news.
Now I sit here looking out at the cold rain, cancelling my plans. I just know I'm going to pay for this.
Intense Softball Fathers
Intense softball fathers grimace and growl. They walk in circles, blurting obscenities after their daughter has struck out. Make fists, pound bleachers, glare at umpires. They look down at the ground sorrowfully, as though their business has failed.
Softball is very important in their family. Somewhere in the back of their minds they are convinced their child is scholarship material. Every victory translates into dollars saved. The truth is only softball pitchers get these free rides. They and very large young women who can crush the ball. These girls are not very big and drop popups, fumble ground balls and get thrown out on the bases. Whichever side has the most intense softball fathers usually wins. Softball mothers grit their teeth and moan. Some may shout encouragement. They have their hair done, wear stylish shorts and flip flops, look around to find another softball mom. This is their life now.
One would hope intense softball parents would not withhold food from their child if they lost. One would hope.
Softball is very important in their family. Somewhere in the back of their minds they are convinced their child is scholarship material. Every victory translates into dollars saved. The truth is only softball pitchers get these free rides. They and very large young women who can crush the ball. These girls are not very big and drop popups, fumble ground balls and get thrown out on the bases. Whichever side has the most intense softball fathers usually wins. Softball mothers grit their teeth and moan. Some may shout encouragement. They have their hair done, wear stylish shorts and flip flops, look around to find another softball mom. This is their life now.
One would hope intense softball parents would not withhold food from their child if they lost. One would hope.
Friday, May 17, 2013
Burger King Upgrade
Burger King upgraded my order tonight because I asked for a small coffee and they had to make it. After I waited ten minutes, the other counter girl asked if I was being helped. When I explained the delay, she apologized and gave me a medium coffee upgrade, followed by an upgrade from small fries to medium fries. Who was I to argue? Now I will fill out their survey and become eligible for a free chicken sandwich.
Perhaps the same strategy could be applied to relationships. If either one of the parties has to wait an extra few hours for sex, there could be an upgrade consisting of more sex than originally planned. Look, over 50% of marriages dissolve, while Burger King continues to make a profit. Who's onto something here?
They always give me more milk containers than I need and I return those I don't use rather than sell them on the black market. Now ketchup is another story. You don't return extra ketchup or mustard, not while there are shadowy figures willing to deal. These are the same people who tried to corner the market on Twinkies when it looked like they were endangered.
Sometime I will relate my new experience with Wendy's almond and berry salad. Have patience.
Perhaps the same strategy could be applied to relationships. If either one of the parties has to wait an extra few hours for sex, there could be an upgrade consisting of more sex than originally planned. Look, over 50% of marriages dissolve, while Burger King continues to make a profit. Who's onto something here?
They always give me more milk containers than I need and I return those I don't use rather than sell them on the black market. Now ketchup is another story. You don't return extra ketchup or mustard, not while there are shadowy figures willing to deal. These are the same people who tried to corner the market on Twinkies when it looked like they were endangered.
Sometime I will relate my new experience with Wendy's almond and berry salad. Have patience.
Thursday, May 16, 2013
The Wake
Sadly, people die. Wakes take place. Family and friends gather. The deceased lies there, oblivious. People check their messages. Some text. There are awkward introductions between long separated relatives.
Strangers arrive, those who knew the deceased, but had no connection to the family. Time passes. Kids get restless and chase each other in the lobby. Funeral parlor employees try to look professionally subdued. Snacks get eaten. Some go out to dinner and return. Others make it quick, in and out. I took a long walk.
The flowers and photos are perused. I don't want any of this stuff. Maybe a priest saying something nice about me. No open casket. No viewing. No fuss. Incinerate me, go on with your life.
My uncle led a terrific 96 plus year life; he did everything he wanted. Died in peace. Always chuckled at life's absurdities.
The guy was never bitter. Opinionated, but never bitter. Taught through his attitude. Now he's playing golf with Bing Crosby.
Strangers arrive, those who knew the deceased, but had no connection to the family. Time passes. Kids get restless and chase each other in the lobby. Funeral parlor employees try to look professionally subdued. Snacks get eaten. Some go out to dinner and return. Others make it quick, in and out. I took a long walk.
The flowers and photos are perused. I don't want any of this stuff. Maybe a priest saying something nice about me. No open casket. No viewing. No fuss. Incinerate me, go on with your life.
My uncle led a terrific 96 plus year life; he did everything he wanted. Died in peace. Always chuckled at life's absurdities.
The guy was never bitter. Opinionated, but never bitter. Taught through his attitude. Now he's playing golf with Bing Crosby.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Meandering Mind
I had professors who seemed to be talking to themselves. Now I do it. Without a PHD I'm considered odd. They are revered.
David Foster Wallace is considered a genius since his suicide. While he was alive, no one but really smart people even attempted to read him. I tried once in a book store, got dizzy and replaced the volume. Meanwhile, the Uni-bomber made more sense, but was deemed a nutcase.
It's always uncomfortable when a group realizes one of its members is not on the same wavelength as the rest. It may manifest itself in absurd blurted comments, long diatribes, inappropriate humor or threatening body language. Some of these people make it into Congress.
Commentators don't like to use the word sick. Now certain actions are described as bad judgment, bad choice, inexplicable behavior, uncharacteristic behavior, stress induced, and too much sugar in the bloodstream.
I wonder if deaf people ever meander in their communications. I'm sure other deaf people would know.
If critics and academics accept something or if it sells in the market place it can't be termed sick. However, if Abe Vigoda and Betty White had sex in a public space we'd all agree that was sick. Especially if they meandered during foreplay.
David Foster Wallace is considered a genius since his suicide. While he was alive, no one but really smart people even attempted to read him. I tried once in a book store, got dizzy and replaced the volume. Meanwhile, the Uni-bomber made more sense, but was deemed a nutcase.
It's always uncomfortable when a group realizes one of its members is not on the same wavelength as the rest. It may manifest itself in absurd blurted comments, long diatribes, inappropriate humor or threatening body language. Some of these people make it into Congress.
Commentators don't like to use the word sick. Now certain actions are described as bad judgment, bad choice, inexplicable behavior, uncharacteristic behavior, stress induced, and too much sugar in the bloodstream.
I wonder if deaf people ever meander in their communications. I'm sure other deaf people would know.
If critics and academics accept something or if it sells in the market place it can't be termed sick. However, if Abe Vigoda and Betty White had sex in a public space we'd all agree that was sick. Especially if they meandered during foreplay.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Big Data
What the hell is going on? What happened to selective statistics? Anecdotal evidence? Logical assumptions? Big Data leaves no room for imaginative speculation. It squashes debate under the weight of smothering stats, graphs, pie charts. Probability? No such thing anymore. Fuel your project with enough data and all risk vanishes.
If Darwin, Einstein, Freud and Jung has access to Big Data all they would do is click a few keys and bingo--a solution. If Genghis Khan and the Vikings consulted all that data before acting their warriors might have died of boredom. Rice a Roni would have six more flavors, The Pentagon could wage three wars at once. Big Data might have explained Lost before it went off the air. Maybe even the last episode of The Sopranos, though that may be asking too much.
Let them collect as much info on me as they want. Nothing will convince me to buy a BJ Warehouse membership. My napkins will always be white, along with my underwear. Compile all the data you want, I choose paper plates over Tupperware. Prod me with ads--prune juice will never cross my welcome mat.
Data depends on how you interpret it. And don't think Satan is ignorant of Big Data. His strategy evolves daily depending on what his software spits out.
Sherlock Holmes would puke at this turn of events. Big Data would analyze his vomit to determine his diet and work from there.
If Darwin, Einstein, Freud and Jung has access to Big Data all they would do is click a few keys and bingo--a solution. If Genghis Khan and the Vikings consulted all that data before acting their warriors might have died of boredom. Rice a Roni would have six more flavors, The Pentagon could wage three wars at once. Big Data might have explained Lost before it went off the air. Maybe even the last episode of The Sopranos, though that may be asking too much.
Let them collect as much info on me as they want. Nothing will convince me to buy a BJ Warehouse membership. My napkins will always be white, along with my underwear. Compile all the data you want, I choose paper plates over Tupperware. Prod me with ads--prune juice will never cross my welcome mat.
Data depends on how you interpret it. And don't think Satan is ignorant of Big Data. His strategy evolves daily depending on what his software spits out.
Sherlock Holmes would puke at this turn of events. Big Data would analyze his vomit to determine his diet and work from there.
Saturday, May 11, 2013
Leaving
I say goodbye to everything and everyone. Leaving without saying goodbye is unpardonable. I may have to sadly say goodbye to the Coney Island Mermaid Parade if they can't raise another $75000 to offset Sandy's damage. No better way to greet the summer than transvestite mermaids.
I bid farewell to bodily waste, pus, dandruff, hair, germs. They were once part of me and each had a purpose.
I am ambivalent about lint. I may just wave as I remove it and flick it away.
I have been saying goodbye to people for many years. I usually wait until they really start to annoy me. It's always face to face with plenty of eye contact. Sometimes breaking off a relationship is a step toward a healthy self image. I allow three ass wipe comments directed at me before I say good bye. For the record, I am only occasionally an ass wipe.
Now I have to say so long to some nail clippings. I believe I spot some of my old dandruff on you. Tell them I said hello.
I bid farewell to bodily waste, pus, dandruff, hair, germs. They were once part of me and each had a purpose.
I am ambivalent about lint. I may just wave as I remove it and flick it away.
I have been saying goodbye to people for many years. I usually wait until they really start to annoy me. It's always face to face with plenty of eye contact. Sometimes breaking off a relationship is a step toward a healthy self image. I allow three ass wipe comments directed at me before I say good bye. For the record, I am only occasionally an ass wipe.
Now I have to say so long to some nail clippings. I believe I spot some of my old dandruff on you. Tell them I said hello.
The Cloud in My Head
Why did I park here? Who is that woman in the back seat in tutu and ballet slippers? Did I kidnap a dancer? She snores like a wart hog. I remember the party and Adele mixed some stuff in her blender and we all had several glasses. Then I blacked out.
I never trusted Adele.
I remember hugging a lot of people and slow dancing with a woman in a corset. I believe Enya was playing in the back round. Everything was in slow motion. Someone flushed a toilet and it sounded like a waterfall. It smelled like a garden of cinnamon.
I have to wake this woman up and find out what dance company she belongs to. If it's American Ballet Company I might be able to stay out of jail. But if she's Russian I am in deep doo doo.
Whose vomit is this on the passenger seat?
I never trusted Adele.
I remember hugging a lot of people and slow dancing with a woman in a corset. I believe Enya was playing in the back round. Everything was in slow motion. Someone flushed a toilet and it sounded like a waterfall. It smelled like a garden of cinnamon.
I have to wake this woman up and find out what dance company she belongs to. If it's American Ballet Company I might be able to stay out of jail. But if she's Russian I am in deep doo doo.
Whose vomit is this on the passenger seat?
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Living at CVS
I want to live at my local CVS Pharmacy. It's open 24 hours and 365 days a year. It's brightly lit with many, many products I can explore at my leisure. There are snacks and cereal and canned gods, ice cream and soda.
Near the pharmacy section in the rear, there's a couple of chairs for people waiting for prescriptions. I can sit there reading books and magazines located on a rack nearby. The front end sales people are always pleasant. They could be my friends. The clerks and pharmacists are there for me to answer all my drug questions. If I have a panic attack I'm sure they will hug me and speak quietly until it's over.
If I get chest pains I can use the blood pressure machine nearby. Once in a while I would venture out to the next store and get coffee and a donut. I won't look at the newspaper headlines.
Scary things are happening in this world and I don't want contact with any of it, including crazed celebrities. The security fellow at the door does not inspire confidence unless he has a hidden stun gun.
So I will just sit here quietly and not make an impact or fuss. Possibly months might pass before they notice me. If they kick me out I'll scramble to the Burger King near the laundry. Not as friendly but they have cinnamon buns and CVS doesn't. If former child star gone wacko Amanda Bynes stumbles in, I'll head out the back door. She can't run fast with those sandals.
Near the pharmacy section in the rear, there's a couple of chairs for people waiting for prescriptions. I can sit there reading books and magazines located on a rack nearby. The front end sales people are always pleasant. They could be my friends. The clerks and pharmacists are there for me to answer all my drug questions. If I have a panic attack I'm sure they will hug me and speak quietly until it's over.
If I get chest pains I can use the blood pressure machine nearby. Once in a while I would venture out to the next store and get coffee and a donut. I won't look at the newspaper headlines.
Scary things are happening in this world and I don't want contact with any of it, including crazed celebrities. The security fellow at the door does not inspire confidence unless he has a hidden stun gun.
So I will just sit here quietly and not make an impact or fuss. Possibly months might pass before they notice me. If they kick me out I'll scramble to the Burger King near the laundry. Not as friendly but they have cinnamon buns and CVS doesn't. If former child star gone wacko Amanda Bynes stumbles in, I'll head out the back door. She can't run fast with those sandals.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
Bookcase
The bookcase behind my bed collapsed at 2AM. Luckily it slid sideways to the floor or I might have been crushed by high class literature. I had to get up and pile all the books on furniture and the floor quietly. Two days before, a shelf in my kitchen collapsed, throwing canned goods all over the floor.
I don't believe in ghosts. I might take notice of anything further that is strange. Noises, shadows, blinding light. I might be imagining this, but I think my microwave hums at night. Opening a dialogue with appliances is one way to go. Just to let them know I'm aware of their needs.
A large crucifix above the bookshelf was slightly askew after the collapse. I straightened it, feeling it may have interceded in saving me.
As far as the cabinet shelf, I just tossed out some expired cans of tomato soup and clam chowder that may have been in there since before the millennium. I resolve to buy stronger shelves and think about attending church more often. Why push my luck?
I don't believe in ghosts. I might take notice of anything further that is strange. Noises, shadows, blinding light. I might be imagining this, but I think my microwave hums at night. Opening a dialogue with appliances is one way to go. Just to let them know I'm aware of their needs.
A large crucifix above the bookshelf was slightly askew after the collapse. I straightened it, feeling it may have interceded in saving me.
As far as the cabinet shelf, I just tossed out some expired cans of tomato soup and clam chowder that may have been in there since before the millennium. I resolve to buy stronger shelves and think about attending church more often. Why push my luck?
Saturday, May 4, 2013
Trade Center Geometry
angles
perspective
corners
edges
lofty
points
ego
colossus
clear
blue
sky
forever
What is that sound?
perspective
corners
edges
lofty
points
ego
colossus
clear
blue
sky
forever
What is that sound?
The Roadkill APP
The Roadkill APP changed my life. I was distraught after employing the Abigail APP, which traced every woman with that name over a 50 mile radius. I followed up several times, only to have these ladies activate their stalker APP. I always thought I'd marry an Abigail and I was crushed.
My Roadkill APP is a map showing the location of recent roadkill over a 75 mile radius. Some are so recent their bodies steam in the night air. I hop in my car and drive miles to photograph them before highway workers scoop them up. I do this for our children, who may never see certain endangered species.
Some call this obsessive. Nonsense. Dodging between speeding vehicles on the NY Thruway to photograph a squashed muskrat is what I live for now. I notice more folks are tuned into this activity. I now find packs of photogs at roadkill events. It may be time to move on.
My Life Coach APP is intriguing. With so much unemployment, being a Life Coach is a sensible option. I thought of using one to give my life more direction. Interestingly, both APPS came together when, on a side road in Sussex County, a hiking Life Coach was run down by a tractor. Only one person was there to document it. I see possibilities in this area. At least until I can somehow locate a friendly Abigail.
My Roadkill APP is a map showing the location of recent roadkill over a 75 mile radius. Some are so recent their bodies steam in the night air. I hop in my car and drive miles to photograph them before highway workers scoop them up. I do this for our children, who may never see certain endangered species.
Some call this obsessive. Nonsense. Dodging between speeding vehicles on the NY Thruway to photograph a squashed muskrat is what I live for now. I notice more folks are tuned into this activity. I now find packs of photogs at roadkill events. It may be time to move on.
My Life Coach APP is intriguing. With so much unemployment, being a Life Coach is a sensible option. I thought of using one to give my life more direction. Interestingly, both APPS came together when, on a side road in Sussex County, a hiking Life Coach was run down by a tractor. Only one person was there to document it. I see possibilities in this area. At least until I can somehow locate a friendly Abigail.
My Zamboni
All my life I've been bullied. Women never respected me. I drove small cars timidly. I ceded the right of way. In the office, there were snarky remarks about my wardrobe, hair and cologne. One day I got so fed up I used a curse word and raised my voice.
This was not the life I wanted.
I went online looking for solutions. I needed a personality transplant, but of course that was impossible. Then I saw it on Amazon. Used Zamboni--$5500. Much cheaper than an SUV. I put in a bid and two days later there was a Zamboni in my driveway.
I had a mechanic add several gears. High above the traffic I sat, loud and intimidating. Go ahead, try to cut me off. I'm still getting the hang of the controls. Switching lanes is problematic, but there are no laws against this.
I'll tell you something else. Women are attracted to a man on a Zamboni. They beg me for rides. Now it's my turn to act aloof. I pray I recognize one of my tormentors on a bike or motorcycle. I'll claim it was an accident.
This was not the life I wanted.
I went online looking for solutions. I needed a personality transplant, but of course that was impossible. Then I saw it on Amazon. Used Zamboni--$5500. Much cheaper than an SUV. I put in a bid and two days later there was a Zamboni in my driveway.
I had a mechanic add several gears. High above the traffic I sat, loud and intimidating. Go ahead, try to cut me off. I'm still getting the hang of the controls. Switching lanes is problematic, but there are no laws against this.
I'll tell you something else. Women are attracted to a man on a Zamboni. They beg me for rides. Now it's my turn to act aloof. I pray I recognize one of my tormentors on a bike or motorcycle. I'll claim it was an accident.
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
Designing Women
They entered our town, six of them. Maybe they bussed in. Who knows? They strode right down our main drag, shaking their heads disdainfully. Breakfast was at The Salty Nut, right in the middle of town. They were watched closely by everyone, as we do with strangers.
All were in their twenties, pale white women in sweatsuits and ponytails. They rose as one, flashed badges--U.S. Department of Design Coordination. We had evidently been singled out for an upgrade. It seems our strapped government would be offering certain towns for sale to foreign countries in exchange for cash to pay down our debt.
We weren't crazy about this.
Sloppiness and blandness were to be eliminated and we had no say in anything. The women worked quickly as a team, rearranging furniture, changing the hair style of the waitresses, moving the owner Pappy's part from the left to the right side. All of us men had to wear bow ties during daylight hours. Up and down our streets, in and out of businesses and residential homes, they exerted their taste on us. Arguments were quickly waved off. They redressed children and the elderly, cleaned them right up.
They ordered painting, caulking, plastering, retouching, shining and sweeping, all day for an entire week, including Sunday. They finished up by shellacking church pews. An empty lot was converted into a bocci ball park in case the Italians were interested in buying us. And everyone was required to exfoliate once a week.
They left as suddenly as they arrived, possibly to a small town in Ohio.
That was six weeks ago. We wait uncertainly. I'm afraid to remove my bow tie. Even at night.
All were in their twenties, pale white women in sweatsuits and ponytails. They rose as one, flashed badges--U.S. Department of Design Coordination. We had evidently been singled out for an upgrade. It seems our strapped government would be offering certain towns for sale to foreign countries in exchange for cash to pay down our debt.
We weren't crazy about this.
Sloppiness and blandness were to be eliminated and we had no say in anything. The women worked quickly as a team, rearranging furniture, changing the hair style of the waitresses, moving the owner Pappy's part from the left to the right side. All of us men had to wear bow ties during daylight hours. Up and down our streets, in and out of businesses and residential homes, they exerted their taste on us. Arguments were quickly waved off. They redressed children and the elderly, cleaned them right up.
They ordered painting, caulking, plastering, retouching, shining and sweeping, all day for an entire week, including Sunday. They finished up by shellacking church pews. An empty lot was converted into a bocci ball park in case the Italians were interested in buying us. And everyone was required to exfoliate once a week.
They left as suddenly as they arrived, possibly to a small town in Ohio.
That was six weeks ago. We wait uncertainly. I'm afraid to remove my bow tie. Even at night.
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