...look me in my eyes with the blank stare/ why don't you know/ why don't you know what to do....
"Shit!"
What's wrong, honey?
"I have no fucking clue what's wrong! It just won't work!"
He's trying to fix the sink in the bathroom. I'm in the kitchen. I dig around in a drawer, find a chopstick.
I carry it to the bathroom, hold it out to him.
"What's this?" He takes it.
It's a clue stick.
Fluffy, helping, chimes in: "That's not- that's a chopst-"
Shut UP. Work with me, here.
(Rob Allen; Clueless)
20 August, 2011
14 August, 2011
Sleep, Interrupted.
...whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do when they come for you....
I've stayed up too late chatting on the internet with a friend I've never met. She has wonderful words of advice about something that's been troubling me for several months, so I don't begrudge the lost sleep. I gather a few things I'll need in the morning then tuck myself in for a few hours… at least, that was the plan. In less than an hour, the dogs wake me, barking furiously. I listen, and hear a knocking at my front door. This used to not be an unusual occurrence when RJ was living nearby, but he has moved away. Who is knocking? I hurry downstairs and peek under the curtain. There are two uniformed people, one of whom bears passing resemblance to the girl who used to care for my babies, back when I had babies. I open the door. It's the police.
Why are the police at my house?
"We received a 911 call from this residence."
What? A 911 call? From MY house?
"It was a 911 hang-up."
Ah, okay. Which the police are obligated to investigate. The cruiser is parked diagonally across my street, which I mentally note is a Bad Idea, considering the speed at which drivers regularly take my hill. It's 3 AM. Why are the police at my house at 3 AM?
No, I didn't make a 911 call. I was sleeping. The kids are also sleeping.
"Do you have any housemates, someone renting a room?"
Nobody. What the hell? Also, my land-line doesn't work particularly well, and mostly provides me with internet access, which is also spotty. Not only DID no one make a 911 call from my house, I doubt anyone COULD make a 911 call from my house.
"Well, it was just a mistake, then. Sorry to have woken you."
But whose mistake? How?
I go back to bed, but I do not sleep, not for quite a while.
(Bob Marley; Bad Boys)
I've stayed up too late chatting on the internet with a friend I've never met. She has wonderful words of advice about something that's been troubling me for several months, so I don't begrudge the lost sleep. I gather a few things I'll need in the morning then tuck myself in for a few hours… at least, that was the plan. In less than an hour, the dogs wake me, barking furiously. I listen, and hear a knocking at my front door. This used to not be an unusual occurrence when RJ was living nearby, but he has moved away. Who is knocking? I hurry downstairs and peek under the curtain. There are two uniformed people, one of whom bears passing resemblance to the girl who used to care for my babies, back when I had babies. I open the door. It's the police.
Why are the police at my house?
"We received a 911 call from this residence."
What? A 911 call? From MY house?
"It was a 911 hang-up."
Ah, okay. Which the police are obligated to investigate. The cruiser is parked diagonally across my street, which I mentally note is a Bad Idea, considering the speed at which drivers regularly take my hill. It's 3 AM. Why are the police at my house at 3 AM?
No, I didn't make a 911 call. I was sleeping. The kids are also sleeping.
"Do you have any housemates, someone renting a room?"
Nobody. What the hell? Also, my land-line doesn't work particularly well, and mostly provides me with internet access, which is also spotty. Not only DID no one make a 911 call from my house, I doubt anyone COULD make a 911 call from my house.
"Well, it was just a mistake, then. Sorry to have woken you."
But whose mistake? How?
I go back to bed, but I do not sleep, not for quite a while.
(Bob Marley; Bad Boys)
04 August, 2011
Summer, Suddenly
...then it happened/ it took me by surprise/ I knew that you felt it too/ by the look in your eyes....
It wasn't that the car was pulled up to the kerb, blocking foot and cart traffic as shoppers exited the market.
It wasn't that the windows were wide open while the stereo emitted incomprehensible bleating voices and the rhythmic backbeat of what I believe is called R & B.
It wasn't that the car sagged on the occupied driver's side presumably with the not-inconsiderable weight of the driver.
I could've ignored any one of those.
Taken together, though, and coupled with the fact that the driver was leaning forward towards the vanity mirror, actually plucking the hairs from her chin with a pair of tweezers, aroused a sudden, overwhelming horror of Life As I Know It and reduced me to a walking mass of revulsion against Mankind.
Sometimes these things happen rather suddenly.
(The Drifters; This Magic Moment)
It wasn't that the car was pulled up to the kerb, blocking foot and cart traffic as shoppers exited the market.
It wasn't that the windows were wide open while the stereo emitted incomprehensible bleating voices and the rhythmic backbeat of what I believe is called R & B.
It wasn't that the car sagged on the occupied driver's side presumably with the not-inconsiderable weight of the driver.
I could've ignored any one of those.
Taken together, though, and coupled with the fact that the driver was leaning forward towards the vanity mirror, actually plucking the hairs from her chin with a pair of tweezers, aroused a sudden, overwhelming horror of Life As I Know It and reduced me to a walking mass of revulsion against Mankind.
Sometimes these things happen rather suddenly.
(The Drifters; This Magic Moment)
03 August, 2011
Scratch, kiss.
...carries a postcard/ won't the big city be nice/ that's the place with the action/ she's gonna have her a slice....
Between the storm and dawn, I dream of you.
In the morning, I open windows to admit the sound of rattling rain.
Last night, knowing I'd been with another, he ignored me and refused to speak.
This morning, he is huggy kissy again; despite his polydactlism, he is unable to open the food container for himself.
Evidently, he has forgiven me for scratching someone's itch and having a little pussy on the side.
Still, he gives me a filthy look over his shoulder, and twitches his tail as he walks away.
(Adam Ant; Puss'N Boots)
Between the storm and dawn, I dream of you.
In the morning, I open windows to admit the sound of rattling rain.
Last night, knowing I'd been with another, he ignored me and refused to speak.
This morning, he is huggy kissy again; despite his polydactlism, he is unable to open the food container for himself.
Evidently, he has forgiven me for scratching someone's itch and having a little pussy on the side.
Still, he gives me a filthy look over his shoulder, and twitches his tail as he walks away.
(Adam Ant; Puss'N Boots)
31 July, 2011
Backwards Music
...everyone's a ball of clay / we sculpt each other into shapes / desperately trying to make / the one who fits our empty space / it's temporary and manmade / like little shots of Novacaine....
I have a new crush. This should not be a surprise.
Short story: quirky musicians.
But you want the long story, right?
That's what I thought.
We leave the bar, so exhausted and elated that the Crime Scene tape across the next block fails to do more than arouse momentary bemusement. I re-learn the clutch on the Subaru.
Rewind:
Channing and Quinn are delightful, friendly, chatty and interested in us, as well as charming. YoungEv and I debate adjectives.
"Cute," he decides.
"Adorable," I argue.
"No, they ARE cute," he says. I wave impatiently, with both hands.
"BEYOND cute," I say.
"Oh," he says, "you're raising my...?"
"Right, I see your cute and I raise you an adorable."
"Gotcha."
Fuzzy ignores us and continues sketching.
Rewind:
My concern that I won't recognize Acacia Sears out of context is unfounded. I can't describe her, but I always recognize her. She's grown so lovely, and rocks so hard, I am in awe.
Rewind:
The family has gathered at Joe Squared for reputedly fabulous pizza, drinks and music. YoungEv will join us in a while. When the pizza arrives, we enjoy it, but are slightly disappointed, as the kids and I have very recently been impressed by pizza at Iggie's, which quite honestly I liked better.
Rewind:
It's Wednesday, and Ellen Cherry is playing live at The Electric Maid in Tacoma Park. Wednesday is beside me, worried that this concert will be crowded or boring or both. She makes me find a different parking space, as she thinks the one I've chosen is sketchy and likely to garner us a ticket
As we open the door to the venue, I spot Ellen relaxed on a sofa. She hops up with a big grin and an expression of recognition and comes over to greet us. I'm amazed that Ellen recognizes my face- we met one time. She doesn’t remember where… but I say 'poetry', and she says, "Oh, yes, Cliff Lynn, he's back from Afghanistan now!"
One of the musician fellows brings in beer, offers to the room in general, and ends up walking 'round and passing them out to each person individually. I realize only later that this is Quinn, the rhythm/drum/whispering half of Channing and Quinn.
As Channing and Quinn begin their set, Ellen slips out. She has been so sweet to Wednesday, signing her CD, and writing a personalized message on it as well. Wednesday and I are charmed.
Wednesday holds her sketch book all evening, not opening it at all, just hugging it to her, totally charmed by the indie-folk-accousticats.
(Channing and Quinn; The Corners of My Mouth)
I have a new crush. This should not be a surprise.
Short story: quirky musicians.
But you want the long story, right?
That's what I thought.
We leave the bar, so exhausted and elated that the Crime Scene tape across the next block fails to do more than arouse momentary bemusement. I re-learn the clutch on the Subaru.
Rewind:
Channing and Quinn are delightful, friendly, chatty and interested in us, as well as charming. YoungEv and I debate adjectives.
"Cute," he decides.
"Adorable," I argue.
"No, they ARE cute," he says. I wave impatiently, with both hands.
"BEYOND cute," I say.
"Oh," he says, "you're raising my...?"
"Right, I see your cute and I raise you an adorable."
"Gotcha."
Fuzzy ignores us and continues sketching.
Rewind:
My concern that I won't recognize Acacia Sears out of context is unfounded. I can't describe her, but I always recognize her. She's grown so lovely, and rocks so hard, I am in awe.
Rewind:
The family has gathered at Joe Squared for reputedly fabulous pizza, drinks and music. YoungEv will join us in a while. When the pizza arrives, we enjoy it, but are slightly disappointed, as the kids and I have very recently been impressed by pizza at Iggie's, which quite honestly I liked better.
Rewind:
It's Wednesday, and Ellen Cherry is playing live at The Electric Maid in Tacoma Park. Wednesday is beside me, worried that this concert will be crowded or boring or both. She makes me find a different parking space, as she thinks the one I've chosen is sketchy and likely to garner us a ticket
As we open the door to the venue, I spot Ellen relaxed on a sofa. She hops up with a big grin and an expression of recognition and comes over to greet us. I'm amazed that Ellen recognizes my face- we met one time. She doesn’t remember where… but I say 'poetry', and she says, "Oh, yes, Cliff Lynn, he's back from Afghanistan now!"
One of the musician fellows brings in beer, offers to the room in general, and ends up walking 'round and passing them out to each person individually. I realize only later that this is Quinn, the rhythm/drum/whispering half of Channing and Quinn.
As Channing and Quinn begin their set, Ellen slips out. She has been so sweet to Wednesday, signing her CD, and writing a personalized message on it as well. Wednesday and I are charmed.
Wednesday holds her sketch book all evening, not opening it at all, just hugging it to her, totally charmed by the indie-folk-accousticats.
(Channing and Quinn; The Corners of My Mouth)
22 July, 2011
Giant Turtle?
...where the sea was smooth as glass/ giving you one answer to a question/ that you never thought you'd ask....
"There's this movie from the 70s I'm trying to remember,"
and no one can ever remember what the movie is called. Despite having researched it a couple of times, I'm evidently resistant to owning it, or remembering the title. I wonder what that says about the title. Or me.
My cartoonist comic-book geeky pal, whose recent article provoked my musing to begin with 'solved' the mystery for me, which was interesting but not right.
What I remember is two little kids and a turtle, and then some town terrorized by an unseen monster which turns out to be a giant turtle. A Google search reveals that there are many searchers like myself, and despite only knowing 2 actual humans who ever saw it, (only one of whom remembers the title), evidently lots of people saw this and were/have been bothered/haunted by it for 30 years.
The search is 'giant turtle movie from the 70s' and RPG has a surprising yield of answers.
One searcher describes a scene later in the movie, on badmovies.net
This one describes a bit in the movie that I don't remember being there, but of course that's not what really bothers me.
I can't get past the misplaced apostrophe.
(Fleetwood Mac; Bermuda Triangle)
"There's this movie from the 70s I'm trying to remember,"
and no one can ever remember what the movie is called. Despite having researched it a couple of times, I'm evidently resistant to owning it, or remembering the title. I wonder what that says about the title. Or me.
My cartoonist comic-book geeky pal, whose recent article provoked my musing to begin with 'solved' the mystery for me, which was interesting but not right.
What I remember is two little kids and a turtle, and then some town terrorized by an unseen monster which turns out to be a giant turtle. A Google search reveals that there are many searchers like myself, and despite only knowing 2 actual humans who ever saw it, (only one of whom remembers the title), evidently lots of people saw this and were/have been bothered/haunted by it for 30 years.
The search is 'giant turtle movie from the 70s' and RPG has a surprising yield of answers.
One searcher describes a scene later in the movie, on badmovies.net
This one describes a bit in the movie that I don't remember being there, but of course that's not what really bothers me.
I can't get past the misplaced apostrophe.
(Fleetwood Mac; Bermuda Triangle)
20 July, 2011
To Do:
...take it or you leave it/ things that they say, Honor Brite/ if I promised you the moon and the stars/ would you believe it....
1. Memorize "up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, B, A"
2. Use randomly on internet, just for fun
3. Tell son this will ensure he passes his driving test
4. Laugh maniacally at this thought ALL DAY LONG
(The Alan Parsons Project; Games People Play)
1. Memorize "up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, B, A"
2. Use randomly on internet, just for fun
3. Tell son this will ensure he passes his driving test
4. Laugh maniacally at this thought ALL DAY LONG
(The Alan Parsons Project; Games People Play)