A stone, a leaf, an unfound door; of a stone, a leaf, a door. And of all the forgotten faces.
Naked and alone we came into exile. In her dark womb we did not know our mother's face; from the prison of her flesh we come into the unspeakable and incommunicable prison of this earth.
Which of us has known his brother? Which of us has looked into his father's heart? Which of us has not remained forever prison-pent? Which of us is not forever a stranger and alone? O waste of loss, in the hot mazes, lost, among bright stars on this most weary unbright cinder, lost!
Remembering speechlessly we seek the great forgotten language, the lost lane-end into heaven, a stone, a leaf, an unfound door. Where? When? O lost, and by the wind grieved, ghost, come back again.
Thomas Wolfe
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Thursday, February 23, 2012
The Rat Faced Boy
Places to Eat in Northwood, North Dakota
The rat-faced boy had a dog-faced sister so we came to the conclusion that they had different daddies but that neither was fathered by the man currently married to their mother. That man looked like a weasel, and besides he was as gay and effeminate as a man can be. His was a marriage of something like convenience to the small town heiress of Larry's Restaurant. Her true love was the town's mortician.
The man and his wife ran Larry's which was one of two places to eat in Northwood, North Dakota and was frequented by farmers and townsmen for the daily breakfast and lunch specials.
The rat-faced boy's ancient, arthritic grandmama worked in the steamy scullery. She washed dishes and could always be heard clinking, clattering and banging around. I never saw anyone speak to her except in clipped commands. She muttered a constant stream obscenities that no one ever responded to.
The pancakes served at Larry's weren't poisonous like lead but did have other similarities. They were thick and heavy and served with two wide, greasy slabs of limp bacon and oily hash browns. Returning for the lunch time special didn't really give a person's stomach a chance to get the bacon fat and pancakes a chance to half-digest.
The only other place to eat in town was the drive-in which was run by a man who was as pale and wan and white-headed as a ghoul. In fact, that's what he went by, The Ghoul, a name bestowed in youth. It wasn't known whether The Ghoul was a genuine albino or not but the subject was the cause of much speculation.
The Ghoul smartly avoided the sun and drove a long white Cadillac with darkly tinted windows. He had a wife who bore no children but instead rather a dissatisfaction with existence. Bear witness every stride she took and every word she spoke. She had once been vigorous and athletic, a cheerleader in fact, and a member of the renowned all-blond Jumpin' Go Goes gymnast group which performed at pep fest rallies and halftimes in places as big as Fargo and Minneapolis and as far away as Grand Island, Nebraska.
Mrs. Ghoul's glory days were long over. In the drive-in she snapped orders at waitresses, flipped burgers, and made malted milks.
The menu of the drive-in was on a big billboard that depicted a smiling pompom girl standing with legs crossed and pompoms in the air. The model for the billboard was Mrs. Ghoul in her younger days. She had been pretty and talented by local standards but was unpleasantly vain and arrogant. She married The Ghoul because she mistakenly thought he had money and promise.
Truck drivers and the locals called the drive-in the "Pomeranian" derived from the pompoms, the quality of the food, Mrs. Ghoul’s promiscuity and other attributes.
...to be continued
The rat-faced boy had a dog-faced sister so we came to the conclusion that they had different daddies but that neither was fathered by the man currently married to their mother. That man looked like a weasel, and besides he was as gay and effeminate as a man can be. His was a marriage of something like convenience to the small town heiress of Larry's Restaurant. Her true love was the town's mortician.
The man and his wife ran Larry's which was one of two places to eat in Northwood, North Dakota and was frequented by farmers and townsmen for the daily breakfast and lunch specials.
The rat-faced boy's ancient, arthritic grandmama worked in the steamy scullery. She washed dishes and could always be heard clinking, clattering and banging around. I never saw anyone speak to her except in clipped commands. She muttered a constant stream obscenities that no one ever responded to.
The pancakes served at Larry's weren't poisonous like lead but did have other similarities. They were thick and heavy and served with two wide, greasy slabs of limp bacon and oily hash browns. Returning for the lunch time special didn't really give a person's stomach a chance to get the bacon fat and pancakes a chance to half-digest.
The only other place to eat in town was the drive-in which was run by a man who was as pale and wan and white-headed as a ghoul. In fact, that's what he went by, The Ghoul, a name bestowed in youth. It wasn't known whether The Ghoul was a genuine albino or not but the subject was the cause of much speculation.
The Ghoul smartly avoided the sun and drove a long white Cadillac with darkly tinted windows. He had a wife who bore no children but instead rather a dissatisfaction with existence. Bear witness every stride she took and every word she spoke. She had once been vigorous and athletic, a cheerleader in fact, and a member of the renowned all-blond Jumpin' Go Goes gymnast group which performed at pep fest rallies and halftimes in places as big as Fargo and Minneapolis and as far away as Grand Island, Nebraska.
Mrs. Ghoul's glory days were long over. In the drive-in she snapped orders at waitresses, flipped burgers, and made malted milks.
The menu of the drive-in was on a big billboard that depicted a smiling pompom girl standing with legs crossed and pompoms in the air. The model for the billboard was Mrs. Ghoul in her younger days. She had been pretty and talented by local standards but was unpleasantly vain and arrogant. She married The Ghoul because she mistakenly thought he had money and promise.
Truck drivers and the locals called the drive-in the "Pomeranian" derived from the pompoms, the quality of the food, Mrs. Ghoul’s promiscuity and other attributes.
...to be continued
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Rewrite
I'm workin' on my rewrite, that's right
Gonna change the ending
Throw away the title
Toss it in the trash
Every minute after midnight
... All the time I'm spending
Is just for workin' on my rewrite
Gonna turn it into cash
I been workin' at the Car Wash
I consider it my day job
'Cause it's really not a pay job
But that's where I am
Everybody says "The old guy
Workin'at the Car Wash?"
Hasn't got a brain cell left
Since Vietnam
Chorus
But I say
Help me, help me
Help me, help me
Thank you!
I'd no idea
That you were there
When I said help me, help me
Help me, help me
Thank you
For listening to my prayer
I'll eliminate the pages
Where the father has a breakdown
And he has to leave the family
But he really meant no harm
Gonna substitute a car chase
And a race across the rooftops
Where the father saves the children
And he holds them in his arms
Yeah I'm workin' on my rewrite, all right
Gonna change my ending
Throw away the title
Toss it in the trash
Every minute after midnight
All the Time I'm spending
Is just for workin' on my rewrite.
Gonna turn it into cash
Chorus
I said
Help me, help me
Help me, help me
Thank you!
I'd no idea
That you were there
Paul Simon
Gonna change the ending
Throw away the title
Toss it in the trash
Every minute after midnight
... All the time I'm spending
Is just for workin' on my rewrite
Gonna turn it into cash
I been workin' at the Car Wash
I consider it my day job
'Cause it's really not a pay job
But that's where I am
Everybody says "The old guy
Workin'at the Car Wash?"
Hasn't got a brain cell left
Since Vietnam
Chorus
But I say
Help me, help me
Help me, help me
Thank you!
I'd no idea
That you were there
When I said help me, help me
Help me, help me
Thank you
For listening to my prayer
I'll eliminate the pages
Where the father has a breakdown
And he has to leave the family
But he really meant no harm
Gonna substitute a car chase
And a race across the rooftops
Where the father saves the children
And he holds them in his arms
Yeah I'm workin' on my rewrite, all right
Gonna change my ending
Throw away the title
Toss it in the trash
Every minute after midnight
All the Time I'm spending
Is just for workin' on my rewrite.
Gonna turn it into cash
Chorus
I said
Help me, help me
Help me, help me
Thank you!
I'd no idea
That you were there
Paul Simon
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Positive Thinking and Loathing
I planned on spending today whining and moaning and complaining and crying like a fool and thinking about what shoulda woulda coulda been but then some A-hole Facebook friend of mine said,
"Perhaps one of the secrets to a long and happy life is, when faced with adversity, you are able to pick yourself up and dust yourself off, and move on without dwelling upon the negative."
What to do with my day now that my plans had been ruined by advice from a magical thinker.
The only reasonable alternative to self pity is shopping. I went to the department store where I am working and spent my holiday earnings. I bought a couple Christmas presents for my kids and one for myself. I got a great discount on a previously used Wusthof precision forged chef's knife. It was still blood stained. Remember the rude customer whose organ donor card I took literally on Black Friday?
At home when I unboxed the knife I almost sliced my little finger off and walked around the house clutching a wadded up paper towel. I did not whine or moan or dwell on the negative. I screamed in pain.
Unfortunately the paper towel was super absorbent, as shown on TV. It sucked up enough blood to make me sit down and wish I had health insurance.
Enough of this. I'm headed to 501Spin.
Post script: I blew my knee spinning, spent the remainder of the day icing.
"Perhaps one of the secrets to a long and happy life is, when faced with adversity, you are able to pick yourself up and dust yourself off, and move on without dwelling upon the negative."
What to do with my day now that my plans had been ruined by advice from a magical thinker.
The only reasonable alternative to self pity is shopping. I went to the department store where I am working and spent my holiday earnings. I bought a couple Christmas presents for my kids and one for myself. I got a great discount on a previously used Wusthof precision forged chef's knife. It was still blood stained. Remember the rude customer whose organ donor card I took literally on Black Friday?
At home when I unboxed the knife I almost sliced my little finger off and walked around the house clutching a wadded up paper towel. I did not whine or moan or dwell on the negative. I screamed in pain.
Unfortunately the paper towel was super absorbent, as shown on TV. It sucked up enough blood to make me sit down and wish I had health insurance.
Enough of this. I'm headed to 501Spin.
Post script: I blew my knee spinning, spent the remainder of the day icing.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Midnight in Harlem
Well, I came to the city
I was running from the past
My heart was bleeding
And it hurt my bones to laugh
Stayed in the city
No exception to the rules, to the rule
He was born to love me
I was raised to be his fool, his fool
Walk that line, torn apart
Spend your whole life trying
Ride that train, free your heart
It's midnight up in Harlem
I went down to the river
And I took a look around
There were old man's shoes
There were needles on the ground
No more mysteries, baby
No more secrets, no more clues
The stars are out there
You can almost see the moon
The streets are windy
And the subway's closing down
Gonna carry this dream
To the other side of town.
Walk that line, torn apart
Spend your whole life trying
Ride that train, free your heart
It's midnight up in Harlem
Derek Trucks & Susan Tedeschi Band
http://youtu.be/7ubH7dLJJiE
I was running from the past
My heart was bleeding
And it hurt my bones to laugh
Stayed in the city
No exception to the rules, to the rule
He was born to love me
I was raised to be his fool, his fool
Walk that line, torn apart
Spend your whole life trying
Ride that train, free your heart
It's midnight up in Harlem
I went down to the river
And I took a look around
There were old man's shoes
There were needles on the ground
No more mysteries, baby
No more secrets, no more clues
The stars are out there
You can almost see the moon
The streets are windy
And the subway's closing down
Gonna carry this dream
To the other side of town.
Walk that line, torn apart
Spend your whole life trying
Ride that train, free your heart
It's midnight up in Harlem
Derek Trucks & Susan Tedeschi Band
http://youtu.be/7ubH7dLJJiE
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Grandma Dorothy's Tater Tot Hot Dish Recipe
Tater Tot Hot Dish
Dictated by Grandma Dorothy
Transcribed verbatim by Bededo Bedado
Layer in casserole dish as followed:
1 lb hamburger (put in bottom of pan and salt and pepper) draining grease is optional
layer chopped onions
1 can of french cut stringed beans (drained)
other vegetables are optional
1 can cream of chicken, cream of mushroom or cream of whatever soup
One bag of (or to taste) frozen tater tots on top
Bake uncovered at 350 for an hour.
Dictated by Grandma Dorothy
Transcribed verbatim by Bededo Bedado
Layer in casserole dish as followed:
1 lb hamburger (put in bottom of pan and salt and pepper) draining grease is optional
layer chopped onions
1 can of french cut stringed beans (drained)
other vegetables are optional
1 can cream of chicken, cream of mushroom or cream of whatever soup
One bag of (or to taste) frozen tater tots on top
Bake uncovered at 350 for an hour.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
The Nonconforming Sparrow
Lessons from Gramps
Once upon a time there was a nonconforming sparrow who decided not to fly south for the winter. However, the weather soon turned so cold that he reluctantly started to fly south. In a short time ice began to form on his wings and he fell to earth, landed in a barnyard, almost frozen. A cow passed by and crapped on the little bird. The sparrow thought it was the end but the manure warmed him and defrosted his wings. Warm and happy, able to breathe, he started to sing. Just then a large cat came by and heard the chirping, investigated the sounds, cleared away the manure, found the chirping bird and promptly ate him.
This story contains three lessons:
1) Everyone who shits on you is not necessarily your enemy.
2) Everyone who gets you out of the shit is not necessarily your friend.
3) If you are relatively happy in a pile of shit, keep your mouth shut.
Once upon a time there was a nonconforming sparrow who decided not to fly south for the winter. However, the weather soon turned so cold that he reluctantly started to fly south. In a short time ice began to form on his wings and he fell to earth, landed in a barnyard, almost frozen. A cow passed by and crapped on the little bird. The sparrow thought it was the end but the manure warmed him and defrosted his wings. Warm and happy, able to breathe, he started to sing. Just then a large cat came by and heard the chirping, investigated the sounds, cleared away the manure, found the chirping bird and promptly ate him.
This story contains three lessons:
1) Everyone who shits on you is not necessarily your enemy.
2) Everyone who gets you out of the shit is not necessarily your friend.
3) If you are relatively happy in a pile of shit, keep your mouth shut.
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