Tuesday, May 19, 2015

The Tuesday Afternoon Story






Today's story is brought to you by our sponsors  - 
Lucky Brown Products, makers of the fine formula Madam Jones HAIR GLORY, bringing sheen and superior shine to tresses of all textures and complexities since 1891.










Marjorie Sue was married to Jackson Clemens, they had two sons; Darren and Charlie ages 5 and 8 and they all happy familied at 1406 Horseshoe Drive in the city of Arrowsic, Maine; once home to the French and Indian War  a mid eighteenth century civil battle that was one might say  the American rendition of Europe's Seven Year War. Arrowsic would one day be hallowed ground for artists and birding enthusiasts. Arrowsic was a seemingly unremembered place at the time the Clemens family decamped in their symmetrically square Colonial house that was purchased in cold cash during the Prohibition era's last hurrah.  The Clemens liked to keep it under their hats as to not let their less than privileged neighbors feel inferior - but it was true - the Clemens family was doing just dandy in their pockets and mercifully would not suffer the bellied-up stock during the grayest days of the Great D. And how was it so?  Much of contemporaneous America from sea to shining sea barely managed to keep afloat. In the cities those erstwhile shakers and movers, once shining now shopworn - pavement pounders plodding along - cardboard insoles at a threadbare time. But the Clemens, they had new shoes.






It was not from old money, the origin of their riches and it may have been accumulated in a most unconventional manner though not dissimilar to  the more important Rockefeller - the family's main moneymaker,  who confessed years after securing a fortune himself - that it was  simply the retention of nickels and dimes, coins gathered as a child that led to his wealth . And  what  once  began  as a makeshift savings bank conveniently located under a mattress soon was transferred into some very strategic escrow accounts and it was near voila time, ching,ching. Now the Clemens couple, Marjorie Sue and Jackson since the time they were but knee-high on the measuring stick - cosmically shared the same pastime  - furniture foraging. Foraging for any small fortune, to a child a stone nickel may have well been a million bucks after all.  Marjorie Sue and Jackson both precociously aware that when grandma Millie and Uncle Victor came over for their Wednesday night suppers, their pockets would be all but lined with coin. Neither Marjorie Sue nor Jackson would have realized the value of the monies found in the settees and chairs but as soon as their respective beloved family members were kissing goodnight cheeks, escapees of earshot and clear were the coasts, into the cushions they would go.







Sometimes it wasn't domestic pennies that they would find or  nickels and dimes- at times what they excavated was the currency of exotic lands. Both of their families were fond of crossing the sea and keeping remnants.  But that wouldn't ever deter ambitious little Marjorie Sue and Jackson. and into the secret jars that Marjorie Sue and Jackson both coincidentally kept under wraps - under the floorboards of their respective garden shacks they would go - ching ching. Marjorie Sue and Jackson would keep their sequestered stashes secret until the day they turned eighteen - everyone knew eighteen was the age you couldn't get a spanking anymore. And independent of one another because you see - Marjorie Sue and Jackson were not aware of each other's existences until this point - but kismet was just around the corner, in fact it was four calendar months from the day which happened to be the same day  they took their jars to deposit in the Second National Savings Bank on Springsummer Road, when Marjorie Sue and Jackson would meet and sweep each other straight off their feet. And the day Marjorie Sue showed Jackson she had Ten Thousand, four hundred sixty two dollars and twelve cents. in her passbook Jackson showed Marjorie Sue his and the amounts were magically the same.






When Marjorie Sue finally mustered up the courage to confess to her father Murray and her mother Harriet that while it may have been a most naughty thing to do, that she was collecting the dropped pocket change of every family guest that came to visit the Baxters since the year 1919. Surprisingly mother Harriet was not surprised, for Mama H had been cleaning out Daddy Murray's pockets for years, and wasn't she a little entitled too?  After that red lipstick mark she could never completely remove from Murray's best business shirt, where did this stain come from - Harriet's lipsticks were always coral. Only a heathen hussy would sport crimson lips. No one ever mentioned the lipstick mark again - but it was now that  Harriet earned however the hard way - every last crumb that was kept inside Murray's various coat pockets . And wasn't that a mere pittance for the damages the anomaly caused. Finally a rainy day arrived as she presented to her daughter these three saved special jars, the three special jars were decidedly heavier than Marjorie Sue's jars this would require a second trip with some help  to the Second National Savings Bank on Springsummer Road. 






Harriet had her own set of keys to Murray's 1932 Ford Highboy truck, the keys were in her apron pocket since the day of Harriet's other epiphany - Harriet never, not the once sported Caron Narcisse Noir toilet water, for Harriet was more you could say the Giuerlin fragrance type of gal- and besides orange blossom was overbearing. And everyone knew only a whore would festoon Caron Narcisse Noir all over her person. It took a year and a day before the scent of the perfume would dissipate in Murray's truck. This was no hostile takeover and though Harriet would not hold the deed - the truck appeared to be always available for Harriet to use any time she wanted. Any time.







Harriet and Marjorie Sue presented the pleasant-faced teller at open window three at the Second National Savings Bank with the now three overflowing coin jars and after fifty-minutes of tallying its contents -  all was accrued - the amount inside the jars was twenty-nine thousand, four hundred and thirty-three dollars and two cents. Marjorie Sue asked her mother if she was certain she was doing the right thing, handing over all of the savings from the three special jars and Harriet insisted Marjorie Sue keep the cash. Marjorie Sue was the prettiest daughter. Lorraine, though lovely was not the loveliest of the three and Penelope was plain. Poor plain Penelope. Penelope was the spit of Lillian Gish.







And so you see, that is how the Clemens reaped their riches and never had to fret during the time of the Great Depression - and as for Jackson Clemens, well... his earnings once thought in earnest for his years dedicated to rummaging the underneath of rugs and swan-diving into sofas, it would be no serendipity as once believed - as the money was purposely placed there beginning in 1916 by Daddy William Clemens, ten cents left for the taking each day after Daddy Clemens and Marjorie Sue's mama ,who Daddy Clemens knew as Mrs. Baxter, the flame-haired woman who worked as a maid for the Clemens family but it was only a temporary job Mrs Baxter held secretly when she resigned  herself to taking such a menial position with the remit of earning a few extra Christmas dollars. Mrs. Baxter and Mr. Clemens were overheard one night in November by Mrs Clemens, during a Clemens family dinner party making the kitchen table move and shake in a most peculiar manner an act that was followed by a few most peculiar yelps. No, it would never be mentioned again.



                            THE END








Wednesday, May 13, 2015

Literal Lenny, Literally








Literal Lenny took everything by the value of its face, a face might have well have been an arithmetical equation as far as Literal Lenny was concerned. He saw everything as being the sum of all its parts and everything just added up to exactly what is was worth, no less, not more, no leftovers or leftunders. Consistent. To the penny. Literal Lenny said everything he meant and meant everything he said. When he was out painting the town the color red with a dame, he sported his 9 inch x 3/8 inch high density polyester roller with a certain pride - and like the gentleman Lenny absolutively was - walked his date  home, all the way to her door at eleven o'clock after a night of painting the town red, bowling, dinner and a movie, and the dame that he accompanied to this night of bowling, dinner and a movie - just as the other dames he shared such convivial moments with -  would more often than not  and with spectacular brio - invite Literal Lenny upstairs for that universal offering -  the night cap. Oh Lenny, ever the diplomat did accept these offers but was often left with one agape kisser, flummoxed and frantically scratching his head as he pondered why his current date as fetching as she may have been, would make the invite that more appealing but why oh why had she asked him to come up for a night cap when Lenny didn't notice the slightest lick of liquor anywhere in her joint. And there was often the other types of occasions after a night of dancing in endorphins-fueled abandon with his designated filly at the Moonlight Ballroom that Lenny was asked up for a steamin' cup of Joe and a slice of Entenmann's brand Cheese Crumb Babka  - but how convenient was it that nary a grind or a crumb of a store-bought cake was in the little lady's kitchen cupboard. Second Date ?- No . In Lenny's world people ought to say what they do and do what they say after all.








More than one way to skin a cat?

Literal Lenny, though he never saw anyone committing such a contemptible act as that - wondered how there could
 be so many imperviously cruel people, even though this was decades, some forty-five years before PETA came into the picture, people oughtta have known right from wrong and  how could select individuals have had such very little compunctions about skinning felines and in more than one manner at that. He knew to keep well away from that reference thankfully even with his lack of grey matter understanding because Literal Lenny so did have a big ol' soft spot in his heart for all four-legged beings, even if all the fellars Lenny was acquainted with at Fast Johnny's tavern thought it none too manly to take such shine to little foo-foo house-pets and Literal Lenny was negative on the fondness front for engaging in any such contretemps, an incident that may have well resulted in a broken beezer and kept his philanthropy for puddycats and poodles all to his lonesome.










Lenny knew that he should never watch his kettle, for pots don't really like having voyeurs do they ?And as a rightful reward for Lenny giving his kettle some much-needed space, tried and true - his cups arrived efficiently and at the appropriate heat setting thus never ever not even the once was Lenny tardy - he even made employee history - Literal Lenny was never, not the once absent or tardy, for  he showed up right on clock each and every day for his Eight O'clock in the morning shift at The Everlast Fabric Company, no Lenny would never mar his record on the account of being belabored by an unruly teapot.







In 1950, Literal Lenny retired from the Everlast Company, he was exactly sixty-five years old to the day and gee, that's the age you oughta be when you retire, not fifty-five or eighty-two; and Lenny decided he had more than enough of living in the township of Scranton, Pennsylvania and although the grass may have been greener it was only greener because Len had invented an early form of Astroturf , consequently as a result of Lenny never patenting his invention - would receive no credit for such but peculiarly or maybe not so peculiarly, Astroturf would surface one year after Literal Lenny's demise. 








And yes although Lenny believed his whole life in the credo that one can catch more flies with honey than vinegar and though he really didn't have much desire to preserve in his pantry these jars of honey once some mighty inclined flies took residence, he would keep hold of his vinegar, for it's perennial shelf life would accommodate Methuselah's tortoise and he was a Great Depression alma mater after all.  Lenny's life was not without its fair share of troubles and strifes but Lenny was as optimistic as he was verbatim about all things, held on for dear life with the  belief that it doesn't rain every day  and it was high time Lenny would require a change of pace, new scenery - did I mention Literal Lenny moved to Seattle - each year there are still seventy-one days out of  the three-hundred and sixty five of  pure unadulterated sunshine there. literally.




Friday, May 8, 2015

McCay's Marvels





Winsor McCay,1906


Clown: Don't you fool us! Bring Nemo to us, we will take him to Slumberland.
Lion tamer: Yes, don't fool us by all means!!! It means a heap to us.

Caption: Little Nemo could not sleep. A deep, rasping, noise made it
Nemo: What is that awful, awful, noise?

Caption: impossible to rest. A large lion had sneaked in, crept
Nemo: Is that you snoring that way? Get out from under there!

Caption: underneath Nemo's bed, gone to sleep and begun snoring
Nemo: Gwan! Get out, I want to sleep. How did you get in here?

Caption: fiercely. Whereupon Nemo promptly arose and ordered him
Nemo: Well, ah, eh, come back here. Come back to me! Hey you!

Caption: out, it surprised him, however, to find his commands
Nemo: Come here! I want to get acquainted with you!

Caption: so quickly obeyed by the king of beasts, so he called the
Nemo: Lay down! Lay down, I say! Lay down! That's it! Down! Down!

Caption: lion back. Such a magnificent creature might turn out to be
Nemo: Now! I want to see if I can't make use of you. Be quiet, be still, and I'll put a bridle on you.

Caption: a grand companion, thought Nemo, and soon after his mama
Nemo's mother: Oh Nemo! Where are you going?
Nemo: Just for a little ride. Isn't this fine mama? Eh!

Caption: saw her son galloping away in high glee. Nemo found, presently, to his great
Nemo: Whoa! Whoa! This is far enough! We'll go back now. Whoa! Whoa!!

Caption: discomfort, that he could neither stop nor turn the brute. The lion galloped madly in one bee line, as it were. For his home in the desert. Nemo saw
Nemo: Whoa, I say! Whoa! Oh! Whoa! Oh! Oh! Geedapp! Gwan! Geedapp! Go! Go!

Caption: at a glance that unless he couldn't urge his steed on something disastrous would happen. But he couldn't urge "Leo", as he called him, one inch. The poor fellow was exhausted and laid down to rest. Nemo then, in desperation, began
Nemo: Get up, Leo! Get up! Geedapp!!! Come on! Get up! Leo! Leo! Gwan! Getapp come let's go!

Caption: to tell for help. Which came just in time, in the form of one of the bravest little men Nemo has ever seen.
Lion tamer: Now, all of you brutes, scatter!!! Every one you! Skip! Gwan! I say! Get out, get away! Fly!!

Caption: Safe again, Nemo would have surely reached Slumberland had not
Lion tamer: Come on, we're off to Slumberland. Hurry! You coward! We are late. They're gone.
Clown: Oh, I'm so frightened! Are they gone? Eh?

Caption: little Leo meowed so, causing him to awake.
Nemo: Hello, Leo! Is that you? Is that you Leo, eh?



Monday, May 4, 2015

May The Horse Be With You



What did the recently rejected horse say to the other horse ?



Foal, if you think it's over.