A Post for Curtis Crush, our blog friend of years ago, Canukville, UslessMatters...
Well, old boy,
Tomorrow, Oct 9th, is your birthday, and even though I know you are no longer gracing this earth with your wonderfully warm and hysterically funny posts, or cooking up gobs of food and taking pictures of it all, or showing off your latest truck, I am taking this moment, just as I have for all of your birthdays, to wish you the finest, the lovingnessed (I made up that word just now), birthday; a dance around the clouds day made just for you. I sure do miss you, my brother. We had such a great time having dinner 'together' over the cam each night and laughed so hard most of the time that I was afraid one of us was going to spit dinner all over the camera. Ahhh, but you did one better, remember? I'm telling on you now. I remember ohsowell the night you cocked a leg up and let one fly and said, "don't say I never gave you anything". HAHAHA. Gawd, I thought I'd die right on the spot. The only upside was that there's no such thing as smell-o-vision. We had some super fun nights, that's for sure. I still make your famous sweet potato pie and it's the best recipe I ever tasted in my life. 14 million calories in every bite and worth it all.
I think of you so often, Curtis, and now it breaks my heart that I won't be able to write to you on your page as I've been doing all these years since you passed away. Hey....I'll just do it here from time to time. Good deal, right? Next time, I'll bring a lemondrop martini and type away to you; maybe I'll bring one for you, too --- we know where that will end up, right? My belly, that's where.
I'm getting off track here and rambling. This little missive to you is to jump up and yell, HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I'll jump as high as I can and yell until I'm sure you can hear it. You're worth every good thought, every good wish, and every good hug. My brother for always.
XOXOXO
(PS/ tomorrow I'll be in surgery, and so that's why I'm writing to you a day early. Save a cloud dance for me.)
As a postscript, I couldn't get into his page as I always had and so that's why I posted here. THEN, as I was almost asleep, I thought, "Wait a minute, I didn't put the s on http!" Yep, my own fault; so the post is still here but also on his page.
Tuesday, October 8, 2019
Tuesday, June 18, 2019
Oldies But Goodies ~~
Recently, someone was telling me I should get a record player so that I could enjoy my REALLY old vinyls. Boy, that brought back a flood of memories, and I started thumbing through the cabinet still full of dozens and dozens of old vinyl records, each reminding me of times dancing in the living room to the latest dances, practicing until we were 'dead on our feet', and then showing off all of our moves at the many dance venues to Live bands from so long ago. As I worked my way through all of these loved old albums, I stopped when I got to one of them and just started laughing. Obviously there's a story here, so here I go:
In my high school days, the State Fair was the truly big deal of the September Fall season and all of us kids would not just go once, noooo, we'd go every single day, stay all day, and right through until the fireworks marked the close of the night. The fair was a yearly dream come true and one of the reasons was....ok, here it comes....the live strip shows. They didn't care if you were the prerequisite age to get in, oh heck no; they let everyone in. My best buddy, Billy, and I made a point to go to these every year, day after day. There were 2 entirely different shows, one at one end of the fair and the other at the other end. One was called The Red Hot Rambler and man alive, the music was the hottest (and loudest) rhythm and blues a person could ever want. There was no way to sit or stand still in that show. Well....the strippers in that show were a bit on the grungy side but the music, ohhh the music! Billy and I would sit through at least 2 shows at a time in that tent, groovin' to the beat and trying not to cringe during the strip acts. Honestly, I'm surprised it wasn't raided.
Next we'd slip out of the back of the tent and make our way to the other side of the fair and straight to The Stardust. Whole different ballgame. The main glossy, very blond stripper went by the name of Serena and there was an actual big board with her photo being crowned Miss Norway 1950-something. Now a stripper, once a beauty queen; who knows what happens in life. But she was undoubtedly beautiful and her stripping was just like Gypsy Rose Lee -- gloves would come off oh so slowly while she glided across the stage; the show of a shoulder, of a leg, the turn and dropping of the top to show tassels, the twirling in every direction possible, and then all of a sudden the whipping off of the skirt so fast that you'd miss it if you blinked because she'd throw the curtain around herself, a wink and a smile, and be gone. The entire act was always to the same music. Always. Buddy Morrow's Night Train. I can hear it as we speak; I can see every move she made and every twirl of the tassels. I was fascinated. Yes, every year Billy and I went back and back and saw the same repeat of these shows, never tiring of even a second. The last year we went, Billy went backstage and actually met Serena and looked like the cat that swallowed the canary. There's a reason for this, just hold on.
Christmas came along and all of us kids would exchange gifts and try to outdo each other in originality. There was a knock at my door. Billy, with that same canary grin from September, was holding out a very 'well wrapped' present to me. It was the Buddy Morrow Night Train album and it was wrapped in a black lace bra with cups the size of a Volkswagen. Slipped into the cups were 2 tassels and a note of "practice, practice, practice, and you, too, can headline at The Stardust". The bra and the tassels were from Serena! I laughed so hard that I snorted! On the other hand, my parents were appalled. Hey, it was the best present I ever got! I'd play that old vinyl album over and over and over, and ok, so I practiced, but that's not the point. The bra's cups could have held 2 people and I saved that thing for forever and a day. It was only recently, in my last move, where I gently picked it up to wrap it in new tissue that it began to crumble in my hands. Dry rot had found a home in the bra, the cups, and the now disintegrating tassels. I cried. It was a piece of great history to me from well over a half century ago. I picked up the phone and called Billy to give him the news and he just started laughing. Cad. I wouldn't be surprised if he and his wife showed up next Christmas with a new black lace 'giant' bra.
In my high school days, the State Fair was the truly big deal of the September Fall season and all of us kids would not just go once, noooo, we'd go every single day, stay all day, and right through until the fireworks marked the close of the night. The fair was a yearly dream come true and one of the reasons was....ok, here it comes....the live strip shows. They didn't care if you were the prerequisite age to get in, oh heck no; they let everyone in. My best buddy, Billy, and I made a point to go to these every year, day after day. There were 2 entirely different shows, one at one end of the fair and the other at the other end. One was called The Red Hot Rambler and man alive, the music was the hottest (and loudest) rhythm and blues a person could ever want. There was no way to sit or stand still in that show. Well....the strippers in that show were a bit on the grungy side but the music, ohhh the music! Billy and I would sit through at least 2 shows at a time in that tent, groovin' to the beat and trying not to cringe during the strip acts. Honestly, I'm surprised it wasn't raided.
Next we'd slip out of the back of the tent and make our way to the other side of the fair and straight to The Stardust. Whole different ballgame. The main glossy, very blond stripper went by the name of Serena and there was an actual big board with her photo being crowned Miss Norway 1950-something. Now a stripper, once a beauty queen; who knows what happens in life. But she was undoubtedly beautiful and her stripping was just like Gypsy Rose Lee -- gloves would come off oh so slowly while she glided across the stage; the show of a shoulder, of a leg, the turn and dropping of the top to show tassels, the twirling in every direction possible, and then all of a sudden the whipping off of the skirt so fast that you'd miss it if you blinked because she'd throw the curtain around herself, a wink and a smile, and be gone. The entire act was always to the same music. Always. Buddy Morrow's Night Train. I can hear it as we speak; I can see every move she made and every twirl of the tassels. I was fascinated. Yes, every year Billy and I went back and back and saw the same repeat of these shows, never tiring of even a second. The last year we went, Billy went backstage and actually met Serena and looked like the cat that swallowed the canary. There's a reason for this, just hold on.
Christmas came along and all of us kids would exchange gifts and try to outdo each other in originality. There was a knock at my door. Billy, with that same canary grin from September, was holding out a very 'well wrapped' present to me. It was the Buddy Morrow Night Train album and it was wrapped in a black lace bra with cups the size of a Volkswagen. Slipped into the cups were 2 tassels and a note of "practice, practice, practice, and you, too, can headline at The Stardust". The bra and the tassels were from Serena! I laughed so hard that I snorted! On the other hand, my parents were appalled. Hey, it was the best present I ever got! I'd play that old vinyl album over and over and over, and ok, so I practiced, but that's not the point. The bra's cups could have held 2 people and I saved that thing for forever and a day. It was only recently, in my last move, where I gently picked it up to wrap it in new tissue that it began to crumble in my hands. Dry rot had found a home in the bra, the cups, and the now disintegrating tassels. I cried. It was a piece of great history to me from well over a half century ago. I picked up the phone and called Billy to give him the news and he just started laughing. Cad. I wouldn't be surprised if he and his wife showed up next Christmas with a new black lace 'giant' bra.
I love memories, don't you?
XOXOXO
JennyD
Monday, April 22, 2019
I SAW That! Quarters Quarters Everywhere ~~~
I have to laugh. Today, I saw a headline that said, "A
win for people who park too long: Tire marking thrown out".
Ohhh, I remember the days so well. In my city, where a major university resides and more than one building used to be downtown and covered any number of blocks, there were signs posted all over saying, 2 Hr parking or be towed. Hey, it was college, and so we all came up with smart ways to work it...not saying the occasional ticket wasn't had. But here's what we did: So there we were, parked in every square inch of the street surrounding the university. We'd be so careful to note the time we dropped our quarters into the parking meter and we knew our tires would be marked by the ever-vigilant police in the area. It was almost like a club inside the buildings and we coordinated so fast it was amazing. At an appointed time, a group with a handful of keys would run out the door and move each car to the space in front of where they'd been. Yes, every car moved up one space and then safe again for another 2 hours. Great idea and it worked for years, but holy smoke, it wasn't easy to run out every 2 hours to make the change for probably 100 cars. Money saved? Yes. Tickets saved? Yes. Legs crumbling under the strain? A double yes. We often wondered why this 'no parking' applied to our school, I mean, for heaven's sake! But the law was the law and it never, ever changed. A decade later, that group of buildings left the area and moved back to the suburbs and so the locals of the area had to deal with the problem from then on. Can you even imagine living on those blocks and running outside in all weather, all seasons, and having to move your car? Insane.
And so today, I saw that headline and I couldn't help but remember the old days and got a good laugh. Funny thing was, the 3 states that dropped the 'tire marking' did not include mine. Ahh, the good old South, always a couple of steps behind in changes. Keep your quarters ready and a good pair of running shoes.
Ohhh, I remember the days so well. In my city, where a major university resides and more than one building used to be downtown and covered any number of blocks, there were signs posted all over saying, 2 Hr parking or be towed. Hey, it was college, and so we all came up with smart ways to work it...not saying the occasional ticket wasn't had. But here's what we did: So there we were, parked in every square inch of the street surrounding the university. We'd be so careful to note the time we dropped our quarters into the parking meter and we knew our tires would be marked by the ever-vigilant police in the area. It was almost like a club inside the buildings and we coordinated so fast it was amazing. At an appointed time, a group with a handful of keys would run out the door and move each car to the space in front of where they'd been. Yes, every car moved up one space and then safe again for another 2 hours. Great idea and it worked for years, but holy smoke, it wasn't easy to run out every 2 hours to make the change for probably 100 cars. Money saved? Yes. Tickets saved? Yes. Legs crumbling under the strain? A double yes. We often wondered why this 'no parking' applied to our school, I mean, for heaven's sake! But the law was the law and it never, ever changed. A decade later, that group of buildings left the area and moved back to the suburbs and so the locals of the area had to deal with the problem from then on. Can you even imagine living on those blocks and running outside in all weather, all seasons, and having to move your car? Insane.
And so today, I saw that headline and I couldn't help but remember the old days and got a good laugh. Funny thing was, the 3 states that dropped the 'tire marking' did not include mine. Ahh, the good old South, always a couple of steps behind in changes. Keep your quarters ready and a good pair of running shoes.
Monday, April 8, 2019
I Wonder ~~
We talk about the opioid addiction in this country and yes, painkillers are prescribed for every little thing and that's dead wrong (do not pardon the pun), but I can't help but wonder about another addiction and it's world-wide: The Creeping Facebook Addiction. It gets you before you even realize it. I don't go there anymore but I still get notifications and it amazes me how absolutely everyone posts every few minutes of every single day. They are SO comfortable and so blinded by it all that they even post where they are, where they're going, how long they'll be gone and everything else pertinent for any robber. What's the matter with these FB folks? Do you really think that anyone cares what TV show you're watching or what you're having for lunch and where? Crossing the line has become a 'so what'. Cursing out others' beliefs are commonplace and photos to show every little thing about families are rampant on the world-wide-web, always to be available to anyone and some of those 'anyones' could be up to no good. If you must post these personal photos or information about where you are, etc, then make your page completely private EXCEPT to your own family --- not friends or others you don't even know, just immediate family. As for the rest, if you want to keep in contact, then call them with your own voice. And if you want to have an open forum on your thoughts, such as this, then start a blog. At least it's a true form or conveying feelings and ideas and not just a place to post a cartoon or yell at your neighbor. A blog; wow, what a novel idea!
(I am on such a rant right now and happy to let it all out)
I miss the days of true human contact. NO texts, just pick up the darn phone and call or answer yours. Here's an example from just a few days ago: I PHONED my neighbor to ask how her husband was as he'd been in ICU for 2 weeks. I also was going to ask if she'd like to share my dinner with me so she'd have a break from all the stress. I got her voice mail. I left the message and asked for her to call me back or meet me at our adjoining fence. I got a TEXT. A longgggggggg text. Must have taken her 5 min to type it all. No phone call. She never even acknowledged the dinner invitation. Craziest of all is her ending of the text: "You are such a loving and caring, helpful neighbor. I am so lucky." Ask me if I was overjoyed to see the typing instead of hearing it in person. For God's sake, put down the smartphone, go offline, go outside. We all talk about how great the 'good old days' were, so what's holding anyone back from RE-doing them? I'll tell you what it is. It's smartphones and FB. You know it's true, it's just a hard habit to break. Make the move. Carry that phone in the car for emergencies, not to chit chat. Do that in person. Sit down together, have coffee, have tea, have wine, have anything, just make sure you have each other and not empty typed words. Do it.
So now you answer the question: What's more addictive, Opioids or FaceBook? They sure seem to be running neck and neck. Do you agree? Then click "Like".
NOOOOOOOO!!!
(I am on such a rant right now and happy to let it all out)
I miss the days of true human contact. NO texts, just pick up the darn phone and call or answer yours. Here's an example from just a few days ago: I PHONED my neighbor to ask how her husband was as he'd been in ICU for 2 weeks. I also was going to ask if she'd like to share my dinner with me so she'd have a break from all the stress. I got her voice mail. I left the message and asked for her to call me back or meet me at our adjoining fence. I got a TEXT. A longgggggggg text. Must have taken her 5 min to type it all. No phone call. She never even acknowledged the dinner invitation. Craziest of all is her ending of the text: "You are such a loving and caring, helpful neighbor. I am so lucky." Ask me if I was overjoyed to see the typing instead of hearing it in person. For God's sake, put down the smartphone, go offline, go outside. We all talk about how great the 'good old days' were, so what's holding anyone back from RE-doing them? I'll tell you what it is. It's smartphones and FB. You know it's true, it's just a hard habit to break. Make the move. Carry that phone in the car for emergencies, not to chit chat. Do that in person. Sit down together, have coffee, have tea, have wine, have anything, just make sure you have each other and not empty typed words. Do it.
So now you answer the question: What's more addictive, Opioids or FaceBook? They sure seem to be running neck and neck. Do you agree? Then click "Like".
NOOOOOOOO!!!
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