Wednesday, August 24, 2016

"Is She One of Us?"


 I was standing in line at the bank, waiting for the only teller, who was speaking to a woman who appeared rawther odd looking, even for a Wisconsinite. She was very tall, wore overalls, with flip flops. She had the strangest hair style, and yeah, Wisconsin wimmen do have some weird looking hair styles, though this one was quite exceptional.

 Eventually, teller waves me up to counter whilst friend continues to talk. Then it looks as if friend wants to include me in on conversation. She kept looking at me as if I should also respond, which I did with a smile, although it was hard trying to look composed as friend had no eyebrows. It's hard to look at someone with no eyebrows and carry a nonchalant pose. I tried, although, her tale was about how tired she was because she couldn't sleep last night so she decided to fix the brakes on her car. Yes, you heard me. Fix breaks on car, which is a wonderful thing for a woman to know how to do. Um, two o'clock in the morning seems like an interesting time, however, but whatever floats yer boat, I says all the time.

 As we finally finish with transaction, and I start to walk away, I hear friend ask teller pal if I am one of them. Yeah, she said, "Is she one of us?" Wow. What could that mean? A teller, perhaps? A mechanic? An insomniac? An alien? It certainly had me pondering. In any event it was quite a start to my morning. And, no, I am not a sleepless mechanic/teller/alien.

I have my eyebrows.

Monday, August 22, 2016

You May Dreads It


I guess I'm behind the times when it comes to moving going. I just viewed, 10 Cloverfield Lane the other night. It was pretty good. Aliens and crazy eyed John Goodman is a good combo.


I also saw the movie, 'Hello, My Name is Doris,' starring Sally Field and Max Greenfield. Sally can do no wrong in my opinion, but Greenfield didn't seem right for the role. He seemed too normal, and Doris is not exactly normal. So, I sit, thinking who else could have played the part of the young co-worker Doris falls in lust/love?


Also, saw, 'The Walk.' Such a terrific movie. I love Joseph Gordon Levitt, who plays the part of real life daredevil, Philippe Petit, who thinks it's a good idea to walk between the World Trade Towers. Suspenseful and beautiful to look at.


And, I think I mentioned, 'Everest.' Yeah, well, I don't see a lot of movies that are after 1954.It was ho-hum. Read beck Weather's book instead.


Ooooh, ouch. Looks like, 'Ben Hur,' is a loser. I did see a preview. I couldn't get past seeing Morgan Freeman in dreads.

Friday, August 19, 2016

Trump is Awesome!


He's a genius. This is why the guy can spend his own money, to be king of America.

Yet... oh, he is so diabolical. Can't you see? He has no intention of wanting to be leader. His plan is to make the GOP look so sorry, so out of date, so un-hip, the world will have to take notice, as will the Ryans and the Christies and all the wanna be wall builders. He wants to show how stone cold people's hearts can be.

He plans to quit very soon and that someone who will take his place will have morals and values and not a tin heart. There must be one Republican to fit that bill. Trump will show us. He will. He will. So clever.

It's how I must think. Because the alternative is just too frightening.

Thursday, August 18, 2016

The Bum Life

Hello! If you want to comment, I've gone back to Blogger. Those reading from Google + probably won't see replies. I wish Google would combine the two.

Anyway... let me tell you about some of the folks in my hood.


Today I saw an old man, who was wearing a bright orange shirt and cap come out of the bushes of an elegant, but abandoned building. He stood in the park, looking towards Main street for about five minutes then walked back to his bush.

I saw a fifty-ish man trying to ride a scooter. He was in the bike lane, well, most of the time. He kept switching legs and it seemed to be a struggle for him. Scooters are made for young legs.

I saw a young lady with hair up to there and shorts WAY up to there, talking on her cell phone to someone about her man.

I saw a young boy, perhaps, twelve, thirteen, begging for money in front of the dollar store. He looked well fed, with clean clothes, and I was amused at first for some reason. Later I was disturbed and angry. Why is this young kid doing this?

I saw an old couple come out of the grocery store, the old woman wearing shoes which made her look and walk like Frankenstein's monster. The old man placed groceries in the trunk whilst the lady sat in the passenger seat. When he opened her door to hand her something I could hear her bitching at old man. Reminded me of my Gram.


Just another day in the hood.


Tuesday, August 16, 2016

Helpless, Helpless, Helpless

Aaaah, our very first full day of blogging. Really feels wonderful, although I already see a problem with commenting. Bugs, bugs...

How's your summer been? I cannot stand this extreme heat. I'm really looking forward to winter.


I've been doing a lot of walking, and when you walk you see a lot of interesting things, such as a couple standing on the sidewalk arguing. Well, he was arguing. She was trying to walk away. The, let's call him, arsehole, threatened to beat her up if she did not get in the car. She pleaded in a soft voice she had to go to work soon. I stood watching this for a bit when arsehole noticed me noticing him. They started walking down the sidewalk as I took out my phone. As he stood on the corner obviously waiting for me to pass them by, and seeing I was about to call 911, she backed up and I was able to pass her and ask her if she needed help. She kept her head towards the ground and didn't answer. The look on her face is something I won't forget. A look of resignation, fear, perhaps embarrassment. Again I asked if she was okay as she passed me by and stood by arsehole as he continued yelling at her.. I stood on the corner and dialed 911. He yelled something at me as they both got in his car and took off.

Later that evening I received a call from an investigator asking me questions about the couple. She was familiar with arsehole. I described the woman which puzzled the investigator because she said it didn't fit the description of the woman she talked to, who denied ever being on that street at that time. So, either the woman was lying, or she was not the same woman.

Either way, there is a woman who for some reason chose to leave with an abuser.

I don't understand that, and I never will.

I will never forget her face as she walked towards him and her fate.

Saturday, August 13, 2016

Queen Thingy is Back!


Yeah, bow down, please. I'm back.




Do you know how hard it has been for me to keep my mouth shut whilst the world is spinning a la Trump!? OMG!

Anyway, I'm back. I've got things to say. Pa-lenty.



Besides, blogging is my forte. Book writing is for that Patterson guy who can whip them out like peanut shells. Just been goofing off this summer.

So, I look forward to seeing my homies, and thank-you for not taking me off your reading list.

I'll be back.

Sunday, June 13, 2010

Shapely, Sharply and Sharks


Hmm... The claim was that she was going to swim from Cape Verde to Trinidad. That would be about 2,400 miles in the frickin' ocean, with sharks and things and shrinkage.

The only problem was that Jennifer Figge would have had to swim 90 miles a day, swimming 10 mph. to make it in the 25 days they said it was accomplished.

So, does it count if most of the time she is on a boat, and for short periods of time she climbs into a shark cage and swims with the fishies?

A writer at sports.yahoo compared it to someone saying they were going to walk across the U.S., then on occasion got out of the car and walked a few miles, then got back in the car.

Anyway, Did you know Walter Hunt patented the safety pin on this day in 1825?

What would we do without the safety pin?

Here's another fabulous poster from Poland. I've never seen any of these movies or the TV series. Not my thing, but I love the strangeness of this design. Cracked.com has some more interesting movie posters from around the world. The 'Cujo' poster is well... you just gotta go look for yourself.


Saturday, June 12, 2010

Making lemonade out of...er...nevermind


Well, I've heard of people living in storage units, but never a public loo.

Okay, so it wasn't being used at the time of purchase. In fact the old Victorian public toilet was in bad shape until Tracy Woodhouse and her partner bought the place and decided to convert it into a home.

It's small but cozy (Mail Online has photos) and has a great view.

Good for them. May the wind blow on ya from the right direction.

*A live cam of Scarborough. It could be down there. Should I play some Simon and Garfunkel now?

No?

Okay. : (

La Rose a Color'e des Lunettes


He said to call him Doc. Said he was in town to collect happiness from the townsfolk.

But, there were some in the town who didn't butter up to the Doc. He never talked much, just a word here or there. "Cookie?" he'd ask, which seemed a mighty strange thing for a Doc to ask. He always spoke in some strange language some guessed passed for that french crepe.

When the coach rode into town, the Doc could be seen lurking in the rose bushes and before the strangers had a chance to dismount, Doc would jump out of the bushes with a rose in hand.

"Welcome!" he shouted. "I am the spokesperson here in our tiny, exclusive shallot. Care for some bubbly tea? We are a shy, but a kindly group of merrry makers. Please, when you can spare a moment, take this simple survey, won't you? Aw chante and au revere. Please stop by our seweray later."

On board the stage coach was a tall, good looking man who took a dislike to the doc right away. Something just didn't set right with him. 'What kind of doc lurks in bushes and wants everyone to take a survey?' the tall man asked himself.

He had a job to do, and it didn't involve takin' no surveys or drinkin' any bubbly tea.

"S'cuse me, scuse me, I must interject my opinion here and now," said a man with a vase on his head. "These people are good... no, I mean they are bad. Yes, that's it. Watch my lips move as I talk out of my ass. It's intentional, I tell you, yes, yes, I know everyone and they are rotten to the core..oh, no, they are good, yes, yes, very good. So long now, hello."

The tall man could only shake his head and chuckle. 'Very strange goings on here', he thought. 'I think I'll head over to the diner and grab a bite to eat.'

He took a seat at the counter and watched as the gorgeous waitress with the long brown hair and longer shapely legs walked over to take his order.

"Can I help you tall man?" she asked quietly.

"I'll have a slice of chocolate cake with a glass of milk, please," the tall man replied.

(sigh) "Sorry, tall man, we only serve bubbly tea and cookies. Doc's orders."

"What's going on here, gorgeous lady with the long legs?"

The gorgeous lady with the long hair and the longer legs leaned over and whispered, "Meet me in the general store by the sewing threads in one hour and I will try to explain everything then."

As the tall man waited, he watched the town folk stroll by. 'Something just ain't right. They all seem like they're in some sort of trance, like they been hypnotized.'

Just then, the man with the vase on his head ran up to him. "Run, run..no, stay, stay. Doc is heading this way and he don't  seem happy. Are my lips moving? Oh, I must go.. no, I will stay. Goodbye."

"Tall man, dorme vou, have you taken our survey yet? Do so, quickly. My assistant will be back shortly to assist you with my request. Parlevou and Bonswa."

Just as he was about to let loose with some French of his own, the gorgeous lady came running down the street. And just as Doc was turning the corner, the lady and the doc ran smack into each other.

"I will report you!" screamed the Doc. "Toe the line!"

As the gorgeous lady chuckled and tried to walk past the 300 pound man, her long hair got caught in the Doc's lumberjack coat button and the coat flew off the doc to reveal, not a man, but a sad, little old lady who wore a french corset over her granny pants.

A gasp was heard from all around. The townspeople woke up from their trance and realized they had been duped. They could only look down at their feet and slink away.

The little old lady pointed her bony finger and shouted, "It wasn't me. It was my assistant. I am the Doc, I am the....oh, pepe le peu."

"Come with me, tall man," gestured the gorgeous lady with the long hair and longer legs. "I will make you that cake, but don't expect any roses on it. Too many thorns, wouldn't you agree?"












It Sure Don't Sound French


I always get the jitters when someone mentions "Vacation." Something always goes wrong and it was a guarantee when I was just a wee thingy that before we reached our destination, I would be upchucking in a Folgers coffee can.

Travel did not improve as I got older, especially car trips. The Dells are only a few hours away, but I've only been there once- and that was enough for me.

Hubby and I decided to make the three hour drive for a quick week-end respite. One hour into the trip, the car started to overheat. Instead of stopping to get it fixed, hubby bought several gallon containers of water to fill the radiator whenever the needle entered the red zone. Our three hour ride dragged on to five. The car wasn't the only thing that was boiling over.

The town was fairly quiet when we finally arrived, which was understandable, since the Dells season was nearly over. We managed to wash up a bit and make it downstairs for dinner in the lovely hotel we were staying in. Just as we started to draw in our claws and relax, we heard a cry from another table. We turned to see an older woman choking and grabbing at her throat. It all happened so fast. A dinner guest got up, performed the Heimlich, then calmly went back to his table to finish his dinner. After about a minute of complete silence, everyone resumed pre-crisis positions, but we all sort of glanced out of the corners of our eyes as the elderly woman was escorted out of the room. We ate our meal and went to bed, hoping the next day would put us in a better frame of mind.

Our mood did seem brighter as the sun shone and we practically skipped into town where we then had the worst breakfast imaginable by the snottiest waitress imaginable. We both sat in silence, afraid to move in case Medusa became angry.

After all that gloom, I was still looking forward to the Mighty Duck boat tour on the Wisconsin River to see the glorious sandstone cliffs nature's wrath created.
The river tour was fabulous. It's amazing to see the tips of trees in the water that were covered by the rushing water from the glacier that formed the beautiful cliffs. Taking a hike through the sometimes very narrow passageways was wonderful, as long as you didn't have a 200 pound claustrophobic woman ahead of you.

There is a photograph by H.H.Bennet, taken in 1886, of his son Ashley, leaping on to Stand Rock. Instead of using kids, dogs were putting on a show for the masses. I wasn't crazy about that either, but I did want to see the famous spot.

Our only hope in saving the day was there, up above. There were possibly a dozen people standing below the great stand, looking up, waiting for the show to begin. We waited- then, waited some more. We could hear the dogs howling like bloodhounds nearby, and we smiled and nodded at each other, some more giddy than others with anticipation. But then the baying from the dogs seemed to be farther away. Could it be? We heard a shout. Mutiny! The dogs had decided to take this day to go on strike. One by one we left the Rock.

Tommy Bartlett and his happy, beautiful crew of water acrobats had long departed. It was just as well, since I always think of Janet Lennon as one of the so happy, so healthy, so cheery kids that entertain the smiling blobs on shore. So, that meant either going back into town... or dinner at the restaurant. Town, it was. If my memory is reliable at the telling of this tale, there was a Ripley's Believe It or Not Museum and hubby loved old Ripley. The old bean bank fails after that. I really hate that kind of shit, so, I may have gone 'Walter Mitty', imagining that I was back at the Rock, saving the show by my ability to talk to the animals and convincing them that the show must go on. Instead, I was looking at photos of people with lizard skin and pictures of smiling men standing next to their giant balls of twine.

I'd like to say our adventure ended on a happy note, but let's save that shit for fairy tales. Hubby and I bickered and snapped the whole awful trip back.

But, hey, don't let my experience stop you from heading there. It does have something for everyone. I guess. Keep a look-out for those dogs, won't you?

The French called it 'dalles', or in English, 'slabs' which didn't matter anyway, cause the English twisted the word to 'dells'. Oui, or as the English say, Yup.

*Photo by jmerhe of H.H. Bennett's great photo.


Friday, June 11, 2010

"Bring in the bottled lightning, a clean tumbler and a corkscrew."


Rather Dickens looking. Still, a week-end in Paris sounds lovely.

*Dickens

I Can Explain

It's a perfectly logical conclusion to the beginning of my quest for a Native American funeral song.

It's been over ten years, but still, I search for a song that I have only heard once before. I only know that it is a song for the dead and is sung by a woman with such emotion, while a drum beats slowly in the background. I am haunted by her as much as Detective McPherson was for Laura.

So, I search...

I did find a beautiful song by Walela, which means 'hummingbird' in the Cherokee language. Rita Coolidge formed the band with her sister and niece in 1997. I had never heard of Walela, but I have heard of Coolidge and have admired her fabulous cheekbones which were begotten with Scottish and Cherokee blood.

Another Shameful American History Lesson, Here ->In the 1800's, Native Americans were forced to walk the 'Trail of Tears' or as the white folk called it "Indian removal" As other tribes were moved to the Oklahoma reservations, the Cherokee went to the Supreme Court, who did agree to allow the Cherokee to remain on their chosen land. However, Andrew Jackson had other ideas and he sent an army to forcibly remove them. Because it was in the dead of winter and they were ill prepared for the march, thousands died along the trail.

*Sidebar: Coolidge went to Andrew Jackson High School in Jacksonville, Fl.

In the summer of xx, I fell in love with Rita and Boz Scaggs. I listened to 'We're All Alone' hundreds of times and I cannot say if an 8-track was involved. It's getting blurry._._._

The Walker Brothers did a beautiful version of the song, too, but I don't really care.

The Brothers also sing, 'The sun ain't gonna shine anymore.' and so did Juliet Stevenson and Alan Rickman in one of my most favorite movies. It's a chick flick- a twenty hanky weeper.

Aah, Alan...

Baaaaby, baby...

Thursday, June 10, 2010

It's Pretty Easy Being Greene

In a previous post, I blasted Scott Lee Cohen for running for Lt. Governor of Illinois due to his ugly past that involved domestic abuse and drug abuse. After much pressure, he eventually dropped out of the race. (He now has loftier goals and wants to be Governor)

Now, there is the strange story of Alvin Greene, who lives at home with his dad, has no cell phone, no computer and no job...yet over 100,000 South Carolinians voted for him as the Democratic nominee in the race for Senator.

Greene did no fundraising, had no ads, and of course, no website. He uses the library computer.

In November of last year, Greene was arrested for sending obscene photos over the internet and could get up to a five year sentence if or when a trial is ever set.

You know what? If people are too stupid to look into who these people are who are going to make decisions on their behalf, well, then leave it. Greene is being pressured from the Democratic party to step down but he refuses to do so, and I ask, why should he?

The people have spoken.

Only The Shadow Knows


Gee, I hope the blogger album rolls over. I'm almost at my 1000th picture and as much as I have enjoyed blogging, the elves who work the controls are lacking in the help area. So, I guess I'll wait and see what happens.

Meanwhile back at the homefront...or Fran's house, looks like the kids have flown the coop.

There's A Man With A Gun...

I have never seen anyone openly carry a gun in Wisconsin, although it is legal. There was a story in the news today about "the man with the gun" who everyone in the neighborhood knew. Well, the man with the gun got robbed and his gun is no longer his gun, but is now in the hands of the robber.

I looked at the open carry gun laws in Wisconsin. First thing, concealed weapons are not legal here. You cannot open carry a gun in a car. Can't be near a government building, school, liquor store or state parks.

Against my better judgement, I read on...

A child as young as ten may carry a firearm or bow if at arm's length from an adult.

At the age of 14, you may carry a firearm without adult supervision.

There is a 48 hour waiting period before you can have weapon in hand.

This all brings back the incident that happened about ten years ago when my daughter called me at work and in a frightened voice told me the school was on lock down. When she talked to me briefly, she had no idea why, but the rumor was that there was a kid with a rifle that was coming to the school.

I went back to work in a daze. I wanted to leave, but there was nothing to be done. No one was getting in and no one was getting out of the school.

After what seemed the longest day of my life, I finally got home to find my beautiful child safe and sound. I finally heard most of what had transpired that day.

It all began when a 16 year old student became upset over some disciplinary action taken by a teacher. An officer was called in and the situation seemed to have been diffused. However, still angry, the student left the building and before he left school grounds he deflated the tires of the squad car. He then went home home and threatened to go back to the school with a rifle. A relative called the school to warn them that he was armed with a loaded shotgun. The search was now on to find the student.

As an officer searched a nearby cornfield, the young man stood up and took aim at the officer.
Instead of firing his weapon, the officer started to talk to the distraught teen. Eventually, the teen lowered his weapon and fled back into the field.

In those few seconds when the teen aimed a loaded weapon at the cop, it could have been his last decision, and in those few seconds, the officer had every right to defend himself, yet, he chose not to take a life.

Whether you think the cop made a stupid decision or a courageous one, it doesn't matter. It was just him and a young man in that cornfield and both have to live with those few seconds and the choice each made for the rest of their lives.

After all these years, I don't know what happened to the young man. I do know the officer was awarded the silver star for his action that day.

Anyway, there really is no connection to the first story and my tale, except guns were involved. And...I really do not like guns and think this open carry law is useless and pointless and very, very dangerous.

Sometimes, I don't like this state.

Don't get me started on the law that allows minors to be able to drink alcohol with adult supervision in bars and restaurants.

Ugh.