While floating in the flotsam and jetsam
of craigslist, or dating, or similar,
many a strange tale may be come across.
Here's another one, for your perusal.
I am now acquainted, poorly, with one
MD-PhD. degree collector.
I am not impressed. No reason to be.
Though he does try, to do so, in his way.
He had responded to my post, titled
'this old house, episode one', he was charmed.
His brief note poorly edited - NB:
from now, avoid all types of 'word salad'.
His first line cannot be true: his claim was
'emotionally available'. huh.
doesn't describe subsequent behavior.
NB: actions speak louder, look at them.
We wrote a little. We were to attend
the potluck show reunion. I purchased
tickets, but, then, no show. No time to let
anyone redeem abandoned billet.
I found Harvey at the show. Draping arm
along my chair, he asked me how I was -
I replied 'stood up for date - how are you?'
Consoling friend. Lovely show, anyway.
Voice mail, heard later, made no reference
to his regret. Only offered he'd call
my other phone. No message. He has four
cell phones. impossible. next, is my fault.
NB: under this rubric, give up, now.
Conciliatory note is stupid.
Everything else I did, I guess only
can be for more story material.
We were to meet the next weekend, North Bend.
He was to help me get a christmas tree.
Sounds like fun date! My idea: not his.
NB: it was his move, not yours. watch out.
Not surprisingly, day-of, wants to change.
Offers to bring me a tree, instead. well.
I'm still learning about this character.
I decide to let it play out. Too far.
He must re-re-schedule delivery.
This is a set up for imminent doom.
That is what we got. It was so comic.
Toxicologist tree-deliverer.
After rush hour, here at the door is
a disheveled cowboy, rude to my hands,
demonstrates real lack of any horse sense
disperses stocks of graciousness, all coralled.
Maverick needs shave; rumpled shirt, stained slacks.
Toxicologist look: underslept, -kept.
He can't just set tree down, philistine.
Asks for money in front of both roommates.
At once, I summons full spinal column.
Shall I give him bills, show him door? Or, be
the person I prefer to be: let this
play out, have no fear that it will linger?
I serve him enchiladas made for the
previous night, when tree last expected.
Consumes in three minutes, flat. Then, showing
all the gall I can bear in my kitchen --
He actually asks to chew. This, after
an early note spoke of a "friend's" advice
on chewing tobacco, part of my post
What a piece of work. Amazing. Great Scot.
He had written that my house sounded like
the new Bob Newhart Show. Perhaps so. And,
perhaps, he's a walk-on character. We
do not have any further want of him.
He's from Moab, Utah. His drawl is, too?
Knew Edward Abbey, quakers, contradance.
What do we have in common, say again?
Forty-six, I understand. Such a mess.
Fare thee well: thanks for good will, lessons, tree.
Conflicted gauche gaucho, such memory
deserves to be recorded, and so is.
E would call you 'lumberjack' to your face.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
about that tree...
It was another lovely evening of vignettes at This Old House, and for my loyal fans gained in another venue, I thought I'd write a wee Christmas offering from the artist's colony we call home. But, Rachel's picture of the tree prompts me to offer this, here.
We meant to get a Christmas tree installed much sooner than we did. We also meant to get it from good 'ol Freddy, while racking up enough purchases to get a free Thanksgiving turkey. But, Thanksgiving was a little early this year, and other purchases were more expeditious.
A most odd, and actually annoying, experience ensued that nevertheless resulted in getting a tree, delivered. It was delayed by a week, involved Serious Improvements to the tree stand (?!?!?), creating still yet another project for E the Longsuffering, but here we are, big honkin' tree in front parlor, once again. Ole! Hopefully the venerable lampshade on the valuable lamp will get a replacement shortly. If a tree falls in your parlor, and no one's around to hear the sound, well, it still might take out your stiffel...
So, the tree's been milling around for a week, got a strand of lights on it a night or so ago, and a star on the top. Lame. C'mon, people! Where's the 'ol xmas spirit, eh?
Well, here it comes. I got actor-roommate to commit last night to helping. While heading off for a holiday party, our young darling Amelia Earhart figure and male consort said they'd do a wee bit of trimming. Good. I came home, holly in hand, put on some xmas tunes, placed the ladder, and started stringing lights.
And stringing lights.
And stringing lights.
It still looks kinda' bare, in spots, but that's SEVEN strands, already. huh! Glad they're leds...
E the Longsuffering arose from the depths, and was amused that we'd discovered one new ornament was a second star tree-topper. E was less amused, when he went to look, that ALL the night-light (aka nite lite) light bulbs on the Infamous Staircase Storage Area were burnt out. GAA!! It's our running gag. You look there for something, and if it's not disappeared, it otherwise Not Quite Right. So, there was like FIVE burnt out bulbs. How annoying!!! Well, it was his turn. Inside of this month I've gone for a flashlight to find all five AWOL, or told someone the match jar was there, and it wasn't (why can't you just take the last book of matches, and leave the jar? why take the whole blooming jar?!?)
Anyway, the stars, in his estimation, on his first assessment "looked like they were going to take five paces". When he said this, I immediately collapsed into my chair, peeling with guffaws and snorts. Glad he fixed it. As Designated Curmudgeon, he was a little off-put by having two lighted stars... but I like it. It's symbolic. We all follow our own lights around here... and what's it to 'ya, anyway? Due to how the tree was 'shaped' at the Daisy Hill Xmas Tree Farm or where-'ere it came, it had TWO appropriate points to affix something too. A bit to far apart for most angel-skirts...
So, the roommates made short work of the tree. It took about 1.5 plays of the xmas album to get the tree to its current festive level. And then good 'ol A decided as a gesture to re-install the surround sound system. What a guy. And E decided to put up some more greenery. I even got the wreaths up, finally, finally. whoo! What a little florists' tape can do. Another roommate, flying out at an regrettable hour, took breaks from packing to cheer us on, offer beer to those so interested. Didn't hurt the festive spirit.
During all this the Curmudgeon Emeritus (we have one of those) was having some fits with his hearing aids, which, on his random entries and exits into the cheery scene made it all a little dada-esque. Most interestingly, after shunning the room for upteen months, he did, indeed, make an entrance to view the house tree, and enjoy the twin stars, and symbolism. I still need to work on accepting the unmatched plaid.
And then A turned off the switch, and all the leds promptly turned off. And the tree stayed upright.
o christmas tree
o christmas tree
your astronomy is curious
o christmas tree
o christmas tree
your light-show not del-e-terious
your household is a busy one,
but once at hand, attend you some
o christmas tree
o christmas tree
stay upright, please, we're ser-i-ous
We meant to get a Christmas tree installed much sooner than we did. We also meant to get it from good 'ol Freddy, while racking up enough purchases to get a free Thanksgiving turkey. But, Thanksgiving was a little early this year, and other purchases were more expeditious.
A most odd, and actually annoying, experience ensued that nevertheless resulted in getting a tree, delivered. It was delayed by a week, involved Serious Improvements to the tree stand (?!?!?), creating still yet another project for E the Longsuffering, but here we are, big honkin' tree in front parlor, once again. Ole! Hopefully the venerable lampshade on the valuable lamp will get a replacement shortly. If a tree falls in your parlor, and no one's around to hear the sound, well, it still might take out your stiffel...
So, the tree's been milling around for a week, got a strand of lights on it a night or so ago, and a star on the top. Lame. C'mon, people! Where's the 'ol xmas spirit, eh?
Well, here it comes. I got actor-roommate to commit last night to helping. While heading off for a holiday party, our young darling Amelia Earhart figure and male consort said they'd do a wee bit of trimming. Good. I came home, holly in hand, put on some xmas tunes, placed the ladder, and started stringing lights.
And stringing lights.
And stringing lights.
It still looks kinda' bare, in spots, but that's SEVEN strands, already. huh! Glad they're leds...
E the Longsuffering arose from the depths, and was amused that we'd discovered one new ornament was a second star tree-topper. E was less amused, when he went to look, that ALL the night-light (aka nite lite) light bulbs on the Infamous Staircase Storage Area were burnt out. GAA!! It's our running gag. You look there for something, and if it's not disappeared, it otherwise Not Quite Right. So, there was like FIVE burnt out bulbs. How annoying!!! Well, it was his turn. Inside of this month I've gone for a flashlight to find all five AWOL, or told someone the match jar was there, and it wasn't (why can't you just take the last book of matches, and leave the jar? why take the whole blooming jar?!?)
Anyway, the stars, in his estimation, on his first assessment "looked like they were going to take five paces". When he said this, I immediately collapsed into my chair, peeling with guffaws and snorts. Glad he fixed it. As Designated Curmudgeon, he was a little off-put by having two lighted stars... but I like it. It's symbolic. We all follow our own lights around here... and what's it to 'ya, anyway? Due to how the tree was 'shaped' at the Daisy Hill Xmas Tree Farm or where-'ere it came, it had TWO appropriate points to affix something too. A bit to far apart for most angel-skirts...
So, the roommates made short work of the tree. It took about 1.5 plays of the xmas album to get the tree to its current festive level. And then good 'ol A decided as a gesture to re-install the surround sound system. What a guy. And E decided to put up some more greenery. I even got the wreaths up, finally, finally. whoo! What a little florists' tape can do. Another roommate, flying out at an regrettable hour, took breaks from packing to cheer us on, offer beer to those so interested. Didn't hurt the festive spirit.
During all this the Curmudgeon Emeritus (we have one of those) was having some fits with his hearing aids, which, on his random entries and exits into the cheery scene made it all a little dada-esque. Most interestingly, after shunning the room for upteen months, he did, indeed, make an entrance to view the house tree, and enjoy the twin stars, and symbolism. I still need to work on accepting the unmatched plaid.
And then A turned off the switch, and all the leds promptly turned off. And the tree stayed upright.
o christmas tree
o christmas tree
your astronomy is curious
o christmas tree
o christmas tree
your light-show not del-e-terious
your household is a busy one,
but once at hand, attend you some
o christmas tree
o christmas tree
stay upright, please, we're ser-i-ous
minutes from ad hoc committee meeting
even my roommates think we should be a tv show. i agree. minutes from the kitchen popcorn 'n' late nite committee meetings are a good way to get to know us. here's what late night at the self-styled artist's colony looks like:
we convened slightly after 10p. I apologized to my elderly dad, while taking the roast out of the oven. Nothing burnt, but I MEANT to be home an hour prior. Got caught up on the phone w/ girlfriend while getting home, comparing dramas while topping off the garbage to go out tomorrow (the garbage cans are their own feature of this drama...)
E the architect/sculptor came into kitchen, I offered him some roast. He took a plate, wandered out again. Three more roommate entered shortly after: the dancer and the pianist to raid the fridge, have some late supper, the actor to be social. We start going at it. Fun. Soon E returns, L the 2d artist joins us. E and L and I are the recently-formed Chair Committee, and E and L began to work on committee issues.
L, senior in age to me, and desirous of comfortable seating, maintains that the kitchen chairs suck. Well, they do. But, they were free, and her willingness to fund replacements and find something more aesthetically and ergonomically pleasing is the only reason I'm willing to consider others. E's a true design geek, so he belongs on the committee: frees me RIGHT up on some selection issues. yay.
Meanwhile, house staffing issues are at the fore. We're choosing between a couple people to work with my dad. Hilarious perjorative monikers were coined, the virtues and vices (namely, chewing tobacco...) of the two individuals were back 'n' forthed on. It was heartening. Dad got into and out of the bathroom to brush his teeth, was rolled back into the kitchen (in his executive office chair... and mis-matched pjs...) and we let 'em know the house has been discussing this pressing concern. He had his own clear opinions - good. i think we can live with our options, here, all of us. a big relief to me, after an ardous couple months. After this last guy, chewing tobacco (and SWALLOWING!) while being interviewed.... i am so over the whole interview process, at all, at all. This is wonderfully colorful, and I clearly have enough material for a book, but I really don't need to collect any more.
Ask me about the Bhutanese caregiver with the same name as the olympic archer. whoo.
Dad's falling asleep to the classical station again, one of us has gone off to bed, the rest of us have finished the popcorn, opined that the current caregiver has thrown away our Netflix list and we need to write another roommate email and ask what happened to our big tv. He works on TVs, he probably gave it away to someone. Gotta find out.
but, we're well entertained, regardless.
we convened slightly after 10p. I apologized to my elderly dad, while taking the roast out of the oven. Nothing burnt, but I MEANT to be home an hour prior. Got caught up on the phone w/ girlfriend while getting home, comparing dramas while topping off the garbage to go out tomorrow (the garbage cans are their own feature of this drama...)
E the architect/sculptor came into kitchen, I offered him some roast. He took a plate, wandered out again. Three more roommate entered shortly after: the dancer and the pianist to raid the fridge, have some late supper, the actor to be social. We start going at it. Fun. Soon E returns, L the 2d artist joins us. E and L and I are the recently-formed Chair Committee, and E and L began to work on committee issues.
L, senior in age to me, and desirous of comfortable seating, maintains that the kitchen chairs suck. Well, they do. But, they were free, and her willingness to fund replacements and find something more aesthetically and ergonomically pleasing is the only reason I'm willing to consider others. E's a true design geek, so he belongs on the committee: frees me RIGHT up on some selection issues. yay.
Meanwhile, house staffing issues are at the fore. We're choosing between a couple people to work with my dad. Hilarious perjorative monikers were coined, the virtues and vices (namely, chewing tobacco...) of the two individuals were back 'n' forthed on. It was heartening. Dad got into and out of the bathroom to brush his teeth, was rolled back into the kitchen (in his executive office chair... and mis-matched pjs...) and we let 'em know the house has been discussing this pressing concern. He had his own clear opinions - good. i think we can live with our options, here, all of us. a big relief to me, after an ardous couple months. After this last guy, chewing tobacco (and SWALLOWING!) while being interviewed.... i am so over the whole interview process, at all, at all. This is wonderfully colorful, and I clearly have enough material for a book, but I really don't need to collect any more.
Ask me about the Bhutanese caregiver with the same name as the olympic archer. whoo.
Dad's falling asleep to the classical station again, one of us has gone off to bed, the rest of us have finished the popcorn, opined that the current caregiver has thrown away our Netflix list and we need to write another roommate email and ask what happened to our big tv. He works on TVs, he probably gave it away to someone. Gotta find out.
but, we're well entertained, regardless.
Christmas Redux
boy, it's fine when christmas comes twice a year.
not very far apart, not much hoopla'd
requires Russian champagne, chocolates, candles
we wouldn't have it any other way.
Oleg entered, we found each other, lit
candles, assembled, cork popped, more cheer, jokes
the Chekhov-level cinema briefed on
(russians have bigger souls, you know that, right?)
Now another roommate, no bubbly left
Now still another, he'll come 'talk', even
without the slav-requisit alcohol
depth to sound on this holiday, observed.
do they watch movies on christmas back home?
we didn't ask host. we ate our borscht.
we drank his wine, had bon bons foisted on.
we're looking forward to the New Year, now.
not very far apart, not much hoopla'd
requires Russian champagne, chocolates, candles
we wouldn't have it any other way.
Oleg entered, we found each other, lit
candles, assembled, cork popped, more cheer, jokes
the Chekhov-level cinema briefed on
(russians have bigger souls, you know that, right?)
Now another roommate, no bubbly left
Now still another, he'll come 'talk', even
without the slav-requisit alcohol
depth to sound on this holiday, observed.
do they watch movies on christmas back home?
we didn't ask host. we ate our borscht.
we drank his wine, had bon bons foisted on.
we're looking forward to the New Year, now.
An Honor and a Delight
I would like to offer a toast to this house, to the wonder that abounds within its three purple and one white wall. Being the youngest (and definetly least worldly) of this group is quite an honor in that I am reminded gently that I still have so much to see; the banter, though frequently over my head, is neither pretentious nor exclusive. Living (or should I say storing my stuff) with a group of artists and getting to enjoy personalities you don't find in freshwater ecology is, well, really damn refreshing. There aren't many octogenarians in roller chairs out on the river. So, a toast from the parlor (or maybe not the parlor...). To toast, bicycles, and freezer space.-RLF
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
open invite
We want to keep the vibe here, of this house -
The whole damn town came through, in Sandy's reign!
If you've attended parties here, or dined -
We'd like to hear from you, it's all the same.
The tow-truck driver who deposited
me home again, he'd been here entertained.
The looks of recognition and delight
Make one like task of opening front door.
We take all comers, story time! Let's go!
Possums, racoons, mayoral visits, all.
We'll swap our tales of neighborhood alike
We seek anecdotes, fellow raconteurs.
Let's get things down and send 'em 'round to share
We'll love to learn of what's occured, right here
The whole damn town came through, in Sandy's reign!
If you've attended parties here, or dined -
We'd like to hear from you, it's all the same.
The tow-truck driver who deposited
me home again, he'd been here entertained.
The looks of recognition and delight
Make one like task of opening front door.
We take all comers, story time! Let's go!
Possums, racoons, mayoral visits, all.
We'll swap our tales of neighborhood alike
We seek anecdotes, fellow raconteurs.
Let's get things down and send 'em 'round to share
We'll love to learn of what's occured, right here
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