Bus stop

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Handwritten page of a diary dated Sept. 22, 1990

… knew if we couldn’t scrounge some quarters off someone, we weren’t going to get Lindsey on the bus in time to make it over to play practice on time. Why didn’t she think of this when she was counting all our money to see if we had enough for her to buy the beaded hat at the thrift store?

There’s a total of exactly one guy within a block of the bus stop, and he’s sitting there sound asleep.

I go “He looks like Death’s daddy.”

She goes “Who is Beth?”

I go “I didn’t say he looks like BETH’S daddy. I said he looks like DEATH’S daddy.”

The sleeping guy heard us and woke up. He looked less scary when he was awake, but still, I was not so happy with Lindsey when she said this: “Sir, if you’ll give me the money for a bus ride, my friend will sit here and have a nice conversation with you for half an hour” Then she looked over and saw that I was mad, so she goes “OK, no 20 minutes. She will talk to you for 20 minutes about anything …  but keep it clean because she took judo lessons.” (I didn’t)

After Lindsey rides away, he smiles. Then he goes “I’m not going to insist that you stay here with Death’s Daddy.”

I kind of mumbled that I was sorry for calling him that, and he goes “Actually, that’s quite an interesting turn of phrase. Are you a poet?”

I go “Most of the poets I know are kind of … gloomy.”

He goes “The Traveling Wilburys aren’t gloomy at all.”

He had to explain to me who they were (except I already knew about everything there is to know about Bob Dylan from my grandma) and somehow “Death’s Daddy” ended up convincing me that I should try my hand as a writer of song lyrics. Which is a good idea, proved by the fact that I got a pretty good start on a song thought up in my head while I walked home.

__________________________

Original image:
https://pixabay.com/en/grandfather-old-aged-sleep-resting-14446/
Published in: on May 3, 2016 at 3:54 am  Leave a Comment  

Hillary and Di

princess Diana w:Hillary

Handwritten page of a diary dated August 30, 1997

…  “it’s so good to see Princess Diana happy again lately, don’t you think?”

I had almost fallen asleep and her voice startled me, but she is my boyfriend’s mother so I pulled it together and said “Sure, who doesn’t want that?”

When Luke invited me on this vacation, he forgot to tell me about the sleeping situation at their lake house. I didn’t know I’d have to choose between a twin bed in his sister Danielle’s room or a twin bed in his mother’s room. Before I committed one way or the other, I spent a little time with Danielle in her room. I was in there a total of 20 minutes and she managed to play the song “Mmm Bop” three times plus tell me her theory that even though Taylor is the cutest one now (and closer to her age) she thinks she would rather marry Zac. She says she can just look at their faces and know that Zac will be more handsome as an adult.

That’s when I chose the bed in Luke’s mom’s room instead. At first it seemed like I’d made the right decision. Until I knew it was going to be a sleepless slumber party night with a Princess Diana theme.

The second time I almost fell asleep his mom said “I saw a picture in a magazine of Princess Di with Hillary Clinton. Now don’t get me wrong, I like Hillary and it’s fun to have a First Lady who is smart enough to be president herself. And Hillary is pretty too. BUT when she was sitting there in that picture, she looked like it was a charisma contest and she knew she was losing. Hillary should’ve just relaxed and realized that NOBODY is going to win a charisma contest against Princess Diana. When Princess Di is 100 years and has thinning hair and curled up fingers, she’ll still be the most dazzling woman in any room.”

__________________________

Original image:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diana,_Princess_of_Wales

Not like Grandma’s

chef boy ar dee

Handwritten page of a diary dated September 10, 1961

… was getting dragged to Grandma’s house every Sunday but it was worth it (even though I know too many Louis Prima songs by heart now) because Grandma is the best cook in this world. Or even if Yuri Gagarin discovers another world, it won’t have a better cook. Grandma was born in Italy and I guess that’s where she learned a thing or two about tomatoes and basil. So we had the kind of Italian food that you can’t even get if you pay big moolah to eat downtown at Guiseppe’s Pasta Italiano. In fact I always dreamed that instead of getting a real job some day I would live my own La Dolce Vita by bottling Grandma’s sauce and hiring a crack team of salesmen to hock it to grocery stores.

But today Grandma brought a plate of raviolis to the table and everyone could tell they looked different. But looking different was only the start. These things tasted like bad news. So Dad asked where they came from, and he laid it on her about as nice as anyone coulda. Then Grandma says they came from a can!! She saw it in a magazine and thought how much easier it would be if she let Chef Boy-Ar-Dee do all the hard work. They promised it was “authentic.”

Man oh man, far as I’m concerned, Grandma’s house is now officially Nowheresville.

__________________________

Original image:
https://www.flickr.com/photos/29069717@N02/14191575977/in/photostream/
Published in: on March 14, 2016 at 3:42 am  Leave a Comment  

Vintage selfies

Selfie-Pictures-Camera-Hobby-Free-Image-Mirror-Pho-5304

Handwritten page of a diary dated November 3, 1978

… because when I was 12 and starting to get interested in music, she bought me a new Doors album and we both learned the words to “L.A. Woman.” We sang it (LOUD) when I got to stay overnight at her apartment, which was as often as I could finagle since she was my cool aunt and not my boring mom.

Then she got married to a guy and moved to Milwaukee with him. I barely saw her for seven years.

SHOCKINGLY last weekend she showed up and asked Mom if she could crash in the guest room a while. I thought “Oh, this could be fun” which proved to be wrong the minute I knocked on her door and she was playing a tape of “Dancing Queen” by Abba! What happened to her great musical taste? And she has part of her hair feathered like Farrah Fawcett-Majors. So uncool.

And speaking of uncool, she takes pictures of herself in the mirror. Constantly. OK, not constantly, but at least once a day!!!!! What a huge waste of time. She admitted she’s spending a lot of money on getting film developed, but she doesn’t care. It’s hard to even imagine someone taking so many pictures of themSELVES!!!!

__________________________

Original image:
http://www.pixcove.com/tag/selfie/

Polynesian destiny

tiki restaraunt new orleans 1950s

Handwritten page of a diary dated April 24, 1958

… never thought a restaurant could change my whole life, but now I understand how I was meant to live.

Mother almost didn’t let me go because she hardly knows my uncle. My father died when I was little and she only met this brother once. Lucky for me I convinced her that a responsible 16-year-old will be fine eating dinner with her uncle from out of town.

I’ve never seen anything like this place before. I was sitting in a wicker chair that looked like a throne and looking around at waitresses wearing sarongs and grass skirts. And palm plants with giant leaves. And paintings of scantily clad men and women on beaches. And bowls overflowing with tropical flowers. I was cooking little chunks of meat on a stick by holding them over a little fire in a metal container on our table. My fruit drink was served in a porcelain coconut with pineapple chunks and bright red cherries floating around in it.

It was swell to meet my uncle and be able to ask questions about my father. But it was like a special gift to learn that I will need to have a lot of money some day so I can move to a Polynesian Island. That’s where I will feel the most comfortable. Now I’m sure of it.                 

__________________________

Original image:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tiki_culture
Published in: on February 22, 2016 at 4:02 am  Leave a Comment  

Owls on the porch

Macrame_Owls

Handwritten page of a diary dated June 2, 1976

… so it turned out to be a perfect excuse not to work this summer. Just lay around at Mom’s house and do almost nothing except eat her cooking and watch movies on her Betamax player. Because then it’s back to college for one more year and then the real world and that means a serious forever kind of job. I shudder at the thought.

I got home too late for dinner last night, so poor Mom hasn’t even had the pleasure of cooking for me yet. I woke up and went looking for her, hoping to talk her into making blueberry waffles. That’s when I saw them on the porch — not one dorky owl. FIVE DORKY OWLS IN A ROW. Huh?

I heard music coming from the den, and that’s where I find her listening to a cassette of “Royal Scam.” So if she’s cool enough to buy the new Steely Dan, why is she tying rope and beads together and making a sixth dorky owl? She didn’t even want to stop doing the dorky macrame for a while and fix waffles.

So confusing.

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Original image:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Macram%C3%A9
Published in: on February 17, 2016 at 3:14 am  Comments (1)  

Does Grandma hate me?

pexels-photo

Handwritten page of a diary dated August 3, 1974

… knocked the sandcastle down because I thought Randy built it. Randy said “No man, Grandma built it and she went to the car to get a camera to take a picture of it.”

I really wished I hadn’ta done it, but I was not all the way worried because Grandma’s never been mad about anything ever. Even when we were playing kickball in her garage and knocked over a pile of plant pots. All she did was worry that we hadn’t gotten cut on any of the broken pieces.

This time though, she gave me this look which felt like jagged alien laser beams of cold mean hate. Really before today I thought Grandma was kind of pretty but when she was all of a sudden not smiling I noticed something I never saw before and that is that her face looks pretty old.

I remembered I brought my Big Chief writing tablet to use in case I got sunburned and had to sit under the umbrella. So I found it and wrote this letter:

Dear Grandma:

Randy and I wreck each other’s stuff all the time and I thought he made that sandcastle. Really I shoulda known it hadn’t been made by him because it was one of the most nice ones I ever saw. If you would forgive me I will do any of these things you want:

1. If you want to rebuild the sandcastle. I will bring you water from the lake whenever you need it to pack the sand tighter and help you in any other way including using my popsicle money to get you a cold drink.

2. Stay over at your house on Thursday night and watch “The Walton’s” with you.

3. Ride my bike to that store where they have the cans of very small tiny little oranges so you can teach me how to make that Jello salad we like (the one without cottage cheese in it) (but if it would make you love me again I’ll eat cottage cheese)

She read it and she smiled again!!!!!! She said “Horsefeathers, I never stopped loving you. Now let’s get to work.”

__________________________

Original image:
https://static.pexels.com/photos/26477/pexels-photo.jpg
Published in: on February 5, 2016 at 8:03 pm  Leave a Comment  

Rated X

250px-RWelch2

Handwritten page of a diary dated July 3, 1970

… guy named Tim. His parents own the movie theater downtown. I only talked to him once at school. About six months ago. But I told him I was really curious to see an X-rated movie sometime and I didn’t want to wait three more years till I was legally old enough. He said sure, he saw a few earlier this year. Easy. Then last week he came up to me after History and said “Myra Breckenridge” is coming. I hadn’t even heard of that movie but he assured me it’s rated X. So I said OK and he said he would let me in the alley door at 8 p.m. on Friday. Which is tonight.

I was nervous before it was time to walk downtown so I played the 45 I just bought “The Long and Winding Road” a few times and then I turned it over and played the B side called “For you Blue” which might actually be a better song if you ask me. Then I put it on again and got my tap shoes out and started making up this routine to it and before you know it, it was time to go.

If only I had just chickened out and stayed home tap dancing and listening to records I might not be a nervous wreck right now. I saw that movie and now I think I might be scarred for life. I nervously talked to Tim a few minutes out in the alley when it was over. I said maybe some day I might ask him a few questions because there was a lot I didn’t understand and he said he couldn’t be too much help because this wasn’t like the other X-rated movies he’s seen. I said OK. Then I high-tailed it out of there.

I’m 15 years old and my sex life is already over because I don’t think I can handle all the complicated things going on out there in the ADULT WORLD.

Original image:
https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/hu/thumb/8/88/RWelch2.jpg/250px-RWelch2.jpg
Published in: on February 1, 2016 at 2:32 am  Comments (2)  

Will I be a redhead?

backs of three redheaded teenage girls

Handwritten page of a diary dated March 2, 2004

… need to get control of this stupid game my brain is playing.

It started out really small, like OK,  I was watching “West Wing” with my mom, and all of a sudden I thought, if she gets up and makes popcorn during a commercial I’m going to stand up and yodel when she brings it back. And she did. And I did. And she said “You’re weird.”

Then last month I was watching the Grammy awards and there was a marching band on the stage when Outkast sang “Hey Ya” and the minute I heard “Shake it like a Polaroid picture” I was dancing around the room. Then the doorbell rang and I said to myself “if it’s Zach, coming to visit me, I’m going to kiss him right there in the doorway.” That was scary because I’m not even sure if he’s into me (in that way) and I was BOTH relieved and disappointed when the person at the door was just one of my sister’s annoying friends instead of Zach.

But even that wasn’t as scary as tonight. I was out walking around today and when I stopped to look at my phone, I noticed I was standing behind these 3 girls with red hair. And I thought: if one of them turns around I’m going to dye my hair red. AND TWO OF THEM TURNED AROUND AND LOOKED AT ME. So I went to the drug store and bought some bright red dye and now I’m sitting here reading the instructions. I wish someone was here to talk me out of it. OK if someone calls or texts me in the next 10 mintues, I won’t dye my hair. Otherwise I kinda have to.

__________________________

Original image:
http://mamacongo.blogspot.com/2012_06_01_archive.html
Published in: on January 30, 2016 at 3:41 am  Comments (1)  

RIP Steve Jobs

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Handwritten page of a diary dated October 5, 2011

… tried to go to sleep, but I keep thinking it. I don’t even want to write it down. OK I will — Steve Jobs died today.

About an hour ago, even though it was late, I called Uncle Billy. He didn’t own one of the original Apples, but in 1984 he did buy the very first McIntosh anyone could buy. He and I are the only ones in our family who like Macs instead of PCs. My dad says that means Uncle Billy and I are on the same wavelength, which of course anyone coulda already figured out if they were paying attention.

Uncle Billy is the only really old person I know very well. He and Steve Jobs were born on the exact same day and I came right out during that phone call to say it makes me kind of worried about whether I should start preparing myself to lose him too one of these days. He said no, no, Steve Jobs didn’t eat a balanced diet and had way too much stress in his life which caused him to get sick. He said hardly anyone dies when they’re only 56.

All of a sudden I remembered that only yesterday Uncle Billy had taken his iMac in to the Genius Bar to get looked at. I told him this: “Your computer gets to mourn Steve Jobs with all his Apple brothers and sisters on the repair shelves tonight.” He told me this: “Hey yeah, maybe they’re having a memorial service. They can get online and play some music and find some poems about the angels taking a loved one to a better place.”

Yes I am aware that I’m lucky to have somebody to talk with about weird ideas.

__________________________

Original image:
https://www.flickr.com/photos/marthinshl/7263883898
Published in: on January 25, 2016 at 2:39 pm  Leave a Comment  
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