Grilled Cheese and Shake

PROFESSOR SQUIGGLEE ... (Everybody’s doing it these days, right? Multi-tasking: Texting and driving ... driving and enjoying a coffee AND sandwich ... driving and discussing “important stuff” - like where you are, where you’re headed, where you just were - all on the phone ... stuff like that) Well, here’s his definition of multi-tasking: DOING MORE THAN ONE THING ... IN THE SAME DAY.


-S&G- 


“I want to apologize,” begins an e-mail from LOREE, Kansas.


For what? I’m wondering.


She continues: “ ... for the verbal beating I gave you last week.”


Oh, that.


Then she shifts gears slightly: “But I can’t honestly say it was uncalled for. And if that alone helped secure, in any small way at all, Little Red’s (that’s The Little Red Car, to the rest of you) presence at Brimm Manor, then it was not in vain! Poor thing! It needed someone to go to bat for it, and we both hope (Little Red and myself) that you got cold feet and chickened out.”


-S&G-


Well, Loree, we (bawk-bawk-bawk) haven’t exactly chickened out about maybe-perhaps-possibly trading in Little Red for something with less mileage on it ... but, as we speak, Little Red is still safely enthroned in its favorite spot here at Brimm Manor. 


Oh, it still surprises us ... startles might be a better word ... by flashing various warning lights on the dash ... but it still runs like a dream, and still gets us there and ... usually ... back home, too


-S&G-. 


TODAY’S QUOTE: “Energy is the essence of life. Every day you decide how you’re going to use it by knowing what you want and what it takes to reach that goal, and by maintaining focus.” - Oprah Winfrey


-S&G-


Why is it? ... that no plastic bag will open from the end on your first try? - courtesy of WALT, Ohio


-S&G-


This from HELEN, Florida ... A little girl was diligently pounding away on her grandfather’s word processor. She told him she was writing a story.


“What’s it about?” he asked.


“I don’t know,” she replied. “I can’t read.”


-S&G-


Loree, some of you may recall, lived on a farm. Then she moved to the city, but she didn’t lose her love for making things grow.


So she ordered some Mammoth Mums from Burpee Gardens, which she describes as a great place to buy outstanding quality plants. That was about the middle of September. Planned delivery was on September 23.


That day came an went. Nothing. The next day Loree received confirmation that delivery had been made. Not to MY porch, Loree knew. 


She called Burpee a few days later, gave them her sad story, and asked if she could reorder. No need for that, she was told, they’d just replace the order.


A few days later Loree got a shipping confirmation on the new order, with a planned delivery date. She made sure she didn’t leave the house all that day. In fact, she took a seat with a perfect view of the front porch. No delivery. Next day, though, she got “confirmation of delivery” from UPS.


She called UPS, pointed out that she hadn’t received delivery and ... well, sorta gave them what-for.  


Then she called Burpee again ... talked to the same lady as before ... was put on hold for a few minutes ... then was told that it appeared her order had been delivered to Loree’s OLD address.


Another phone call ... this time to the lady who had bought Loree’s place in the country. Sure enough, the package HAD been delivered there ... but the lady didn’t seem to know about the earlier delivery ... and Loree couldn’t help wondering why the lady hadn’t called to tell her the package had been delivered THERE. 


Her response: “I don’t have TIME to make phone calls!”


But she did find time to deliver the package to a place in town where Loree could pick it up. 


Loree then discovered that it had been OPENED. Apparently the contents were still intact, but Loree couldn’t help wondering what had happened to the contents of the first package.


Anyway, “The poor little plants, quite the worse for their ordeal, are now recovering in ICU here at my house ... I carefully re-potted them, gave them fluids, and they are in my greenhouse, until they get their strength (some growth) back!”


-S&G-


OH, and there was a sort of P.S. to Loree’s note: “If my greenhouse were bigger, I’d have you send Little Red to me ... even by UPS!”


-S&G-


TODAY'S POEM: It took me a long time to get through college, and it wasn't because I was a slow learner.


I didn't have any money. That, of course, delayed the start.


Even after a bit of military service, I still didn't have any money to speak of. But that's another story.


Let's just say I was finally in college ... and on a budget.


Oh, I had a place to sleep, a rented room, and I had a couple of places where I could grab a bite to eat at a reasonable price. The fact that I was a breakfast skipper helped the bottom line, too.


I fell into the habit of eating at those few chosen places regularly, and the people on the other side of the counter soon knew what I'd have, even before I announced it.


Ah, those were the days.


The poem:


GRILLED CHEESE AND SHAKE


Betty knew her customers
down at the Lunch Box
Cafe, where conversations
slid to the back burner
when hulking trains
came lurching past.


I'd walk in, starved,
as skinny as a snake,
and she’d toss two slices
of buttered Bunny Bread
and a thin slice of cheese
into the smoke rising
from the grill, power up
a blender, add a squirt
of strawberry flavoring
to a prospective shake.


I'd straddle my favorite
wobbly stool, sit savoring
the smoke, anticipating
that last surreptitious slurp,
its sweet, sticky essence,
sit watching Betty at work,
marveling at her memory,
how cool she was when
the orders piled up,


how she knew when to turn
the sandwiches, snatching
them back from disaster,
wondering if she knew how
those skinny sandwiches
and thick, frothy shakes
were snatching me back, too.


(originally published in A New Song)

-S&G-


COMMENT? Feel free ... below, if you like. 


Or if you prefer e-mail, that's fine, too ... especially for more detailed observations, to


 rbrimm@peoplepc.com


... and it helps if you put "Squiggles" or "S&G" ... something like that ... in the subject line (just remember, no religion or politics ... please!)


-S&G-


If you’d like to see what’s up with my other, DAILY blog (no, this is not my “Home Page”),  here’s a link to it:


http://rbrimm.blogspot.com/


Thanks for paying a visit.


-S&G-


UNTIL NEXT TIME ... take care ... see ya!


-S&G-


©  2010

Cold Winter Nights

Remember the good ol’ ... Saturday ... days?  


There was usually a western on the movie screen at the theater in town ... and, best of all, another installment of the “serial” ... that continuing adventure ... in short takes which always ended with the hero about to go off the cliff ... or about to be hit by a rumbling freight train ...


Oh, how I looked forward to seeing those. I guess I always knew the hero would escape somehow ... there were lots more “chapters” to come ... but I looked forward to seeing if he did, and how he did it this time.  


I couldn’t help thinking about that as I started on this week’s installment of “Squiggles.” 


-S&G-


But this first: The coveted magical, mystical, mythical GOLD STAR goes to LOREE, Kansas, for being the first to respond to last week’s posting ... about, you may recall, our thinking ... just thinking, mind you ... about, well, maybe ... putting The Little Red Car out to pasture ... and getting a younger, but slightly used, replacement.


-S&G-


LOREE’S E-MAIL BEGINS: Now, how do I tell you this ... since I want to be honest, yet tactful in doing so?


First of all, I am mad as an old setting hen, disturbed by what I see, hear, and in my case, read.  I guess there is no way to make this painless, so let me be blunt ... 


AND CONTINUES:


How DARE you think of replacing Little Red!  That is totally unthinkable, considering the way she has been there for you, made your trips possible, and yes, being blunt, PUT UP WITH YOU!!


You appear ungrateful ... uncaring ... as you SNEAK AROUND and chomp at the bit for a new car!  Shame on you!  Nuff said ... but just wanted you to know how I felt about that idea ... not a good one at all, and I thought more of you! 


(Just kidding, for when did a man ever listen to a woman's GOOD ADVICE?!  Practically NEVER!  Oh I know ... the old excuse that a 'man's got to do what a man's got to do!'  Well, I never did buy into that one, and still don't:-)  Gee, if I don't watch out, I'll be upset all over again!)


-S&G-


AND CONCLUDES: Have a good one Bob, and you do know I was teasing you about the car, I hope.  Actually, it may be time to retire The Little Red Car ... as much as I'll miss her adventures!   – Loree.


-S&G-


AH, BUT THEN there was sort of a post script which I found delightful, too: “Since I wrote my e-mail to you earlier today, I had a brainstorm, and I am planning a ‘march’ (rally) to show support for Little Red. So far I have three signed up to take part in it ... myself and my two dogs! Hey, it’s a start anyway! And I figured if there were any way to impress you at all, that ought to do it. See you next week ... Loree.”


-S&G-

WHAT CAN I SAY? I never thought there would be such a reaction to the idea of turning loose of Little Red. 


True, we have had a lot of adventures ... good times and bad ... with Little Red. And it’s true, too, that Little Red has put up with a lot from me (I’ll spare you the details of that ... and I’m hoping Little Red won’t talk about it, either). 


But I guess my tactics did seem a little sneaky ... partly because I didn’t want to hurt Little Red’s feelings about maybe being traded in ... and partly because Little Red has entered those difficult teen years (you know how teens react to situations sometimes).


Rest assured, however, Little Red, as we speak, is still with us ... in fact, is loafing ... waiting patiently ... in the driveway right now, for Phyllis to slide in behind the wheel, flick on the lights ... and steer toward the garage.


We’ll keep you posted as major ... or minor ... developments occur ... like the next "chapter" in the Saturday serial. 

-S&G-


TODAY’S QUOTE: “Energy and persistence conquer all things.” - Benjamin Franklin


-S&G-


WHY, WHY? ... Why does Superman stop bullets with his chest, but ducks when you throw a revolver at him? (courtesy of WALT, Ohio)


-S&G-


THIS courtesy of HELEN, Florida ... A grandfather was delivering his grandchildren to their home one day when a fire truck zoomed past. Sitting in the front seat was a Dalmatian dog. The children started discussing the dog’s duties.


“They use him to keep crowds back,” said one child.


“No,” said another. “He’s just for good luck.”


A third brought the argument to a close. “They use the dogs,” she said firmly, “to find the fire hydrants.”


-S&G-


PROFESSOR SQUIGGLEE: I’ve sometimes thought that we should replace STOP signs with ROLL ON THROUGH signs, since that’s what most drivers seem to do ... but somebody would probably get rear-ended because they’d stopped ... actually STOPPED ... to read one of the new signs and figure out what it means.


-S&G- 


TODAY’S POEM: I know, I know. It’s too early to be thinking about winter ... especially cold winter nights. But I can’t help it. I’ve already started shivering on these cold autumn mornings.


Just the other day, for example, I participated in an outdoor program in which we set up our easels, folding stools, etc., and got to work painting watercolors of the autumn scenes before us. 


There was a tiny bit of sun peeking through the clouds at the time ... a promise of better/warmer things to come ... but there was also a frisky wind that kept rustling the leaves, threatening to grab pieces of paper that weren’t carefully anchored and fly away with them.


And ... just my own personal opinion, of course ... it was COLD. So cold, in fact, that I believe I heard myself muttering, “Maybe we should be painting with our mittens on.”


But today’s poem isn’t about that. It’s more about writing ... touching on a process that remains something of a mystery to me ... but also reaching the heart of the matter, I think, the satisfaction that comes from putting thoughts on paper.


The poem:




COLD WINTER NIGHTS


I have dreamed
that my poetry
might go like
wildfire lighting
the emptiness
of night, dancing
ahead of the wind,
smoke of creation,
furious burning,
rising to join
the lingering clouds,
drifting, drifting.


Ah, but a smaller
fire it is,
burning within,
chasing nothing
before it, raising
no alarms, warming
only me on these
cold winter nights
with a lamp
keeping me company,
and these scratchings.


(originally published in ByLine)


-S&G-


COMMENT? Feel free ... below, if you like. 


Or if you prefer e-mail, that's fine, too ... especially for more detailed observations, to


 rbrimm@peoplepc.com


... and it helps if you put "Squiggles" or "S&G" ... something like that ... in the subject line (just remember, no religion or politics ... please!)


-S&G-


If you’d like to see what’s up with my other, DAILY blog (no, this is not my “Home Page”),  here’s a link to it:


http://rbrimm.blogspot.com/


Thanks for paying a visit.


-S&G-


UNTIL NEXT TIME ... take care ... see ya!


-S&G-


©  2010

Morning Talk

(Okay, so I got the horizon a little tilted, but I think you get the idea of those river fountains)


It was such a beautiful day! 


We just had to get out and enjoy it ... and it was obvious that The Little Red Car felt the same way. It kicked up its heels and shouted, “Let’s Go!” (figuratively) the minute we walked out the back door and down the steps.


We were hoping it would be sunny ... and a bit warmer ... because we had a watercolor session in the outdoors on our calendar. We had sorta hoped there would be a small group involved, but, as it turned out, only Phyllis and I turned up at the appointed place and time.


We enjoyed walking along the path beside the river ... taking care not to block the passage of bike riders who were out enjoying the day, too. 


We watched the birds swooping and diving toward the mirrored water, felt the sun warming our backs, enjoyed the peaceful quiet.


And our timing was perfect, too. When we were just finishing our walk and arriving at the agreed-on site, the river fountains were going full blast ... framing the skyline of the city ... glistening in the morning sun ... welcoming us, it seemed.


I took a lot of pictures with my handy-dandy little digital camera ... and they should come in handy as bits of reference when the weather turns sour later on, and the snow starts piling up.


I had so much fun snapping various scenes, in fact, that I almost forgot my main mission ... to do some watercolor painting. 


I say ALMOST forgot ... but, in fact, I remembered ... then decided, no, it was such a beautiful day ... I would leave the palette, the easel, the watercolor paper, the little container of water ... all that painting gear ... in the car, and just enjoy the stroll and photo taking.


So I did.


Little Red seemed a little puzzled that I hadn’t come back to unload the trunk, but was still glad to see us, and we were soon off on another mission.


(Please ... please ... please don’t tell Little Red, but the “other mission” was to start looking at cars ... used ones, that is ... hoping to find one that we might someday be able to afford.)


Little Red, understand, has entered those difficult TEEN years ... and has racked up a lot of miles. So there are times when we feel life is an uphill struggle for Little Red, and maybe we should start thinking about ... well, you know ...


Little Red sat patiently while we strolled the used car lot with a sales person who had seen us coming ... and was there to greet us almost before Little Red had settled into a parking place.


We looked at a lot of cars ... and we were struck by one thing in particular: Cars are really expensive!


We looked and looked, and finally found our way back to where Little Red was still waiting. 


And tonight ... while we’re bedded down in the master bedroom of Brimm Manor ... rest assured, Little Red is still with us ... no, not in the master bedroom ... in the main garage.


And I may sleep a bit better, knowing Little Red is still there.


-S&G- 


In between watercolor outings and used-car forays, I’ve been trying to catch up on the stacks ... before they start tumbling again.


Here goes:


This ... I was going to say recently ... but it’s actually been a while since I received it from HELEN, Florida: Seen on a bag of Fritos – You could be a winner! No purchase necessary. Details inside. (The shoplifter special?)


-S&G-


To DAVID, Indiana ... HAPPY BIRTHDAY!


-S&G-


If you were anywhere in the neighborhood of our friend, LOREE, Kansas, recently, you might have seen her perched on a ladder, cleaning all the guttering on her house.


(I find that just a bit scarey ... since I have a strict policy of keeping at least one foot on the ground during any and all outdoor chores)


Anyway, she did it all herself ... well, with a little help from a five-gallon bucket, into which she stuffed leaves, twigs and debris ... upwards of 10 or 12 buckets full. Whew!


Loree adds: “Moved all my plants inside the greenhouse and, naturally, it is warming back up again!” She’d heard there had been light scattered frost out in the country ... and better safe than sorry.


By the way, if you’d like to see one of Loree’s recent creations:


http://www.poetrybyloree.com/446.html


She notes: “The graphic is a photo shot by my son ... he has a good eye :-)” (I’ve seen it, and she’s right about that) 


-S&G-


From RUTH, Ohio: Difference ‘tween North & South: “Remember, ‘Y’all’ is singular, ‘all y’all’ is plural ... and ‘all y’all’s is plural possessive.”


-S&G-


From WALT, Ohio: “Why do people constantly return to the refrigerator with hopes that something new to eat will have materialized?”


-S&G-


TODAY’S QUOTE: “Life engenders life. Energy creates energy. It is by spending oneself that one becomes rich.” - Sarah Bernhardt


-S&G-


TODAY’S POEM - I like to think that poems come to me ... and they will, I've discovered, if I can just sit still in one place long enough.


This one may not have come to me, exactly, but I found the material for it in the tree just outside my window. 




I sat listening to a certain sound, then located its source ... and watched.




From there it was simply a matter of putting my impressions on paper before they ... the impressions, that is ... flew away.




I admit that I found more than just the sights and sounds of a mother-and-daughter exchange between two cardinals to write about.




Before I'd finished, I couldn't resist drawing the parallel between these two beautiful little creatures and the rest of us ... we superior beings who "own" so much of this material world ... and are, perhaps, so bent on possessing more of it ... that we neglect to build little bridges between us ... particularly between the generations.




End of sermon. 




And now, on to the poem:


MORNING TALK


Amid a rising tide of summer sounds,
I slowly become aware of one pair 
catching my ear more than the others.


Then there they are, a mother cardinal
and her offspring, flitting and talking
to each other in the blue spruce.


Talking of food, perhaps, or safety
in these thick boughs, weighty subjects,
or maybe just chit-chat between 


this mother and her young daughter.
I have no way of knowing, but they
seem to have found an understanding,


a quiet accord, like a gently swaying 
footbridge between the generations,
that we humans keep hoping to find.


(originally published in Capper's) 


-S&G-


COMMENT? Feel free ... below, if you like. 


Or if you prefer e-mail, that's fine, too ... especially for more detailed observations, to


 rbrimm@peoplepc.com


... and it helps if you put "Squiggles" or "S&G" ... something like that ... in the subject line (just remember, no religion or politics ... please!)


-S&G-


If you’d like to see what’s up with my other, DAILY blog (no, this is not my “Home Page”),  here’s a link to it:


http://rbrimm.blogspot.com/


Thanks for paying a visit.


-S&G-


UNTIL NEXT TIME ... take care ... see ya!


-S&G-


©  2010

Grandpa Will Getcha

(one of my paintings, "Splash!" ... now in a private collection)


OCTOBER!


Can you believe? Here we are in October. And it seems like only yesterday ... maybe the day before ... that it was still September. How time flies, though, when you travel tourist class, like I do.


One of the reasons, I suppose, is that it has just been party, party ... 


Most recently it was a birthday party for LAUREL, Ohio, who enjoys poetry, relishes sharing it with others ... has a great gift for memorizing and delivering poems ... and regularly opens her home to a small group of poetry lovers. 


Phyllis and I have been privileged to sit in with the group ... and, despite my tendency to share mostly stuff I’ve written myself, we’ve been invited back. And we’ve gone.


But back to the birthday party.


It featured some poems written to honor Laurel on her ... well, on her birthday (and I’m not going to say which one it was). 


Among other items, it featured cupcakes ... and one ... count it, ONE ... candle, which she extinguished with dispatch, after giving a bit of thought to the requisite wish. 


And then we dived in. 


Even I was allowed to indulge, after a fashion. As some of you may know, I was formerly known as The Cake Man. Formerly, that is, because my doctor found out ... based on some tests I took without studying for them ... that sugars are not good for me ... therefore, all my favorite foods were transferred to the DO NOT EAT list. 


Ah, but I did get to have one cupcake, the body of which had no sugar in it. Sadly, though, I had to chop off the icing (formerly akin to a capital offense, as far as I was concerned) ... and then I could gulp down the goodie.


Some weeks prior to this festive occasion at Laurel’s, I had celebrated my own birthday ... and I’m not saying which one that was, either. If you’ve lost count, you’ll just have to ask around, but don’t ask me.


Anyway ... on the occasion of my own birthday, I was presented, not just a cupcake, but a whole cake (Ok, so it wasn’t ALL just for me). 


The big news was that this particular cake was made by our grandson, Thomas, who had arrived with his parents to help me celebrate. He had a little advice, yes, and his Mom gave him a helping hand at one point, but the production ... and it was a beauty ... was basically all his.


AND IT WAS ALL SUGAR-FREE!


Delicious, too. We still have a few slices left, carefully wrapped and frozen ... and I had a nibble just before I sat down to write this. I’m still (pardon me) drooling. In fact, I might just sneak back down to the fridge tonight and ... mmm, see how many pieces are left.


-S&G-


THIS JUST IN ... from HELEN, Florida ... Subject: A Paraprosdokian


“A paraprosdokian is a figure of speech in which the latter part of a sentence or phrase is surprising or unexpected in a way that causes the reader or listener to re-frame or reinterpret the first part.”


For example:


To be sure of hitting the target, shoot first and call whatever you hit the target.


Or:


A bus is a vehicle that runs twice as fast when you are after it as when you are in it.


Or:


Change is inevitable, except from a vending machine.


-S&G-


Courtesy of WALT, Ohio ... "The statistics on sanity is that one out of every four persons is suffering from some sort of mental illness. Think of your three best friends - If they’re okay, then it’s you."


-S&G-


TODAY’S QUOTE: “We could certainly slow the aging process down if it had to work its way through Congress.” - Will Rogers (courtesy of WALT, Ohio)


-S&G-


TODAY’S POEM ... Okay, maybe I'm rushing the season a bit ... or maybe I'm late ... or maybe I'm a bit confused (so what else is new?) ... I seem to be bumping into a lot of pumpkins these days ... but I'm also seeing what I would consider Christmas items on display in some of the stores.


We are approaching Halloween, aren't we?


One of these years, I suppose, all of the designated commercial holidays will be combined into one giant celebration ... taking up a whole week ... or maybe a whole month ... or how about the entire year?


Be that as it may ... this poem, based on an early frightening experience, is further evidence of why I write very few rhyming poems – and perhaps shouldn't attempt any. 




I keep telling friends and fellow writers that I find it very difficult to advance the story line while maintaining even a semblance of meter and rhyme. It's true. So true. 


To borrow a phrase, it's hard work. Really hard work.




But, with much labor in this instance, the dirty deed was done. The poem was sent out to mingle with strangers, found a friend at one magazine, and was published.


The poem:




GRANDPA WILL GETCHA


It was a dark Halloween night
With nary a goblin in sight,
No place to go, nothin' to do.
Where to turn, I hadn't a clue.


But wait! My brain just clicked on:
SOAP A FEW WINDOWS flicked on,
And quickly it was bar to pane,
Making abstract strokes, in the main.


Then, looking in, what did I see?
My Grandpa, looking out at me.
No little smile did he bestow
As he swiftly took me in tow.


So with a pail and a wet sponge
My fine art I had to expunge
Till the windows were far cleaner
Than they had been. My demeanor?


Subdued now. A tad smarter, too:
Soaping our own was dumb, it's true,
And getting caught was SO SCARY
The next time I was more wary.

(originally published in Parnassus Literary Journal)


-S&G-


COMMENT? Feel free ... below, if you like. 


Or if you prefer e-mail, that's fine, too ... especially for more detailed observations, to


 rbrimm@peoplepc.com


... and it helps if you put "Squiggles" or "S&G" ... something like that ... in the subject line (just remember, no religion or politics ... please!)


-S&G-


If you’d like to see what’s up with my other, DAILY blog (no, this is not my “Home Page”),  here’s a link to it:


http://rbrimm.blogspot.com/


Thanks for paying a visit.


-S&G-


UNTIL NEXT TIME ... take care ... see ya!


-S&G-


©  2010