Wednesday, March 27, 2013

DEFENESTRATING THE HOMETOWN

For the baffled, the big word at the beginning means, "the act of throwing something out of a window".
     After all, it's what we've done. It took over forty years, but now Lorain is as soulless as that morning fish-wrap some of you still pay for the dubious privilege of reading.

     Thank Jehovah I'm not there-I'd probably be dropping quarters into a slot at the Nord Center.
I'm not blameless....I could' ve stayed, and fought the rot, at least dropped a few dimes on the crack dealers, but my head was unraveling like a cheap sweater at the time, so I left, and became just another Cleveland Cadaver.

     Now, the sub-human purveyors of poison both pharmaceutical  and auditory have taken over the streets I used to lovingly wander, while much of the populace lock-skips to work, chanting the mantra,
     "BEDROOM COMMUNITY OF CLEVELAND, YAY! BEDROOM COMMUNITY OF CLEVELAND, YAY!"

     Would that our town were haunted, that her ghosts might rise in a congregational scream of outrage, and frighten away all the pimps of so-called "progress".

     That's all, move on....nothing to see here.

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

THE GLIDER

     "Have a seat", said Miss Rose, as we stood on the porch, before the glider
"right here is where I saw it."
"It was sitting on the glider?" "No, silly", she said, a laugh in her voice, "it was out there, on the front lawn; that's the only time I ever saw it."

Miss Rose was a retired teacher, having spent thirty-four years teaching First Grade at Alsase Elementary. I'd been one of her students, back in those long-ago days when a man named John told all of us that we could be anything we wished to be, a message she'd echoed in her class. When I was free, I sometimes dropped by to see how she was, and drink her lemonade, which I first tasted in her class. Now, twenty years after retiring, she spent her hours with her cat, her memories, and it seemed....a ghost.

"I first noticed it about three weeks after I moved in here", she said, "when the house was left to me, about thirty years ago- a strange feeling of being watched, if I sat out here around dusk. It got stronger as it got darker, until I cauld almost tell exactly where "it" was.

    "Did it ever show up in the house?" I asked.
"Never....just out here. Not indoors, or in the back, just around the front yard. 

     "Sometimes, I  hear the sound of footsteps coming up the walk, mixed with a tapping sound, like a cane or walking-stick.If  Zander (her tomcat) is outside, he'll walk alongside "it", looking up periodically, as if wanting to  be picked up."

     Tell me about when you saw it".

     "It  was about a month ago, the first really warm night we'd had this year. As I was looking toward the street, I caught something to my right....as I turned, I could see a shadow, darker than the lawn, right where I showed you. It was as tall as a man, standing very still, just gazing at me, neither moving or speaking.

     "I wasn't afraid, although there was a strange sense of....longing, as if it wanted to come up, and join me on the glider, but was prevented somehow. After a few moments, it faded away."

     "Have you seen it since", I enquired. "No," said Miss Rose, no sound or presence, either. "Thing is," she said, "I've got the feeling it's not gone, nor is this over-just a feeling", said she as she reached for the pitcher, "that it's waiting for something."

     The next time I saw Miss Rose was in the Viewing Room at Garbold and Sons, made up, her hair neatly done, lying very still in a satin-lined box.

     Make of it what you will.                  j

Thursday, February 14, 2013

RUMINATIONS, ETC.

     I was wandering past the site, and I realized I hadn't posted anything in a bit....so,

I decided to toss in a few things, maunderings, ruminations, if you will.

I want a mile-high corned beef sandwich, and I want it NOW. Unfortunately, the library doesn't sell them, I'm broke anyhow, and by the time I scraped together the dough, I'd want something else. Besides, I dunno if they sell them here in Whitney.

Why izzit that most women who find you cute wait 'til AFTER you're married to notice?

I want a bike, which I can't ride anymore.

Are people in Government really that stupid?


One of my favorite pieces....just wanted to share it again.

I love being married; it's a much bigger adventure than I would've thought.

There are no ugly women, only ugly personalities.

From everything I've seen, homosexuals can get every right they're complaining they want, so why alter the institution of marriage?

Thank God for dogs.

The AARP is really COBRA-call in G.I.JOE!

Music died around 1989; it began to choke on its own vomit about 1975.


     The picture of Carla Ossa was purely gratuitous.

Monday, January 28, 2013

STUFF YOU CAN'T FIND ANYMORE

     This may be seen as lazy, but this IS primarily
 
about nostalgia, so here'tis....

     Cute, braless girls
Dollar movie night
The milkman (Lorain Creamery!)
The breadman (Home Pride!)
Drag racing on West Erie
Al and his daughters at Lakeview Park
Record stores, with loudspeakers out front
Vonda
L&K Restaurants
WNCR, WLYT, WGCL, CKLW
The Fox Inn
Lunch counters
Teddy
Lincoln Park
Johnny Dixon's
Friar Tuck's
Alan Funwell

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

DEJA VU ALL OVER AGAIN

       Happy New Year to all.
I guess you could call this a rant, if you must call it anything.

     I just got back in circuation again, after being stuck in my apartment for almost a week, confined to a wheel chair. If this sounds familiar, it's because this isn't the first time I've put myself into this mess.

     I still can't walk, although I got down the stairs by hanging onto the railing, with the wheel chair waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

     I never changed my diet; if anything, it got WORSE.
It's up to me to change, so I guess what I'm passing along is if you're gonna do something like a lifestyle change, be serious about it.  
    
                                    -30-