Breaking Fake News: For the One Percent Only — Ground Broken for New DAPL Tower In ND at Standing Rock

BREAKING FAKE NEWS:
Prime Real Estate Package Deal Has Green Light.

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Myron Dewey ~ Digital Smoke Signals Drones at Work

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All ads appear via WordPress and have NO connection to me whatsoever–damn. Thanks for visiting my blogcasa and don’t forget #WaterIsLife visit http://www.defunddapl.org to make your money talk when it walks out of big banks funding dirty fossil fuel pipelines.

What are your favorite Bad books?

My top choice is Catch-22 by Joseph Heller. The film clip pretty much gives you the lay of the land.

List of commonly banned books in the US via wikipedia.

  Sept. 25 to Oct. 1 is banned books week.

 Exercise your right to read freely.

Sherman Alexie’s The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian is also one of my favorite bad books. And Kurt Vonneguts’s Slaughterhouse-Five is another dark keeper from the usual banned books suspects. I have to admit that unlike the other two books which make you laugh and cry, Slaughterhouse-Five seriously lacks in the laughs column. But it’s a powerful book about the horror of war.

So what books would you stand up for in the age of manipulative mind control?

 

Breakfast Special, #39, “Do Not Disturb”

*

“Do Not Disturb”

“Good night, Lily.” Anton watched her sway sleepily as she made her way through the bookroom and headed towards the bedroom. Taking advantage of the peace and quiet offered by the kitchen space, he decided to enjoy a few minutes for himself. A coffee refill joined another cookie while he relaxed in this unexpected gift of alone time.  Lily’s cup and book opposite the table setting she’d laid out for Sarge had him giving some serious thought to the current state of people affairs in Lily’s apartment and love life from a different perspective than he usually took on such matters. Anton has no doubt you can take whatever Lily dishes out physically if you get her riled up, Sarge. Not that I think you’d deliberately rile her, Big Man. Truth be, I can’t see you doin’ any of the things that have brought out Lily’s tire iron side. Anton’s concern be how well and the why of Lily keeping most all her intel regardin’ yourself to herself as she has. Plus, there be this protective attitude she’s putting out. She ain’t gonna let anyone wake you up from your beauty sleep. Where the hell that and the rest of this sleep intel collecting of hers comin’ from? What her home people vibes telling her? My bones sure don’t know. She workin’ on some other page entirely. Her saying she ain’t gonna leave you to deal with some shit you don’t know about yet, no matter how things go down with you and her, now that’s taking her vibes to a Lily book Anton ain’t even read the title of, much less caught on the shelf. Unless, Anton guess maybe that got something to do with Peter. Possible that. Not quite the same deal, but we got some common ground with the sex element. Different kind of hurt in that area, but there be hurt common ground too. Could be that combo working on Lily. Anton would feel a whole lot better about her sayin’ you stayin’ around if she’d said some mutually satisfactory bone jumpin’ had been shared last night. That be in the usual scheme of woman and man things. But that ain’t so. Instead of doin’ some dancin’ in bed until four in the morn, you two were laying cards on the table. Don’t get me wrong, I know that’s a good thing. Sarge, I would not blame you if you be re-thinking a thing or two regarding Lily after she laid down the John and Mark cards.

Anton’s fingertips took hold of the serving platter full of Mrs. Ling’s coconut cookies and rotated it round and round as he thought. He listened to the radiator pipes rattle and clang loudly for a few moments then turned to look and listen for sounds of people movement from the other end of the apartment. Hearing nothing, he took a deep breath and let it go.  Bottom line right now be this, Big Man: you getting a chance with Lily. Hell, you had it all along, just didn’t know it. Don’t feel bad about that. Anton was not aware either. Esther been out of that loop too. Anton not even going to whisper any of this intel to Esther. Oh no. Anton gonna leave it to Esther’s own eyes and ears. If Lily don’t share intel, then you not catching a bus out of the Flats gonna clue my Esther in fast enough. Can’t say I blame Lily for keeping her cards regarding you close to her chest, Sarge. Might seem strange comin’ from a woman, but Esther none too thrilled about your sex draw for the ladies. Everyone knows you give no serious attention to any woman except Lily and you nice and polite like with those ladies in waitin’ but nothin’ else. Anton think that little book she got her fingers on has Esther looking at you a certain way when she add in that draw you got. Funny thing is, from all your chatter, Anton know you ain’t got a clue about that draw. Irony working some serious overtime now. Lily being Lily, she got to be onto that draw cause she always on the lookout for what’s goin’ on with the boys and girls for figuring out how to get what she need. Now, Anton thinking if Lily watching you close enough to know what damn sleep cycle you in by how you breathin’, then she sure watching you close enough to know you in the dark about that sex draw you got going without working a damn thing. Lily sure got Esther beat on that score. Other thing though, Anton think you being in the dark a damn good thing for you, Sarge, cause Lily knows if you say you don’t know what’s going on with some other woman, well, you probably don’t know. Especially since Lily taking up all the lady space in your head already, there ain’t no room in there for another woman no how. If Lily don’t know that yet, her home people vibes sure do. All she got to do is tune into that vibe. Anton gonna let all this intel set nice and quiet. Yessirreee. Anton just gonna sit back and watch this show. No need for more. This one drama needs no intervention. Mmmmm. Anton gonna take two of these Ling sweets and gonna make tracks to Percy Two’s place. All Anton gonna say is Big Man needing some zs after spending too much time in that f’n cold basement water yesterday. That all be true. Nobody’s business about all the card laying until four am adding to the z need.

Anton stood up, washed his cup, carefully slipped two cookies into his side coat pocket and made tracks to the apartment door. At the mat where his boots waited, he paused and listened to the easy quiet in the bookroom and beyond. He took his notepad out of his pocket, found Lily’s roll of tape on the couch table, wrote  “ Do Not Disturb” in dark blue bold block print letters on his pad, tore the sheet off and taped it to the outside of the apartment door. Pleased with himself, he pulled on his insulated boots, locked the door behind him and quietly pulled it shut. He rubbed his fingers over the pieces of tape securing the note to the wooden door, took a cookie from his pocket and set off for the apartment building with the electrical wiring issues that would just have to wait for Big Man to wake up on his own to get some much-needed TLC.  There was plenty of other work to keep the entire crew busy until Sarge showed up to put his rewiring plan into action. Anton DeWitt was not worried about that plan even one little bit.  He laughed to himself as he stepped off Rosa’s front porch. Hot damn, Lily landed her a man with a sex draw that gets women to turn over their best recipes. Now that’s what Chef Anton calls friends with benefits.

~~~~~

Information regarding video and music “Do Not Disturb” Stop Motion Paper Folding [with original music]

A temperamental tree gets easily affected by the weather changes and the various visitors of his park.

Directed, produced and written by: Irenia Alvarez
Art design by: Vale
Original music and sound design by: Luis D’Elias
Director of Photography: Nikola Uzarevic
Set designer: Irenia Alvarez
Set designer assistant: Maria Carolina Hernández
Assistant director: Betzy Medina – Mariela Vargas
Edited by: Irenia Alvarez
Script: Irenia Alvarez
Original story by: Claudia Galean

Cast:
The hand: Luissana Mejias

 

 

 

Breakfast Special, #38, “Sleep Cycling”

“Sleep Cycling”

Lily knew it was Anton at the door by his knock. Setting aside her cookie and book, she quickly made her way to the door before he laid another set of quick, sharp knuckle raps on it. Anton greeted her with the disarmingly open smile he reserved for close friends as Lily opened the door and waved him inside.

“Hey, Lily.” Standing on the entrance rug, Anton glanced around the bookroom looking for Sarge. “Sorry, running late. Sarge already head up Percy Two’s way?” He stared at Lily in surprise when she shook her head, then held a finger to her lips signaling for quiet. She pointed at his boots and gestured towards the kitchen. Anton whispered, “Everything okay here, Lily?” After she nodded and gave a tired small smile in reply, Anton complied with her request to remove his boots and followed her into the kitchen.  There he took in the still three-quarters full pot of coffee on the stove, the teapot covered with the warming cover, pots and pans at the ready waiting on the stove, Lily’s near empty cup of coffee, a large book of forest photographs open at her place, the clean plate and empty cup at the other side of the table and the platter of  coconut cookies in the center.

*

Orca Book Publishers

*

Anton eyed the familiar looking and smelling coconut cookies with extreme curiosity as he sat down in the chair between the used and unused table settings.  Lily poured him a cup of coffee in silence and pushed the platter of cookies towards him before retaking her seat. Anton hesitated, glanced over his shoulder at the doorway to the bookroom and the entrance door at the far end of it. Reassuring himself that he had indeed seen Sarge’s heavy work-boots on the mat, he gave Lily a careful looking over.

Her voice soft and low, Lily pushed the cookies closer to him. “Go on, eat as many as you can. We both know you want to, Anton.”

Matching her quiet tone, Anton said, “Ahha, yeah, about these cookies,” he gestured at the platter, “they be what I think they be?”

“Depends on what you think they ‘be.” Lily sipped her coffee and popped the remaining portion of a half eaten cookie into her mouth. “Only way you’ll know for sure is if you eat one.”

Anton took one and ate it whole. Keeping his eyes on Lily, he washed it down with the coffee. “Yeah, they be what I think they be. How’d you get a whole load of them?”

Lily opened the recipe box and flicked her fingertips at the piece of paper stuck in the front ready for use in the immediate future. “Made them, that’s how.” She grinned when he stared at the recipe in disbelief.

“Ahh ha, Anton getting a picture book story right quick.” Anton took another cookie and sniffed it. “Hmm, yeah,” He looked over his shoulder again in the direction of Sarge’s boots on mat and then at Lily’s not entirely well rested face and form. “Lily looking like she need few more zs. Truth be, lot more than a few, my friend.” He ate the cookie while waiting for a reply. When Lily shrugged and gave her coffee cup her full attention instead of responding, he reached out and gently touched her shoulder to get her to make eye contact. “Not lookin’ like Sarge made tracks for a bus.” He nodded at the stove. “Not lookin’ like you woke up mad either.” He paused to give her a chance to speak, when she didn’t he continued voicing his thoughts.  He eyed the cookies again without any intention of taking another one. He waved his fingers at the platter. “Those little Ling sweets set some other sort of sweet thing in motion, Lily? That why you lookin’ like it wouldn’t hurt you none for some major z hibernating? Hmm? You and Sarge finally sort out a thing or two in a certain personal area you been keeping damn quiet about?”

Lily leaned back in her chair and returned Anton’s direct gaze. “Yes, we sorted out some things. Took us most of the night to do it, but we managed to get it done right. I woke up at my usual time. Sarge, he’s still in deep sleep mode. He won’t get to Percy Two’s place for doing that electrical work until this afternoon.  Sorry if that messes with the repair crew schedule, but I’m not waking him up and I’m not letting you or anyone else wake him up either. He’s not getting up until he’s had all the sleep he needs. He’ll wake up when he’s good and ready. You and the rest of the repair crew will just have to deal with that fact today, and every day hereafter. Do you read me, Anton?”

“I read you, Lily. Anton get it, Big Man been puttin’ in a hell of a lot of time and hard labor. Man needs a time out. That’s cool. No problem. Crew major respect all he do.”

Lily shook her head. “Sarge doesn’t need just a time-out, Anton.  If he’s going to continue fixing things here in the Flats he needs to ease up some. It’s not that he doesn’t want to do things, don’t take it that way. He does. He likes fixing things for people. You know he does. Problem is that he’s been using all this repair work to keep his mind too busy to deal properly with a few private things that require his attention. Those things do not include me. Oh I see you’re ready to jump on that statement of fact. Let me save you some breath. What that means is that I am not on the list of things he needs to deal with and get past. As far as he and I are concerned, we’re going to take our time and do things our own way and take it from there.  I don’t want to hear another word about what we ought to be doing or not doing according to what people usually do in your culture regarding their personal relationships.”

Anton made a zipper motion across his lips. “Should I share this intel with Esther?”

“No, I’ll make it clear to her myself. I know she means well. That’s not an issue. It’s just,” . . .. Lily stopped talking and stared out the kitchen window while considering her words. Knowing Anton knew her well enough that he wouldn’t take it as an evasive tactic she took her time. When she made eye contact again with the man patiently waiting and drinking his coffee, she sighed. “Esther thinks she knows how I should handle things with Sarge. I know what she thinks because she’s had no problem telling me. But Anton, you know from listening to your bones that sometimes what seems like the right thing to do based on logic is anything but right.”

“You saying you’re going all the way with your home people vibes regarding Big Man. Anton reading Lily right?”

Lily nodded. “Yes, Anton, I am. As Sarge put it last night, he laid a lot of cards out on the table because he didn’t want me to get blindsided by some things in his private life. Or what he thought was his private life. The more I think about what he told me, I’m not so sure it’s been very private at all. I know he’s talked about some of it with you. I don’t know what your bones have been saying. But mine have been in a bit of a tizzy, as Priest used to say, about those things and something he’s not seeing yet. Some thing Sarge doesn’t know anything about. My vibes can’t make sense of it right now.  Whatever that is, I do not intend to leave him to deal with it alone no matter how things turn out between us as a couple.”

“As a couple?” Anton set down the cup he’d been holding with both hands. “You both reading the same ink on that page, Lily? You and Sarge got that couple business all clear? You know why I’m putting the question back to you.”

“Yes.” Lily lifted her chin. “We agreed to continue living together between here and his place in the freight district.”  Seeing Anton’s eyes open wide with stunned surprise, she pushed on. “I told Sarge straight up that I don’t want him to leave and he told me straight up that he doesn’t want to leave. We get along with each other. Which is more than a lot of people you and I both know can say about their private relationships. Sarge and I have decided to take a shot at being a couple on our own terms. I’m saying that even after he laid a lot of his cards on the table and I put down some of my own. I didn’t put all down of mine at the same time because I didn’t want to get us off track about what was actually significant to the matters at hand. Some things can wait. At least until we’ve both had some more sleep. We’re both clear about each other’s past relationship problems and that’s what matters right now.”

Attempting to appear nonchalant about Lily’s matter-of- fact tone regarding her relationship problems, keeping in mind what he knew about Sarge’s problems, Anton slouched down in his chair and stretched out his legs. “Pardon me for asking, but did you or did you not lay down your card concerning what you did to Mark when you caught him on the stairs messing with Julianna?”

“I mentioned it. I didn’t go into all the details, but the gist of it got across.”

“The gist of it? Sarge knows it was you, not Ricardo, who broke the front door with Mark’s head, right?”

Lily scratched the side of her neck and frowned. “I think so. Well, maybe that detail needs to be clarified a little. What’s your point, Anton?”

Anton shrugged. “Nothing.  Just making sure Big Man knows how you can get when you’re riled up. That’s all. Don’t want him getting blindsided by a violin case in the gut if some drunk groupie backs him up against a wall in a stairwell outside a bar where’s he’s taking a break from from work, like John was at a music gig.”

Lily glared at him through eyes narrowed to sharp slits and found the energy to richly infuse her reply with sarcasism. “Oh no, we wouldn’t want that to happen to John or anyone else ever again. Not even if that drunk groupie happens to be his not so ex ex-live in girlfriend and his pants are down around his ankles.”

“Touche as they say. You clinched that there with the pants detail. I don’t recall hearing that before.”

Lily pushed her hair behind her ears then mimicked Anton’s mocking gossipy tone. “Did you hear the detail about him being stoned big time as they say? Hmm? John tends to leave out that piece of serious drug relapse intel when entertaining people with the story of Lily sending him to emergency room hospital hell with a violin case.”

“Anton caught some details about that violin case beating something besides the usual shit out of John. That something covered not only his hospital tab, but bought some serious don’t ask, don’t tell from the right folks. But hey, who listens to idle chatter from hospital orderlies pissed off about the drug trade in their neighborhood and in their hospital, right?”

“I definitely clarified all the details regarding that problem relationship, Anton.”

“Including details about John’s not-so-ex ex-live-in girlfriend? That be good fishin’ bait for some intel about new to Lily ex-live-in Sarge girlfriends, hmm.” Anton took another cookie and passed it from hand to hand while maintaining eye contact with Lily.

“There aren’t any ex live-in Sarge girlfriends or any other sort of ex-girlfriend to be concerned about,” said Lily.

Anton gave a faint hearted guffaw. “Hmm. I can’t see Sarge laying down some significant cards while making a pitch for bona fide serious couple rank without some card dealing with some ex girlfriends in some sense of the term. I can’t see this man doing that, Lily. My bones can’t see him trying to slide this card under a seat cushion. So let’s have reality fact check here regarding your understanding of this particular ex-girlfriends card.”

“Yes, Anton, I am aware that Sarge has had sexual relations with a lot of women. I’m sure you’re aware that it takes more than a few rounds of sex to have a real relationship with someone.  As far as real relationships go, in any sense of the meaning of that term, Sarge hasn’t had one that results in any variation of love-sick, angry ex-girlfriends doling out blow jobs in alleys behind bars to get a guy’s attention. There will be no such pitiful bitch appearing on Rosa’s porch at two in the morning wailing for Sarge to come out and fuck her blind in the street. Even if there was, Sarge is not the kind of man to give her exactly what she wants right there in the street, entertaining the gang guys going about their business as usual at two am. Yes, Anton, I knew what John did. I didn’t have to go out there and watch. I could smell it on him when he came back inside after sending her on her merry way as he put it.”

Lily was pleased with the taken aback expression on her friend’s face due to his learning of her awareness of an instance of John’s behavior which Anton had personally found especially offensive and which he’d made an intense effort to keep talk about from her ears. She mirrored his earlier action of taking a cookie while keeping eye contact. “That’s the kind of reality fact you wanted me to check, right?”

“You reality check that John fact dead on.” He took a breath. “Per current affairs, you care to clarify how you read Sarge in the other women line-up?”

Lily smirked then rubbed her tired eyes. “Do I care to? You’re being funny, Anton. To clarify my read further, well, I certainly have not had sex with as many men as he has had with women. But I bet I could catch up damn fast if I put up red lights on the porch instead of blue and put the word out that I’m open for business. Hmm. Do you think doing that would increase or decrease the odds of Sarge and I working out being a couple for the long haul?”

For only a very brief moment, did Anton consider raising the topic of the little grey book’s contents. “You got to be messing with Anton with that scenario. Such shit do no one any good.”

She laughed softly at his indignation and playfully kicked at his chair. “Relax, Anton. You know I wasn’t serious about that red light action play.”

“True. But I don’t like you even thinking up crazy shit like that, Lily. Gets my mind rolling along that maybe you done too much time in the Flats.” Anton paused while reviewing everything Lily had said so far. “There not much people action in the freight district where Sarge’s place be. When a man been living alone a long time, never know what that space that be like until you in it. Considering how Sarge deal with all things need fixing here, I bet money everything essential in good working order. That be a lot right there.” He looked around the kitchen and glanced into the bookroom. “Odds against it all comfy and cozy like your pad. But Anton thinking as long as Big Man’s place safe and solid, maybe Lily doing some time there be a good thing. Focus on couple action your way. No other people drama action distractions. No input there you don’t want. Peace and quiet be a big plus if you depending on your home people vibes to try to get couple two-way street working right for the long haul.”

“I think that’s a good idea, Anton. All the input from all quarters definitely has not helped me much with my other couple efforts.” Lily bit her bottom lip and briefly laid a hand on Anton’s. “But you always read the guys creed right for me, though. That definitely has helped me understand a lot of what went wrong.  What kind of shit do you think will get tossed my way when word gets around that Big Man is not making a permanent exit from Lily’s life as soon as he can easily catch a bus or cab out of the Flats?”

“Shit not worth taking the time to state you ignoring. Lot of folks been in-house too long with snow lockdown. Lot of head spaces packed tight with crazy notions. No telling what might get said by whom. All you need pay mind to be your home people vibes and what you know direct be true. Screw all the gossip drama queens’ bullshit flowing. They get all lathered up, that their issue.  Not yours.” Anton checked the bookroom again. “You sure Big Man is not going to wake up any time soon? I don’t want him hear us talk like this and get any wrong ideas that require the rest of the day and night clearing up.”

“I’m sure. Sarge won’t be up for hours unless the pipes start singing or the kids start jumping on the floor above the bed and wake him up. He’s down for about another three.”

“How you know that? You didn’t slip him something to send him to la la land, did you? Tell me you didn’t do that and mean it, Lily.” Anton put his hands together as if praying. “Please.”

“I didn’t do that. I mean it, Anton.  You know I wouldn’t do something like that. You’ve been dealing with way too many crazy people doing crazy things lately. I know because I’ve been paying attention to how Sarge sleeps ever since his first night here. It scared me the first time he slept so much longer than I expected. I couldn’t hardly tell if he was actually breathing or not. I kept checking on him. Then I got in the habit of checking on him whenever he sleeps longer than I do. That’s how I figured out about how long he spends in each stage.” She pointed at the coffee pot. Anton stood up and refilled her cup as she continued speaking. “We went to bed a little after four this morning. I can’t help but wake up by eight am even though I need a few more hours sleep. I’ll catch them later. You’re the same way. But Sarge, he doesn’t have a regular internal alarm clock like you and I do. If he does, it’s not working.  He’s got to work his way down to hit that deep sleep cycle and hang there for a few hours before he even starts working his way to the waking surface. It’s just a little after nine now, so he’s still in deep sleep mode, which I confirmed a few minutes before you showed up. I can tell what stage he’s in by his breathing and heart-beat. If he gets to sleep and wake up all on his own, he’s ready for anything all day long and most of the night too. If he doesn’t, then he’ll push through being still tired and he’ll do everything that needs doing. But he’s out of sorts physically and fairly miserable even though he doesn’t whine or complain about it like some people we could name but won’t. ”

Listening carefully not just to Lily’s words, but also to her tone and paying attention to her body language, Anton decided to share absolutely none of this intel with Esther. Everything he was hearing and observing right now told him there’d been a whole lot more going on with Lily in regard to Sarge than Esther, Rosa, himself, possibly even Sarge,  had a clue about. It fairly boggled his mind that she’d been monitoring the man’s sleep as carefully she was telling him she had. “Ahhha, and, um, have you shared all this sleep cycle intel with Sarge? Is he aware of how very aware you are of his sleep needs and habits?”

Lily took in the questions and frowned. “Sarge knows I check on him. I told him when I first started. It hadn’t occurred to me to discuss the rest in detail with him. After all, he can’t check on himself, can he? It just seemed useful to me to figure out so I know he is okay even when it seems like he’s barely breathing at all. I’m not joking, Anton. He’s so still and quiet when he sleeps it’s like he’s in a coma. He hardly moves. If I fall asleep after he does and wake up before him, I swear he’s in the exact same position as he was when I fell asleep. I’m not sure that’s normal. Do you think it would help anything if I told him what I’ve noticed?”

“Honest, I have no idea about that at all, Lily. Doc Tran might have a clue, but Anton definitely has nothing in his thought box about that sleep action. That something vary from one body to another. Might mean something, might mean nothing except that when Sarge down for the z count, he down hard.”

Lily relaxed and pulled her feet up onto the seat of her chair. Resting her chin on her knees she looked at the cookies then at Anton. “You really think I ought to tell him how I, um, pounded Mark’s head into the front door?”

Anton nodded. “I do. Main thing be Big Man knows exactly why. Plus, it don’t hurt none him knowing you can, and will, do a lot more than defend yourself in case a situation ever arises.”

“A situation? Very funny, Anton. Do you seriously think Sarge would create a situation which would provoke me to do some pounding on him? Hmm? Be honest, do you really think he deliberately would?”

Anton shook his head. “Truth be, Anton seriously doubt Big Man ever give Lily a reason to serve him some hurt.” He waited while Lily considered his reply. “Could be other situations arise though. Man never know when some time he get caught off his game or have to step it up real quick. That happen, help a mind knowing . . ,” Anton picked and discarded several phrasings before continuing with,  “knowing he got reliable support standing right there with him. Back to back, shoulder to shoulder support that won’t cut and run. That mean a lot to any man. Anton think it probably mean a damn lot more to Sarge.”

Lily contemplated this in regard to some of the things Sarge had shared with her. “I think you’re right.” She nodded thoughtfully at her friend. “Okay, I’ll clarify and elaborate on the Mark situation. Just so, like you said, so Sarge knows that about me.  And, in case, not that I think he ever would give me a reason, because I don’t think that at all, but just in case something ever comes up, he’ll know better than to try to bullshit me about it. Yeah, that’s like preventive medicine, right?”

“Could be. But like said before, don’t think Sarge ever give Lily just cause for punishment. Don’t think he got that streak in him, Lily. Not saying that cause he and me got decent rapport flowing. I mean it.”

“I know you do, Anton. I don’t think Sarge has it in him either.” She glanced out the window for a moment then look back at Anton. “I trust him. My vibes trust him. He’s a good man.”

“You read that right. No argument. Fact be, it sound damn good to hear you talk positive like that about him. ”

Lily sighed. “Anton, does it sound like I’m in love with him?”

“Sounding like you definitely in something with him for sure, Lily. Know you got some different notions about the whole love scene, therefore Anton hesitant to confirm or deny what’s what. But you said you don’t want Sarge to make an exit and you were straight up with him about that. Putting just that card on the table, well, I think you sure know why you don’t want him to leave. No surprise to Anton that Sarge don’t want to leave. Man been hoping you give him a chance all along.”

“Isn’t that what I’ve been doing? Otherwise I’d have sent him to sleep in the generator room or over to your place to get him out of my way from the start.”

Anton stared at Lily then shook his head to clear his mind and leaned towards her. “Wait. Hold on. Rewind things for Anton. Are you saying you been seriously checking this man out from the start for the whole time he’s been here? This ain’t been just about him getting stranded and you being nice and hospitality polite about him caught in snow lockdown in the Flats?”

“It’s not like I knew he’d get stranded here when I invited him in, but, I’d already decided to give Sarge a real chance even before he threw me in the taxi. Considering how he behaved after that, I guess you could say I was giving him a serious chance from then on. I gave him a little chance when he followed me up the street to ask for a date because of the book he was reading in the breakfast bar and how my vibes were humming.”

“Ahhhha. So Lily been givin’ Sarge chances all along then?”  Anton rubbed his right temple with his fingertips while considering this new intel from his friend whom this conversation seemed to be wearing down physically.

“Mmm. You read that right, Anton.” Lily blinked sleepily at him.

Anton glanced at his wristwatch, at the book of nature photographs Lily had been looking through before his arrival then at the way she was owning her chair with her whole body. “Lily looking mighty tired right now. There any particular reason you ain’t catching more zs? You stayin’ up to check on Sarge’s breathing or you staying awake to keep from taking things to the next level with him? Anton wondering why damned tired Lily ain’t in her own bed sleeping.”

Lily laughed softly. “That’s funny, Anton. The way Sarge sleeps, there’s no way to take things to another level. Don’t you get it? He’s way deep under the down for the count.  But you’re right that I am tired. I guess you could say I answered my alarm clock and woke up just long enough to be able to go back to sleep. That’s what I’m going to do.” She unfolded herself from her chair, stood up and stretched her arms overhead. “I may as well catch zs now while Sarge is heating up the bed instead of when he’s not.” She waved at the cookies, the coffeepot and the fridge. “Help yourself. You’re a cook. Make yourself something to eat if you’re hungry. You don’t need me for that.” She put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a gentle squeeze before walking past him and out of the kitchen on slightly unsteady feet.

Leaving Anton in the kitchen, Lily made her way back to her bedroom feeling sleep settling into her muscles with just the thought of the warm bed. She’d forgotten all about Anton by the time she walked along the edge of the bed, tugged lightly on Sarge’s toes as she moved past them, she knew full well it wouldn’t wake him, pulled off her thermals and got under the down quilt where the cotton flannel sheets were as warm as she’d expected. Snuggling under the quilt she lay on her side looking at Sarge’s profile in the faint dim light pushing through the small curtained bedroom window. Laying on his back with his head slightly tilted in her direction, the quilt covering him hid the rise and fall of his chest as he slept. She amused herself by reaching over and lightly tugging a lock of hair away from his face and watching it fairly spring right back into place when she released it from her fingers. She giggled a little and repeated the action with another unruly wave. “Your hair behaves like one of those metal ring toys, Funny Man.” She sniffed the air warmed by his body heat and scented with several sachets in the pillow cases and under the quilt. “Hmmm, smells like a warm day in the woods. Night, Sarge.” Remembering a summer day spent gathering plants in a forest with her mother and Gran, Lily caught up to Sarge in her own deep sleep cycle within moments of closing her eyes.

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CommonSenseCanadian

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Sarge awoke several hours later just as Lily had told Anton he would. Having no idea of the time and not caring and enjoying not caring about the time, he started to stretch out his arms as usual and discovered Lily sound asleep next to him.  Her long black hair spilling out from under the quilt drawn up over her ears hid everything but her eyebrows from view. A random clanking from the radiator caused him to cringe at the harsh sound as he turned onto his side to face Lily’s sleeping figure. Watching her sleep, he laid his fingertips on the nearest edge of a black swirl of her sleek hair and whispered, “Hey, Lily there are coconut cookies waiting for breakfast.” When she didn’t stir, he smiled and pulled the quilt edge up under his eyes. He took a deep breath of the warm air trapped underneath the down. “Smells like trees under here, Lily. Yeah, it does. Let’s go for a walk in the woods.” Closing his eyes, he lay quietly imagining wandering with Lily among the tall trees he’d seen in one of her books.

~~~

 Melanie Wong

Only one place on Earth is home to ancient cedars, towering spruce, cougars, wolves, grizzlies, salmon, and the iconic Kermode, or White Spirit Bear, which gives its name to the region. At 6.4 million hectares, the Great Bear Rainforest is the largest intact coastal temperate rainforest in the world. For thousands of years First Nations on Canada’s west coast have sourced life, culture and heritage from this environment. Today, the Great Bear Rainforest is such a global rarity that it has inspired unconventional partnerships, visionary leadership, and a radical change in the way we manage our resources.

A Quick and Dirty Review of Deborah Meyler’s ~The Bookstore~

*Public Domain Photo by Alexandre Duret-Lutz

Seldom have I ever been so on the fence regarding a book I’ve selected for a spot of easy reading than I was, and still am, as I’ve been with The Bookstore by Deborah Meyler.  After reading several pages at a random opening, I checked this novel out of my wonderful public library~ (side note: Everything under human control in the library is wonderful, though the departments ruled by computer intelligence are quite questionable of late. Artificial Intelligence is driving the staff a tad mad due to its distinct lack of common sense regarding book culling. For example, who would remove the second book in a young adult fantasy thriller series thus leaving a gap between volume one and three? What sense does that make? All it does is discourage the would be reader because the story is now incomplete. Okay enough of this developing issue.) Yeah, I promised a quick review for everyone on the cyber-space run.  Let’s get to the good stuff first: This is an easy-going read writing wise–you will not have to work through any deviously poetic complex sentence structures. The supporting cast of characters connected to the bookstore are very engaging creations–and mainly male. You get a decent sense of New York City’s never sleeping city atmosphere. There are interesting references and allusions to great art and great books. There’s a slightly developed commentary on the demise of independent bookstores being put out of business by corporate run big box book retailers. This is a nice big plus because it supports the assertion that Esme, our thoroughly modern young woman on the academic art history move, has a decently educated mind in good working order–except when it comes to the entire concept of pregnancy. She’s clueless like so many young people these days when it comes to her biological nature beyond sex for fun.  But I won’t hold that against her.  She does have many good qualities along the tune of -> Yes, ladies it can be very cool to be well read, intelligent and interested in much more than the moron box taking center stage in many living rooms. For the most part I like Esme very much. Hang on to “for the most part” –the not most part when I don’t care for–or comprehend–Esme is part of what still has me on the fence regarding this book.

What’s got me on the fence? Esme’s love interest, Mitchell. For the life of me I can’t figure out what this young woman finds to love in this cold-hearted bastard.  Being handsome is not enough–statues, male models, actors and non-famous dudes on the street can be very good-looking–but women don’t fall for them just because of the outer packaging–or do they?  I guess some do. Maybe Esme is supposed to be one of those ladies? Perhaps it’s because she’s twenty-three and has a libido in good working order? I’m serious here, folks. if  Meyler had given Mitchell a character profile beyond handsome economics professor from a wealthy family –I’m sure some of you are arguing that’s plenty, but it’s not in this context. Esme has too much going for her to be picked up by a handsome sexual predator running amok in NYC. Or does she?  Maybe there’s something amiss with the young Miss? I’m still not sure after finishing the book–which I nearly gave up on several times because I had such serious trouble buying this particular woman and man connection.  All the good things, bookstore, homeless people, Stella, George, Luke etc. kept me reading though–and the hope that Esme might get a clue or two regarding the man using her for nothing more than satisfying his own very manipulative dysfunctional ego. It’s not like she doesn’t have plenty of other men to compare this asshole to in order to see the light.

Mitchell’s character is a cliché in the extreme. Hence, I dislike him immensely. Disliking him is probably what Meyler had in mind. Problem is, he’s so dislikeable that it’s hard comprehending why Esme loves him. There’s nothing even remotely loveable about this guy as he is portrayed. If there’s some unwritten or edited out part of this novel that is loitering with intent to explain Esme’s feelings for this man, then it needs to get edited into the novel. Yes, women–and men–fall for the wrong sort of people all the time. True enough. But stating this guy has charm and giving him none at any point in time makes Esme come off as a complete dunce.  It would help matters considerably if the reader got some glimpse of what lures Esme into loving this man. Yeah, the slam dunk sex foreplay in the women’s restroom fails to do that for me.  It works for sexual attraction, but not for emotional attachment and involvement. Hmm. Maybe that’s Meyler’s point–that people confuse physical sexual attraction with emotional love attraction? Maybe.  I’m not sure.

Oh–yes, Esme does have alternative love interest choices which appear to operate on a more positive level–or could. There are hints which I won’t spoil here for any interested might be readers.  In many ways this is story about dealing with such relationship scenario. Perhaps it’s a modernized version of a very old cautionary tale for young women.  It certainly works in that regard. Hmm, maybe this review is getting me off the fence as I air my concerns here. Maybe.

If anyone has run through The Bookstore’s very accessible pages and cares to comment on my fencing–please don’t hesitate to share your thoughts about any chapter or verse in the novel. So, was this quick and dirty enough? Oh a little short on the dirty–hmm–consider a toothbrush standing in for a vibrator. How’s that for a little dirty?

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Meyler’s author page at http://authors.simonandschuster.com/deborah-meyler/408315626

Breakfast Special, #36, Szechuan Shrimp Lo Mein

“Szechuan Shrimp Lo Mein”

“Hey, Sarge.”  Lily leaned against the fridge wondering how to tell him he was welcome to stay without it coming across as if she was expecting a great deal more than either of them was ready for at the moment. She asked herself just what exactly she was really ready for, but before she could reply to herself, Sarge was in the kitchen holding a large round hot pink Tupperware container and grinning like a little kid who’d just found the best prize ever inside a box of cracker jack.

“Guess what this is, Lily.” He repeatedly flipped the container over and over showing his complete confidence in its ability to remain fully sealed while in motion.

Lily looked at his happy-as-all-get-out-hazel eyes and sighed. She grabbed hold of the container to stop its motion and peered at the milky white bowl. “Hmm. Looks like lo mein noodles.” She looked closer. “Is that shrimp I see? Open it! Open it!”  Sarge set the container on the table and obliged her. Lily leaned in close and sniffed. “Oh hot damn, Sarge. Is this Mrs. Ling’s Szechuan shrimp lo mein?!”

“Indeed it is, Lily. Guess what’s for dinner, unless you were planning on poaching some eggs, of course.” He winked at her, stood with his hands behind his back, rocking from one foot to the other clearly excited with having brought this delicious dish home.

Lily shook her head hard enough to send her hair flying. “No. Oh no. Mrs. Ling’s Szechuan shrimp trumps everything including eggs. How did you get this?”

“Unscheduled basement flood emergency complete with blown fuse box. Yeah. It was worth wading around in that damn cold water for this.” He held up the Tupperware lid. “And this too: her coconut cookie recipe.  Is this a major score or what, Lily?”

Lily took the lid from him and read the recipe. “O yeah, you scored big time, Sarge. No one makes better coconut cookies than Mrs. Ling.  I’ve never had any better even in that fancy bakery in M- or anywhere else for that matter.  Wow.”

Sarge sniffed the air. “Is that dinner I smell?”

“Yes, I think dinner is set. You hungry?”

“Starving.  If you’ll warm it up, I’ll get cleaned up. “

“Go! Go! Go! Hurry up! I’m dying for some spicy shrimp.”

Walking backwards towards the bathroom, he said, “You have chopsticks, right? Eating lo mein with forks is just plain wrong in my book.”

“Do you really have to ask?”  Lily laughed as she pulled out a pan for gently warming up the shrimp lo mein.

Five minutes later they were spearing shrimp and twirling noodles and playing with their food on the way to their mouths.  “Is everything Mrs. Ling makes this good?”

Lily nodded. “Everything she’s brought to a potluck has always been good, but this and the coconut cookies are her best as far as my taste buds are concerned. I think she’s got some secret with the shrimp.  Anton has been trying to figure it out, but so far he can’t pin it down. Mrs. Ling likes having her food mysteries, so she’s not saying.”

“When I tried this at that first potluck, I couldn’t get enough. It disappeared really fast too.  Oh hell this is so good.” Sarge ate a shrimp and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, she’s doing something with these little beasties all her own. I wonder what else needs fixing in that building.”

Lily laughed and pointed at the list on the fridge. “It’ll be interesting to see what other top choice meal deals you bring home as you work through those repairs requests.”

“Mmm. I wonder if I could work out some regular meal trades for bread. What do you think?”

Lily stuffed a bunch of lo mein into her mouth and nodded as she chewed. “Worth a try. Everyone seems to like one kind of bread or another.” She speared a shrimp and offered it to him. Sarge promptly accepted it. “Yeah, bread deals for sczechy shrimpies, oh Gloria’s pierogies, maybe some of Harold’s buffalo sausages. Hmm. O yeah, Sarge, there are plenty of primo meal choices around the Flats for trading bread.”

“Mrs. Ranoli’s turkey cherry lasagna.”

“O yeah.” Lily laughed and they both dug into their bowls. She looked over at the list on the fridge again then back at the man enjoying his shrimp lo mien score.

Sarge caught her eye action and leaned back in his chair. He waited to speak until he’d swallowed and had a sip of tea. “What’s on your mind, Lily? Hmm?”

She sucked on the ends of her chopsticks for a moment and looked at the list then back at Sarge.  With a little shrug she said, “There’s a lot of work on that list of yours. More on the main one that you’ve written your name by. That one on the fridge alone must be about thirty hours of full-time work all by itself.”

Sarge looked at the list and nodded. “Yeah, more or less depending on what I find when I actually get into seeing what’s messed up.  A lot of that needs some serious attention as soon as possible. That’s why I took them. If there’s something electrical I can’t handle then Ricardo probably can. Anything like that at least I’ll save him the time and trouble of finding the problems.”

Lily set her chopsticks across the top of her bowl then pushed her hair behind her ears and mentally jumped. “Sounds like a good working plan. But how are you going to do all that and work full-time dock hours too?”

“I have that worked out with Oscar already. Starting from whenever he can open up the docks for freight as usual I’m taking two weeks vacation. That should let me get through the really bad stuff and anything else that decides to blow in that time.” Sarge suddenly realized he hadn’t discussed any of this with Lily. “Um, that is if it’s okay with you that I’m still hanging around here, of course.” He held his breath while watching her intently and bracing for negative impact verbally and/or physically for his oversight.

Lightly tapping her fingertips on the sides of her bowl she nodded. “Yes, it’s okay with me, as long as you still want to be hanging around here. That vacation time plan sounds good. Though it’s not much of a vacation for you, is it? Not exactly a trip to the Caribbean to get away from the snow and cold for a fun time.” Lily watched for any reaction from him regarding the indirect reference to the travel receipt in his coat pocket. He offered none that she could discern via direct observation nor her home people vibes and a certain small tight knot eased in her stomach.

“Oh I beg to differ, Lily. I’m having great fun with the whole shebang.” Unconsciously he lowered his head enough so that he was looking at her through the hair covering his eyes like a sheepdog who thought he’d narrowly escaped permanent banishment from its chosen human’s company forever. “Nasty garbarge disposal tricks aside, of course. But even those have their upsides, like baths and Lily swirlies.”

“Are you really enjoying everything, Sarge?” she said softly while glancing down into her bowl then at him then into the bowl again. “Even pushy Lily swirlies?”

Realizing she was talking about more than the work concerning the repair list, Sarge leaned slightly forward over the table. Wondering if a solid chance with Lily was now coming his way, he said, “Yes, I really am, Lily. I’m having a great time with you here in the Flats.” Seeing her sharp cheekbones suddenly flush brightly, he pushed his hair away from his eyes to keep from reaching out and touching her red streaked cheeks and said softly, “Lily, I don’t want any of it to stop: not the sharing breakfasts; not the dancing with you; not the bread baking; not the crazy repair work or minding Marianna on a tough day.”

Lily nervously twisted her fingers in her hair and smiled. “That’s good, because I’ve been having a great time having you here with me in the Flats. I don’t want any of it to stop either, Sarge.” She glanced at the list on the fridge again. “Since everything is working for both of us, then it doesn’t seem to make any sense to change things that don’t need changing, at least not to me.”

“Not to me either.” Hoping she couldn’t hear how hard his heart was pounding as he waited for her to share the rest of her thoughts, Sarge moved his hands under the table and tightly gripped his knees. “This is your home so it’s entirely your call when I stay or go.”

“You’re very welcome to keep staying here as long as we’re both agreeing with each other.” She shrugged a little and listened to her home people vibes murmuring softly. “Or whatever combination of here and your place makes sense when your vacation is over.”

“Okay, thanks, that sounds good to me.” Feeling awkward in spite of their mutual agreement, Sarge tried to find a way to create a more concrete and literal balance in the scenario.  “My place isn’t nearly as . . .  comfortable . .  as yours.  But it is a lot closer to the college. Maybe it could be useful to you somehow. There’s plenty of room for a study space all your own. Usually it’s pretty damn quiet too, even when Kozy is working on something downstairs. He won’t mind at all if you wolf howl your lungs out. Might rattle some of the guys on the docks, but hey, it would give them something different to talk about.” Sarge thought for a moment, searching for something else to offer her very practical sensibilities, he added, “There’s a bus stop close by for the long route that goes from the west end of Falls direct to M- and back. It’s easy to make a transfer connection to and from the Flats in several places.”

Understanding the balance Sarge was trying to create with the sharing of their individual spaces that he was offering her, Lily hummed with internal excitement while managing to respond calmly with quickly growing real interest. “Your place is near a bus stop for the long West-East route on the south side? That is very handy.” She tried, and uncharacteristically failed, to pin-point the stop location-based on her knowledge of the city bus system.

Encouraged by her tone and the gleam of genuine interest in her black eyes, Sarge did what he’d never dared to do in the five years he’d lived in the freight district on the second floor of Walter  Kozy’s warehouse, he invited another person, this particular woman, directly into what amounted to as his personally sacred for its highly prized privacy, living space. “When the bus routes are back on track, how about we take a ride to the freight district so you can have a look around my place? We could brainstorm some other ideas. Let’s see what works for both of us.”

Feeling suddenly oddly shy and disconcerted about this development regarding sharing his living space, Lily’s voice was hardly above a whisper when she said, “I’d like that. It’ll be like figuring out how to pool our resources with our different locations in the city.”

“Exactly.” Trying to contain his own nervous excitement, Sarge took a deep breath. “We can work things out as we go along. Switch it up until we find out what suits us both.” He waited for her to make eye contact again. “I’m game for keeping things working for both of us, if you are, Lily.”

“I am too. I’m in, Sarge.” She partly hid her smile with her hand for a few moments while quickly considering the doors that had unexpectedly opened between them. “I guess that’s settled then.”

Picking up on the fact that her voice had become quiet and soft and correctly interpreting it as an indicator of her excited yet very nervous state of mind regarding the content of their conversation and its implications for each of them, Sarge tried to put her, and himself, at ease before one or both of them began back pedaling for any number of rational reasons. “If you say it’s settled, Lily, then it is as far as I’m concerned. I meant what I said about it all working for me. Truly it is. If something isn’t working for you, just say the word and I’ll do my best to set it right.”

“Same here, Sarge. Two way street.” She walked the fingers of each hand in opposite directions towards and past each other across the table.

Sarge watched her finger action and laughed. “A two way street, eh? Do we need a stop sign or a traffic light for getting from one side to the other? I doubt either would stop you from jaywalking at will.”

Feigning innocence, Lily pointed at herself. “Me jaywalking? Never. Ah ha. You’re a very funny man, Sarge.” She pointed to the teapot nearer him for a refill of her cup.

“Apparently I have my moments according to your sense of humor.” He grinned while pouring more tea into her cup and then his own and caught sight of Mrs. Ling’s cookie recipe. “Do you think Rosa has any coconut stashed somewhere so we can try out these cookies tonight?”

“Probably. But we don’t need hers, not yet anyway, when we’ve got coconut aplenty right here, Sarge.” She pointed backwards towards the storage cabinets.

Sarge glanced at the cabinet then at the recipe. “What are we waiting for then, Lily? Let’s make some cookies.”

She got up, opened a cabinet, pulled out a large bag of shredded coconut and tossed it to him. “How about some Benny Goodman on the side? That work for you?”

“That definitely works for me, Lily.” He watched her leave the kitchen for the record player in the bookroom. When she was out of his sight, he stood up and spun around on the balls of his feet in a quick silent celebration of their agreement to continue living together and working on their evolving relationship.  Hearing static from the other room signifying the record player was now in action, Sarge froze with the realization that at this point in time he was already far beyond netting his former goal of getting to see Lily for a third or fourth time. He’d passed that goal weeks ago after the snow had first begun falling in earnest. Music came from the bookroom, but Sarge paid it no mind as Lily sauntered back into the kitchen with a preoccupied little smile on her lips. Catching his more than slightly stunned facial expression, she cocked her head to one side and came to a halt in front of him.

“You look like you’ve been hit with a dozen snowballs all at once, Sarge. What’s the matter? Shrimp lo mein, coconut cookies, Benny, and Lily more than you can handle at one time?”

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Sarge looked down at the black eyes shining up at him and gave her a wicked grin. “Careful, Missy, or you’ll find out real fast just how much I can handle all at one time.”

“Ooooo that sounds like a dare.” Lily grabbed the bag of coconut from the table and tossed it at him then followed it up with the empty Tupperware container. She was reaching for the cookie tin when he gently stayed her hand with his. Lily turned towards him and he quickly stole a light brush of a kiss on the lips then shyly backed away like a skittish deer retreating from the bright lights on a road at night. Tempted as she was to hedge him in between the kitchen window, table and sink counter with a chair to stand on in order to soundly return the favor of his affection, she paid heed to the sudden warning turn of her home people vibes and refrained from taking such an approach. Instead she smiled and blew him a kiss. “I like you too, Funny Man.” She winked and began dancing to the music while gathering the ingredients for Mrs. Ling’s cookies. A moment later he joined her efforts.

Lily smiled to herself happy in knowing that she’d read him well enough that, in spite of his verbal daring and spontaneous kiss theft, he clearly couldn’t handle more at the moment. Backing off from physically returning the kiss and letting him return from his retreat on his own was plainly the right plan of action as his quick, unhesitant jump into the cookie making preparations signified. As they moved into sync for baking and dancing, her home people vibes humming along with the music, she felt him edge a little closer physically like a wary stray cat getting comfortable with the notion of proximity to a human setting out clean water and food for it. Treating him as if he were indeed such a cat, she kept to the program with which they were both familiar and comfortable and refrained from making any sudden movements of her own, tempting as that was considering their new mutual agreement to keep doing what was working for both of them, namely living together, and expanding their domain by venturing into his living space on the other side of the city.

As she gradually added coconut to the dough Sarge was steadily mixing with a wooden spoon, Lily reflected on the information he’d shared piecemeal about his home on the second floor of the warehouse in the freight district. The main thing that came to mind was a sense of it being far enough off the city’s well beaten paths to offer privacy and peace, trains aside, yet close enough for easy access with some foresight regarding public transportation schedules. She considered the comparative lack of both privacy and peace here in the Flats and gave him credit for adapting as well he had without complaint to the local environment. Having done more than her fair share of adapting, which seemed never-ending for her, she knew how the stress of it could manifest in unexpected ways. It wouldn’t surprise her at all if that alone was responsible for his starts and stops when it came to physical closeness when they weren’t dancing or sharing a task. She factored in the intense and focused way he read, as if his mental space was his most prized possession, and thought she had a fairly good explanation for his behavior. If they ventured into deeper emotional and physical waters now, and if they had a falling out, his as well as her options for literal private physical escape from the situation in the current context were practically nil. He might sleep in the front room occupied by the back-up generator and Ricardo’s in-home warehouse of food and other supplies deemed necessary for survival in the winter months in this climate, but it was no place for him or anyone else to spend their days waiting for the city to return to enough normalcy to enable a return home. The ready rooms over at “sun rise” didn’t offer any better solution all things people context considered.

Unconsciously they leaned into and against each other while together carefully reading Mrs. Ling’s surprisingly fluent English translation of the instructions for the next steps in the recipe. After placing the cookie dough in the fridge then setting the timer, they gave their full attention to the music and put the waiting time to good use dancing.

Ray Adams

Lily gave herself up to the music Priest had shared with her in an effort to create for her a potential social bridge into another culture. Gran and her aging friends had joined in the music and dance efforts in order to encourage Lily and to get some sense of what Priest was trying to convey to her granddaughter. Now her home people vibes hummed with glee as Sarge, who held nothing back as a dance partner, twirled, whirled and spun her around the apartment as if this was the very best thing in the world to be doing right here and now.

Only after the coconut cookies had been baked and deemed satisfactory for first efforts with a new recipe, after they’d cleaned the kitchen, after they’d danced to the last song on the record and Sarge laid claim to the bathroom for a shower while Lily sprawled over the red velvet couch enjoying the view of the winter sky, only then did either of them take more than a moment to pause in order to reflect on their conversation over Mrs. Ling’s shrimp lo mien.

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Breakfast Special, #1  ->  https://47whitebuffalo.wordpress.com/2013/04/25/breakfast-special/

Bread and Puppet Theater + “crisis bread” & “crying cream dreams” = Nourishment

In part to prove I still have a sense of humor, such as it may be, I offer some theatre and refreshments for your enjoyment.  Perhaps some of you will find Amy Goodman’s interview with Peter Schumann, founder of the Bread and Puppet Theater, as delightful as I did. Or not.  Schumann’s references to his own bread baking reminded me of poems I wrote for brulionmann as a result of his complaints about the state of bread–and cream– so it seemed like a great combo read meal deal.

menu:

bread poem

Band music for The Shatter

interview in three parts

short puppet clip

long variety show

cream poem

bon appetit!

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i——i

“crisis bread” 

“no money for a bread, we call that  ”crisis” ~ brulionman

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world wide tragedy

is bread

state of bread = bitch fest

gimme some goddamn real pita,

hell, some hemp too

a boatload of naan and a frying pan, please!

 a plate of roti

crisp, crunchy Italian

I’ll even take a loaf of stinky sourdough

anything but this damn white mish mash hash gumshoe shit

cornbread? really? wtf are you trying to pull on me?

bring on the challah,brioche, lavash

toss some tortillas and frybread drill team style

I’ll sell my soul for a true French baguette

a full-bodied Polish rye with some style

German pumpernickel with pump not pap

throw a roll at the wall and watch the plaster fall

a crust you peel

soak soup

bathe in butter love

plate scour

gimme some goddamned real bread

Another corporate crime against humanity

wonder

hostess

sara Lee

nature’s pride

pepperidge farm

sunbeam

holsom and all the rest of the plastic bag labels

guilty as charged

baking loaves with out heart

soul-less seeds

bakery murder in the first degree

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http://brulionman.wordpress.com/2013/10/06/sobotniej-cyklozy-napad-saturday-attack-of-cycling/#comments

Some bread and butter from Yi-Ching

http://yichinglin.com/2013/10/09/buttered/

 http://yichinglin.com/tag/bread/

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DeeDee Halleck

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Bread and Puppet Theatre ~ Blue Sky Puppet + Mask Dance ~ July 2012

theRedCatRed

First two acts of a Bread and Puppet Friday night show. Recorded July 2012.

First act is the blue sky puppet with clouds.
Second is the elegant masked dance.

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Bread and Puppet Circus and Pageant on Sunday, July 14. 2013

videosphere

“crying cream dreams”

cream? get real, brulionman

  brulionman get a cow.

 tie it to your bicycle

  hand school teats

seriously, get some finger action going

community uprising cream dream

cow eats sun

din din until day done

treat those teats right

milk, cream, butter, cheese

comes one happy cow

squeeze, squirt, squish

 get a Guernsey with a babe

fill a bucket

set set set

cream rises, oh hell, yeah

no, no, no to piggy fat!

real cream needs none of that!

flour? does not compute

send that shit down the garbage chute

just the cream if you please

sweet talk some butter

tease the thick from the top

sip sip sip, can’t resist

drop it in a jar

get some bike dance mojo goin’

thirty tic tocs butter glowin’

pushing creamy envelopes

cheesecloth action play

guess what you got coming days

 cheese, glorious cheese

get a cow, brulionman, no bull

you want real cream

fingers gonna need some teat pull school

No, I don’t know how to get a cow to ride a bike!

You’re on your own with that, brulionman!

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http://brulionman.wordpress.com/

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Thanks for visiting! Please come again. 🙂

Lovers, a touch of drama

What’s love without some drama? Hmm?

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Arn & Cecelia ~  Arn Knight Templar    Ballad about Love_Vladimir Vysotsky’s (1975) Translations by I.Shambat. Movie_Arn – Tempelriddaren (2007).

arsa333

Wikipedia online source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arn_%E2%80%93_The_Knight_Templar

Arn – The Knight Templar (Swedish: Arn – Tempelriddaren) is a 2007 epic film based on Jan Guillou‘s trilogy about the fictional Swedish Knight Templar Arn Magnusson. The film was released in December 2007 and the sequel, Arn – The Kingdom at Road’s End (Arn – Riket vid vägens slut), was released August 22, 2008, but both films were combined into a single cut for the English release on DVD in 2010. While the film is mostly in Swedish and most of the production was made in Sweden, the film is a joint production between Sweden, Denmark, Norway, Finland and Germany

*

Shakespeare’s play plays again and again and again.

Wikipedia online source:

Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy written early in the career of William Shakespeare about two young star-crossed lovers whose deaths ultimately reconcile their feuding families. It was among Shakespeare’s most popular plays during his lifetime and, along with Hamlet, is one of his most frequently performed plays. Today, the title characters are regarded as archetypal young lovers.

Romeo and Juliet belongs to a tradition of tragic romances stretching back to antiquity. Its plot is based on an Italian tale, translated into verse as The Tragical History of Romeus and Juliet by Arthur Brooke in 1562 and retold in prose in Palace of Pleasure by William Painter in 1567. Shakespeare borrowed heavily from both but, to expand the plot, developed supporting characters, particularly Mercutio and Paris. Believed to have been written between 1591 and 1595, the play was first published in a quarto version in 1597.

And there is oodles more  info everywhere. Suffice to say, Shakespeare wrote for the performance marketplace and aimed to pleasure money from the highest to the lowest pockets.  Imagine the royalties he could be collecting if he were still alive and playing.

Romeo & Juliet  I”m Kissing You ~ Des’ree

sokool701

&

A Time for Us  ~ Barratt Waugh

FairyLavgood

*

Tristan & Isolde None Can Die  ~ Anne Dudley

lutek01

Wikipedia has an extensive plot outline for the film from which this music originates–and a lot more as you can see from the embedded links.

Tristan & Isolde is a 2006 romantic drama film based on the medieval romantic legend of Tristan and Isolde. It was produced by Ridley Scott (who had been working on an adaptation since the mid-seventies) and Tony Scott, directed by Kevin Reynolds and stars James Franco and Sophia Myles, with an original music score composed by Anne Dudley. This was Franchise Pictures‘ last film before bankruptcy

*

Deirdre and Naoise  ~ Deirdre of the Sorrows

Vikki Ni Bhrein

Deirdre via  Wikipedia:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Deirdre :

Deirdre was the daughter of the royal storyteller Fedlimid mac Daill. Before she was born, Cathbad the chief druid at the court of Conchobar mac Nessa, king of Ulster, prophesied that Fedlimid’s daughter would grow up to be very beautiful, but that kings and lords would go to war over her, much blood would be shed because of her, and Ulster’s three greatest warriors would be forced into exile for her sake. Hearing this, many urged Fedlimid to kill the baby at birth, but Conchobar, aroused by the description of her future beauty, decided to keep the child for himself. He took Deirdre away from her family and had her brought up in seclusion by Leabharcham, an old woman, and planned to marry her when she was old enough. Deirdre grew up, and one day told Leabharcham that she would love a man with hair the color of the raven, skin as white as snow, and lips as red as blood. Leabharcham told her she knew of such a man — Naoise, a handsome young warrior, hunter and singer at Conchobar’s court. With the collusion of Leabharcham, Deirdre met Naoise. At first the young man wanted nothing to do with her, because it was known that she was destined for the king. But Deirdre shamed him into eloping with her. Accompanied by his fiercely loyal brothers Ardan and Ainnle, the sons of Uisneach, they fled to Scotland. For a while, they lived a happy life there, hunting and fishing and living in beautiful places; one place associated with them is Loch Etive. But the furious, humiliated Conchobar tracked them down.

He sent Fergus mac Róich to them with an invitation to return and Fergus’s own promise of safe conduct home, but on the way back to Emain Macha Fergus was waylaid by the king’s plan, forced by his personal geis (an obligation) to accept an invitation to a feast. Fergus sent Deirdre and the sons of Uisnech on to Emain Macha with his son to protect them. After they had arrived, Conchobar sent Leabharcham to spy on Deirdre, to see if she had lost her beauty. Leabharcham, trying to protect Deirdre, told the king that Deirdre had lost all her beauty. Mistrustful, Conchobar then sent another spy, Gelbann,[2] who managed to catch a glimpse of Deirdre but was seen by Naoise, who threw a gold chess piece at him and put out his eye. The spy managed to get back to Conchobar, and told him that Deirdre was as beautiful as ever. Conchobar called his warriors to attack the Red Branch house where Deirdre and the sons of Uisnech were lodging. Naoise and his brothers fought valiantly, aided by a few Red Branch warriors, before Conchobar evoked their oath of loyalty to him and had Deirdre dragged to his side. At this point, Éogan mac Durthacht threw a spear, killing Naoise, and his brothers were killed shortly after. There are other versions of the death of Naoise. Fergus and his men arrived after the battle. Fergus was outraged by this betrayal of his word, and went into exile in Connacht. He later fought against Ulster for Ailill and Medb in the war known as the Táin Bó Cúailnge (the Cattle Raid of Cooley), the Irish Iliad.

After the death of Naoise, Conchobar took Deirdre as his wife. After a year, angered by Deirdre’s continuing coldness, Conchobar asked her whom in the world she hated the most, besides himself. She answered “Éogan mac Durthacht,” the man who had murdered Naoise. Conchobar said that he would give her to Éogan. As she was being taken to Éogan, Conchobar taunted her, saying she looked like a ewe between two rams. At this, Deirdre threw herself from the chariot, dashing her head to pieces against a rock. In some versions of the story, she died of grief.

There are at least five plays based on Deirdre’s story: George William Russell‘s Deirdre (1902), William Butler YeatsDeirdre (1907), J. M. Synge‘s Deirdre of the Sorrows (1910), John Coulter‘s Deirdre of the Sorrows: An Ancient and Noble Tale Retold by John Coulter for Music by Healey Willian (1944), and Vincent WoodsA Cry from Heaven (2005). There are also three books: Deirdre (1923) by James Stephens, The Celts (1988) by Elona Malterre, and “The Swan Maiden” by Jules Watson.

Deirdre, a ship in the Irish Naval Service from 1972 to 2001, was named after her.

 

 

More Amour ~ With legs, hands, lips and ~~ The Kiss

*

Okay, some sexy love fun is in order and, well, the photographs sing their own song. John Lee Hooker just ices the cakes. Hmm.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen high heels quite like the ones in the very last image of this video. Ladies, the last set of heels is all yours.  Homage to the sensual side of love–with a lot of legs. Yes,  a lot of legs. I think we have some idea of what appeals to this particular incarnation of “Irene Adler.” And to many of the rest of us.

Bang Bang Bang Bang ~ John Lee Hooker

Irene Adler·

*

It ought to be easy to find a translation of a song’s lyrics, right? Not so with In The Forest, a Polish tune.  Apparently the words cause even modern native speakers some grief because this is not modern Polish.  Best I can figure is that perhaps there’s some questions about if the guy deserves what happens to him–and, the thought “shit happens.” You’ll have to watch to the very end to get that last thought via an image. At least that ‘s how I’m interpreting it right now.  It’s bit of a walk on the dark side of romantic relationships. Just a bit. Don’t be dissuaded from listening because you don’t know Polish and there are no lyrics. The images tell a very familiar girl and boy story. I have no doubt you will recognize it.

In The Forest ~ Warsaw Village Band

JARO Medien GmbH – Bremen

*

I discovered Edna St. Vincent Millay in the fourth grade. What can I say? Great things in the school music and arts program–which also included The Highwayman of which a version also appears here and Poe’s The Bells, which does not appear here.

Love Is Not All

Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink
Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain;
Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink
And rise and sink and rise and sink again;
Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath,
Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone;
Yet many a man is making friends with death
Even as I speak, for lack of love alone.
It well may be that in a difficult hour,
Pinned down by pain and moaning for release,
Or nagged by want past resolution’s power,
I might be driven to sell your love for peace,
Or trade the memory of this night for food.
It well may be. I do not think I would.

Edna St. Vincent Millay

*

Drive Elevator Scene ~ The Kiss ~ composer Cliff Martinez ~  Heads up, if you’re squeamish,  then stop watching for a short time, don’t stop listening or you’ll miss out, after the kiss while the music is in transition. If you have not viewed the film Drive, which is a truly great film, then I highly recommend it. Mary Poppins it is not.  That said, what would you do to protect those you love? Also, yes, Ryan Gosling’s character knows the man in the elevator is a hit man and he knows he has fatal intentions. He steps into the elevator knowing. These are not random acts. Everything has intention.  I cannot think of another film kiss that can compare with this one. If you can, I invite you to share it. Furthermore, there are clips of this scene set to other music by fans. I don’t know why they bother because Martinez’s score here is flawless for sheer emotive power in my opinion. Everything matters in this scene, every image, every look, every sound.

 PowerfulScenes

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What can I can? If you love poetry, then discover Neruda if you have not already.  Here’s just one sonnet why.

One Hundred Love Sonnets: XVII

BY PABLO NERUDA

TRANSLATED BY MARK EISNER

I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as one loves certain obscure things,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries
the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,
and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose
from the earth lives dimly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you directly without problems or pride:
I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,
except in this form in which I am not nor are you,
so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,
so close that your eyes close with my dreams.
[Online source: The Poetry Foundation http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/179257]

*

Before Sunrise Written & Directed By Kealan O’Rourke ~ A very lovely animated work about the dark finding light and the rest is transformation.

kealanorourke

*

Opera imaginaire ~  Lakme Flower Duet ~ Opera that works for me. Perhaps it will work for you too. I love how this transcends all sorts of obstacles and barriers on multiple levels: gender, culture, language, nature, humans, media, music and spirituality. If you don’t get it, then, well, you just won’t get it until you do a few dances with with a spring wind scented with apple blossoms.

magermunson

*

Oh My Love ~ Katyna Ranieri, song by Riz Ortolani’  ~  Oddly enough I cannot recall how I found this gorgeous piece.  I have heard of Ranieri. I have heard the song from some long ago time. There it was on the tubes of you and I was lucky enough to find a live performance by the very expressive Ranieri.

Mauro Piffero·

*

Irene and Sherlock  Love Game ~ Vitamin String Quartet ~  Oh my, Sherlock is BACK! with a modern wonderful vengeance. There’s a bit of an homage to Sherlock currently on the sidebar to celebrate this delight.  I selected this one because of the violin.

LittlestVioletSeller

*

The Highwaywman ~ Loreena McKennitt ~ Listen and read and imagine.

Xouliamas

Album: The Books of Secrets
Year: 1997

Lyrics by Alfred Noyes, abridged by Loreena McKennit

The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon the cloudy seas
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor
And the highwayman came riding,
Riding, riding,
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.

He’d a French cocked hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat of claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;
They fitted with never a wrinkle; his boots were up to the thigh!
And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,
His pistol butts a-twinkle,
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.

Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark innyard,
And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred;
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord’s black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord’s daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

“One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I’m after a prize tonight,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
Yet if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by the moonlight,
Watch for me by the moonlight,
I’ll come to thee by the moonlight, though hell should bar the way.

He rose upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand
But she loosened her hair i’ the casement! His face burnt like a brand
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,
(Oh, sweet black waves in the moonlight!)
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west.

He did not come at the dawning; he did not come at noon,
And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise o’ the moon,
When the road was a gypsy’s ribbon, looping the purple moor,
A red-coat troop came marching,
Marching, marching
King George’s men came marching, up to the old inn-door.

They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead,
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed;
Two of them knelt at the casement, with muskets at their side!
There was death at every window
And hell at one dark window;
For Bess could see, through the casement,
The road that he would ride.

They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest;
They had bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!
“now keep good watch!” And they kissed her.
She heard the dead man say
“Look for me by the moonlight
Watch for me by the moonlight
I’ll come to thee by the moonlight, though hell should bar the way!”

She twisted her hands behind her, but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness and the hours crawled by like years!
Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,
Cold, on the stroke of midnight,
The tip of one finger touched it!
The trigger at least was hers!

Tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs were ringing clear
Tlot-tlot, in the distance! Were they deaf that they did not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The highwayman came riding,
Riding, riding!
The red-coats looked to their priming!
She stood up straight and still!

Tlot in the frosty silence! Tlot, in the echoing night!
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!
Her eyes grew wide for a moment! She drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight,
Her musket shattered the moonlight,
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him with her death.

He turned; he spurred to the west; he did not know she stood
Bowed, with her head o’er the musket, drenched with her own red blood!
Not till the dawn he heard it; his face grew grey to hear
How Bess, the landlord’s daughter,
The landlord’s black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.

Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!
Blood-red were the spurs i’ the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat,
When they shot him down on the highway,
Down like a dog on the highway,
And he lay in his blood on the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat.

Still of a winter’s night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon, tossed upon the cloudy seas,
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
A highwayman comes riding,
Riding, riding,
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.

~

~Bear:  LOVE    http://bearspawprint.wordpress.com/2013/12/13/music-themes-love/
____________________________________________________________
Eva:   More Amour — With legs, hands, lips, and The Kiss —            https://47whitebuffalo.wordpress.com/2013/12/13/more-amour-with-legs-hands-lips-and-the-kiss/
Eva:   What’s Love Got To Do?    What’s Love Got to Do? Musical Theme for Friday, the 13th of December 2013.
____________________________________________________________
Willow: ??     http://willowdot21.wordpress.com/
____________________________________________________________
Johnny: LOVE
http://johnnyojanpera.wordpress.com/2013/12/13/musi-theme-december-13-love/  ____________________________________________________________
Deborah: Love and Random Acts of Kindness: A Musical Exploration           http://myriad234.wordpress.com/2013/12/13/love-and-random-acts-of-kindness-a-musical-exploration/
____________________________________________________________
D.S. Nelson: ??   http://hatpaintladdersandwonkypooh.wordpress.com/

 

 

 

 

 

A Love Letter In This Digital Age: Music Theme ~ Love ~ for Friday the 13th of December.

Music Theme for December 13. Yes, that’s a Friday. I say we defy Friday the 13th with Love.

Inclined to offer more than music? Please feel free to incorporate whatever trips your love trap.  No, it is not my intention to confine Love to only the romantic variety. Though you certainly may do so.  Explore however you are so inclined.  Feel free to mix media–music and film videos, poetry, prose, visual art. Incorporate your own work and the works of others. If you will, think of this as an online Love Letter drawing upon and going in any and all directions that inspire you.

Tommy Grooms

My favorite scene from M. Night Shyamalan’s The Village.
A moment on the porch between Ivy Walker and Lucius Hunt.

Take note, Ivy Walker is blind.

*

By John Donne 1572–1631 John Donne

For God’s sake hold your tongue, and let me love,
         Or chide my palsy, or my gout,
My five gray hairs, or ruined fortune flout,
         With wealth your state, your mind with arts improve,
                Take you a course, get you a place,
                Observe his honor, or his grace,
Or the king’s real, or his stampèd face
         Contemplate; what you will, approve,
         So you will let me love.
Alas, alas, who’s injured by my love?
         What merchant’s ships have my sighs drowned?
Who says my tears have overflowed his ground?
         When did my colds a forward spring remove?
                When did the heats which my veins fill
                Add one more to the plaguy bill?
Soldiers find wars, and lawyers find out still
         Litigious men, which quarrels move,
         Though she and I do love.
Call us what you will, we are made such by love;
         Call her one, me another fly,
We’re tapers too, and at our own cost die,
         And we in us find the eagle and the dove.
                The phœnix riddle hath more wit
                By us; we two being one, are it.
So, to one neutral thing both sexes fit.
         We die and rise the same, and prove
         Mysterious by this love.
We can die by it, if not live by love,
         And if unfit for tombs and hearse
Our legend be, it will be fit for verse;
         And if no piece of chronicle we prove,
                We’ll build in sonnets pretty rooms;
                As well a well-wrought urn becomes
The greatest ashes, as half-acre tombs,
         And by these hymns, all shall approve
         Us canonized for Love.
And thus invoke us: “You, whom reverend love
         Made one another’s hermitage;
You, to whom love was peace, that now is rage;
         Who did the whole world’s soul contract, and drove
                Into the glasses of your eyes
                (So made such mirrors, and such spies,
That they did all to you epitomize)
         Countries, towns, courts: beg from above
         A pattern of your love!”
Online source The Poetry Foundation: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/173353
In case you’re in the dark about Donne. He was not a one poem hit wonder. The man delivered the poetic goods time and time again. He had The Right Stuff from start to finish. Yeah, I think he’s a damn cool poet even though he’s been dead for a few centuries.
*
Note:
On his way to a promising career, John Donne became a Member of Parliament in 1601. That same year, he married 16-year-old Anne More, the niece of Sir Egerton. Both Lord Egerton and Anne’s father, George More, strongly disapproved of the marriage, and, as punishment, More did not provide a dowry. Lord Egerton fired Donne and had him imprisoned for a short time. The eight years following Donne’s release would be a struggle for the married couple until Anne’s father finally paid her dowry.
*
*
So who is ready to lift some spirits with Love during this season of holy days ancient, current and future?  Everyone is invited to share, even if it’s only a single piece that matters very much to you. Share in the comments, post on your blog and drop a link here so that we’re all connected.  Small or large makes no matter.  Let’s celebrate Love for a few glorious moments together.
namaste
Bear: LOVE http://bearspawprint.wordpress.com/2013/12/13/music-themes-love/
____________________________________________________________
Eva: https://47whitebuffalo.wordpress.com/
____________________________________________________________
Johnny: http://johnnyojanpera.wordpress.com/
____________________________________________________________
Willow: http://willowdot21.wordpress.com/
____________________________________________________________
Deborah: http://myriad234.wordpress.com/
____________________________________________________________
D.S. Nelson: http://hatpaintladdersandwonkypooh.wordpress.com/

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