Aaaaand it’s fake Friday again! One tiny problem I have with the calendar is that it’s so repetitive and predictable. That’s why I like Friday Fictioneers — a 100-word, picture-prompt writing challenge over at Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, Addicted to Purple — because it starts on Wednesdays. And I think you’d agree that nothing spices up the week like having Friday on Wednesday! Anyway, here’s this week’s picture prompt by way of Scott Vanatter: (copyright – Indira)
Mr. Sims and the Maple Bar of Death
“No, Mr. Sims, you misunderstood my instructions.”
“But you asked me if I wanted to do a donut, so I spun out.”
“No, I asked if you wanted the rest of my donut.”
“So I flunked my driver’s test?”
“That will depend on your three-point turn.”
“I can do that with my eyes closed!”
“Careful Mr. Sims! That’s a sheer drop off . . . LOOK OUT!”
When I woke up this morning, my brain, Peanuts, had been dreaming about fishing with my dad. My dad loved going fishing and this post is about some of those happy memories.
Father/Toddler Hunting Trips
Fishing is one of the main things I can remember doing with my dad, besides going on Pheasant hunting trips with him when I was really little. On these hunting trips, he would balance his loaded gun on the front seat of our Pontiac at the ready, and I would stand on the front seat next to his loaded gun.
Of course, this was way before seat belts and car seats. Little kids simply stood on the front seat of the car or sat in the back seat when they got too tall. In this case, because it was just my dad and me, I got to stand in the coveted spot on the front seat right next to the loaded gun.
I remember my dad having a can of Olympia beer between his legs and every once in a while, he’d slow down the car to shoot at a Pheasant through his open window (that’s where the hunting part came in) and then he’d take a sip of his Olympia beer. (Probably in consolation for having missed it by a mile.)
If my dad would have had a Baby on Board sign in the back window in those days, it would have said:
Fishing with Father
Anyway, when my dad would take my two brothers and I fishing, he would make each of us a fishing pole. He’d cut a long branch from a tree and tie fishing line, a sinker and a hook to the end of it.
Then we’d pull out a poor, defenseless, angle worm from our coffee can filled with them — digging up worms being one of our many personal pursuits at the time — and affix the poor dear to the hook. (The whole thing just seems downright cruel thinking about it now.) Then we’d stick our lines into Coppei Creek and sometimes we’d even catch a fish!
Giving Suckers More Than an Even Break
The ones my brothers and I always caught were called suckers, and we had to throw them back because they weren’t good to eat. But for some reason, the ones my dad always caught were called trout; those we’d eat.
My dad taught us how to clean fish when we were pretty little. We’d cut into them and peel out their innards and launch the whole mess downstream. Thinking back on it now, it’s a wonder we didn’t get typhoid from eating the fish we caught in Coppei Creek.
Before Bruce Willis
One summer, we went on a vacation to Coeur d’Alene lake. Back then, it was just one of many Podunk lakes within driving distance of our town — way before Bruce Willis and his trendy ilk/elk moved there.
On that vacation, I caught a seven-pound “junk” fish. Boy was it ugly! It looked just like the fish pictured below that was recently caught alive, a lovely little fish thought to have been extinct for 65 million years.
Poor thing would have been better off extinct!
We were all afraid of the junk fish I caught. I made my brother, Peter, take the hook out of its mouth. And I remember Peter told me, “If you’re old enough to fish, you’re old enough to take the hook out of its mouth.” And I thought, “Gee he’s right.” He was nine and I was six, but I never forgot this sage piece of brotherly advice.
Boy Those Flowers Smell Healthy
The proprietor of the resort took the seven-pound junk fish off our hands and put it in the flower bed in front of his store to fertilize his flowers. He didn’t bury it, so it laid there decomposing for the rest of our vacation.
Everyday we’d walk by it on our way to the lake. It was kind of sad really. The more it stunk the more we realized our vacation was coming to an end.
That’s all the time we have for fun with dad memories, Dear Readers, but I hope you’ll check back in for more Fun with Dad (and maybe even Fun with Mom) memories which I’ll write about as soon as my brain, Peanuts, remember some!
Over the past couple of years, my wife, Victoria Splendoria, and myself, P. Donald Xavier, have become avid Dwell Magazine readers. Not only do we totally approve of the urban-contemporaneity; but also, we just go gaga over the pictures.
I have attached a photograph of Victoria Splendoria, and myself, P. Donald Xavier, and our adorable baby, Tylenol Cold and Sinus®, relaxing in our Dwell Magazine inspired contemporary home environment.
“Honey where’s that can of Cream of Mushroom soup?” “I threw it away!” “But why?” Because we’re minimalists, Victoria Splendoria, minimalists! That can of soup was cluttering up the cupboards!” “But I’m hungry! And so is Tylenol Cold and Sinus® !” “Oh for goshsakes! Quit your bellyaching and come and enjoy the minimalism with me and little Tylenol Cold and Sinus®!
Victoria Splendoria and myself, P. Donald Xavier, just love to sit outside the printing press where Dwell magazine is published every month so that we can be the first ones to get our copy hot off the presses! And we just can’t wait to return to our minimal living room to curl up and enjoy each and every issue with our imaginary espresso.
Victoria Splendoria and myself, P. Donald Xarvier, often fight over who gets the cement slab and who gets the wire stool, while we take turns thumbing through Dwell Magazine. It’s so funny! You should see us. Sometimes we even laugh, not out loud, of course, but in our minds!
We’ve recently re-designed our bathroom more in keeping with the minimalistic lifestyle as dictated within the pages of Dwell Magazine. I think you’ll love what we’ve done. Here’s a picture:
“Honey, where are the towels?” “I threw them away!” “But why?” “Because they were taking up too much space.” “Honey?” “What?” “Where’s the toilet.” “I threw it away.” “Why?” “It was cluttering up the bathroom and ruining the minimalism. Just go to the gas station.”
Anyway, Victoria Splendoria, and myself, P. Donald Xaxier and our adorable baby, Tylenol Cold and Sinus®, would like to thank, you, the editors of Dwell Magazine, from the bottom our hearts for teaching us that throwing away everything we own, sitting on hard surfaces and staring into space is the secret to making it feel as though maybe we are living a long and happy life!
Ambitiously, resourcefully and counter-conventional-edgily yours,
P. Donald Xavier, Victoria Splendoria and adorableTylenol Cold and Sinus®
Oh Dear Readers! Look what crossed my path yesterday at the used bookstore!
A Sports Illustrated Magazine from 1963! Isn’t it wonderful? Let’s flip through it together, shall we?
Here’s 1963, Master’s Champion Jack Nicklaus singing the praises of the MacGregor Woods with their exclusive penetrating impregnation method! Wow! Now that’s impressive!
Golf in 1963 was sure a lot more interesting than it is now.
The ad goes on to explain that the exclusive penetrating impregnation method was the most talked about club feature in golf! (Well, I should say so!) “Because it let’s you use a wood with confidence in bad lies.” Gosh I wonder if Tiger knows about this?
Hey! Who doesn’t want to live in a world where shirts were only $5.00 raise your hand!
Shh . . . don’t tell Mr.Sophisticated City Dweller who is wearing his Dacron Docoma Breeze shirt that the poor country bumpkins who just got off the b.u.s. are laughing at him not with him.
Stuffed shirts didn’t come any less wrinkle-free than in 1963 thanks to Docoma Breeze shirts boasting Grip-Tab, Dress ‘n Play, Blake collars — which only cool city dwellers could afford at $5 a pop. And if that didn’t make a man want to drive around Manhattan, mannequin-like, in a car three-sizes too small –1963 doesn’t know what did!
Don’t Worry Honey! Kent’s Micronite Filter makes cigarettes good for you!
This Kent ad is the very first and the very last ad to utilize the phrase “refines away”.
Apparently back in 1963, the key to smoking fun was getting the cigarette to have the mildest taste of all! Kent was hoping that smokers wouldn’t put 2 and 2 together and realize that the mildest taste of all would be not smoking any cigarettes at all.
Question! What’s more fun than shooting guns with daddy? Shooting guns with daddy in the house! What else?
Run for cover,Sis! Look out Spot! Whoops sorry, Dear!
What better way for fathers to bond with their sons and to teach their sons to grow up to be men than by shooting bb guns with them in the house? Oh sure, a few of mother’s prized figureens may have to be sacrificed, and little Suzie’s buttox will probably never be the same — but it’s a small price to pay for teaching little boys what it really means to be a man — 1963 style!
Now then wasn’t that fun? I hope you liked our little foray into the world of 1963, Dear Readers!
Rochelle Wisoff-Fields at Addicted to Purple is the host of a writing challenge called Friday Fictioneers and, as such, posts a picture every Wednesday to serve as an inspiration to writers everywhere, whether they be from planet earth or from one of the other fifty billion planets that are now thought to exist in the Milky Way alone.
Here’s this week’s story-inspiring picture:
Mr. Flibbish’s Resume
Hello Mr. Flibbish. Your resume says you worked as a plasma donor?
Yes, I was responsible for sitting until they told me to get up and go home.
Excellent! And what did stock photographer’s model entail?
Standing where they told me to stand.
Uh huh. I see. And you were the “feels like guy” for Weather.com?
Yes. I stood outside and reported back what I thought the temperature felt like.
Oh very good! Now, we just have one last question. How do you feel about pointy objects?
I love them!
Congratulations, Mr. Flibbish! You’re hired! Welcome aboard the Rent-a-Centurion team!
Hello Dear Readers!Well it’s time for the 33-word, weekend Trifecta Challenge. If you haven’t tried the Trifecta Writing Challenges yet, you should! They are so much fun and a great way to hone your writing skills. Today the Trifecta Challengers have asked us to write 33 words describing summer.
The Sun’s Summer Fun
Sun looks innocent
Sun shines rays in eyes of kid eating Popsicle until kids trips and drops Popsicle
Hello Dear Readers! Lately I’ve found myself hanging out with a lot of really fun dead people!
You see, I’ve been surfing YouTube and watching clips of the old talk shows of the 60’s, 70’s and 80’s. These shows are a treasure trove of legendary showbiz types. Here’s a couple of people I have a new appreciation for thanks to YouTube videos.
Oscar Levant
“There is a fine line between genius and insanity. I have erased this line.”
Fascinating Oscar Levant, a multi-talented genius.
Oscar Levant was a pianist, composer, humorist, actor and author and was famous for his witticisms in radio, television and the movies. He suffered from neurosis and hypochondria and he was frequently committed to mental hospitals by his wife.
When asked by Jack Parr what he did for exercise, Oscar Levantreplied: “I stumble and then fall into a coma.“
Still, he was talented as all get out and had a sharp wit and boy oh boy could he play the piano!
“In some situations I was difficult, in odd moments impossible, in rare moments loathsome, but at my best unapproachably great.”
Oscar Levant died of a heart attack at age 65. His death was discovered by his wife when she went to get him for an interview with Candice Bergen (Murphy Brown) who was a photo-journalist at the time.
Oscar Levant wrote three memoirs: A Smattering of Ignorance,The Unimportance of Being Oscar Levant and the one I just ordered, TheMemoirsofanAmnesiac.
Phyllis Diller
“I asked the waiter, ‘Is this milk fresh?’ He said, ‘Lady, three hours ago it was grass.”
Phyllis Diller was a comic and so much more.
“Housework can’t kill you, but why take a chance?”
We all remember Phyllis Diller as the wild-haired wife of Fang. But she was also an accomplished concert pianist and performed with orchestras all over the country as Dame Illya Dillya. She also loved to paint and many of her paintings have been bought by art collectors.
“My mother-in-law had a pain beneath her left breast. Turned out to be a trick knee.”
Phyllis Diller was the mother of six children, three of whom she outlived. One of her daughters suffered from schizophrenia and was institutionalized for most of her life.
After watching YouTube clips of her, I learned that she attributed her success in life to a book she described as life changing called The Magic of Believing by Claude M. Bristol. She talks about it here:
Hello Dear Readers. What do you want to do today? Maybe you feel like writing a 100-word story explaining this:
No not this arrow. The picture below it!Copyright -John Nixon
MidlifeCrisis
He was in the process of changing careers?
Yes, Officer, he couldn’t take the clowns anymore, or the cutbacks.
Cutbacks?
They stopped providing seltzer and Bozo uniforms.
Really?
I mean, have you seen the cost of clown shoes lately? We’re still paying off his clown-school student loans for godsakes!
So he enrolled in–
Human cannon ball college, yes, that’s right, Officer. It was his final examination.
What a pity! But I didn’t realize there was a human cannon ball college in town.
There isn’t. This was an online human cannon ball college.
Probably not a good idea.
In hindsight, no.
Word count: Exactly. 100. Words. Yay!
This is the Friday Fictioneer Challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple. To participate, all you have to do is look at the picture. (You don’t have to look at the picture, but it’s easier when you do) and then write a story with a beginning, a middle and an end in 100 words or there abouts. And link up over at Addicted to Purple.
Hello Dear Readers. It’s time for the weekend Trifecta Writing Challenge: This time we are asked to write a complete story with a beginning, middle and end in three sentences.
Welcome Readers and Writers! Come in! Grab a handful of letters from Linda’s Big Bowl 0′ Letters and a big glass of Tang and let’s have fun Blogger Style by making a 100-word story out of them for Friday Fictioneers.
Oh and don’t worry about spilling any Tang on Rochelle’s carpet, I’m bringing my cyberdog, Constantinople; he’ll lick up anything. (And Rochelle will never even know! Ha!)
Here’s this week’s Friday Fictioneers’ story prompt picture!
Copyright – EL Appleby
Trouble with An Aging Parent
“Dad! Look at this mess! The DNA beakers got all jumbled up in that last storm!”
“Keep your robe on, Shem. I’ll sort them out later.”
“But, Dad, you shouldn’t have just set the beakers so haphazardly on the shelf like that! They’re breakable for heaven’s sakes!”
“What do I know from beakers? Besides my arthritis was killing me, oy!”
“Dad, what did Japheth and I keep telling you over and over, huh? That you were too old to build that ark by yourself, didn’t we?”
“Nonsense Shem! I’m 600 years young!”
“And now your arthritis is acting up again, Dad. Happy?”
Hello Dear Readers and welcome to Screw It Monday where we don’t do anything at all. Today, we’ll take a look back through the archives of this blog and pull out something from the bottom. (Please ignore the mildew!) This is called:
Aliens Secretly Study Humanity Under the Guise of a 1960′s Sandwich Cookbook.
I know it’s hard to believe, Dear Readers, but after carefully examining the above peculiarly- worded cookbook from the 1960’s — it quickly became apparent to me that this is not a cookbook at all, but, in actuality, is a scientific study of the human race conducted by aliens from the planet Zorin!
Shall we turn to the first page?
Sandwiches for the Small Fry
As you can see by this heading, the aliens are going to great pains to make us believe that they have full command of English language idioms. Apparently they think these children are idioms. Apparently they think the entire human race are idioms!
The aliens go on to explain to their fellow Zorinians that sandwiches in the small fry’s “carried lunch” should be “made of bread” and that fruit should be eaten out of the small fry’s “hands” and that “milk should be sent from home in a small vacuum bottle”.
The aliens stressed that Zorinians should not confuse “Small Frys” with “small order of fries” even though both are equally delicious.
Let us move on (quickly!):
Taste Tempters for Teens
After much concentrated study, the aliens have ascertained that this is a fair representation of the typical eating behavior of the human “teen”. And they go on to state that “teen-agers are a mystery” — adding that “boy or girl their appetites are immense” even “staggering.” The report emphasizes that human “teenagers” have a “bottomless appetite” and an “endless thirst.” Information that probably raised a Zorinian eyebrow or two (or seven).
Next the aliens attempt to enlighten Zorinians about the mystifying behavior of:
Picnic Packables:
As you can see from this heading, when it comes to alliteration, the aliens are definitely on-board the human-language train! Even going so far as to use the word, “packables”. Well they aren’t billions of years more advanced than us for nothin’!
At first, the aliens were in total disarray as to what the father figure pictured above was doing. But after intensified study, the aliens came to the conclusion that this particular human being’s lower appendages had collapsed by a whopping fifty percent (perhaps from carting around Picnic Packables?) and when that happens, human beings must squeeze a circular object with their “hands” for prolonged periods of time in order to restore proper appendage positioning. The Zorinians got a good laugh out of this one!
Well that’s all we have time for today, Dear Reader, but rest assured there are plenty more Secret Studies by Zorinians about the Human Race hiding within the pages of 1960 cookbooks and I plan to expose every single one of them or be abducted trying!
Hello and Welcome Dear Readers! This week’s Trifecta 33-word writing challenge is to write a story about the picture below.
Where’s–
“Hey! Is that him over there?” “No ! Like I said, the guy we’re looking for is wearing a great big, goofy red-and-white-striped sweater.” “But that could be anybody.” “Tell me about it.”
Of course, we’re all looking forward to the beginning of summer, but here’s some signs you might be over-anticipating the summer fun.
You’ve replaced all your belts with inner tubes.
“Really, Barbara, must you wear that silly inner tube?” “If I want to keep my pants up, I do, Betty!”
You refuse to eat anything that doesn’t come on a stick.
“Hi, yes I”ll have a corn dog.” “Sorry, we don’t have corn dogs.” “Then give me some cotton candy.” “Sorry, no cotton candy.” “Popcicle?” “Nope.” “Shish Kabob?” “No.” “Would you by any chance have a carmeled apple or chocolate banana on a stick? “Just order a Happy Meal, Bub.”
You’ve asked Al Gore for a little extra “fun in the sun” global warming.
What’s that? You want a little more global warming? Oh yeah? Come up here a minute, I’ll give you a little extra global warming!”
You’ve got a bee up your bonnet and you’ve never been happier!
“Yes bees! Summer’s here! Somebody get me my bonnet!”
Two Words: Thong City
What? Wait . . . not those kind of thongs!
You’ve gone a little crazy because you can’t find your pail and shovel.
Wait a minute fellas! Dear God! Is that my pail and shovel over there?
You refuse to relax on anything that doesn’t inflate.
“Come on Marge! You’ve been out there 17 hours. Don’t you want to come in for dinner?” “That depends . . .did you get the inflatable dining set blown up yet?”
You’re getting a reputation as someone who has a lot of beach balls!
“Wow! Those are impressive balls!” “Thank you!’
And there you have it Dear Readers! Now get out there and have a great weekend.
