Author: Stephen J Frankenberry

So an early, 4:00 am early, So Then Sunday post here.

For those that don’t know, a So Then Sunday post for me is like a Throwback Thursday, just not on a Thursday ’cause it’s, you know, a different day, not a Thursday, a Sunday.

A made up excuse to just revisit stuff.

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Stopped into Walgreens at the end of the week for a pick up of my don’t die on us just yet you bastard prescriptions and had the good fortune of the pretty pharmacy girl to wait on me at the counter and I was reminded of three things.

One: That pretty pharmacy girl.

Two: That with my impending move I would have to find a new Walgreens. Sigh.

And Three: This post from October, one of my better and most viewed ones. Thank you discerning readers. I applaud you like in parades.

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I Noticed

I got a bit melancholy tonight as I thought of younger days in my made excuse to hit the pharmacy on my way home for a third time in three days claiming old and having forgotten something the first two times around. The melancholy? The pretty Walgreens pharmacy girl. An unintentional intentional forgetting I guess.

I had been there twice in two days, for legitimate reason, the first to the refill of the relatively recent prescription I have of the smallest of pills that are now old man necessary in the largest of ways to keep the blood pressure on keel and then the second, the next day (after I had forgotten to get it all done in one) to a refill of the other pills that I am life tied to now after having discovered an adrenal deficiency that landed me in some hospital shuffling nine days sock footed sliding slippers shift slide dance with nurses and visiting doctors and pudding seven years ago.   

But the melancholy came from this third day where I told myself I had to, with ulterior motive, go back and grab some Pepto that I had forgotten to pick up on either day to try and hold off the eventual nights where my heartburn or something of the sort keeps sleep at bay and has become quite a bother. I also thought to maybe pick up anything else for appearances sake in case my obviousness of a single item was noticed, paper towels would work I said to myself, yeah, maybe even some TP and Tums and …

I stepped up to the pharmacy counter, sorta fake purchase in hand, hoping to finally have a sec after the first two trips netted only her coworker and his remarkable beard and perfect quaff of hair above it.

She (the day three reason) immediately recognized and checked the alphabet drawer boxes under “F” for a bag around all the others in an overstuffed pharmacy library (so many people, so many ailments) without me asking.

She gave me a “???” look.

“Ok, sorry, nothing to check for me there right now, I’m all medicined reminded old dude good” I said “I just thought I could pretend that I am checking on prescriptions so I could ring my things up here instead of that line up front that is about a dozen people long, including at least two older women maybe getting ready to pay with a check.”

“Sure, only for you” she said with a laugh and a fetching smile.

I suddenly found myself being young again and talking to a pretty girl and remembering when I would have done such or do such now, usually pretty awkwardly after a maybe initial burst of confidence.

I let her know that her new dark color wave of whispy long flowing shoulder falling hair was a great look and sans glasses too, working even better simply for the change of it, which it did, does.

“You noticed?”

Any guy who has missed this is an idiot.

“Well yeah, of course” I said “been meaning to point it out (been dying to) but I just haven’t had chance to be at the counter with you to tell you so”   

She smiled a million dollars.

Now, I have long ago given up such things, appealing to pretty girls like I were young again knowing that I have really nothing to offer now, I am broken, old, have suitcases of shit, history under my eyes, have very particular single habits, I have vices, I have broken myself almost intentionally after too many reasons to break, my breath is hard fought these days, I am out of shape, I am a single dude with two cats (formerly so many missed more) and whatever sad cliché that might imply, my care of such worries only put to the wayside for times to write of things just like this, but she smiled those million dollars and for just one moment I was not my aged age any longer and I was reminded that she would have been just who I would have awkwardly tried to grab the attention of back when. The pretty girl who would have caught my eye and maybe a me hers if I were so lucky.

And that was it, though I will have to refill my stay alives in another month or maybe even go through paper towels and TP waaaay faster than any single guy should.

I got a bit melancholy tonight.

“You noticed?”

“Of course I did”

So many idiot guys.

Came across a few articles earlier today at the station in some downtime between the end of the recording of one show and the waiting to start the recording of another of some fashion “choices” or possibly “dares” from the Grammy’s, a collection, for the most part, of photo’s of really unfortunate Red Carpet outfits, and I mean really unfortunate.

Look, I know this is the gig for award show events, any of them, for spectacle on the red carpet, for some outlandish outfits to really dash your fashion sensibilities and even if you don’t have any fashion sensibilities make you suddenly develop them specifically for the purpose of then having them dashed.

Sequins came up a lot in the pictures I couldn’t turn away from and surely had some rubbernecking company going on around their car wrecks besides mine, at least one outfit seemed to be missing the pants portion of it, while another couldn’t find the portion where it’s middle was supposed to be, one looked like the red carpeteer had fallen down into a field of flowers after being a bridesmaid but covered in glue, there was an apparent hand me down suit from a much larger older brother, a dress that seemed built with extra “backup” folds of material sticking out from the chest in case it was found necessary to possibly patch up any malfunctions or disasters in a sudden emergency like say the dress being run over by someone’s dressing room trailer in a moment of spite, there was a layered pink ball skirt meets bondage thing just minus some dude on all fours on a leash in an equally pink tutu with a ball in his mouth, there was what looked like a teal sweatsuit meets bell bottom flashbacks and super hero chic (it came with a cape), there was country goth, there was even a spaceman all in black look with a hoodie, suit jacket, sweats, goggles and helmet all atop some space age snow shoe looking sneakers (no surprise that that was Will.I.Am) but my top 3 were these …

Harry Styles as court jester in a sort of harlequin one piece that the King didn’t even know he wanted to entertain in his court until he thought to himself “Yeah, I didn’t want this”, Shania Twain after getting kicked back up the rabbit hole and out of Wonderland showed up in this wished Lewis Carroll meets a black and white Twister board meets Gandalf, then one that was described very kindly in one article with “All I can think about is the rows of people not being able to see the stage because of this dress. Yes, it’s beautiful, but not for a seated event.”

Actually no, that’s not it, it’s not what any of us would be thinking … at all.

It’s a tree. She’s a tree (though surely the camera’s are Mom & Dad click clicking away at the school’s arbor day play).

Now there were, still, some really nice tasteful outfits but they were overshadowed, of course, by these outlandish, though I did continue to not be able to turn away from as many pictures I could take in in this short period between recordings window of mine while judging them all in a 16 year old Mighty Mouse T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that I also wore yesterday so who am I to judge?

I know “envy doesn’t suit you Frankenberry” and point taken, though I think I might have to get a hold of that teal cape to go with the even older Underdog T-shirt that I plan on wearing tomorrow in the same pair of sweatpants.

Hey!! I air them out overnight!!

I am stressed

I am upended

I am uncomfortable, my underwear doesn’t even feel quite right, I keep hitching it to one side or the other “fuck you other side, this one is mine”. Well, these particular ones are also going on 20 years old as my laundry has become a bit stacked with packing, so to backups …

I know it is just moving, but it’s my thing now, boxes, shit, stuff, stuff as shit, shit as stuff, lift (mind your back), place eventually, promise some friends and nephews pizza and soda’s to help, the ones that can be bought with such, charity downsize, stop, put lift down, you got this, but this too soon as they are always too soon a move has been weighing on me.

I said to my exe’s son years ago when my Benny had found his other place, no, not in some rainbow’s bridge journey nonsense but just found his end game after a wondrous lifetime of stuffed mice and laps and balls with bells and bells with balls and neighbor’s front yards and flower patches “Do you know how many physical places Benny and I have lived in in his 16 years?”

“No”

“15, and that’s including the years here with you and your Mom”

It was nomadic and a nomadic I had become accustomed to but then the years in temp spots started to build, five years with my Sis and my Brother, eight years with the ex in two places, though the last couple might as well have been a moving away, just to an upstairs in what would become Frankenberry’s Attic, then three years escape to a wonderful little two bedroom spot with new friends who had dogs and cats to give me paws up on my come homes and two humans who even helped save my life from emergency discovered deficiency things once (always grateful Bren & Bob, always) then to six years in this hardwood tall ceilinged spot, but still never quite roots, this latest of cats and dogs and even birds though was a whole new experience, one I will dearly miss.

Morning open door: Hello new puppy!

Morning open door: Hello new puppy! You have a friend now?!

Morning open door: Hello new puppy! You have multiple friends now?!

Morning open door: Hello new kitten (Dex), whoa stop there needle teeth, that shit hurts!

Morning open door: Hello Georgia (shaky butt), Hello Pea, Hello Ms Chrissy (can I get a kiss?), Hello Polly, how’s the leg? Hello Louie you loud freakin’ bastard you, bring it down my friend, yes, that is the coolest of pineapple chew toys, no, I know you don’t really want to give it to me, just present it.

Morning open door: Hello Mabel, how’s about’s you and I dance? (if only I could dog)

Morning open door: Hello “Boo”, Ms Honey Bob Tail, Hello Florida, hello Handsome, hello Trucker, hello Millie, hello Loki, you’re quite a dick you know, hello Penny, hello Lola (slap ‘em away Lola, it’s just you and me girlfriend) hello Chubs and your little prairie dog stand ups at the crack of a cat food can …

Morning open door: Hello Dolly with a song in my heart, Hello Bruce, did you fuck with Pea yet today, Hello to the young brother and sister combo, Phat Tail and Squeaks whose front legs run straight at you his while his back move about all willy nilly as if on a swivel.

Morning open door: Hello Bella, you can’t fly but you can walk in a Groucho Marx kind of arm’s length way up to a shoulder and have me worried of nibble ears

Morning open door: Speaking of birds Hello Rico and Birdy Ray, yes, my shoulder is good for a landing and my beard could use a bit of grooming. Thank you

Morning open door: Hello Tank, you were given short shrift, literally with your tiny block kit, from whoever builds cats but you were a trooper

Morning open door: Hello Blue on my driveway up, day one, you big chested soft hearted scary monster you

Morning open door: Hello Cricket, how’s bout’s you and I bond and what of your friend Mimi? Yeah, you too old lady. Bella won’t be happy though.

Morning open door: Hello Blink, I’ve so missed you.

Morning open door: Hello Cujo, no you can’t bite me today.

Morning open door: Hello BW and Ghost and Curly and Lumpy, no, won’t make any attempts at pets (well not you Lumpy, bellies all around) not your thing, understood, but here is your water, drink your water.

Morning open door: Hello Diesel, yes you have the coolest name for a Pug ever! Hello Benny, Oh I see your nose poking out of that blanket you have wrapped yourself in like a small doggie burrito in your comfy bed, no, don’t get up, you’re good little man.

Morning open door: Hello Spud you handsome orange bugger, like my dearest Shoes, hello Bunny of the bent ear, hello Sunny of an equal bend hello … shit … just a lot of hello’s.

Morning open door: and close.

This is not like any other move of mine, it belies just the simple shit you can be Ok without in the paring down of things as moves should do but there are names, were names, memories and currents that are so difficult to part with.

That is hard this time around and as this this isn’t old days of new days either where you looked to new horizons, some promise, but I will find some anticipation still, no matter it being lesser than it was, age is age, time is time, and time has a habit of being just that, fucker, and windows become smaller, like by a lot, but, still, I will find something.

I have been part of a radio show for going on 12 years now and the guests of this show are all self help gurus and life coaches as that’s a thing that exists, charlatans all, a thing, and they would all probably tell me the same … just envision where you want to be, who you want to be, envision your best self and let it materialize In front of you like magic.

Well, I’m old now and that “magic” though well intentioned in pretty, sometimes even clinical scientific sounding ways is just that … “magic”

Just move forward Steve, that’s it, just move forward, stay above ground, plus you still have the “stuff” of memories of opened doors and … you also still have a lot of shit that ain’t hit a box yet

I am stressed

I am upended

I am uncomfortable, my underwear doesn’t even feel quite right …

Son of a bitch

I know I posted this only last week but part of it was bugging me and I did a bit of a revision. It was a little monotonous in the verses so I changed up a couple of them.

Much better now I think and still fast with a shitload of words, loves me fast with a shitload of words

My response to the silliness that is the “God Made Trump” video.

Cheers Kevin MacLeod and thanks for the perfect tune to fit what was in my head.

“Boogie Party” Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com)
Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0
http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/

So back in ’46 when God took a break

After world at war that had so much at stake

He blinked for second and before he knew what

A Fred had had a son who would think he the one

To lead his people to some new promised land

But a one where democracy could no longer stand

.

Well God said then I hope this ain’t a mistake

Just wanted take a sec and a little wine break

But future he could see at the hands of Fred’s son

Who’d find ways to rake in some new fresh coin

And adulation

From every sunup

From those just off a turnip truck

.

He’d think Prez down escalator to ride

A gold idol though behind God he’d try hide

He’d play up charlatans and God speaking Jakes

They’d get in prayer circles hoping then just to fake

His true Christian values that could be on the take

For just the right price

New discipes would buy right?

.

But then he got sold

On all he was told

And started to believe that God had foretold

That he was the chosen of new myth of old

Reality of course now it be on the run

At Rally’s he’d exclaim oh what such fun

To smite the nonbelievers

Who’d soon be cursed ones

.

Then God said oh me just what have I done

Can never take a Me damned break no matter the fun

Though that was fine wine worthy even of nuns

I must be on my toes truth it’s under the gun

At the hands of true believers who turn now to song

To praise an orange fraud they think’ll rise like the son

.

To deliver them a hero in a new paradise

Devoid of immigrants just gotta call ICE

He’d be the caretaker of their righteous white world

Where enemies in fetal poses they would be curled

He’d fight off the Marxists and the fascists to boot

His projections of the enemy would be such a hoot

.

To call them fascists while he’s making such plans

To make democracy a now also ran

He’d have his true believers seeing future in sight

Whatever he says conservative on the right

Not on the far left where the vermin do land

They need be threatened dead now that’s a good plan

.

They say he’ll be a guy who could shape and ax

But also wield a sword though that’s quite a task

He was brave in North Korea while stepping a foot

Thankfully no bone spurs de-ferred his look

But he gloried love letters of he and an Un

Such a nice fella who could take a sweet turn

.

But then he got sold

On all he was told

And started to believe that God had foretold

That he was the chosen of new myth of old

Reality of course now it be on the run

At Rally’s he’d exclaim oh what such fun

To smite the nonbelievers

Who’d soon be cursed ones

.

Then God he sat back and just shook his head

He’d said look what I’ve wrought in the U.S. of stead

I’ll surely face my wrath for what I’ve let done

And that wrath being mine won’t be as fun

I’d like me as God show discipes the real light

But they’re lost now don’t even realize their plight

.

That in a den of vipers he’s the head one

Leading all the rest to follow his red forked tongue

He’d offer Eve the Apple saying speaking of tongues

Leave that loser behind I am your one

Like the naked look that you got goin’ on

Now drop the fig leaf and let’s take the plunge

.

Adam … go away will ya? … busy here

You’re messing with my tiny mojo

No, God ain’t looking

D’ya think he cares?

.

But then he got sold

On all he was told

And started to believe

That God had foretold

That he was the chosen of new myth of old

And his discipes he continues to mold

.

They gather at his rally’s put together fan schlock

That God gave us Trump the one who’d care for the flock

A shepherd to mankind they say without jest

And surely damn you libs don’t put us to the test

He speaks of retribution he’s a man of his word

Unless you call him on it then he’ll say that’s absurd

.

So God sat back in a comfy cloud chair

To look at what was happenin’ down there

And orange idol thinking he was sent by me

Disciples feel the same but just for a fee

That’s when God said I think I’m done

Back to that glass of wine yeah that would be fun

Cause though he knows he dropped the ball in ‘46

He is still all seeing and likes his kicks

Maybe kill the bottle then for even more fun

Don’t know what could happen when God gets drunk

Maybe a something to get him out of his funk

.

Yo!

Angels?!

Yeah!!

I need another bottle!

And somebody … get me my files on divine retribution

Ok, I have talked (posted) of this before but it bears revisiting as this continues to be a dirty fingered bone of bagel contention and also a point of fascination for me, never ceasing to amaze: The Ongoing Great Bagel Dilemma (paraphrasing and plagiarizing of that older post allowed because, well, I wrote it and this is my blog not yours).

We get a tray of bagels delivered here at the stations from a local deli once a week and generally my co-workers tend to follow a pretty simple, dignified bagel etiquette – rush the tray, knock people out of the way or push them down like you’re sacrificing them to the bear that is chasing you at a National Park after you tried to take an ill-advised selfie just so that you can survive and get a free bagel and then go back to your cubicles and do sales people cubicle things, or studios and do radio DJ people studio things, or to your business offices to do business people business office things, or to your mansions and do … whoa!! How the hell’d you all get in here?! We do radio, no rich folks allowed!! Out!!! Be gone with you!!! Don’t make me stab you with this plastic cream cheese knife!!! … (muttering to self) rich folks, freakin’ mooches!!

As you can tell, free food can cause quite a stir and is one of the only real perks of working in radio and always has been (no, meeting “rock stars” doesn’t count because that’s pretty fleeting, their autographs aren’t ever worth shit and they never have free food on them – you’d think they’d at least have grabbed something from the backstage spread and stuffed it in a pocket – ok, maybe that’s just Bill from accounting who was wearing an all access lanyard) but at least no one was hurt in this week’s bagel go round, though, like car accidents where you don’t notice at first, there could still be residual effects and a back or neck complaint that might be lodged in the coming days.  

But that thing that never ceases to amaze me that I mentioned above (and most certainly isn’t just us in this workplace) is the person or persons who don’t want an entire bagel but still feel the need to leave the unwanted portion on the tray, like to leave that portion of the bagel they don’t want is some sort of grand magnanimous gesture that will be applauded by their co-workers.

“I do not wish an entire bagel” they say to themselves “but I will leave the portion that I do not desire to my dearest of co-workers and they will thank me heartily for my selfless consideration especially when all the bagel bounty is nearly depleted”

Ok, here’s the thing and it’s pretty simple.

Just take the whole fucking bagel!!

Nobody is going to pat you on the back for this consideration, the leaving of a partial bagel so that someone else may still be able to benefit from your largess. Just take the whole bagel and throw half of it away for all I care.

And I don’t want to hear about what your mother admonished you with when you were younger about wasting food “you’re not going to finish that!! Shame on you!! Do you know there are starving children in (fill in country) who could live on that half a bagel for a week!!!”

Just suck up the lifelong guilt that you suffer every time you throw away any almost still good bit of food and take the whole fucking bagel!!

Or wait, I don’t know, save it in some of the plastic the tray was wrapped in and maybe have it for tomorrow?! Woah, there’s a novel idea!!!

But if you insist on being one of these annoying partial bagel people here is a pretty simple approach and with pictures to make it easier to digest.

The bagels come pre-sliced so if you really do only want a partial bagel take the top half or the bottom half:

Bagel on the left.

And, boom, that’s it, no other options.

Bagel on the right?

You are obviously an uncultured peasant. No one will thank you for leaving them this partial bagel after the initial rush on the tray has rendered it almost bereft of bagel purpose and possibly left some of your co-workers with limps or neck aches, because now you have manhandled it with your filthy meat hooks and torn it like some sort of barbarian and no one wants that … no one!

NO ONE is taking what your dirty flesh paws have left them, especially the orange one, whatever the hell flavor of bagel that is.

I may have mentioned this already, but in case you missed it, just take the whole fucking bagel!!

Please!!!

And don’t get me started on if this partial thing happens with the free donuts from Dunkin’ that show up magically on occasion because that’s just wrong!