Hi and welcome to the Attic, I'm Frankenberry of said Blog Title and I write of just my everyday here, sometimes funny, sometimes heartfelt, sometimes angry, sometimes funny again because, well, who don't like funny, thoughts on getting older and sometimes stuff that's just kinda shit. I pen and sing the occasional parody tune and other songs, sometimes I even get a little bit poetic or short story-etic or something like that. If you're joining me here I thank you, but just mind your head and feet and keep an eye out for my little Bella and Cricket The Blind as well as the memories of Raspberry (Razzy), Mimi the Quirky, of Blink The Lil' Kit, Grayson the Mighty, Shoes the Big Orange, Shana-Girl, Benny Good Man Benny Brown, Merlin & Bob. Wouldn't want you step on them or anything … 'cause then I might just have to throw you down the stairs … damned humans.
Author: Stephen J Frankenberry
Just some guy in a Pirates hat, couple'o cats and this spot
There’s a certain almost … almost poetry in all that we do. You just have to find it.
Pea bounces a glared excited tooth happy growl, and I bounce along, feets, paws and hands up in the air like we just do care. Louie barks, incessant, loud, annoyingly now out the back door be gone with you my friend until, Chrissy spins, dances, dances in circles in a circus of dog, her head a ballerina’s held spot as her body swivels, Georgia gets impatiently, prettily underfoot, the prettiest of dog have ever I’ve seen, while also bouncing a following, Polly anticipates Polly and, Eve & Senta, wolf-size the envy, search empty garage cat food plastic flats from the night before waiting. Those cats leave nothing.
Me? I just marvel at their simple breakfast.
C’mon Spanky, little one, an “eye!” or not, my pirate, look down, focus, you too. Let’s eat.
A most bestest of friend of mine (yeah, I said most bestest … what of it?) who I sent a rough draft of this, texted me to complain of an ear worm. Apologies I said, but, selfishly, I’m all good with complaints of an ear worm. I’ll take that as a compliment to some of my endeavor’s annoying stick-in-the-headedness.
Though I recently posted my collection of Beatles/Trump tunes from the last year or so, The Orange Album, it seems that wasn’t a final Beatles piece. I’m thinkin’ I’d pair this version of Maxwell’s Silver Hammer with my version of Yellow Submarine, “Orange Quarantine” for an A and B side single if I could do such a thing. A good ol’ double sing-a-long. Tap a toe if you’d like.
Having your tower buzzed by 4 different stink bugs while watching Netflix on your Tab in the dark, the lone light being the TV on mute, but only securing 3 of them in your catch and release (window) empty cat food can before you’re ready to hit the rack even though you’re still very aware of rogue stinkbug #4 in the distance, who you’ve now come to call “Red” Baron Von Stinky Buzz, sounding like some sort of vintage prop plane at a barnstorming air show.
The definition of a wary sleep indeed, especially if you do so with your mouth open.
You know there’s something to be said about taking a moment, even at 3 in the morning on a Saturday night (Sunday early), so much in your head, sleep not coming, and being just in the middle of that “I got time” (Sunday) to “Dammit, I gotta get back at it” (eventual Monday) but enough to kick a foot or two back, for just that moment, headphones on, and Counting Crows “Rain King”filling your noggin. Bits and pieces plus the chorus of this freaking tune have been rattlin’ round my brain for 25 plus years now, might as well give it a listen in full anew huh? … even if it still makes me cry, all these years later. Not the song, but a so fondly remembered time.
Old girl Mimi the Quirky lays to your right at your PC desk, her favorite spot while you scribble at a keyboard, her quirk finally done while she does some no longer quirky simple sleepy purring, Cricket the Blind enjoys the foldover plush scent of a fresh change of sheets that you’re dearly anticipating behind you and “little” Bella clutches and lays on a favorite pillow on her couch in the living room after a long day at the Vet to check her Steve’s worry. She doesn’t like you right now. But you are still the Rain King, good or bad.
Then quiet.
There’s something to be said about taking a moment.
This is one I didn’t post on its own as opposed to all the others, I just added it to the The Orange Album when I put that together recently. It’s probably because I don’t know if I like it or not. Lyrically sure, I try to be as point as I can, vocally? Eh … and I was a bit lazy in not adding any audio clips.
P.S. Have a version of Maxwell’s Silver Hammer on the way. I know … exciting huh?
Bitter Orange Pill
(posted 12-27-19)
They hope and they pray
Repub’s on a hill
Their pockets won’t be exposed while for the Orange they shill
They know how he smugly owns them
Corruption his favorite tool
He gloats with the dumbest bluster
But the bitter orange pill
Is so hard going down
While the words out his head
See the world burning down
He get’s have his say
Trump truth now the way
The man of the lies by thousands de-clares them to be prayed
I sometimes, on Friday’s, will run to Hometown Deli just down the street from the radio station here to grab lunch, a maybe treat to myself this one day a week if I can. There’s no regular menu of the hot food at this place so there is always an anticipation of a possible welcome surprise (please be Chicken Francaise today … please be Chicken Francaise today). Plus, they know me and smile and say “Hi” and the cute girl in the glasses ringing me up has the coolest set of little tattoos behind her left ear. Can’t go wrong with that.
It’s expensive though. If I told you how much I make you’d give me 5 bucks a hug and start a Go Fund Me page, so it just can’t be a regular thing, however much I may wish it could. And even when I do go I can only justify it knowing that whatever I pick up is my whole weekend, dividing too many dollars by the number of meals I can get out of it to bring it down to something more mentally manageable.
Yes. I am sadly, though, gloriously pathetic, and I mean that. Gloriously. It’s also important to grab something that is OK cold for when I’m just too fucking lazy to put that something in the microwave. “Jesus, I can’t wait two minutes!’ Two whole freakin’ minutes?! And maybe one more after I stir it!? Shit!”
Last week they had a Philly Cheese on pasta that was perfect, and it easily passed the can ya eat it cold test. This week? Not so much. It was pork n potatoes with sauerkraut which you don’t wanna eat cold, believe me (and this is what this whole post is leading up to).
Sauerkraut should never, and I repeat NEVER, be used to accompany any food other than a hot dog under spicy mustard on a bun along with a beer in the cheap seats at a ballpark. NEVER.
And, as to ballparks, pitchers and catchers are almost here!! The surest sign of winter’s demise and where hope springs … for like 5 minutes as a Buccos fan. It’s a good 5 minutes though and I dearly await that dog and sauerkraut underneath that spicy mustard in the sun, preferably one with horseradish. The ONLY pairing of sauerkraut.
Oh, and an obligatory cat pic of course. What’s a Frankenberry post without at least one. A big bucket O’ Cats. Dutch and his pals.
So as I convalesce this now reminder of my creaky back 20 years later and 15 years or so before that, per doctor’s orders, I have been asked to step away from my new girlfriend, Heating Pad, take a time out, and instead embrace Ziploc Bag Of Ice Cubes Wrapped In A Towel.
Tell ya the truth it’s been difficult. Heating Pad and I were getting along so well. I had my cute nickname for her, “Heating Pad”, and she had hers for me ” “, an almost symbiotic unspoken thing.
But I understand. Doc’s orders are doc’s orders.
Though Ziploc Bag of Ice Cubes Wrapped In A Towel appears as nice as Heating Pad something is missing. I just can’t put my finger on it but this is a bit more, I don’t know, dramatic and definitely more immediate, a little colder too, but Ziploc Bag of Ice Cubes Wrapped In A Towel does still seem to care as much for me as Heating Pad so I’ll take it. I haven’t been much for having a girlfriend in quite some time so, to have two, in such a short period is certainly … well … something.
And I can’t be mad at Mimi the Quirky. She was just looking for company, something more than my simple lap could provide, and Heating Pad was on the rebound. Who hasn’t been there?
I also have a friend who owns a couple of smoke shops here in the area, he records his radio spots with me. They feature all the latest smoke shop type hemp infused stuff with initials and ominous names, “Release the Kratom!” None of that is my gig but he was kind enough to give me a cream … Peppermint tinged. It’s like I just left a pizza joint that imagines itself something more and grabbed a mint out of their seeming fancy wicker basket on my way out, only on my back.
But I will say it has worked better than Icy/Hot and hey, I love pizza and if my back is high? Why the hell not?
Well, I have found a somewhat contorted “sit” spot that doesn’t hurt (finally) so I think I’m done. I’ve got NCIS waiting on demand, as long as FIOS doesn’t piss me off and charge me for it (fuckers) or it’s just the last episode of season one of “Messiah” on Netflix (fantastic so far by the way).
Little Bella eschews all this nonsense and simply hangs with her pal Space Heater, Mimi the Quirky continues her affair with my kinda ex and Cricket the Blind chooses the middle ground on comfy sheets.
Ok then. Ziploc Bag of Ice Cubes Wrapped In A Towel and I have a date. Here’s to hoping I don’t say the wrong thing again and she throws another melted drink on my pillow.
So, after too many years I’m finally in a relationship again. Her name is Heating Pad, Heating Pad for short.
She’s very nice.
I met her at Walgreens last week after popping my back but good this past Tuesday.
Affectionately known as Heating Pad (nicknames are cute in the early stages huh?) she and I have been getting along quite famously. Though she’s not much for conversation I can tell she cares. We were introduced by a new acquaintance of mine with a Walgreens name tag who slyly pointed her out with a wink and a nod just past the aspirin.
My little Bella and Mimi the Quirky know a friend of hers, Space Heater, so the introductions here at the apartment have been pretty seamless.
Everyone gets along. Mimi the Quirky and she even “talk” on occasion when I’m not in the room, though I fear Mimi may be taking advantage of her affections while I’m away. It’s too easy a lay I fear.
Anyway, as Heating Pad and my relationship “heats” up if you will, along with a fling with Ibuprofen (I’m a bit of a floozy I’m afraid) I have scheduled another appointment with a doctor of the chiropractic arts for tomorrow after yesterday’s visit went spectacularly unwell.
Here’s to hoping. This shit hurts.
“What’s that? Yes, you can call me Pokey. What? Hey, Ibuprofen is just temporary, a fling, you’re my real girl. Muscle relaxant? She’s not even in the picture, doesn’t complete me like you. Can I still call you Heating Pad? … Darling? … I know … we’re WAY too cute”
I was gonna post a version of this earlier yesterday, after I had gotten in to work, while my annoyed pet peevy-ness was still fresh but the day ended up a being a bit of a bear, and time ran away from me screaming. Damned work getting in the way of a good post.
Anyway, I drive the on-ramp/off-ramp then on-ramp/off-ramp dreaded loops of the Mid Hudson Bridge/Route 9 every morning and then return home the same way, small, I’m sure, compared to big cities but still…
For those not from this area I apologize for the place specific but maybe, in general, you’ll get where I’m coming from.
So I thought, as a public service, I’d offer to help define that red triangular sign that you often see at points of roadways where they merge. A sign called “Yield”. Confused? Yield? I know.
“Steve, we ARE confused. But from where is there such a sign? We know of many road signs, “Stop” and … uh … and … ummmm … there’s a school one we think … and so many others but the one of which you speak is alien to us”
(Future reference, don’t say “alien”, I don’t even have papers readily available).
Maybe it’ll help if I said it’s the “upside down red triangle sign thingy with a word you don’t recognize and pay no mind to.”
“Oh yes … that one”
It’s meaning? “Let other road users go first. A yield sign assigns the right-of-way to traffic in certain intersections. If you see a yield sign ahead, be prepared to let other drivers crossing your road take the right-of-way”
For example in Illustration # “A” the “YOU” driver has a decision to make. You could actually heed the “upside down red triangle sign thingy with a word you don’t recognize and pay no mind to” and slow down or even stop, or you could just, instead, la-la-la-la song in your heart, phone at your hand, knuckle in your head, loop around and merge blindly while pissing me the fuck off as you almost catch my nose in your ass. Sorry, I should rephrase that.
This wasn’t yesterday morning though, that’s just my often evening commute. No, yesterday morning’s pet peevy-ness tips the annoyance scale a bit more as it involves the almost every day car behind me as I attempt to navigate an on-ramp/off-ramp then on-ramp/off-ramp while actually paying attention to this particular sign and the concept of “Yield” but in front of that person who views it merely as that “upside down red triangle sign thingy with a word you don’t recognize and pay no mind to.”
“Why are you stopping me?” the car behind me honks increduously while I offer a nice flashy bird. “ii1ii”. Damned birds.
Refer to Illustration # “B” (bear with the storytelling artist that I am not).
I wait, deferring to the Yield with clueless, honking eyes boring a hole in the back of head, and then move forward, though often thinking of putting BB (my car) in park and stepping out just to point, silently, with a Death’s cliche’d bony finger at that “upside down red triangle sign thingy with a word you don’t recognize and pay no mind to”.
… The End.
Ok, BB and I realize this isn’t much of a short story. There’s nothing to it other than the general circumstance of annoyance.
So … after a fender bender at a Yield sign, where their cars met nose to ass (re-phasing to come in the rewrites) a guy meets a girl, they exchange info (the cop at the scene was nice) they go out to dinner, they date, they move in together, they discover they moved too quickly, the girl calls the nice cop for help with an unwarranted restraining order, the guy grabs his stuff off the lawn, the girl and the cop date, they move in together, the girl gets bored and moves out but only after calling the cop’s ex-girlfriend, the guy writes a famous novel called “Yield”, the girl calls the newly famous novelist, the guy answers the phone, the girl winks, three families bond over their differences and a long lost Billy finally comes home, though he’s changed.
There’s warning light’s a flashin’ for a Trumpian reprieve
There was some election riggin’, with some Russians up a sleeve
But Dem’s they did some diggin’ to more meddlin’ goin’ round
And now they’re out to make sure that the walls they come down
There’s a meeting in the Congress they’re talkin’ of impeach
One side says yes let’s do it, to the other it’s a reach
But the other side’s brought nothing but debunked conspiracies
Goodness me could this be a Trumpian Disease?
The President feels justified in talking to the folks
Refusin’ to be quieted and sayin’ it’s no joke
His phone call it was perfect, no ulterior design
He wasn’t tryin’ get help for this new election time
But there’s panic for the Elephant’s these Donkeys all are nuts
The oft repeated tired spin will tell you what is what
That the problem that persists with the Dems all of the time
Is them fighting against great leader’s Trumpian Design
State news pundits sure are down with perpetuating lies
Even Moscow Tucker claims he’d be Ok with Russian ties
Of rooting them to victory if that need be the case
Or condemning ol’ Ukraine to help trump D who’s his ace
And Trumpy’s lackey lapdogs are now picking up the pace
Of lies needed protect him ‘fore the Senate do they race
Where they’re better able set the Circus Trump he so inclines
To make a victim’s case and prove his Trumpian Design
Now William The Low Barr declared
There’s no crimes to be seen here, he’s the President ya know
He’s above law, never fear
Now he hired me to be his hatchet gun and yes man shill
To protect from prosecution while I drink this orange swill
So I openly investigate investigators then
Prove wacky 4 chan theories of disloyal deep state men
So I can come back with a pre-determined breaking news release
That will prove out the correctness of a Trumpian Disease
Now we go down Washington DC where they’re in the muck
Of a swamp that ain’t been drained just deeper & run amok
With all his jailhouse friends most found under a bus
But there’s still some who are waitin’ to hear a pardon’s fuss
While his blood bound GOP who he’s got upon their knees
Say yes sir, no sir, of course sir, anything that you please
We’ll protect you oh great leader from the dreaded Dem blue sleaze
We’ll throw up smoke & mirrors for you on your Trump Trapeze
They’ll point out they’re the enemy to keep folks mute & blind
That they should be a’feared of Dems & all those of their kind
That they speak of socialism & the evils of the trees
But you’re the God chose new Messiah heaven gave ya keys
Meanwhile God just throws his hands exasperation real
He can’t believe what is unfolding just what is the deal
A party selling country out while building a lie shrine.
To their new Monarch’s Trumpian Design
Yeh, that’s it … a Trumpian Design … Hey producer guy? Yeh, you … can we get the sound of ya know of tanks and a flyover here or somethin’? … the sound of boots too, tall ones, really hard heels … boots doin’ some marchin’ … well crowd noise, good idea … get some crowd noise … big crowd noise though, ‘kay? … then, maybe throw in some of the best words from some of the best speeches … by any President … ever … this is gonna be great
It’s A Trump World We’re F****d And We Know It (And I Feel Stein)
(posted 08-18-18)
Not great it starts with a Trumpquake
Snakes breed Snakes, a new filled swamp,
Kanye West should be afraid
Lies form a hurricane, listen to his bluster churn
Trump serves his own needs, asks you of your loyal deeds
Speed them up a notch, ring, blind, bow, kiss, no
Safety net you splatter with the lies of the right,
Downright dumpster fire only help that you can hire must be true
True to sire’s white combat house
Democracy is burning in a hurry but there’s truthies Breathing out real news
Trumpy team believers baffled, truth, sends their world stop
Must send blame…anger…hate
Uh oh, info flow, population, cannot know
What Trump’ll do to lie to self, save himself
Trump serves his own needs watches as a country bleeds
Tells you he’s been God sent a chorus of the right, leans right
You hypocritic Patriotic 5 time dodge
But You’re feelin’ pretty white
It’s a Trump world we’re fucked and we know it
It’s a Trump world we’re dumb and we show it
It’s a Trump world he won and we blew it
And I feel Stein
5 am, Fox and Friends, a Trumpy Street day begins
Lefty burns, return, always loves himself in turn
Throw him in a big parade, bombs bursting, flags wilting
Every truth a danger now, lies must escalate
Build a fire, blame the fire, ride horse, shoot horse
Trample on a flag’s trust use it as a prop must
Wrap himself in fake’s lust
Call the news the bad trust
Repeated calls, chilling calls, calling of their “lies”
He offers no solutions, only state news fake productions and I decline
It’s a Trump world we’re fucked and we know it
It’s a Trump world we’re dumb and we show it
It’s a Trump world he won and we blew it
And I feel Stein …
And I feel Stein
It’s a Trump world we’re plucked and we’re naked
It’s a Trump world we somehow let him take it
It’s a Trump world we’re blind and we hate it
And I’m not mine
In daylight we de-cide whether we should fight or hide
Try to turn the tide,
GIVE THE TRUTH A RIDE,
Martin King, George Carlin, real news, Protest party, bubblegum, apple pie, Grandma, Ellis Island, Symbiotic, realistic slam dunk humans?
We’re right…Right?
It’s a Trump world we’re fucked and we know it
It’s a Trump world we’re dumb and we show it
It’s a Trump world he won and we blew it
And I feel Stein .
It’s a Trump world we’re fucked and we know it
It’s a Trump world we’re dumb and we show it
It’s a Trump world he won and we blew it
And I feel Stein
It’s a Trump world we’re plucked and we’re naked
It’s a Trump world we somehow let him take it
It’s a Trump world we’re blind and we hate it
And I’m not mine
It’s a Trump world we’re fucked and we know it
(TRUMP SHOULD SPEND SOME TIME IN JAIL)
It’s a Trump world we’re dumb and we show it
(TRUMP SHOULD SPEND SOME TIME IN JAIL)
It’s a Trump world he won and we blew it
(TRUMP SHOULD SPEND SOME TIME IN JAIL)
And I feel Stein ……(fading)
There’s warning lights a flashin’ for Darwinian reprieve
Somebody got a Bible got some Kansans up their sleeve
Their story’s in the paper there’s anger in the town
Somebody blew the whistle and the walls they came down
Theres a meetin’ in the courtroom they’re talkin’ origin
There’s teachers in the same room gotta get a win
Somebody brought that Bible and in the lord they signed
Goodness me could this be intelligent design
The President feels justified in talkin’ to the folks
Refusin’ to be quieted and sayin’ it’s no joke
Adam was Republican and Eve he said was mine
Part of god’s plan in our intelligent design
Now there’s panic in the hallways the Constitution’s nuts
Jesus was intended to show just what is what
But problems do persist in this nation that is mine
Of calling creationism intelligent design
Evangelists are down knew exactly who they bought
A President who’s blinded by his double talk
Of keeping Constitution in it’s rightful place
Of having judges judge by just what’s on it’s face
On Administration Fox TV they pray for a new court
That will take the opinion right on anything of the sort
Of religious nuts who insist theres a point to Jesus signs
And idealogues who invent words that mean … intelligent … design?
Now Doctor Darwin he declared
I’m not surprised to see you here you’re revisiting the scopes
No monkeys be taught here?
I don’t know how you came to teach the Bible as your prime
But worst of all my zealot you’ve got intelligent design
He wrote them a prescription that said here’s Church and State
I’d like for you to realize this and take that off your plate
Come back here when you see that’s it’s not the place or time
To be forcing us to teach your intelligent design
Now I go down to Dover PA where they’re in the muck
Of too many board members that wanted kids be stuck
And some of them said we’re brainwashed
Just mad it’s not by them
But theres some protest realists they’re singin’ a protest song
They say the zealots want a school that keeps the ministries
They wanna have a school that keeps kids on their knees
They wanna have a school that stops the dreaded Darwinese
They wanna have a school that says my god is right you’ll see
They’re pointin out the enemy to keep ya mute and blind
Those Darwinists are evil, and all those of their kind
They speak of evolution and a real rich family tree
But they miss all of the pandas … well can’t ya see it’s me?
Meanwhile Jesus says I think I know just what is due
All you nutjobs in my name you need to get a clue
The new name you made up to lend some viability
Intelligent design?
Hi and welcome to the Attic, I'm Frankenberry of said Blog Title and I write of just my everyday here, sometimes funny, sometimes heartfelt, sometimes angry, sometimes funny again because, well, who don't like funny, thoughts on getting older and sometimes stuff that's just kinda shit. I pen and sing the occasional parody tune and other songs, sometimes I even get a little bit poetic or short story-etic or something like that. If you're joining me here I thank you, but just mind your head and feet and keep an eye out for my little Bella and Cricket The Blind as well as the memories of Raspberry (Razzy), Mimi the Quirky, of Blink The Lil' Kit, Grayson the Mighty, Shoes the Big Orange, Shana-Girl, Benny Good Man Benny Brown, Merlin & Bob. Wouldn't want you step on them or anything ... 'cause then I might just have to throw you down the stairs ... damned humans.
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A personal exploration of autism from a brother’s perspective, including family relationships, philosophy, neuroscience, mental health history and ethics
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