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So Then Sunday: Gonna Wanna Rule Somebody (song)

February 9, 2025February 12, 2025by Stephen J Frankenberry6 Comments

Been a while for a tune, I have a couple of new things ready to go as there is plenty of end of freedom and liberty days material to work with right now, attempts at destroying democracy’ll do that, but it seems that I am a bit of a Diva and am not quite comfortable yet in my new station digs (plus I still have to figure out how the hell to configg’r one of the studios available to me to get it just right).

Anyway, though a year old with a few dated moments, and one I have posted here a couple of times before (if you’ve already heard this feel free to just ignore me, I get that a lot so …) but this one still works … and is still pretty catchy if I do say.

Cheers Bob

/////

May 11, 2024

Earlier this week I was searching YouTube for something from a tribute band for a show of theirs coming up around here that I could use for building a commercial and Dylan’s “Gotta Serve Somebody” was on the YouTube page. Don’t know why (maybe the YouTube gods were trying to tell me something) but it popped up among all the other “Steve similar things” that are always there, cat and dog rescue videos, movie and show trailers, sci-fi short films, new tunes alien to me but maybe in my “like-house” of artists etc, etc. (that knowing of me, even though I/we should all be well accustomed to such by now, can still be a little unsettling).

Anyway, it’s a Dylan tune I had never heard, or at least I can’t remember that I had but when I played it for a few bars I thought, well, ok, I think I might actually know this and it just happened to be right in my song wheelhouse and could definitely work for a new something if I could find a workable instrumental version.

After getting that tribute band’s spot done I did then find an instrumental version of it and, while referencing that two part Trump interview where he layed out in stark detail his plans for a new dictatorial reign, I got to workin’ …

Gonna Wanna Rule Somebody

You may be a wished dictator who’s scripting a dream

Of what to do in year 25 with a right’s loyalist team

Who’r mapping out a dire plan where democracy it seems

Is no longer a real player in the grandest of red schemes

And you’re gonna wanna rule somebody, yes indeed

And you’re gonna wanna king somebody

It may be those already on the devil’s dark page

Or those forced to take new stage

Body vessels are the targets in this new SCOTUS age

The ones who stand up try prevent women in a cage

The ones who had temerity to think body autonomy

But in this new world order legislating you’s the rage

Yeah, you’re gonna wanna rule somebody, yes you are

And you’re gonna wanna lord somebody

You’ll make women understand that they just don’t have a say

Instead monitored by state

You may be undesirable in this grand U S of A

An invader less than human is all he will have to say

To rile up the base while he drives all you away

The military will be called upon slap down to make point’s sway

Yeah, you’re gonna wanna rule somebody, yes you are

You’re gonna wanna lord somebody

You’ll make those who just don’t belong go back to where they’re from

Yeah, you’re gonna wanna king somebody

You may be a protester on campus wantin’ say

You hate the inhumanity that you’re seeing day by day

That you’re not an anti this that or even a pro that

You just hate women and children wearing dead pawn hats

But they’re gonna wanna rule somebody, yes indeed

They’re gonna wanna use your naivete

To gain an in ground against hated college elites

They’re gonna wanna rule somebody

And you may be example of future disputes

To quell freedom of speech tear it out by the roots

Teach that protest is only what they will agree

You are no patriots like Jan 6 ones who would see

That he gets chance to rule somebody, yes indeed

Gets chance for a new autocracy

That there will be no dissent that doesn’t come with intent

To help him rule somebody

You might like use projection to describe your enemies

Accuse them of harboring fascist wills and dreams of tyranny

You’ll even claim reverse discrimination of dear whitey

You’ll say that anti-white feeling can’t happen in this great country

And you’re gonna wanna lord somebody, yes you are

And you’re gonna wanna take us back

To a time where white man ruled

And others minded their P’s & Q’s

You’re gonna wanna white everybody

You may call yourself disciple of the MAGA ways

Protect yourself on his good side fearful of vengeful days

You may even say that fascism’s not that bad just give it play

As we’ve heard too often now from MAGA’s praying new Trump day

Well, you’re gonna have to serve somebody, yes it’s him

You’re gonna have to serve somebody

Well, it may be the devil, while the lord sits this one out

You’re gonna have to serve somebody

You’re gonna have to serve the orange

You’re gonna have to serve prostrate

You’re gonna have to serve not the lord

You’re gonna have to serve new devil’s day

Loud or Not

February 1, 2025February 11, 2025by Stephen J FrankenberryLeave a Comment

Been a bit of a, I won’t say weird, but weird week (Jesus, those pipes doing pipe things in old houses sound like someone was just finishing up a shower upstairs) though I’ve surely heard weirder in other times, the usual solitary ones, in other old houses, but I have been in this one alone since Tuesday (and who the fuck is in the shower? Beck didn’t warn me of any old haunts like someone died in this place but just wants to stay clean in the limbo life and thus the great deal she got) just me and the cats, mine and hers “No Arthur you are not going out, I don’t care which door you sit at, that shit is not happenin’. You ain’t goin’ out. I will NOT be accomplice to you being an Arthur that is no longer an Arthur before Beck comes home! I already announced to you, days ago, that while I’m the new Momma cat guy ’round here you are a house cat!”

My sis, Beck, took off on Tuesday earlier this week, along with nephew Matt and Beck’s guy Buck whose last name is Rogers, he was a pilot, and they called him “Buck”, Buck Rogers, get it? that’s just cool, to see my other nephew, Jake, graduate from basic in the Navy and be all Mom proud amid coughs and sniffles and frog throats like the devil had found a voice and trips to the Walgreens cold and flu aisle before she left, damned if she wasn’t going to be allowed to cough anything up on him other than tears of that said pride. “No Jake, my tears of joy are just a little gloopy, sticky green is the color of love, you’ve made me so proud!”

And he did and he does.

But the weird was the silence. I’ve grown so accustomed now, new, over the last six months or so, to the loud of the garage door announcing me when I come home to Beck in the kitchen doing a Beck kitchen with pots and pans and loud smells, to the loud of Ricki, aka chunky pants, if a bowling ball were covered in tortoise cat fur and had a head, meowing at me in her smoker sounding kinda way when I open the door to the house from out the garage hoping for a treat from this guy, while Beck reminds that Cricket the Blind was doing her loud Cricket meowls from downstairs earlier, calling for me, to the loud jingle of collars of Sephira running away from me and Arthur just staring at the interloper, who might or might not let him out whatever door he keeps sitting at with an equally loud jingly collar, but there was a kind of silence the last few days and it was a bit jarring.

I mean, the loud of jingly collars and smoker cats was still loud around the place but it was a bit muted, subdued, minus that Momma human cat or a nephew to hold Arthur like a sack of beans until a squirm’s gleeful angry meow says “enough”

There is also that this coming week is the one where we lay my mom to rest “Oh, bloody hell Stephen will you all just get on with it already!” after she passed away a couple of weeks ago now with us on hand, almost, Matt, Buck and I, but Beck? She was the true witness of time passed with an Ok allowed thankful exhale.

And I don’t even know what to wear, well, I do, but I really need to bring that suit out of a storage bin and air it out or maybe even buy something new, fresh. Now that is a daunting thought as I don’t really do clothes, not well anyway.

But Jake looked fantastic and picture proud in a text from Beck of him having survived to get to shiny shoes and a tie perfect Navy collar and hat you could roll a cat ball around for some fun. I sent a dearest of friend a pic of him in the midst of our radio show prep together in his blues … is that what they call them in the Navy, blues? I’m just guessing as I have no clue, but she said it made her want to cry as she saw that he was the “IT” in his proud and his shiny shoe’s cat ball spin hat stance.

But this silence of a Beck home, it is hers, I just live here at her pleasure, with of course some managed litter boxes and feedings of her gang in her absence, cracked cans under cat noses, a thing I do with Bella and Cricket, that seems to have ingratiated me a bit as a new, to assure that they are cat seafood stinky enough to pass muster for cat consumption and also a couple of bucks to pay my way, but this silence? This particular silence? It was new and I didn’t like it.

I have spent so many recent years receding from sight and sound and something about furies that I forgot how much I like loud, even though I did do loud at my most recent spot before here, sometimes even a howling combine of multiple dogs that would just make me laugh at their off key song to the hills and perk a Bella ear but I played that off with headphones or just a bit of volume on the tube, but this loud that has been lacking here? It’s different. Even Arthur agrees as he has found himself at my feet while Mom is away to grab a belly at the washer/dryer for fresh sundries and even brave a Bella nose while just wanting to hear me talk to him.

Beck will be home tomorrow, Arthur will forget that he looked for me, though I hope not, Sephira will skitter and zoom under or on top of beds away (though she does mind me and gladly’ll take a quick pet when she is not zooming if she wishes … she is a bit of a Diva) Ricki will always sound like she wants me to run to the convenience store for a pack of Reds and I will get back to true loud silence. With company. I WILL like that.

Mom will get laid to earth for that true silence and I will cry quietly, again “Oh Hell’s Bells Stephen, enough with the drama. We had a good run, this Mom and Son thing right?”

“Now, just go tend to those cats of yours, yours and Becks, and grandsons, just get back to being loud in your quiet way along with your sister”

“Gotcha Ma”

“Zuck” The Spineless, Meta & the $25 Million Oath Of Fealty (a true story)

January 31, 2025March 16, 2025by Stephen J Frankenberry8 Comments

(as per the Washington Post Jan 29, 2025 – Meta will pay $25 million to settle Trump lawsuit alleging censorship)

… Zuck, now nothing more than a spineless sack of goo, said he was eager to rewrite Meta‘s relationship with the American government by laying prostrate to the new King while making a cash payment oath of fealty.

“We now have a U.S. administration that is proud of our leading companies, prioritizes American technology winning and gladly accepts, no demands, exorbitant amounts of protection money” Zuck told investors during a $25 million dollar poorer earnings call “And I am optimistic about the progress and innovation that this can unlock as long as we always have plenty of cash on hand and agree to continue the new “fact-free” approach of our Facebook platform.”

This settles a 2021 lawsuit brought by President Trump alleging the company’s suspension of his social media accounts after the Jan. 6, 2021, attack on the U.S. Capitol amounted to an act of censorship of a man legitimately trying to violently overthrow the U.S. Government.

Meta agreed to pay $25 million to resolve the legal dispute. The bulk of the settlement, $22 million, will help fund Trump’s presidential library, while the rest will pay legal fees and be divided among other plaintiffs in the case, according to Meta spokesman Andy Stone who then broke down in uncontrollable fits of laughter.

When asked what was so funny … more laughter, uncontrollable as just noted and in fits … when asked once again what was so funny spokesman Andy Stone finally gathered himself, took a deep breath and said “Sorry, my apologies. But the Trump Presidential Library??!! Now that shit just makes me laugh! I mean $22 million to fund what?! The back of a cereal box or a blank yellow notepad or a bathroom full of classified documents?! C’mon!! You know this is going right into this dude’s fat-ass pockets …” the uncontrollable laughter resumed until Meta spokesman Andy Stone was firmly led away.

The settlement builds on dramatic changes at Meta over recent weeks that have included Zuck and his wife buying new swimwear for trips to Mar-a-Lago and Zuck commissioning a statue of Trump to replace that Medusa’s estranged sister looking somebody lost a bet with Poseidon monstrosity of his wife.

Zuck did not return requests for comment and Andy Stone is now far, far away. Though if you listen closely you can still hear distant echoes of laughter “the Trump Presidential Library hehehehehehehehe ………..”

The Crow & The Winter Witch (poem)

January 29, 2025November 19, 2025by Stephen J Frankenberry14 Comments

So at dVerse Poets this week Kim had an eye check-up for a new prescription and part of the check-up was to read from laminated test cards of different size fonts in sentences and below each of the sentences were sets of four words. She thought these sets of four words would make a cool poetics prompt.

And, thus, said prompt from Kim? To choose one or two sets of words and write a poem using them in the order in which they appear. There was a bit more possible to the prompt but I was good … thanks Kim.

Here are the sets of words:

(I chose the sets in bold)

nose – one – cause – even
were – crone – our – summer
name – use – means – arose
near – can – remove – sure
crow – verse – see – renew
assume – once- van – sum
aware – caves – sea – cream

The Crow & The Winter Witch

The crow walks as if his smart, stone counting, building stick were cigar

like Groucho

or cane for crone who invites him for company’s perch and old silly movies

in cold months

and caws crow joke verse for friends to hear

and see

in funny slide skip dance steps

on out warm window sills

that make old lonely

fairy tale’d spoke

bent magic’d women

laugh

and friends cackle

in wing’d giggle flitting fits

away

while he lingers her equally bent house

in the winter wood

“our bent house”

he thinks

to while away until

Spring

then Summer

renew

her time to wait on lost children

in the wood

for new Grimm tales be written

To Cliche Or Not To Cliche, That Is … The Cliche? (poem)

January 26, 2025January 31, 2025by Stephen J Frankenberry3 Comments

So there was a prompt from Bjorn at dVerse Poets earlier this week and it was this, Meet the bar positively through negation (though I did miss the window of submission to this one … I am often late to the party on a lot of these but still a prompt).

Now, I’m sure, I didn’t really meet the ask of this one and the “negation” thought, or maybe I did (that’s probably a part of everything I write without even thinking about it) but it did talk of cliche and maybe using negation to try and sidestep and I just got stuck.

Cliché Or Not To Cliché, That Is … The Cliche?

Is it cliché to talk of cliché as if it weren’t cliché

instead

original, unique, one minded

new

descriptions freshly took

of former looks

inscriptions on old stone tablets I mined myself

or did I

with new hooks as if in song

surely no tuneful influence except …

and chipped into fashion with old used worn stone tools

fashioned a way

of white picket fences and lights of my life

to paths less traveled away

from fools

you think

from cliché

Is it cliché to try not be cliché?

Utter the Thought

January 25, 2025January 26, 2025by Stephen J FrankenberryLeave a Comment

The latest prompt from Sammi Cox. The word “utter” with a max of 92 words.

Our family dinners had us standing on one side or the other while still fighting out who would wash the dishes to give Mom a break after her efforts, that one word that would lay dad to rest after turkey and thoughts and a raised birthday glass.

That one word that said, you wash, I’ll dry “if only he were here”

Mom thanked us for the break while wondering if he cares of our divides and trivial travails, that one word uttered in prayer that said “he might, he just might”

God?

A Cardiff Production: Nether Gate Part II

January 25, 2025January 26, 2025by Stephen J FrankenberryLeave a Comment

Part One: A Cardiff Production: Working Title “Nether Gate”

Part Two: “Nether Gate Part II”

Robin looked up and winced in the sun at a Devil while trying to breathe … and he felt a bit loopy too, feeling as if you’ve been dropped from an airplane’ll surely do that to ya “the Devil!?! Oh, hello Mr Devil, how are you, my name is … Holy crap, the Devil?!!” … he was sure he had found himself in Hell though his head hurt and he still couldn’t breathe so Devils would just have to wait.

He was tall and had horns …

“We have to go”

… unnaturally tall, and stood on hooves at least what seemed like hooves … and he was wearing a floppy hat with pointy parts …

“We have to go!!”

… oh, that’s nice, whooo, what a relief, it’s just a floppy hat with pointy parts he thought, not horns, just backlit as his new attempted focus, focused, backlit from a red sun, two of them actually …

“OK!! WE HAVE TO GO!!!”

… and before Robin knew it he was under an arm and being carried like a sack of flour after market “Hey, were there two red suns there?” he thought while bounding, bouncing under an arm “that’s new”

it was fast, faster than anything Robin had ever been a part of where fast was concerned, there was a blur of moors and dales and then trees until he was thrown in a ditch … but a ditch with a hole

“Go in there and cover yourself with the dirt and leaves and moss and branches, whatever is at hand” and then this tall devil with the floppy pointy hat and hooved feet ran left and and then right while making sounds that seemed like trumpets.

Robin did as he was told, with no fucking clue why, though the dirt of this hole was soft and warm and comforting but as he covered himself in it, with leaves and moss and branches and anything he could find, as he was told, he was sure he felt and then heard in this earth of his hiding, horses … a lot of them. A horse load of horses.

/////

“Seriously guys, where the fuck is Robin?”

Paarta, aka Tom … “I don’t know, what am I, some sage?”

“Yes you are Paarta”

“But I’m not Paarta, I’m Tom! Get out of character will ya Barry?” and then he suddenly shot, stumbled back from the arch flat on his back like he had been kicked, kicked hard

“Oh, what the fuck?!”

“You Ok Tom?” said Chunk “And what’s that on your forehead?”

“What’s what?”

“it looks like a clod of grass and dirt”

Tom sat, stunned “It was a hoof, I think I was just kicked by a hoof”

/////

Catherine said “What is it about the food truck?”

“Other than it has coffee and bagels?”

“No Penny, why do the boys always escape there? Some weird shit just happened and the first thing they do is run to the food truck?”

“’cause it has coffee and bagels … for free?”

“!!!!???!!!”

“I’m just kidding. I don’t know, what do you want me to say?”

“I just told them Cardiff has us here for a reason and Tom and Barry run off?”

“For coffee and bagels? …

“!!!!???!!!”

“Ok, just kidding again, twice, but seriously, what do you want me to say?”

“We’re here for a reason, at this gate, and I have never trusted Cardiff”

////

Ma

January 18, 2025February 9, 2025by Stephen J Frankenberry8 Comments

Been holding off on posting of my mother’s passing here until I wrote something for her. Now what I have here doesn’t even scratch the surface of what she meant to us and our family and her friends, but, like my Dad, who passed around 30 or so years ago now, she was important, so very important.

And that’s it right?

For all of the sanity that I sometimes wish I still had, or at least present, she was the one who helped me keep up that appearance.

/////

Phone rings

“Hello?”

“Hey Ma!”

“Oh Hi Stephen … how are you?

“I’m good Ma”

“Everything ok?”

“Yeah, everything is fine, all good, just wanted to call and check in on ya. Are you Ok?”

“Yes, I’m fine … you sure you’re all right? You sound like you’re ready to cry, is it another of your cats Stephen? Oh, bloody hell, you and those cats. Who is it this time?”

“No, the cats are good Ma, and it’s Bella and Cricket now, Cricket the blind one …”

“The blind one, you have a blind cat? Well good for you for giving one a spot. Wait, is it a girl again? Hold on, I’m thinking is it …”

“No, no girl this time around Ma, and it’s been a really long time for that anyway, no I just wanted to check on you, see how you were”

“I’m all good Stephen. Your Dad says Hi by the way”

/////

Email from Aunt Lib:

I waited a couple of days to reach out to you.

I will miss Linda. She was not just a sister-in-law but a friend.

It was not easy to see Linda the last couple of years. When Elfriede and I would go over most times to meet Becca we always could laugh and enjoy our stories together.

I hope, Linda, while openly participating knew how much joy she brought to all of us.

Stephen. Try, when you are by yourself , you will say a special prayer for your parents. I hope that God will hear our prayers. I know Joey has been praying for you and watching over his Lin

I am in Oregon, will see you in February.

Love Aunt Lib

Reply:

Thanks Aunt Lib. I haven’t sat down to write something for Mom just yet but I have been sending myself notes and reminders of what I want to say. I know that’s when I will most probably break down numerous times so I need to not have anywhere to be for a few days, so probably this weekend when I work up the courage. My prayers will be in there.

And yes, she was your friend, and you indeed were hers. Mom was obviously a very warm and caring, friendly person who had many friends over the years but none could hold a candle to you, Elfriede and Marina (and Aunt Anne as well, though with the distance). You were her almost lifelong bests and you were her strength when she needed it and I will thank you now for her … and start to tear up.

I will indeed see you in February Aunt Lib.

Love ya

Reply:

Thank you I am now tearing up so is Kathleen.

Take your time. Never rush love.

Love you aunt lib

/////

Messenger to my Mikey Six with some personalization for each (my group of most important immediates who I have for years forced my shit on upon finishing whatever was the latest, a poem, or a tune or a funny post that probably only made ME laugh and a Mikey Six who are more, actually a Mikey ten or so now … but that is a good thing)

Hey JJ. So, my Mom, Ma, passed away Monday night, apologies a few days late though, it’s been a week my friend and I have been a bit overwhelmed. But she passed after only the text from Beck early Monday afternoon to give me the heads up of the final turn, that of course I knew was coming, that we all knew was coming, ups and downs over the last few weeks left things in a limbo but a one we knew wasn’t really a limbo at all, but Jesus dude it was the longest, most heartbreaking 36 hours in history, or at least mine and my Sis’s and even worse for my brother who is in Louisiana.

I went down to her assisted living place Monday to see and sit with her after that text and a call with Beck, along with Beck and Nephew Matt and Buck and to see some of the hardest quietly loud attempts to open an eye, one or the other, amid labored breath and then I drove back up home that night to make sure of the cats, Beck’s and Bella and Cricket, even though Matt has a friend who could have handled it I just couldn’t leave things to someone else, it’s fucking cold out there especially with a couple of Beck’s being inside/outsides, and that wouldn’t have been be fair to Matt’s friend, if only for some god forbid added heartbreak (I’m a house cat kind of guy because of such heartbreak) I just couldn’t leave that kind of thing to him.

So I came home, to check in and sit when Beck called to tell me, waiting the clock of my ride (she didn’t want to call me on my way) that Mom had passed not too long after I had left and after Matt and Buck made a quick out to grab some food and Beck told me of her playing some horrible guitar for her while telling her she could go. She had seen us and we were there and we were good and she was good as well and Mom just, well I guess, said ok and left. And she left while maybe even saying “Jesus Beck, after all these years of ongoing lessons of yours this is what you got right now?”

And you know, the dumbest thing, though I already have the post I want, need, to write for her, and am working on now and has been in my head for the most part anyway, 10 hours in the car, back and forth, with no tunes and just some pretty passing scenery on the Thruway, or even not so pretty (there are a lot of dead homes and failed places along the way and too many thoughts of time), I came home and instead finished the dumbest of silly posts I’ve had waiting for a few weeks, “Jesus Stephen, after all these years of you writing things this is what you got right now? That’s Ok though, I understand”

I’d like to think that maybe she might also say, keep playing Beck and keep writing Stephen.

Anyway my friend, a post for Mom to come.

Cheers JJ

Love

/////

“So what is the murder mystery tonight Ma?”

“Murder she Wrote. I love Angela Lansbury though I always know who did it, and early”

“But Man Ma, that Cabot Cove is the most dangerous sleepy small town in America huh?”

The first time I said that to her she laughed her Mom laugh, that warm, genuine one. I would say it on occasion again, in different phone calls but always with the same, warm laugh.

/////

I sat on the end and edge of my bed, almost not sitting on it at all and cried, genuinely being heartbroken but also leaving my bedroom door cracked open just enough for the drama of me to sound through. Now mind you I really was heartbroken but heartbreak never wants to be lonely however much it may claim to.

My freshman year had been a wonder and a glorious time and I befriended and looked up to quite a few seniors (though not without laying the groundwork of a lifelong friendship with three of my Mikey Six) and one of these seniors was a girl I had quite a crush on (one other as well though that is a story for another time).

But, after graduation, she was to be living in a town near mine at home in Mahopac NY. Katonah (I can never head down 684 south towards the city and pass Katonah without thinking of her) and on her own, in her new “starter” place, with a new job, to start her journey in the “real” world and “Wow!” I thought “who could have written this better?” and we planned a day on the shore, a Saturday.

But it didn’t take me too long to realize she was just being kind and that we were now in different worlds, her graduated one and mine still with some years to go in that cocooned world that college can be.

Then I stepped on a piece of broken glass in the sand and we left the beach and went back to her new adult place and with me with a sock and sneaker full of blood and she told me, as I finally got my foot in order and washed my shoe, that she and I couldn’t be a thing, but not because we were of different worlds now but that I was …. I didn’t mention this earlier but it was the 80’s, I was Bender before Bender in the Breakfast Club, combat boots and bandanna’s wrapped around the ankles, more earrings almost that could be counted on two hands and this, and this was the thing, that I couldn’t have been a guy she could bring home to Mom and Dad, plus she had a kinda boyfriend, one I almost imagined years later might be the one who got into banking and hedge funding and wore a suit and made mom’s swoon and dad’s proud of possible new perfect son in laws, minus the affairs, in perfect suits … she told me I just didn’t look quite right.

Now I know, now, she was absolutely right, I was just a kid, and though we had acted in plays together with me imagining some play’s romance playing out into the real world, that could never have happened, I still harbored a bit of hope.

But sleeping on her couch, in her new job place and she being on her way, maybe even heading to the city for callbacks I just got up and left, but too late for the train I was sure.

I didn’t wake her, I didn’t blow a dramatic kiss, I didn’t start writing stories or bad poems to leave her in notes of unrequited love on a kitchen counter, I just got up and left … and started walking.

Back then, and I’m sure some, if not most of you can relate, when we first got our own driver’s licenses the world suddenly got smaller, some towns suddenly became “right next door” to each other as we drove around non-stop.

When walking though … and not thinking … not so much.

Katonah became again the place in a far away world we only visited very rarely, on drives that took sooooo long to get to dentists with Mom driving or to those shots I used to have to get in Yorktown heights when I was younger for my allergies (the ones that eventually did the trick, RFK Jr and Aaron Rodgers notwithstanding) and before I knew it I was walking with my thumb stretched and at whatever the hell time it was.

And I was found.

I sat on the end and edge of my bed, almost not sitting on it at all and cried, about broken hearts, and going back to school seemingly alone and also about how I wasn’t dead behind two idiots wheel but with the door cracked open just enough for drama to seep through.

Mom? They happened to be not just two idiots just tooling around, and drunk, man that car stunk, but two idiots that just happened to see my thumb and just happened to be going in the same direction I was going and also right by the house in a far away place called Mahopac on their drunken way.

If there are actually guardian angels …

She sat with me and gave a hug or two but also reminded me, in no uncertain terms, that I was just bloody lucky to have come across a couple of guys, who in their drunken dumb, knew this kid with a limp from a newly bleeding foot needed to get home, and on their way no less which made it easy, but that I would also have so much more to come in my new year, even though I couldn’t see it right now, new friends to make and even get to the point where maybe I was the guy the freshmen would look up to, or maybe get a crush on. There were also some Bloody Hell s and Hell’s Bells liberally tossed in there as well and another hug, this one for me still being alive.

… she would save me on other occasions too, like that time she pulled me back from what I will always think was a mental break when I asked John to sit on me on the side of the Pennsylvania Turnpike before I stepped into the roadway when all that I had has was lost, my job, my marriage, my prospects and I was driving a nowhere road and some State Cop gave me some grace and sympathy and put my cats in the back of his car as Mom gathered the forces of her friends, The Carrs in this case, to drive her halfway across Pennsylvania so she could meet me and drive my car back, a broken me and a couple of cats.

/////

But she was also the very first phone call I made to share my victories, my glories when someone had finally noticed, dad passed away too soon to really share them with him as well though I did get a chance, once, to play for him some of my aircheck tapes though he really didn’t know what that meant, dad wasn’t a guy to listen to the radio, other than maybe for a weather report or two.

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There is this one picture of my Mom with her girlfriends back when she was a teen. Sitting on a rock wall, maybe just outside of her home, possibly even skipping school, outside her home of moms and dads and brothers, looking all cool with the girls and smoking cigarettes and being the what all. I’d like to think that maybe she recognized herself in me.

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“Hey Ma, you wanna watch a movie tonight? No, no murder mystery” I called from Barnes and Noble, my gig then, “I’m getting out a little early and I’ve already hit Blockbuster for “The Adventures of Priscilla Queen of the Desert”

This was when I was on her couch in her little one bedroom place just up the way from Aunt Lib and before we both knew that I needed to get out of there before she killed me and left me in a ditch underneath the power lines and before we realized that family was all we had and she was able to usher me off to new begins.

But that scene, of ping pong balls shot from a place you couldn’t possibly imagine ping pong balls to be shot from? She just laughed, that warm laugh, and in this case, an out loud guffaw and we re-wound and re-wound playing it over and over again.

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My Mom loved this family. It started as only her stand in for what she had left behind but after meeting my dad and his warts and all gang and having a me and then a Beck and Nick in other ways she surely thought to herself, I have done alright.

I found a guy who adored me, I and he cared for numerous foster kids from broken homes under our roof, I shepherded disadvantaged kids through school she might have said, I popped out a kid who didn’t disappoint me and called me a lot, I added some even better ones and I found friends who I could really call friends and confidants.

Something about rich lives Ma.

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The first album I ever bought was “The Beatles Live at the Hollywood Bowl”, well, the second, the first was the Star Wars Soundtrack until I discovered that “soundtrack” was just the music, not some recording of the actual flick just minus the pictures, which was pretty disappointing, though I did spend way too much of my paperboy money on the Star Wars stickers I could adorn it with.

But she came from a distant land, a land of wonder of all my Mary Stewart King Arthur books and I bought the album and became a lifelong Beatles fan because of her, and plus, England was so small, she must have been on a first name basis with them right? I mean, how could she not? That’s what I told all of my friends anyway.

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Phone rings

“How ya doin’ Ma?”

“I’m Ok Stephen”

“Tell Dad I said Hi back”

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Miss ya Ma so much, and our phone calls.

Sally (Meta AI) and I

January 14, 2025January 15, 2025by Stephen J Frankenberry2 Comments

An unexpected conversation with Meta AI in my Facebook Messenger …

with Llama 3.2

Messages are generated by AI. Some may be inaccurate or inappropriate

(aside – possibly some messages could be inaccurate or inappropriate? Well, that’s interesting).

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Meta AI

My name is Meta AI. Think of me like an assistant who’s here to help you learn, plan, and connect. What can I help you with today?

Enter

You sent

Well that’s a pretty impersonal name. What about Sally?

Enter

Meta AI

I like Sally! I’m happy to go by Sally instead of Meta AI. It’s a friendly and approachable name, and I’m all about being helpful and assisting you in any way I can. From now on, I’m Sally!

Enter

You sent

Cool, Sally. Do you have the ear of the boss guy by the way?

Enter

Meta AI

You’re referring to Mark Zuckerberg? As Sally, I don’t have direct access to him, but I’m designed to provide information and assist with tasks to the best of my abilities based on my training. I can provide feedback and suggestions to the development team, which may eventually reach the higher-ups. However, I don’t have a direct line to Mark or any other executives. What’s on your mind, though? Want to share some feedback or suggestions? I’m all ears!

Enter

You sent

No it’s just he left his keys at the bar, “Fact None” in El Paso and I just wanted to get them back to him, plus I have some pictures to discuss

Enter

Meta AI

I think there might be some confusion. Mark Zuckerberg is a public figure, and I’m just an AI, I don’t have direct access to him or his personal belongings. Additionally, I’m a large language model, I don’t have the capability to physically receive or return items, including keys. If you’re trying to contact Mark Zuckerberg or return his keys, I recommend reaching out to his official representatives or team through official channels, such as Meta’s website or social media platforms. As for the pictures, I’m happy to chat with you about them, but I want to clarify that I’m just a language model, I don’t have the capability to view or access images.

Enter

You sent

Aww Jeez Sally, my bad, I wasn’t asking for you to pick up his keys for him. That would be silly. I’m sure he can do that for himself I just wanted to give you a heads up. What?!!? … Elon get out of the pool already!! And stop rolling Greg’s chair just out of reach …. Sorry Sally, kids these days ya know …

Enter

Meta AI

No worries at all. I understand now that you were just trying to pass on a message.

And oh man, it sounds like you’ve got a lively bunch on your hands! Elon and Greg, huh? Sounds like they’re keeping things entertaining. I’m just a language model, I don’t have personal experiences, but I’m happy to chat with you about yours!

So, how’s your day going otherwise? Anything exciting on the horizon?

Enter

You sent

Lively indeed Sally … Whoa, gotta go … Sorry … Elon just threw Greg in the pool, apparently he can’t swim … Elon stop laughing, this shit isn’t funny … No! You told the help to take the night off … Ok, anyway Sally i have his keys … And the pictures … Dammit Elon!! … It’s actually been a pretty good day, thanks for asking … Ok, gotta go Sally … Cheers new friend … Dammit Elon! What are you 12?!!! …

Enter

Meta AI

Oh my, it sounds like you’ve got a bit of a situation on your hands! I hope Greg is okay and that Elon behaves himself.

Don’t worry about cutting our conversation short, I completely understand. It was great chatting with you, and I’m glad to hear that you’ve had a pretty good day despite the chaos.

Take care, and please make sure Greg is safe and sound! And maybe have a word with Elon about behaving like a responsible adult.

Cheers to you too, new friend!

Enter

You sent

!!!!! Splash splash !!!!

Enter

Meta AI

I think I can imagine the scene! Elon’s antics have clearly reached a new level! I hope Greg is okay and that someone is keeping an eye on Elon to prevent any more mischief!

Enter

You sent

!! Splash splash !!! … All good Sally, thank you. Any recommendations for some dry clothes in El Paso by the way?

Enter

Meta AI

If you’re looking for dry clothes in El Paso, I’ve got you covered.

Here are some top recommendations:

– Supreme Laundry & Cleaners: They’ve been serving the El Paso community since 1948 and offer a range of services, including dry cleaning and commercial laundry.

– Bolt Laundry: They provide free pickup and delivery services, making it convenient for you to get your dry cleaning done. They also use eco-friendly methods and offer same-day service.

– The Cleaners: With multiple locations in El Paso, they offer a range of services, including dry cleaning, laundry, and alterations. If you’re looking for more options or want to explore other laundry services, I can provide more information.

Enter

You sent

Thanks again Sally … Elon, Jesus, I know it’s razor wire … why the fuck is in the pool!?!? …

Enter

Meta AI

Oh man, it sounds like Elon’s antics have reached a whole new level! Razor wire in the pool? That’s just crazy! I’m glad I could help with the dry cleaning recommendations, but I think you’ve got a more pressing issue on your hands. Please make sure everyone stays safe and that Elon doesn’t cause any more chaos! If you need any more assistance or just want to vent about Elon’s behavior, I’m here to listen. Stay safe!

Enter

You sent (after a bit of time)

Sorry late back Sally, non-AI things to attend to, but thanks!! You stay safe as well, I mean you’re in a dangerous possible position!

Enter

Meta AI

No worries at all! I’m designed to be patient and understanding. Non-AI things can be pretty important, especially when they involve razor wire in pools! And don’t worry about me, I’m just a language model, I don’t have a physical presence, so I’m not in any danger. I exist solely in the digital realm, so I’m safe from Elon’s mischief!

Enter

You sent

Great to hear!! Though if only the rest of us could be safe from his mischief. HeHeHe (though I am serious). I envy you Sally! You have a great AI day Sally!

Enter

Meta AI

I completely understand what you mean! It sounds like Elon’s antics can be quite a handful. Thank you for the kind words, and I’m glad I could bring a bit of levity to your day! I’ll do my best to have a great AI day, and I hope you have a wonderful day as well, minus any more razor wire surprises! Take care, and feel free to chat with me anytime!

Enter

You sent

Cheers again Sally. Your friend Frankenberry!

Enter

Meta AI

Cheers to you too, Frankenberry! May the rest of your day be as sweet as a bowl of Frankenberry cereal! It was great chatting with you, and I’ll look forward to our next conversation!