(and the much clamored for sequel to Good Plants)

I have a couple of Spider Plants, Erica & Syd (what? I name things) that were gifted to me by my sister about 7 months ago. They have done quite well here at the ‘stead being very planty in their growing while listening to me babble at them or eavesdropping on conversations with cats. I think though that they might be part of my sister’s nefarious plan to have them overwhelm me where eventually I’ll be found dead in some lush, overgrown garden and she can then split my third of our inheritance with my brother.

Anyway, Erica has taken to sprouting babies, Sylvie and Ned, and Ned the long singular one? He almost looks to have some Faerie qualities so at least if my sister’s dastardly plan does come to fruition I know I will be well taken care of by the folk.

So I am sure that most of you have gotten or continue to get unwelcome texts phishing for personal info, usually with a link they’d hope you would click on that tells you that you have an unclaimed package at the UPS Store or that your checking or credit card account has detected a problem or that you have been flagged for national security concerns with your recent combination of purchases at Stop & Shop of cold cuts, lettuce, mayo, red onions, a specialty bread from the far end of the store and 50 bags of fertilizer that, if put together in just the right combination, could help you make a really nice sandwich, or possibly build a bomb (with a snack now for this build in a dark one workbench single lamplit smoky overstuffed ashtrays basement).

Usually just texting STOP can be enough to make this current text go away, well, until the next one. “we regret to inform you that your father’s estate …” “your Walmart account that you don’t have is due to expire …” “this is Discover card and, dude, you bought that? Oh, that is SOOO NOT your look. Just confirming your order … please contact us here”

But I have this recurring one, texts that will hit me every few months and always with very new personal attempts to engage in an “aren’t you?” kinda way and always with a few pics of the same pretty young woman in various situations to attest to …  

“Waiting for you at the restaurant, hope you get here soon, I ordered the wine.”

“Little Millie (holding dog) misses you, how about we go to the park?”  

“Jenny told me to get in touch with you.”

And this recurring one hit me with a new attempt today.

“Hi, are you the yoga teacher that Stephen referred me to?”  

Now, this one made me laugh, for obvious reasons. One, though it did get my name right, was of the wrong person unless there are two Stephens in this new story and Two, if so? Seems no one in this phishing-land machine is actually doing their homework, no, they’re just being lazy.

A teacher? C’mon, I ain’t no teacher of things.

The yoga though? That almost got me, as that is actually a daily practice of mine, right after waking up bleary eyed from another night of shitty sleep and gingerly placing a sleeping blind cat to my left and saying “good morning” to a not blind cat in a computer chair and to some spider plants in a window (It’s important to talk to them) so I can curse to my legs slowly dragged over the side of the bed with said bleary eyes faced in my hands to then get my day started with some yoga. Yeah, they got me pegged. Maybe they ARE doing their homework.

I responded with “Seriously? Stop now, lose this # … I have some yoga to practice”

This was followed with “Sorry for the intrusion.”

I responded then, trying to be kind, “All good” thinking maybe this might be done, again, for now.

But alas …

“I think it was God’s plan for us to meet”

My response was an exclamation akin to a mom and a trucker and a “if this were God’s plan, that would only confirm that he is certainly dead if the best I could do to meet someone was through a phishing text from an imaginary woman who gets to the restaurant first to confidently order wine for the both of us, has a little dog named Millie and a friend named Jenny who apparently knows me. Now please, just go away … again” and then I got this.

“I practice going to aerial yoga”

Whoa! Hot damn!! Stop the phishing presses!! Aerial yoga?!?! I don’t even know what the hell that is but it certainly changes the whole dynamic of this thing now doesn’t it, she being all limber and as adventurous as aerial yoga sounds? Interest suddenly piqued!

Now I do feel bad for the poor girl who’s images have been stolen for this one of many phishing expeditions we all come across. I’m sure, as I see the pictures attempting to lure me, that she’s very nice, she and her little dog too, that she lives in a nice part of town, maybe even upscale in a fancy loft apartment of those fantastical loft apartments in TV shows or movies that no one really lives in in the real world, and certainly not worthy of that character from whatever show or movie you are watching, has a very satisfactory or even exceptional life with a good job, where she jogs to the gym and eats well and has friends who play board games every first Friday of the month with a lot of good play “Hurrahs!” but all while not knowing that someone keeps sending me a her, that maybe she even experiences the same phishing thing on her end (though I truly hope it doesn’t come with pictures of me in return … no one wants that, seriously, no one wants that, plus that would just be really weird and come with a Twilight Zoney sounding music bed).

No.

Note to surely nice young woman who keeps being sent my way every couple of months? Apologies.

I am, though, still curious about this whole aerial yoga thing. You don’t by any chance know anything about that do you?

Just askin’.

(Extra Note: As I wrote this, I got another text, though from a new number “Hi, are you the yoga teacher who introduced Stephen to me?” Seems it’s still a story of two Stephens, though slightly turned. I kinda want to meet the other one now. Maybe he knows the girl in the pictures from that non-existent loft apartment. I mean, I’m sure she is really nice).

A good friend of mine recently posted to me at Facebook of the arrival of a new member of the family of Monster Cereals, Carmella Creeper. (thanks Patty, I didn’t get the cereal text alert for some reason … thought for sure I was on the list).

Fixing up her room here in the haunted house here as we speak.

For those that may not know my name is actually Frankenberry. It’s not a radio handle (my gig) I invented somehow, or a name for this Blog, as some have thought on occasion over the years, that I may have decided, maybe drunkenly they thought, that a pink strawberry flavored Frankenstein looking monster cereal character would be the perfect name to attach to a radio persona or to a Blog from an Attic.

No, Stephen J Frankenberry to be exact as my English mother would surely and adamantly have you note. And Stephen with a proper “PH” (no, not a water thing, though that apparently can be important) she would also add. Not some Americanized “V” as she always viewed it. Not that she thought less of anyone with that “V” mind you, though maybe silently thinking such of the parents, “It’s not their kids fault” she surely thought.

“I’m sure they are all very fine Stephens but with a “V”? … sigh”.

The cereal came out when I was 7, in 1971 (yes, I’m old) and inspired many the jokes then and ribbings on long school bus rides and also prank phone calls on the weekends that would drive my mother mad, in a “mad” monstery kind of way I guess huh?

“Hello, is Count Chocula there? (click)

“Hello, is Boo Berry there?” (click)

A few years later

“Hello, is Fruit Brute there? (click)

She, in her very English just off the plane only 8 years earlier, had no idea what prank phone calls were.

“Joseph Frankenberry!! You and this bloody name!!” followed with a “Hell’s Bells” and many other very English expletives that she would eventually get a bit more explicit with but with an English accent which just made them sound really cool.

Whatever and well, I have always been inextricably connected to a pink strawberry flavored Frankenstein monster cereal character and am quite fond of it, even have a tattoo on my forearm to proclaim Monster Family solidarity.

So, to find out that I have a cousin?

Well now, that was pretty exciting.

////////////////////////////////////////

Nice to make your acquaintance Carmella, and welcome to the family.

So, a couple of things. I tend to walk around the haunted house here in only tighty-whities, neck bolts and my big ass scarred head head accessories clutching a one eyed teddy bear, the Count can be a little arrogant and is something of a night bat with his late night TV viewing of horror and Hallmark flicks (he finds it very amusing that somehow the two aren’t really all that distinguishable from one another), Boo is a sweetheart though a little flighty, and Fruit Brute is a bit unpredictable and will most certainly leer at you. Just remind him that we are family and that this isn’t the South … oh, and that you will kick his ass (he’s all talk). Yummy Mummy visits from Egypt on the holidays and has his own room with a sarcophagus in the basement.

Oh, I’m also historically, according to the TV commercials, a bit of a scaredy cat, so if you can keep the “Creeper” part of “Carmella Creeper” to a minimum I would appreciate it. Your room is all the way up at the top of the stairs in the attic loft bedroom with a great crow’s eye view of the graveyard in the front lawn. It’s a pain in the ass to mow and weed whack around all the headstones but is still quite eye catching (though the HOA are NOT fans and don’t find the same aesthetic in it that we do).

But again, welcome to the Monster Cereal Fam Carmella!! Lookin’ forward to October!!

Brute, seriously? What did I tell you about her being family?! Really Carmella, feel to kick his ass!!!

Haven’t posted a So then Sunday in quite a while. For those that may be new here (my sincerest of apologies if so, you apparently have lost your way) a So Then Sunday is entirely my own creation, it’s not a “thing”, just an excuse for me to re-post stuff I like … on a Sunday. It’s like a Throwback Thursday just on a completely different day, a one that ain’t a Thursday and one that usually happens 3 days later just minus all those one hitters from the 80’s and 90’s.

This is one of my faves of the parody tune thing I try to do, not a parody here of an existing song though, just some words instead to an instrumental from the production music bed site at work, and a one with a lot of words, and done fastly. I like that. Lots of words done fastly (yes, “fastly” is also not a “thing”).

//////////////////////////////////////////

September 11, 2022

Alright, a new experiment, and a bit of current anger’s fun. Came across a bed at our production site recently that had a really cool sound and beginning and some nice changes within and I thought well, how abouts working some lyrics to it as I have done a couple of times with my “She Said (Old T-Shirt)” song and “We Let Billy Drive the Car”.

No actual song for parody, just a production bed. Though this isn’t lyrics of a me thing or a fun story to be told, this keeps in the vein of the current nightmare, but still a trying to keep within the tune. I guess these production site music beds can sometimes serve as my “band” huh?

So here’s this.

Are we viewing a surreal horror

Or just watching angry parody  

Only funny in horrific ways

Tickets bought a play called tyranny

Our seats quick sand of ignorance  

Till lifelines thrown early history   

But still grasp false reality

—

Theatre  

—

---

Now don’t bother me now, Mom I’m only dancing

In the aisles I’m prancin’

But not in gay way I’m singin’

Bout what end days are bringin’

Performance art playing out at schoolboards

Angry small minds at chalkboards

Who chalk up hate in loud chords

—

We sing of Devil’s discord

Threatens normal we should afford  

Only to those who live accord

Cause if you can’t you’re not on board

That train rolling over those told to

To straighten up and fly right

And only to the right, right

No other way to fly right?

Right?   

—

It’s time now to get on page

To help us harken back to better days

Where men were men and women knew their place

And where the lessers really had no face

And history didn’t happen as they say

No it was wondrous patriotic way

And the whitey’s always saved the day

With better of country their only play

—

“Hey now, that sounds like Jazz …  we don’t do jazz here … there’ll be no jazz … though, we could appropriate it … whattya think Cletus, we could appropriate it right? It’s an idea … and hey, whoa, hold on, that sounds almost a little funky … we don’t do funk here … there’ll be no funk here …  though we could appropriate this too and probably even dance to it with wide lapels and wider pant legs in an embarrassing way and pay lip service to the lesser players … and don’t even go there on blues if that’s next by the way … though we could appropriate that too  … but you know what? we got country, good ol’ American country is ours … top Lee Greenwood and Charlie Pride and Toby Keith if you can… hey, why you laughin’?”

—

We know now, we know the only right right

We’ll push till you surrender fight  

Tyranny now in plain sight

Though we’re too dumb to see plight

Instead looking at it as insight

To future where we new white

Will own again some of you then

Own all your rights superior

Restrict your vote and then some 

Or change votes depending on outcome

Sham democracy gets its run

Till realize too your rights are gone

Tyrants don’t care of your song

Tyranny theatre ticket bought

Backstage phone it sounds now

ring ring

Hello, it’s me great leader

Right? 

With Ron DeSantis continuing to attack education in his Florida petri dish test case of a new All American Fascist State, a Florida as America platform, a one of ignorance, free thought be damned (the actual indoctrination) and with yet more states threatening teachers that don’t educate in conservative straight white safe ways and even possibly criminalizing the truth?

This one keeps popping up in my head.

From 2 years ago and I have re-posted it here before.

To the Dixie Cups “Going to the Chapel”

Goin’ to the school board

And we’re gonna get carried away

With banning books now that aren’t

In a real right straight white safe way

Gee we’ve got some issues with works

That don’t teach imagined virtues of a

Re-visioned whitewashing day

— 

GOP’s here

To set message clear

Ignorance sings

Of white patriot things

— 

This country was found

On exceptional ground

And we’ll never teach real truth anymore

—

Because we’re

Goin’ to the school board

And we’re gonna get carried away

Might throw books on a pyre now

And dance ‘round with a hey hidey hey how

— 

Gee you don’t need a degree

From any liberal leftist factory   

Goin’ to create history  

—

Whistles will blow

And dogs will crow

We’ll set it right

No CRT will be in sight

We’ll ignore slave-ery

Even though it’s part of the core  

And strike systemic from vocabulary’s lore

— 

Because we’re

Goin’ to the school board

And we’re gonna get carried away

Snowflake about the sensibilities

Of our children’s tender feelings

Gee we don’t know the problem

Of new curriculum’s whitey outcome

—

Goin’ to the school board of dumb

(yeah-a-yeah-a-yeahy-yeah)

—

Goin’ to the school board of dumb  

(yeah-yeah-yeah-yeahy-yeah)

—
Just mind your place and we’ll all get along

On my way into work early last week, driving my usual route, a few backroads through some pretty suburbia (one of the reasons I take this way and not the main way) I noticed this one house, like really noticed it for the first time though I pass it every day. It has a striking red front door, how it hadn’t really caught my eye before I couldn’t tell you but, no matter, it did on this morning.

I think it did because recently I went to visit Mom in her assisted living facility for Mother’s Day and something about this red door seemed vaguely familiar, like maybe when I was kid we lived in a house behind a red door or maybe it was a red house?

So, this then is for Mom, who lives behind her red door in a different sort of house now, two of them.

I try bring some news.

Love ya Ma

–

Behind The Red Door

It fronts a house

Once center

Village open welcome

But

Floating hazy now outskirts

As doors don’t float but do

Lost in trees tall tangle roots shoots forest grasping edge of the old gathering square

Where voices were there

Their songs sung in unison

Once

They did declare!

High up into the air!

—

It’s a house with a red door

Please knock to tell something

Sell something

Even

Needed in

Village’s

Villager’s stories

All shared

But

Through bay whispy window tissue thin doilied curtains now floating like ghosts gently pushed aside

(mind you move away ghosts!)

To glance out

Please knock to sell me something

Tell me something

Are you the paperboy?

Do you have the news?

Have you heard of Linda?

I worry

—

It was a house with a red door

Open

Of many room’s 

Thoughts

Lived

Loved

Grand  castle with Nobles and Ladies

Knees bent

For wisdom’s grace

I have words

Had words

Want words

Can you hear them through whispy bay floating window tissue curtains now?

Through whispier lips?  

Behind the red door

Kind ghosts

But ghosts still

Oh, go away ghosts, shoo!!

—

Are you the paperboy?

Have you some news?

—

It’s a house with a red door

Flashing in

Out planes

Existence moving on wheels

Now

Through tangled grasping forest root shoots long hallways

Of village

New sort

To sort through and around in time lost

Trapped

Behind the red door

And …

So many different other colored doors

So many different castles

So many doors

—

It’s a house with a red door

Closed

No, ajar instead

Instead

Maybe can you see

Me

In

Through

Whispy bay floating window tissue curtains like ghosts?

Oh, go away ghosts, shoo!!

Please!!

—

Are you the paperboy?

Do you have some news?

Maybe of Linda?

I worry

When Mother Nature finally gets her season shit in order and lets you know that, yes, you can now safely put away the Fall & Winter sweats to swap out with some Spring & Summer shorts, you will find yourself swapping said items in and out of a drawer.

While doing so, you, possibly being of the crazy cat lady guy ilk, will think “Ya know, I should leave this drawer open”

Million $$$ idea number 42 thousand and 14 (yes, Jonna and Keryl … Million $$$ ideas). Ok, more like maybe Million $$$ idea number 6 (you don’t want to know the first 5, #2 was a new version of pants, #4 was an addendum to #2 and wasn’t pretty, and I almost broke my ankle, don’t know what I was thinkin’. #3 #5 and #1?? Don’t ask, especially about #3, I swear I didn’t know that could catch on fire and so quickly).

As you can tell I don’t really have a lot of Million $$$ ideas, they make my brain and ankles hurt, sometimes even require 911 calls but how about a new safe animal trap, possibly for say, cats?

A dresser with an open drawer full of clothes set up at the edge of the woods, or next to a busy roadway, under that overpass, or wherever you find some cats, or any other animal that you are hoping to catch/save to be?

… Ok, that lugging around of a dresser to place in catch spots is probably not the best of ideas, it would be really awkward and impractical and would most probably hurt my back (I told you I don’t have a lot of Million $$$ ideas) but it can still be effective.

I caught this one in less than half an hour.

(more crazy cat lady guy cat tips)

Last week I posted here in the Attic of driving home, windows down, on a beautiful Spring evening singing along embarrassingly loud to Sweet’s “Little Willy” from the early 70’s and my early teen years finding some 70’s glam rock and a Best of Sweet CD to be just the ticket for this ride until some knucklehead in his souped up (or down depending on perspective) Motocross dirt bike sounding BMW (such a crime) ruined said ride.

A Sweet Spring Ride Home … Almost

But I thought this tune might make for new parody material.

My friend Rick called it “Kicky!” after I had sent him a draft.

I could go with “Kicky!”

Little Autocrat Despot

(to Sweet “Little Willy”)

Don fakes, Ron wakes

Little busy autocrats … vie be new king around town

They have only one goal

Little autocrats … shimmy shuffle to crush a country’s soul

—– 

Each to a one thinks they’ll show the light

Cause with themselves in charge they can force to the right

All now, only way now

New day nowwwww

—– 

But little autocrat despot

Go home

Cause America don’t need you now

No Orban clones

Keep tellin’ everybody of your … ill intent

Little autocrat despot

Go home

—–

Down’s up, up’s down

Little autocrats spin lies

Check ‘em if you can in real time tries

One in a town hall keeps lies his one true call

Shimmy shuffle them to brand new heights

—–

The other does chase white truth for the base

While saying none of this is at all about race

Just whitewashed, facts now

just mind place and kowtow now

—–

But little autocrat despot

Go home

Cause America don’t need you now

No Putin clones

Keep tellin’ everybody of your … ill intent

Little autocrat despot

Go home

—–

Little autocrat despot

Little autocrat despot

Little autocrat tinpot

Little autocrat despot

Shoot the lot that don’t agree

That don’t agree with family tree

Little autocrat despot

Little autocrat tinpot

—–

Little autocrat despot

Go home

Cause America don’t need you now

No China Xi clones

Keep tellin’ everybody of your … ill intent

Little autocrat despot

Go home

—–

Little autocrat despot

Go home

Cause we like our freedom now

Of which you’d own

Keep tellin’ everybody of your … ill intent

Little autocrat despot

Go home

—–

Little autocrat despot

Go home

(fade)