Ya know, being happily single, unencumbered by singleness allows me time to explore further the reasons I am said happily single. There’s no pillow talk, no equal toes and ankles under sheets, no sidestepping feet in a morning’s perfectly choreographed dance in the kitchen, no phone calls during the day just to check in and feel not alone, no shoulders for heads on bad days, no shared shows on the tube, even if you only watch bits of them while wishing to eat your own foot or at least as much popcorn or any other snack as possible just so you can keep taking breaks to get more … “No, you keep watching … don’t pause for me … I’ll catch up”
“Can’t you just fill a big bowl?”
Ok, SOME drawbacks (other than that show that you really don’t like), but the happily single, while minus some together benefits, does allow me time to just sit (big fan) and thought and wonder and wear out the A’s and S’s and D’s on my keyboard (apparently – and another thing to figgur entirely) and sometimes re-visit old pieces of my brilliance
“Brilliance? Really?”
“What?! I can’t imagine things? I mean, this is MY blog right? My own fancies?”
Anyway, in my single, “I gots the time”, I went back to some of my “brilliant” things this weekend for a re-read or a re-listen and reminded myself how much I like this post (among others – though this is the one I’m gonna stick you with right now).
It’s nothing special really, I have others that are better but this one just makes me smile.
An audio post about engineers, my Bella, crunchy paper and possible spaceships.
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April 1, 2023
Thought I would take to doing a read of this one from early March and have a little fun with it while I was at it.
Downstairs at the station earlier this week was a recent package for Tom, one of our radio engineer guys, possibly the tallest radio engineer guy on the East Coast which means absolutely nothing here, he’s just pretty tall, thought I’d mention it.
It was a big box, with lots of smaller boxes of surely important and expensive radio equipment stuff, smaller boxes of radio thingy’s and whatchamacallits that Tom would recognize in an engineer way that would eventually be replacements for old thingy’s and whatchamacallits or be completely new additions, or maybe even be part of the controls on the bridge of a spaceship Tom was building on the station’s dime on the down low to get him the hell out of here, but conduits to buttons that I would probably at some point push (or not push – depending on the yellow post-its with pointed arrows that say “Frankenberry, Don’t Push This”).
Noted I thought, but I just used the word “eventually” earlier as to installation of all this so I was good for the moment to not concern myself with personal yellow post-it notes just yet, but notice instead the more important aspect of what was also in this big box, with the lots of smaller boxes of surely important radio equipment stuff, the smaller boxes of thingy’s, and whatchamacallits that Tom would recognize and come with soon post-it warnings for me (though I might try to stow away on his spaceship to get the hell out of here as well – hopefully he brings post-its, I mean, it’s a spaceship … waaaay more important to note buttons I shouldn’t push out there … in space … ya know, where spaceships go … wouldn’t want to accidentally send us hurtling into a sun or something because that particular “send you hurtling into a sun” button didn’t have a simple post-it note telling me NOT to push it).
But also in the big box? Brown packing paper, lots of brown packing paper, or more famously, for me and my Bella, “crunchy paper”.
I was excited! Crazy cat lady guy excited! Been a while since I had refreshed the crunchy paper, the old paper rolled around on and slept on scratched on and cat puked on and cat toy played on so much by my little Bella that it was now nothing more than cloth soft paper tatters.
I asked Tom if he thought he might need any of this “crunchy paper” for possible returns and if not … could I have it … for my cat.
He looked quizzically, annoyedly and in his usual “why are you bothering me Frankenberry?” kinda way, the way he often does when looking at me (he most probably being the one most understandably responsible for those yellow post-it notes in the first place) and said “Sure?” hoping I would just leave his office as quickly as possible.
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I thanked Tom earlier today for my Bella, told him Bella said I must, and even showed him pictures, like any crazy cat lady guy worth their catnip would, that he feigned interest in like a real trooper instead of just looking at me again quizzically, again annoyedly and again in his usual “why are you bothering me Frankenberry?” kinda way and said “You’re welcome?” hoping, once more, that I would just leave his office as quickly as possible (got a spaceship to work on here Frankenberry!! And don’t you dare try to stowaway, don’t know if post-its stick so well in space!).
Here we go Girlfriend. New crunchy paper Bella. And maybe even a space adventure or two.
Tom says “You’re welcome” by the way.
“Crunch Crunch Crunch”
… and lift off.
frankenberrysattic.com 