Friday, March 16, 2012

Friday Free-For-All

Gabrielle asked Corrine if Fallon’s baby was born yet. 

“No,” replied Corrine, “She has to stay inside Fallon for a while longer so she can be healthy enough to come outside.”

Gabrielle said, “Why? We got her a hat.”


It’s not uncommon to hear me practicing the solo that I sing as my character in Damn Yankees. I play the Devil and during my song I have to laugh sinisterly.
In the car or walking around the house, I sing it over and over

I see Bonaparte a mean one
If ever I’ve seen one
And Nero fiddling through that lovely blaze
Antoinette, dainty queen, with her quaint, guillotine
Those were the good ole’ days…

From outside the bathroom the other morning I hear Bailey, the Red, whose speech difficulties make him fairly incoherent on the best of days, belting out:

 (A very long incoherent verbal jambalaya )

Griffin, clutching his hand and bending his wrist toward himself, informed his mother and me “When I do this, it hurts my knee.”

Yes, I tried. And he was right.

The governor was at the high school last night conducting a blathering, ignorant bluster of nonsense town meeting at which there were maybe a hundred folks in attendance. Clearly some of them were drunken, toothless backwater sheep partisans, given the sound of applause I heard. 

On his way from the music room to the forum I was standing in the hallway doing nothing, lost in my own reverie of self-importance waiting for rehearsal to start. I had a coffee brandy in one hand, my other hand deep in my pocket use your imagination when, for a split second, he looked like he was going to call me a liberal, pinko, commie bastard shake my hand. Instead, he waddled like the penguin that he is  kept walking.

Now I wanna punch the Marden's commercial lady really hard in the juice pouch.


Before this same incident, I passed a former acquaintance who still, after six years, acts as though I shit in his coffee. 

What I wanna know is: how in the hell did he find out?


My I AM SPARTACUS! Moment of the Week

I pulled up beside a woman stopped at a light in Auburn this week. I was singing Good Ole Days to myself, as I'm apt to do most every day (see above). I turned and noticed that she was looking at me, laughing.

As she accelerated ahead of me at the light change, I spotted  her child in the back seat pulling a used diaper from her diaper bag.
I sang, my head thrown back, eyes rolled back into my head.

You know. Sinisterly.

1 comment:

  1. sounds like a good week! Have a nice weekend.