The Banal Chew

Flashback Friday

It's been a while, but Flashback Friday has returned.

For the occasion, I've created a meme.  (I don't chain them, but feel free to copy to your own blog, if you'd like.  Be sure to leave me a comment to let me know you did, so I can go check out your answers!)

If it's possible for you to remember the following events, in 15 words or fewer, describe your experience with them.

1. The assassination of Robert Kennedy.
   Playing on the floor at Grandma's. She was crying while she ironed.
2. The stroke of midnight on the first day of Year 2000.
   Watched on TV all the people who had traveled so far to celebrate. Wondered why.
3. You first saw/heard your mother cry.
   My heart sank. I thought the world was ending.
4. A teacher falsely accused you of something.
   4th grade. Mrs. Dimmit said I swore, but I didn't...dammit! 500-words, please.
5. The Challenger space shuttle tragedy.
   My voice lesson interrupted by phone call from teacher's wife. He went pale. Lesson canceled.
6. You bought your first piece of designer anything.
   A lavender, Polo Ralph Lauren oxford cloth button-down shirt. Mmmhmm.
7. The first time you heard a) Little Red Corvette, b) Billie Jean, or c) Material Girl.
   LRC -- at Zippers, a gay nightclub in Tulsa, Oklahoma.
8. You first fell in love.
   Arrived home; found person I was dating wearing only an apron, cooking my birthday dinner.
9. You walked out of a movie.
   300 -- okay, I shut down the DVD player, but I would have walked out anyway.
10. The Chernobyl disaster.
    Too self-absorbed during college, but rekindled memories of high-school protests following Three Mile Island accident.
11. A beloved idol disappointed you.
    Heard Fleetwood Mac live, and regretted it. One word for you, Stevie: intonation!
12. You first questioned the truth behind whatever religion you were brought up with.
    Looking at the propagandistic illustrations of black stains on one's soul in my catechism text.
13. The first time anyone asked you to dance.
    At Zippers, while Little Red Corvette was playing. I said yes.
14. You suffered your first broken bone.
    Around five years ago; caught little toe on Roger's dog crate while rushing to rehearsal.
15. The first time you heard the word "blog".
    From Homer, some years ago while hanging out with him during my Tucson days.

--------------------------------

Oops.  I forgot yesterday.  Here are the answers to Tuesday's puzzles:

The lines are parallel.  Something about white boxes next to black ones creating an optical illusion...eh, I don't know.

Dane stain
snail trail
heart smart
party hardy
Gromit vomit
Lean queen-zine

Flashback Friday

Despite how much I like Australia, there are still many things I miss about the US. 

Like MADtv.

Thank God for YouTube.

Questions and Answers

Boxing Day is a major public holiday in Australia, among other places.  We don't have this holiday in the U.S.  It is based on a centuries-old tradition of employers giving Christmas boxes to their employees...or receiving said gifts, depending on your fortune. 

To my knowledge, this tradition isn't honored anymore in Australia, but they certainly make use of the holiday.  Everything, aside from a handful of major department stores across the country, basic necessities and a few over-crowded restaurants, shuts down for the day.  So, coupled with Christmas Day, we have two days of nearly complete shut-down.  If, for example, you find yourself having forgotten to buy a carton of whipping cream, you'd better pray to Saint Someone that you'll be able to find an open supermarket.

The weather is pretty awesome today, thus far anyway.  After taking Roger for a nice morning walk, I went to late breakfast with Deano, Blair, Aron and James at one of the aforementioned, painfully scarce open local cafes.  They all bundled into a car and headed for the beach while I came back home to do a little work.  (Remember, there's no Boxing Day holiday in the U.S., and since my p/t job as a medical lexicographer is for a U.S.-based company, that means no free day for me...nor any employer presents.)

Sydney has had a comparatively cool and rainy summer so far.  Fortunately, the rain is also falling in the catchment areas...good news for the overall drought conditions.  Does everyone know that Australia is firmly in the grip of the worst countrywide drought in nearly a century, and well over a century in some individual regions?  No global warming, eh?

Anyway, all the recent rain has made Sydney the greenest many have seen in it in many years.  I took a few photos of our immediate neighborhood as I walked to and from the restaurant.  I love our area and will miss it dearly when I do have to move.

As I made the trek home, I walked past a car bearing an advertising logo that seemed to have special meaning today.  I think we should always celebrate what we have now. 

Yes, there's a lot of grief and drama in the world, both at home and away, but I always want to realize a lion's share of the enjoyment I experience in my own life is based on my friendships.  I am lucky in many ways.  I don't need gifts from my employer to recognize the benefit of holidays.  Although I wouldn't kick a healthy year-end bonus out of bed.

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As Brian says in his blog header:
Happy whatever the hell you celebrate!

Don't ask about my Christmas.

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Answers to Friday's Flashback Quiz:

1. B
2. E
3. H
4. I
5. J
6. A
7. C
8. G
9. F
10. D

Flashback Friday

Boys and girls, we haven't had a pop quiz for a while. 
Get out your pencils and tie on your thinking caps!

Match the quotations with the correct U.S. President or Vice-President. 
(No fair Googling!  Answers on Tuesday.)

 

1. It is wonderful to be back here in the great state of Chicago.
2. I favor the Civil Rights Act of 1964, and it must be enforced at gunpoint, if necessary.
3. I hope I stand for anti-bigotry, anti-Semitism, anti-racism.
4. I want real loyalty. I want someone who will kiss my ass in Macy's window and say it smells like roses.
5. There will be no whitewash in the White House.
6. Always be sincere, even if you don't mean it.
7. It's clearly a budget; it's got a lot of numbers in it.
8. A zebra does not change its spots.
9. If Lincoln was alive today, he'd roll over in his grave.
10. You know, if I were a single man, I might ask that mummy out. That's a good-looking mummy.

A. Harry S. Truman
B. Dan Quayle
C. George W. Bush
D. Bill Clinton
E. Ronald Reagan
F. Gerald R. Ford
G. Al Gore
H. George H. W. Bush
I. Lyndon B. Johnson
J. Richard Nixon

Flashback Friday

Sometimes I think I'm naive.  Or stupid.  Or slow.  Something.

Part I

"God, you're such a fairy!"

This came from the red-headed kid with giant freckles who sat in front of me in my 7th-grade class.  It was one of those cinematic slow-motion moments.  His squeaky voice dropped two octaves as he spoke those words, the freckles on his face...freckles as big as your hand...scrunching and wrinkling as his mouth contorted to accommodate his insult. 

It didn't have to be that way.  We had been joking around before the bell rang, tossing paperwads at each other like so many other gangly teenagers.  We were horsing around and having fun, as we always had.  Then he threw one at my face, hitting me squarely in the eye.  I must have complained in a way he found objectionable, and out came the phrase. 

Then it got worse.  Holding a hand over my bruised eye, now pouring forth tears (although I wasn't crying, honest to God), I angrily asked him what the heck he was talking about.  What does complaining about someone nearly putting your eye out have to do with mythical winged creatures of the forest? 

He belly-laughed and yelled, "A fairy, stupid.  You know, a girly boy." 

My heart stopped.  Although I couldn't think of things in any logical sense at the moment, it was the first time in my life that I had borne the direct brunt of hate speech. 

The bell rang, and we all took our seats.  I sat stunned and quiet during the entire class.  From that day until the end of the year, I never looked at the back of his unkempt head the same as I had before.  And try as hard as I may, I just could not seem to will my eyes to become burning lasers that would drill right through his hateful skull.  I never spoke to him again.

Part II

As I approached my car in the Silver Spring grocery store parking lot, I noticed a man weaving his way on foot in my general direction.  He was carrying a brown paper bag.  I had just seen him exit the back of the adult bookstore adjacent to the oriental grocer I had just visited, and I began to speculate as to what type of videos he had rented.  From his mean, disheveled look and inebriated stagger, I imagined it probably wasn't an instructional video on tantric massage or a how-to program on bringing your wife to multiple orgasms. 

Based on the vibe I was receiving, I decided to alter my course through the parking lot ever so slightly to avoid the risk of ending up in this man's swerving path.  As we drew nearer to our respective vehicles, I realized he was headed toward the giant 1970s-model Buick parked next to my shiny, 2-month-old, samba green Honda del Sol.  It was my 30th birthday present to myself, and it was my pride and joy.

As we got closer to our cars, the man's eye caught mine and I noticed him scowl hatefully.  He reached his car first, unlocked the massive door and pulled it with drunken force into the side of my new Honda.  I stood shocked for a second, wondering if I should let it go or risk saying something. 

Little Angel Sandy on one shoulder whispered, "Just go home and make your sushi. It's not worth getting worked up over." 

Little Devil Sandy on the other side screamed, "Kill the bastard!"

The good Libra that I am, I compromised and walked over to the passenger side of my car to check out any damage.  Sure enough, there was a big ding and the paint had been severely scraped.  Looking at the damage, I felt my pulse quicken and blood rush to my head.  I looked over at the man in the Buick and knocked on his window.  He cranked it down and gave me a questioning glare.

"Excuse me, but do you realize what you just did to my car?  LOOK!"  I pointed at the desecration.

His foul breath slapped me in the face as he spat, "Yeah?  Well get some fuckin' side-body molding, buddy!"  He angrily rolled up his window and reached to put his car in gear.

I stood for a brief moment, bewildered, and quickly rapped on his window again.

"Sorry?"  I asked.  "What is side-body molding?"

He gave me an incredulous look, his face slackening for a second.  Then the nastiness returned and he screamed as he sped off, "Look it up in a fuckin' dictionary!"

When I got home, I did just that.

And the winner is...

well, no one really, although TJ got the most correct and gets extra credit for even getting the spelling of the Stephen King book (nearly) right.

Only three people dared answer Friday's Flashback Quiz.  Sheesh, the last time I created a quiz, y'all complained it was too easy!  I guess I need to strike a balance.

Here are the answers:

1) Dennis DeYoung (of Styx)

2) The cover of Stephen King's book, Pet Sematary

3) Mrs. Voorhees, Jason's mother in Friday the 13th

4) Detective Chin Ho Kelly, from Hawaii Five-O

5) Ice Castles

6) "has a frog in her throat"

7) Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters

8) Lee Smith (from Fair and Tender Ladies)

9) Sambos

10) Needlepoint

Flashback Friday (a day late)

I'm in the mood for a quiz.  How about you?  (No Googling!)

1) Who is this man? 
Hint: He was my idol when I was a teenager, mainly because I admired his lyric tenor voice. A tenor myself, I sang just about every hit song of his in my high school pop group.

2) This illustration appeared where? 
Hints: Down East, ill-fated older neighbor, shovel

3) What was this movie character's name?
Hints: rhymes with "More, please!"; world's worst mommie, next to Joan Crawford

4) Name this TV character and the show.
Hint: Aloha!

5) Which late-70s movie had a theme song featuring these lyrics?
Hint: Nancy Kerrigan, eat your heart out.

I can see what's mine now,
Finding out what's true,
Since I found you...

6) What's the punch line to this dirty Muppets joke?

Kermit and Ms Piggy were frolicking in bed one day.
The phone rang, and Kermit answered.
He said to the person on the line,
"I'm sorry, but Ms Piggy can't talk on the phone right now.
She ___________________."

7) In which J. D. Salinger story does the protagonist serve his guests a pitcher of Tom Collins, although he himself prefers to drink Scotch?

8) Which author of Southern fiction coined my favorite phrase that offers an excuse for having a drink in the afternoon: "Early? Why it's already dark under the house."

9) Which national U.S. restaurant chain, before it went bankrupt, infamously featured murals like this on its interior walls?
Hint: The restaurant name was initially a portmanteau word, but later achieved a controversial association with a story with racist subtones.

10) Which domestic activity did the American footballer, Rosey Grier, notoriously promote during the mid-70s, bursting stereotypes all over the country?

a) baking
b) needlepoint
c) macrame
d) housecleaning

Flashback Friday

On this day in 1789, the US government incurred its first debt, borrowing from the NYC Banks.  I'm no historian, but my guess is that the loan was taken because of the financial impact of the War of Independence. 

On this day in 2007, the US government owes approximately 9 trillion dollars of public debt.  That includes money owed to foreign entities, but it doesn't include Social Security.  Tack that on, and you get nearly $60 trillion.

Scary.

Flashback Friday

Seven things I used to eat and drink as a kid: 

1. Creamy peanut butter and raw oats, on crackers;
2. Butter and Karo syrup, on toast;
3. Strawberry Nesquik, exclusively;
4. Uncooked pasta, preferably macaroni;
5. Jungle Juice, the fruit drink from a carton;
6. Woolworth's french fries, when out with friends;
7. Milk-bone dog biscuits, secretly in the laundry room.

 

What was your favorite snack?

Flashback Friday

We were rushing around backstage like demented ferrets.  Our entrance from stage left was due in only minutes, and we were gasping from adrenaline and the difficult quick-change we'd just had.  Pam, a year my senior and one grade ahead of me, giggled nervously as she grabbed my hand to rush us both through the cramped wings of our tiny high-school stage.

"Come on, Waynold," she hissed dramatically, "we're gonna blow our f#cking entrance!"

I took her hand and time stopped.  Her skin was soft and warm, comforting like a favorite pillow.  It occurred to me that no one had ever taken my hand like that.  The only other skin I knew was my own.  I looked at her, this treasured, adored friend of mine, and smiled as deep as my core.  I would brave the deadly jaws of Cerberus for her, the girl who changed my life. 

Call it infatuation; call it a crush.  I call it love.  Not the moist, pulsatile love of teenage experience, but something more.  An apotheosis, maybe.  In reality, I worshiped her like a troubadour.  This beautiful young woman was the subject of my clumsy, secret sestine.  My ardor soared high above the trappings of sexuality, adolescence and puerile expectations.  I expected nothing in return; I had already received more than I could have predicted. 

At that moment, my life was changing.  For the first time, I could see the zipper of my old skin.  How tempting it was to step out of that person: the awkward, agonizingly shy, socially inept and sleeping boy.  Pam, along with the other members her entourage, had given me the tools I needed to claim my independence from the only shelter I had ever been given the chance to know.  And I loved her for it.

Charging ahead through the darkness, she tripped noisily over a brace that jutted recklessly into the wingspace, jarring the attached flat and causing a temporary pause in the dialog on stage.  As inertia brought me slamming into her back, we both laughed huskily.

"Jesus Christ, what idiot put that f#cking brace there?" 

"I did, Pam."

"Oh Waynold, I'm sorry."  She looked at me.  There it was, that warmth again.  "I love you," she said between giggles and walked through the stage-left door to dazzle the audience.  It was their turn now.

"I love you, too, Pam," I whispered and entered the blinding heat of the stage.