François Rabelais

It's amazing the things you run across while researching a novel. . .well, to be fair, I run across. . .such as:


François Rabelais

"Readers, friends, if you turn these pages
 Put your prejudice aside,
 For, really, there's nothing here that's outrageous,
 Nothing sick, or bad — or contagious.
 Not that I sit here glowing with pride
 For my book: all you'll find is laughter:
 That's all the glory my heart is after,
 Seeing how sorrow eats you, defeats you.
 I'd rather write about laughing than crying,
 For laughter makes men human, and courageous.

BE HAPPY!"

. . . François Rabelais

and from our good friends at Urban Dictionary :


"These two did oftentimes do the two-backed beast together, joyfully rubbing and frotting their bacon 'gainst one another, in so far, that at last she became great with child of a fair son, and went with him unto the eleventh month; for so long, yea longer, may a woman carry her great belly, especially when it is some masterpiece of nature, and a person predestinated to the performance, in his due time, of great exploits."

François Rabelais (c. 1494 - 1553)

"Gargantua and Pantagruel"

. . .and so begins the day. . .

Permanent Declarations of a Temporary Love

Amber brought me a cup of coffee to the table at the Arabica coffee shop.  She blew on the steam rising from her cup as she sat down across from me.  She stared at me.

“How are your classes going?” I asked.  I huddled my hands around my cup.

“Sweet Baby Jesus!” Amber stared at me.

“Look, I know you’re planning on continuing on to Seminary, but could you be more specific?”  Amber continued to stare at me.  She started tapping her well-manicured fingernails on the table.

“She gave you a toe-job, didn’t she?”  Now it was my turn to stare.  The water in the hot tub had been roiling.  There was absolutely no way she could have seen what was going on.

“Excuse me?”  With Amber, there was no such thing as buying time.

“A toe-job.  T-O-E dash J-O-B.  Toe-job.”  I looked around us to see if Amber’s voice had garnered us an audience.  Sister Lindy from Mount Carmel looked at me.  Through me.  I leaned over to her.

“I keep telling her, Sister, it’s pronounced Jobe, as in lobe, but she gets confused.”  Sister Lindy returned to her reading.  I looked over at Amber.  Now the middle nail on her right hand was tapping the rim of her cup.

“I’m gonna stick confused right up your ass until your prostate hollers uncle, you asshole.”  She continued the tapping, looked down at her cup and back up at me.  “Did you return the favor?”  If I said yes it would be a lie.  If I said no, it would mean the act in question had actually occurred.  Instead, searching for clever answers, I chose a poor one.

“If Sara had done that twenty-two years ago we wouldn’t be sharing this moment today.”

“That’s the best you can come up with?”  Okay.  She had me.  Memories of toes on flesh--even my favorite flesh--wilted under her stare.

“Did I do wrong?”  Was there no end to my stupidness?

“Define wrong.”  Her tapping on the cup rim intensified.  She was really the greatest daughter in the world.  Really.

“Well, wrong should really be my middle name--and I wouldn’t want to use my middle name as proof-text for my actions.  Is it possible I could just blame it on too much Southern Comfort?”  Stall, stall, stall.

“As opposed to lack of conscience, morals, scruples, and an assault on innocence?”  Okay.  So.  I know, I’d go on the offensive.

“I don’t think a toe-job would be construed as an act of innocence.”  There.  She sat there silently.  Clearly my plan was working.  I looked over as Sister Lindy’s chair slid back.  She got up, came over to our table, and put an index card in front of me.  She made a tsking sound and walked out the door.  Amber grabbed the card.

“Romans 12:2.  Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.”

“So she thinks my mind needs renewing?”  It didn’t hurt to ask.

“You’ve deeply offended the penguin.”

“That’s the last time I play bingo over there.”  I took a sip of my coffee.  I was deeply offended myself.  Deeply.

“Well, well, well, Father, you are quite the man.”

“So some would say.”

“But not many.”  Cut to the quick.

“Harsh you are.”

“So was it good?  The toe-job?”  She looked at me.

“Define good.”

. . .from the novel in progress.  . .Permanent Declarations of a Temporary Love

Permanent Declarations of a Temporary Love

Astrid poured me a cup of coffee.  It was noon.  I floundered my way through the tunnel to see if anybody might be alive.  I knocked on the door, since I was not provided with equal opportunity numbers to get back into the women’s dorm, and was met by a Brazilian glare.  She didn’t say a word to me, just nodded for me to follow her up the stairs.  This wasn’t difficult because of Astrid’s penchant for wearing a thong and precious little else.  The movement was hurting my eyes as I was following her up the stairs.  We were half way up and she stopped and I collided into her left cheek.  She turned around and snorted.

“What you think there’s going to be a quiz on them?”  My attempt at a witty repartee was hampered by the result of her turning around and now my nose and mouth being just north of all things precious, good, moist, and welcome to all males save the members of Frankie Goes to Hollywood and the Will and Grace fan club.  She reached down and lifted up on my chin. 

“I’m sorry?” was all I could manage.

“Yes, you are.”  Astrid continued her ascent up the stairs and I contemplated life with my new diverse friends.  “Coffee?” I heard her faintly.  Only if it’s fair-exchange I heard the good, moral part of me say.  It was a faint voice to be sure.

“Please.”  I made it up to the top of the steps, wishing my daughter had sprung for an elevator and a need for less companionship.  Astrid settled two large porcelain cups on the table and poured.  Apparently we were to have a conversation.  I looked around for a to-go cup and saw nary a one so I settled into my seat and Astrid sat across from me.  She adjusted her thong from the looks of arm and hand movement and cleared her throat.

I did likewise.  Cleared my throat that is.  I popped my eyes open and shut to keep the memories of her thong tucked away.

We both took sips of coffee.  Didn’t she have laundry to do?

“I used to be a hippie chick,” Astrid said.  She stirred sugar into her coffee and continued.  “I lived on a commune.  A nature commune.  A nudist commune.”  Why was I continually being tested and teased.  I closed my eyes.  Of course, that’s when the projector went off in my head.  There was Astrid in a tie-died shirt.  There was Astrid sans shirt.  There was Astrid serving tea to her friends buck naked with flowers in her hair.  I shook my head and looked up at her.

“And then what happened?”  The projector was stuck.  I tapped the side of my head.

“It was all crap, man.”  This chick was like the damn princess with the pea.  She could take a bath in yogurt and get a piece of glass stuck up her ass.  Why did I always think so visually?

“Well, we all have our ideals and then we tend to lose some of that when we mature a bit.”

“I know you’re not calling me immature.”  No, good god no.  I liked life far too much to be that foolish.

“That wouldn’t be prudent of me.”  Or of anyone who valued their penis.

“A wiser statement was never spoken.”  I didn’t need circle conversations.  Not with that Southern Comfort still banging up against important brain cells, laughing at my every attempt to make sense of speech and darkness from glare.

A bird came to the feeder at the window and started tapping away at the food.  Astrid got up and threw some milk into a blender, added a banana, a raw egg, and blasted it all to smithereens.  She got a glass out of the cupboard and poured the goop into a tall glass.

“Drink,” she said, putting the glass directly in front of me.  She sat back down and put her feet up on the table and crossed them at the ankles.  She started rubbing her toes together, looking at me.  “What?”

“Nothing.”  I gulped down the mess without breathing.  Rin’s toes.  Dammit!

“ ’nother?”

“No thanks.”  I wiped my mouth with the back of my sleeve.  I suddenly wondered where the rest of the crew might be.  “Where is everybody?”

“Gone.”

“Gone?”

“Gone.”  Wordy sort.

“And they might be where?”

“Practice.”

“Practice?”

“You’re wearing me out.”  Astrid got up, adjusted her thong and left the kitchen.

. . .from the novel in progress. . .Permanent Declarations of a Temporary Love

Sinatra. . .Dorsey. . .65 cents. . .

The RCA Victor Dance Caravan--70 years ago in Cleveland

Fascinating article about the RCA Victor Dance Caravan that visited Cleveland during World War II.

. . .I wasn't there. . .

Mindy Smith--Winchester Music Hall in Cleveland--November 18th. . .

Permanent Declarations of a Temporary Love

I was about as drunk as a person could be.  I heard Frank singing in the background but I had no recollection of putting him on.  I was sitting in my hot tub and shriveling up like a prune.  I was in danger of sinking beneath the surface.  You can just take that metaphorically if you wish.  My soul was sinking along with my head.  I dipped down into the tub and just had my nose and eyes above the water.  Which would be why I didn’t hear the latch on the door behind me.

Rin dipped into the tub across from me.  All I saw was smooth brown skin and fleeting black pubic hair dive below the skim of the water.  I came up.  This I didn’t need.  If Amber walked in I was toast on a stick.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Rin asked. 

Mind?  On what planet would I mind?   I wasn’t about to burst out in tears of rage.  I wasn’t about to ask the good Lord why he was doing this to me either.  I thought maybe I’d just enjoy the moment.  Although I was good and snookered, part of me was enjoying the moment already. 

She motioned for the bottle of Southern Comfort and I handed it over to her.  She drained about a third of it without blinking an eye or catching a breath.  I stared at her with wonder and admiration.  Speech.  I finally found speech.

“No, I don’t mind.”  She offered the bottle back to me.  I shook it off and she set it down on the table outside the tub.  I stared at her and she back at me.  I felt a set of toes inch up my leg.  Naturally, in my impaired state, I wiggled my own first to make sure I wasn’t somehow becoming a contortionist.  Now was the time for me to get up and run.  Except it would be quite obvious that my betrayer would be happily jiggling in the wind and want to go in the opposite direction.  I hadn’t a clue what was up here.  Besides me. 

Rin’s toes planted themselves on one side of my groin.  My groin?  What?  Am I a sports announcer?  Why do they say that in football games on TV?  He has a groin pull.  He has a groin injury.  He got kicked in the balls.  Somebody put a mean hurt on Mr. Happy.  But, I digress.  With one set of toes firmly planted on the Eastern side of my penis, the other set of toes, like Lewis and Clark and eight of their pals going up a perverted creek, were climbing the  side of my other leg and found a home on the opposite side.  Rin was staring into my eyes and I could do little but stare back.  Well, let me correct myself.  I certainly could do something.  And a stronger person might have.  A less drunk one.  Maybe a more moral one.  I could rationalize this.  This was a set of toes.  A pair of them.  And hell, who’s to say they were forty-five-year-old toes or twenty-something toes?  They were toes goddamn it!  And all of a sudden they were moving up and down.  I had no idea whether my toes were supposed to be returning the favor, but I kept them right where they were.  And a good thing too.  Although I was still staring right into Rin’s eyes, my ears were working perfectly.   I heard the latch on the door this time.  In what seemed like an eternity, I saw Rin smile at me as she furiously moved her toes up and down.  I came with such intensity I buried my head beneath the water to keep from screaming.  I came back up slowly and looked at my daughter disrobing, casting aside her clothes and flashing a bright pink bikini as she gently eased herself into the hot tub without a care in the world.

  I felt my penis slowly deflate into a nub of dread.    

“What’s up?” Amber asked.  I looked at Rin and she smiled.

“Not a thing.”  I said.

“Not now.” said Rin.  Amber looked at Rin and then looked at me.  I motioned for the Southern Comfort and started drinking.

“So, Rin,” Amber said, “tomorrow’s your fourteenth birthday, right?”  I started choking on the Southern Comfort.  I coughed and wheezed.  Amber came over and started hammering me on the back.  Rin was laughing so hysterically she started snorting.

“Plus a decade,” she said between bursts of glee.

Amber started rubbing my back after I had calmed down.  She moved back over to her side of the hot tub.  We sat in silence for several minutes. 

“Time for me to get out,” Rin said.  She got up, natural as can be, the water slipping off her smooth skin.  She lifted one leg up and out and then the other one, grabbed a towel, and started patting herself dry.  Amber watched as her new naked roommate trailed away and casually entered my bathroom.  She then turned very slowly around to me.  I believe if it were a symphony, this would have been described as a largo movement.

“It’s just another proud moment for your daughter,” Amber said.  I started coughing and choking again.  She just stared at me.

“It must have been something I ate,” I said, calming down once again.

“I certainly hope not.”  She got out of the tub, grabbed a towel, and stared down at me.

“What?”

“Tomorrow we’ve got work to do.”

“Okay.”  She dried herself off.

“It’s a good thing I love you so much.”

“A good thing.”

“Oh no. A very good thing,” she said.

“Indeed.  A very good thing.” 

“Do I need to drain this thing?” she nodded down into the tub.

“I think these chemicals kill just about everything, don’t they?”

“We can only hope.”  Amber turned and walked out the door.

I sat there and pondered why my life took these turns. 

Rin came out of the bathroom, dressed, and looked over at me. 

“I need you to do something for me,” she said.

“Anything,” I said.

“I want you to kill somebody for me.”  She walked out the door.

. . .from the novel in progress. . .Permanent Declarations of a Temporary Love

Permanent Declarations of a Temporary Love

If you called me stupid you certainly wouldn’t be the first. 

I was back at the airport.  This time putting Sara on a plane.  Rin had gone along for the ride.  My sum total of time spent with Sara had been less than a day.  Half of that time with my neglected appendage tucked away in warmth and wonder.  Was this how it was going to be?  Fleeting flings in tired sheets and then back off to Asia?  I didn’t think I could live the rest of my life this way.

“I know you’re upset with me,” Sara said.

“I understand.”  I was tapping my foot.  That must have passed for more than boredom.  Rin kept a respectful ten feet away looking at the arrival and departure monitors.

“You’re just saying that.”

“Yes, you’re right.” 

“I’ve got to do this.  You know that.”

“Knowing it and liking it are two different things.”

“You know, you are a free agent,” Sara said.  She looked into my eyes for me to say something in return.

“Is that your way of saying you’ve got some man stashed back in Korea or Japan or some other ricey place?”   Did I really hear myself say ricey place?  Sara pressed her body against me and kissed me for a long time.  It was one of those kisses, although immensely enjoyable, I wanted to peek an eye open to see if we were being filmed or watched by hundreds of potential passengers and gossipers.  I broke it off and hugged her tightly.  Rin was engrossed in us now. 

“You’re the man,” Sara said, coming up for air.  “But, look.  We’ve never been exactly about commitment.”

“That would be your choice,” I said, picking a particle of dust off her sweater.

“I can’t begin to help who I am anymore than you can help writing your next great American novel, reading Dostoevsky, or finding ambient music endlessly fascinating.  And notice I didn’t even mention your penchant for bedding young girls.”

“Uh, you just did.”

“I think Rin might just have a thing for you.”  I looked over at Rin.  She was staring at us.

“Let’s not go there shall we?”

“Oh, I won’t go there.  I don’t swing that way.  But, perhaps, you might just get lucky.”

“Luck I don’t need.  It’s you I need.”

“And we might just accomplish that one of these days.”

“Yeah, when I’m close to eighty and this thing doesn’t work anymore.”

“This thing?” Sara patted my crotch.  I looked to see who was looking.  Ten seats worth of a girls soccer team and three nuns seated across from them.  And an airport security officer headed our way.  I put a bit of distance between us and he walked by us.  Apparently we weren’t the object of his intentions.

“Any idea when you might be back for more than just breakfast?”

“You forgot about dessert.”  Sara looked up into my eyes. 

“Are we over, Sara?”  I guess I just had to know.  If you don’t ask, you don’t know.

“We’re never over.”

“I need more than an occasional dipping of the stick, you know.”  The boarding announcement came over the loudspeaker for Sara’s plane.

“I’ve got to go.  I’ll call.”  Sara kissed me on the lips and was off to get in line.  I stood there looking like the loneliest person in the world.  She turned back around.  “A dipping of the stick?”  She shook her head and walked through the door to board the plane.

. . .from the novel in progress . ..