Talked to my former BF Russell Eisenman who was filled with great stories of his life as a psych professor at Rio Grande University. I think that's the name it was changed to, in very southern TX.
He used to live on Harrison Avenue in Elkins Park, PA. We talked about his two kids, David and Susan, his grandson Kelsey, his female family doctor who charges a fortune, and his awesome next door neighbor, Ram. Bet he doesn't cuddle up in bed with him as I do my next-door neighbor.
Scott's dad is in a very bad way. Hallucinating and now has pneumonia. Dave slept a lot today, his mom reported.
Told Russell I was gonna walk around the block to see all the beautiful Xmas decorations. Dressed warmly and kicked on my clogs and off I went.
I do not see the point of buying new things when the old things will do.
MY FIRST TRIP TO ALDI
SUPERMARKET
Cavernous, like a
warehouse, I arrived
without a cart. I'll
just pick up a few
items, I thought.
Aldi was started by
two German brothers
the way flight was
started by the
Brothers Wright.
These bruders were
Germans, Karl and Theo,
in 1946, who had their
differences and split
apart, like lightning
splintering a tree.
When I saw the cold-
pressed olive oil
I was hooked. Put it
in the bottom of a long
cardboard carton that
said Fresh Bagels.
Karl served in the German
Army in World War II. Dead
now, once the richest man
in Germany, his legacy is
this crowded store with
very polite shoppers and
my own virgin experience.
Kick your legs up and dance
as I hold up all my purchases
amounting to only $28.
Two Christmas gifts for the
grandkids, at $6 apiece,
cans of sweetened
condensed milk I slid
into the cupboard.
Of course there was one thing
I did not like. The parking
lot is on a hill. What is
this, San Francisco?
***
Got my Letter to the Editor about the late David Kime published in the Courier Times. Read it here.
The most published Letter was about a 26-yo girl Ashley
Gonna publish excerpts.
Ashley of Morrisville passed away suddenly Thursday, Dec. 14, 2017, another victim of the horrible opioid epidemic. She was 26. Born in Bristol, Ashley was a lifelong Morrisville resident. Ashley was a graduate of Morrisville High School, Class of 2010, and more recently a licentiate of the Levittown Beauty Academy. As a child, she was a competitive gymnast who enjoyed the emulous world of this sport and the camaraderie shared among her teammates.
Some of her other interests included travel, music, concerts, and spending time with friends. She had a deep love of all animals, especially penguins. She loved Bigshot, her cat, and Chester, her dog, whom she rescued as strays. Ashley was preceded in death by both sets of grandparents; her Uncle Edward; and Aunt Dottie Krivenko. She leaves to cherish her memory her parents, Robert and Mary Lou (Stella) Graves; her brother, Brian Graves; her twin sister, Amanda Graves (Casey Smith); a niece, Emma Smith; and several aunts, uncles, and cousins. Relatives and friends are invited to attend her Life Celebration at 8 p.m. Wednesday, Dec. 20, at the J. Allen Hooper Funeral Chapel, 41 W. Trenton Ave., Morrisville. The Rev. Wendy Bellis, Pastor of the Morrisville United Methodist Church, will officiate. Her interment will be held privately at the convenience of the family.
***
THE OTHER GIANT
On my way home from the bank
another Giant Supermarket -
the Lesser Giant - looms on
Horsham Road.
To me, it was like a
hurricane struck it,
tossed things up in the
air and roundabout and
settled where it did.
There were the mushrooms
which were on my list,
the onions. Kathy, in
her red Giant uniform
asked if I needed help.
Dyou have a Hot Bar, I asked.
Soup du Jour?
She was very kind. You know
what, I said. I just wrote
a short story and the main
character was Kathy with a C.
In line, a lovely corpulent woman,
possibly my age, with white springy
curls, was making Christmas for the
first time in forty years.
Her husband paid with cash.
One hundred and fifty five dollars
and seven cents.
I think I've got the change, he said,
as he pulled it from his pocket.
What a delightful interlude. Talking
to strangers as if we were one big
family. And you know what?
We are.
***
Two more. Look they're cheering me on. They don't want me to go upstairs and read myself to sleep.
EATING BREAKFAST AT THE
TERMINAL LUNCHEONETTE
You can't beat the name.
As I stood on the step
ready to enter, I could
smell the hearty breakfasts
they serve.
The place was mobbed and
I mean mobbed. A line
stood at the entrance
of this place, regulars
all!
In my warm coat and gloves
I walked over to the counter
and seated myself in front of
the drink machine.
Coke, Sprite, Diet Coke,
Lemonade. My stomach began
to grumble. Spinach omelet
with cheddar cheese and
home fries with onions.
Who could I talk to
to pass the time? The
woman on my right also
ordered Coffee and cold
water. Not into talking.
Owner Chris came out to
say Merry Christmas to his
customers and shake their
hands. A fire destroyed the
place two years ago, too much
grease in the basement, and I
was happy for him and Maria.
I made two mistakes when I was
paying. I had bundles of cash
in my wallet, but it wasn't there!
Can you give your little grandchildren
cash on Christmas?
The ATM was over by the game section.
I withdrew a twenty and paid a
ridiculous $2 Chris charged to use
it.
When I told the guy sitting next
to me, he said next time bring
your cash.
I was so mad - at myself - that
when I paid, I minded my manners
and gave a nice tip, as I
always do.
On the drive home I listened to
my brutal audio book The Underground
Railroad by Colson Whitehead.
All them dead slaves. For their sake
I hope their Jesus welcomes them
when they go home.
I mean mobbed. A line
stood at the entrance
of this place, regulars
all!
In my warm coat and gloves
I walked over to the counter
and seated myself in front of
the drink machine.
Coke, Sprite, Diet Coke,
Lemonade. My stomach began
to grumble. Spinach omelet
with cheddar cheese and
home fries with onions.
Who could I talk to
to pass the time? The
woman on my right also
ordered Coffee and cold
water. Not into talking.
Owner Chris came out to
say Merry Christmas to his
customers and shake their
hands. A fire destroyed the
place two years ago, too much
grease in the basement, and I
was happy for him and Maria.
I made two mistakes when I was
paying. I had bundles of cash
in my wallet, but it wasn't there!
Can you give your little grandchildren
cash on Christmas?
The ATM was over by the game section.
I withdrew a twenty and paid a
ridiculous $2 Chris charged to use
it.
When I told the guy sitting next
to me, he said next time bring
your cash.
I was so mad - at myself - that
when I paid, I minded my manners
and gave a nice tip, as I
always do.
On the drive home I listened to
my brutal audio book The Underground
Railroad by Colson Whitehead.
All them dead slaves. For their sake
I hope their Jesus welcomes them
when they go home.
***
THE DOOMSDAY MACHINE OR
REQUIEM FOR OUR PLANET
Still handsome at 86, Daniel
Ellsberg spoke on Channel 12
about his newest book
The Doomsday Machine,
as I nibbled on my trail mix.
It's nothing new, he said,
the authorities, the rulers,
always make war. It's different
now, with our powerful
chop-you-to-pieces-and
eviscerate-you nuclear bombs.
Soto voce, he described what would
happen to our planet when the
blasts arrive. The sun's heat and
light would disappear. All food
would eventually disappear.
Disappear!
How would we die? Picture the
starving in Africa or our
Inner Cities. We'd starve
to death.
I put down my bowl of trail
mix, looked lovingly at it,
as I picked up one more raisin.
The tender grapes of California
would shrivel in their skins
and be as useless as you and I.
As you can see, I am now a redhead.
the authorities, the rulers,
always make war. It's different
now, with our powerful
chop-you-to-pieces-and
eviscerate-you nuclear bombs.
Soto voce, he described what would
happen to our planet when the
blasts arrive. The sun's heat and
light would disappear. All food
would eventually disappear.
Disappear!
How would we die? Picture the
starving in Africa or our
Inner Cities. We'd starve
to death.
I put down my bowl of trail
mix, looked lovingly at it,
as I picked up one more raisin.
The tender grapes of California
would shrivel in their skins
and be as useless as you and I.
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