“The Day After The Night Before” Chapter 2

The Paperback Edition…

I had read someplace or perhaps been told by one of my  journalism professors that if you plan on writing “The Great American Novel”…which incidentally, I actually did…you should always carry a notebook or some other kind of recording device with you at all times in order to remember anything you may find memorable.

However…for the past year… weekend mornings had not proven to be very productive… or perhaps just not memorable.

Sometimes I was lucky to just be able to read the scrawls that I had “so importantly” jotted down the night before.  I picked my notebook up and blinked a couple of times to clear my vision.

My little notebook was not the standard reporter’s notebook that I always carried to work each day…stuffed into my messenger bag.

That size notebook would be too bulky to carry into bars or restaurants plus it would attract a lot of attention.

My “little notebook” was small enough to fit into any of my handbags or even the back pocket of my jeans.

These days I almost always just wore jeans and a tee shirt.   The color varied…black or white.  In the winter I added a blazer or jacket.  If I had a meeting…which was rare… I added a scarf.

It was pretty basic…some might even say boring…but it worked for me.

I flipped the notebook open and placed it in front of my half-opened eyes.  Squinting a little, I saw that I had only managed to scrawl on two pages and neither page had any of my trademark exclamation marks…well, well…

Two pages were hardly worth the effort it would take right now to decipher.  I was pretty sure it was just junk anyway…

I had been in a junk mood yesterday.

 

 

 

“THE DAY AFTER THE NIGHT BEFORE” Chapter 1

The Paperback Edition…

I slowly opened my eyes.   A little sliver of light was trying to peek through the edge of the shade covering the window in my bedroom that over looked my back yard.  Normally, it was a pleasant light, but this morning it hurt my eyes,  so I quickly closed them again.

A few vivid images of a more than slightly out of control young woman dancing with abandon at Doyle’s last night flashed through my mind like a movie trailer…yeah, that was me.  I winced…a bad movie trailer.

I remember pulling out the little notebook I always carried and then writing down  my observations on all the drunken people around me.

They were dancing and drinking and…being mostly drunk myself…not knowing how pretentious I appeared and in fact…was.

But last night I did not care one straw.

I wondered what nonsense I had thought was so wildly insightful the night before when 4 (maybe more?) whiskey sours had given me such a false sense of importance.  Whatever it was it would be in my notebook.

I carefully and slowly turned my head on my pillow.  Lately I had had too many mornings like this one to know how painful a quick turning of the head could be.

I was…unfortunately…becoming very learned in the art of drinking…

And there it was…lying on my bedside table where I had thrown it last night.

“I just ate less…among other things…”

HERE’S THE DEAL…

I have done so much damn research on this I am almost blind…

But.  I have double checked the results and I can report beyond a shadow of a doubt that I can eat one whole Hershey’s candy bar (no nuts) every day after dinner and it will be just fine.

I AM NOT KIDDING YOU.  I WOULD NOT KID YOU!!!!!

Listen to me…I NEED that candy bar…now…more than ever!!

My daughter just informed me over ZOOM that I won’t be seeing her or my 2 AWESOME granddaughters and super son-in-law until…maybe…

NEXT THANKSGIVING!!!!!!!!!!!!  AS IN 2021!!!!!!!!!!

IKR? WTF!!!!!!!!!  😦

Have a nice day…

 

 

 

 

“First Love” Chapter 16

“Paperback Edition”

I hardly slept the night before the party and I was wide awake when the birds started chirping “good morning”.

I don’t know if I was more nervous about being with Bobby again or wondering if my mother would say something awful to him when he came to pick me up.

But I was all ready when he came and after just a few quick pleasantries with my mom and dad, we were out the door.

Bobby walked ahead of me to a brand-new blue and white Chevrolet and opened the passenger door for me.

“Where did you get the car?” I asked, getting in.  I had assumed we would be riding to his aunt and uncle’s house with his parents.  I knew he had sold his own car when he had enlisted in the Navy.

“It’s a rental,” he replied.  “I thought we should go separately in case we wanted to leave early.”

“You know my parents, Sammy, once they start playing cards, they can go on for hours.” he said laughing.

I laughed too.  I had seen them in action many times.

I loved Bobby’s laugh, it could still the devil himself.

The party was already in full swing when we got there.  Bobby’s parents almost crushed me with hugs and his little sister, Mary, shyly handed me a candle she had made at her summer Craft Camp.

There was a huge table loaded with food…his Aunt Lou was a fantastic cook…and his Uncle Brian knew how to share a bottle of Irish whiskey.  Everyone was having a swell time.

It was about 5:00 and the ‘final dessert’ had been passed around and both Bobby and I were stuffed…and we were “not…no, no…absolutely not…thank you very much” said Bobby “going to play canasta with them”.

We walked out to the backyard and sat down on a bench under a huge elm tree.  It was a normal July day in Minnesota…hot.  We watched the younger kids play badminton but even in the shade it was too warm for us.

I looked at Bobby…he was sweating and I was ‘glistening’… we both agreed we had had enough ‘summer’.

He got up, took my hand and we headed back to the house.  He carefully opened the back door, motioned for me to be quiet and we crept into the empty kitchen…like thieves in the night.

Bobby opened the door to the basement and flicked on the stair light and let me go first.  He closed the door softly behind him and followed me down the stairs.

It was a seventy-five-year-old house and the basement was ‘decorated’ 50’s style…with linoleum on the floor, cheap wood paneling on the walls and cast-off sofas, chairs and tables scattered around.  There was an old record player next to the fireplace.

It was wonderfully cool and quiet.

Bobby went over and was looking at his cousin’s old record collection.  I sat down on the sofa and leaned my head back and closed my eyes…still almost not believing that now…right now…I was with Bobby again…after all this time.

I slowly opened my eyes and smiled.  “It’s All in the Game” was playing on the record player.  It had been one of our favorite songs to dance to in high school.

“Want to dance, Sammy?” asked Bobby, holding his arms out to me.

I didn’t need to answer.  I just stood up and started to put my arms out…like you would if you were going to dance with an old friend…but that’s not how Bobby and I had danced…so long ago.

He slipped his arms around my waist, moving us closer together and my arms went naturally around his neck and we were…together.

Only a few seconds passed and then Bobby pulled back a little…his questioning eyes almost asking permission as he looked at me, and then hesitating just a little…he kissed me.

And then he kissed me again…and again.

 

“I just ate less…among other things…”

IT’S OVER…

I can’t believe it…my heart is breaking…it’s done.  I knew it was coming, but still…

It seems like only yesterday that everything was in front of me…a plan…a ritual…even dreams…

But now…IT’S OVER.

It started out so brilliantly…I was so full of hope and joy!

First came the crisp autumnal breezes blowing orange and red tinted leaves past  my window…and then…white flakes of snow fluttering down.

There was Domino’s Pizza every week!  And…dessert…with no regrets.

There wasn’t a day I didn’t think about you.  Some mornings I would wake early…so excited to be with you that day.

It was all part of the experience…and I loved it.  I’ve been down this road before.

I laughed.  I screamed.  Sometimes I was so still…I hardly breathed.  And yes…I even cried…once or twice…just a tear or two.

But even so…week after week…the joy was there… the promise…ALWAYS THERE!!!  ALWAYS!!

But now…GONE…GONE FOREVER…………………..well maybe not quite forever…

But at least until the 23rd of April……….NFL DRAFT DAY!!!!!!!    

(OF COURSE THERE IS THE NFL COMBINE ON FEBRUARY 23…BUT WHO REALLY CARES ABOUT THAT CRAP…)*

Have a nice day…

*Okay…I’ll probably listen to all the recaps on the radio…but that’s it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“First Love” Chapter 16

“Paperback Edition”

I hardly slept the night before the party and I was wide awake when the birds started chirping “good morning”.

I don’t know if I was more nervous about being with Bobby again or wondering if my mother would say something awful to him when he came to pick me up.

But I was all ready when he came and after just a few quick pleasantries with my mom and dad, we were out the door.

Bobby walked ahead of me to a brand-new blue and white Chevrolet and opened the passenger door for me.

“Where did you get the car?” I asked, getting in.  I had assumed we would be riding to his aunt and uncle’s house with his parents.  I knew he had sold his own car when he had enlisted in the Navy.

“It’s a rental,” he replied.  “I thought we should go separately in case we wanted to leave early.”

“You know my parents, Sammy, once they start playing cards, they can go on for hours.” he said laughing.

I laughed too.  I had seen them in action many times.

I loved Bobby’s laugh, it could still the devil himself.

The party was already in full swing when we got there.  Bobby’s parents almost crushed me with hugs and his little sister, Mary, shyly handed me a candle she had made at her summer Craft Camp.

There was a huge table loaded with food…his Aunt Lou was a fantastic cook…and his Uncle Brian knew how to share a bottle of Irish whiskey.  Everyone was having a swell time.

It was about 5:00 and the ‘final dessert’ had been passed around and both Bobby and I were stuffed…and we were “not…no, no…absolutely not…thank you very much” said Bobby “going to play canasta with them”.

We walked out to the backyard and sat down on a bench under a huge elm tree.  It was a normal July day in Minnesota…hot.  We watched the younger kids play badminton but even in the shade it was too warm for us.

I looked at Bobby…he was sweating and I was ‘glistening’… we both agreed we had had enough ‘summer’.

He got up, took my hand and we headed back to the house.  He carefully opened the back door, motioned for me to be quiet and we crept into the empty kitchen…like thieves in the night.

Bobby opened the door to the basement and flicked on the stair light and let me go first.  He closed the door softly behind him and followed me down the stairs.

It was a seventy-five-year-old house and the basement was ‘decorated’ 50’s style…with linoleum on the floor, cheap wood paneling on the walls and cast-off sofas, chairs and tables scattered around.  There was an old record player next to the fireplace.

It was wonderfully cool and quiet.

Bobby went over and was looking at his cousin’s old record collection.  I sat down on the sofa and leaned my head back and closed my eyes…still almost not believing that now…right now…I was with Bobby again…after all this time.

I slowly opened my eyes and smiled.  “It’s All in the Game” was playing on the record player.  It had been one of our favorite songs to dance to in high school.

“Want to dance, Sammy?” asked Bobby, holding his arms out to me.

I didn’t need to answer.  I just stood up and started to put my arms out…like you would if you were going to dance with an old friend…but that’s not how Bobby and I had danced…so long ago.

He slipped his arms around my waist, moving us closer together and my arms went naturally around his neck and we were…together.

Only a few seconds passed and then Bobby pulled back a little…his questioning eyes almost asking permission as he looked at me, and then hesitating just a little…he kissed me.

And then he kissed me again…and again.

 

“The Day After The Night Before” Chapter 2

The Paperback Edition…

I had read someplace or perhaps been told by one of my  journalism professors that if you plan on writing “The Great American Novel”…which incidentally, I actually did…you should always carry a notebook or some other kind of recording device with you at all times in order to remember anything you may find memorable.

However…for the past year… weekend mornings had not proven to be very productive… or perhaps just not memorable.

Sometimes I was lucky to just be able to read the scrawls that I had “so importantly” jotted down the night before.  I picked my notebook up and blinked a couple of times to clear my vision.

My little notebook was not the standard reporter’s notebook that I always carried to work each day…stuffed into my messenger bag.

That size notebook would be too bulky to carry into bars or restaurants plus it would attract a lot of attention.

My “little notebook” was small enough to fit into any of my handbags or even the back pocket of my jeans.

These days I almost always just wore jeans and a tee shirt.   The color varied…black or white.  In the winter I added a blazer or jacket.  If I had a meeting…which was rare… I added a scarf.

It was pretty basic…some might even say boring…but it worked for me.

I flipped the notebook open and placed it in front of my half-opened eyes.  Squinting a little, I saw that I had only managed to scrawl on two pages and neither page had any of my trademark exclamation marks…well, well…

Two pages were hardly worth the effort it would take right now to decipher.  I was pretty sure it was just junk anyway…

I had been in a junk mood yesterday.