So that was it, then. She finally left him. After all those threats and tearful rants, she packed a bag and left.
Oh, this wasn’t the first time. Every week she’d get into a tizzy, start throwing things around the place, threatening to leave. But she never did.
She’d get as far as the front door, then stop, turn around and run back into his open arms. They’d fall on the bed and passionately make up, each one promising never to fight again, each one swearing their unending love. Always feeding off each other’s desperation.
It never ceased to amuse him, the look of shock on her face when he beat her each time after having sex. What a stupid, insipid cow. She never learned her lesson. The one thing he hated more than her rants was the fact that she was such a slow learner.
But this time’s different. She actually left him.
On the third morning, alone in their tiny apartment, he lit a cigarette and stared out the window. That’s when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. So, she couldn’t stay away after all. He didn’t even bother turning around when the door opened. He knew one look at her face, he’d want to bash it in.
Just as well. He never saw the gun as she ended his life.
“Police. There’s been a shooting. Send someone round. Yes, the phone booth by Miller’s Road.”
David ben Alexander, The Skeptic’s Kaddish, has inspired me to take a page from his book and create my first Dectina Refrain Poem
photo art by misky.uk
You looking at us five? We are unique. How we worry you! Why are you so afraid when you don’t even know us? Our five hearts are breaking for you, consumed with hate, so unaccepting. “You looking at us five? We are unique.”
Welcome to Birthday Thursdays here in The Rhythm Section. Each week I will feature someone from the world of music whose birthday falls on that day. There won’t be any chit chat from me, no facts and figures – just some great tunes (and an occasional surprise). Check it out right here every Thursday and enjoy the music.
Happy Birthday to Mary Travers Born November 9, 1936 in Louisville, Kentucky
Once again Denise from GirlieOnTheEdge has challenged us to create a Six Sentence Story incorporating the word “balance”. I have used one of my own photos for inspiration.
Some of my plants
My mother-in-law Gertrude was a wonderful woman; she raised a family of four kids (including one set of twins) and provided quite well for all of them on one income – her husband’s very ordinary salary for his work in the produce shipping department of the Long Island Railroad – not an easy task but she managed.
She was a homemaker – one of the vast majority of American women in the 1950s who chose not to work outside the house; while doing all the household chores, caring for the kids, attending Mass, going to school meetings and leaping tall buildings in a single bound, my mother-in-law still found the time to cultivate an impressive green thumb – a skill she taught me and one I am now passing on to my granddaughter.
One of the first times I met Gertrude, she brought me up to the enclosed front porch of the house to show me her impressive collection of plants; they were all nature’s incredible works of art – healthy green leaves with swollen, flowering buds – and I was immediately stung by the gardening bug.
Sometime after Bill and I were married, my mother-in-law gave me a plant – a coleus she had rooted from cuttings of one of her own plants; I placed the new addition to my small collection on a windowsill in our apartment and proudly watched it flourish, but one day, to my dismay, the coleus did not look healthy and eventually started losing its leaves and became spindly.
When I told Gertrude about my bad luck with the plant, she gave me some pointers and then said something that I have never forgotten: “Sometimes you just have to be ruthless; cut the plant back, way down to the dirt, remove all the dead stems and give it another chance to grow.”
I’ve be trying to apply that philosophy to my personal life when people or things become too demanding, draining me of my time and energy, pushing me to the limit, overwhelming; balance is not something we find but something we create and there are times when we have to be ruthless and cut back, way down to the dirt, let go of those outside forces dragging us down and give ourselves another chance to grow.
A four-line response to the photo-prompt challenge below from Greg @ Four Line Fiction
Image: Abandon Houses / Abandon, Decaying and Forgotten Group – Facebook
“Is there really such a thing as the perfect marriage?” Marcella wondered; at one time she believed the answer was “yes”.
Now, laying on her bed alone in her apartment, Marcella’s head was swimming; after 18 years of marriage, how could she have been so terribly mistaken?
She had discovered a loose thread, one which kept annoying her, and as she toyed with it, pulled on it, every neatly sewn stitch in the tapestry of her life began to unravel until there was nothing left but tatters.
“How does a man who seemed unwaveringly devoted to her and their daughter have another wife and children on the other side of town and everyone knew except her?” Marcella asked herself, her mind now numb; the very idea was staggering and she nearly laughed at how totally preposterous and unimaginable it all was.
Since 1934 when the FCC was created, countless recordings have been banned or censored for a variety of reasons, including “provocative or sexually suggestive lyrics, inciting violence or promoting hate and political or religious beliefs and/or associations”.
The ban on most, if not all of these songs has been lifted; however, in some countries, certain types of music are still banned. They are considered illegal and carry severe penalties if the law is broken. Incredible, isn’t it?
Come join me as I reveal some of these controversial songs, why they were banned and the artists who made them (in)famous.
A Day In The Life – The Beatles
This song is the final track on the Beatles 1967 album “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band”, written by John Lennon and Paul McCartney. It became controversial and ultimately banned for its supposed references to drugs. On May 20, 1967, during the BBC Light Programme’s preview of the Sgt. Pepper album, disc jockey Kenny Everett was prevented from playing “A Day in the Life”. The BBC announced that it would not broadcast the song due to the line “I’d love to turn you on”, which, according to the corporation, advocated drug use.
Other lyrics allegedly referring to drugs include “found my way upstairs and had a smoke /somebody spoke and I went into a dream“. A spokesman for the BBC stated: “We have listened to this song over and over again and we have decided that it appears to go just a little too far and could encourage a permissive attitude to drug-taking.
Lennon and McCartney denied that there were drug references in “A Day in the Life” and publicly complained about the ban at a dinner party at the home of their manager, Brian Epstein, where they were celebrating their album’s release. Lennon said that the song was simply about “a crash and its victim” and called the line in question “the most innocent of phrases”.
I’m going to let you decide for yourselves. Here is the phenomenal “A Day in the Life” by the Beatles:
🙈 🙉 🙊
Brown Eyed Girl – Van Morrison
Our second featured song was written by Northern Irish singer-songwriter Van Morrison in March 1967. It was released as a single in June of the same year, peaking at #10 on the Billboard Hot 100.
“Brown Eyed Girl” spent a total of 16 weeks on the charts and is considered to be Morrison’s signature song. We all know it and love it. Why would a song like this get put on the banned list?
Well, what some people may not know is the original name of this masterpiece was “Brown Skinned Girl” and was about an interracial couple – apparently a very big no-no to the censorship board back then. The title was changed by Morrison because he thought it would make it more “radio friendly”, and it did; when you listen to the words of this song, there isn’t a hint about a mixed-race couple. Some stations banned the song’s line “Making love in the green grass”; an edited version was eventually released, altering the line to “laughin’and a-runnin’, hey, hey.”
What a bunch of hooey balooey!
Van Morrison has been a favorite of mine for a long time and I love his work; this delightful song is no exception. Let’s listen now to “Brown Eyed Girl” by Sir Van Morrison.
Now that wasn’t so bad for my new category and probably not exactly what you expected, was it? I wonder how many of you got nervous when you saw the word ‘BANNED’! No need.
Here’s the thing: I could have gone with any debauched and salacious video on YouTube; there are plenty to choose from but that’s not what The Rhythm Section is about. I’m no stranger to cursing; when done by a master such as George Carlin it is an art-form. Disgusting, non-stop gutter talk, such as demonstrated by Andrew Dice Clay, is just boring filth and totally necessary. When cursing, one needs to paint with a fine brush, placing every word precisely where it belongs. The result is magical … and often hysterical. No, I will never pooh-pooh the appropriate use of foul language.
The objective here is to be entertained and to learn about and listen to music that has been banned for social, religious or political issues …. not to look at naked private parts swinging in the breeze. Let’s keep that private, shall we?
Thanks for joining me today for the first installment of I’m With The Banned. I’d love to know what you thought of today’s post and these two (in)famous songs. Join me next Tuesday for two more.
Time to head on outta here before the Feds come looking for me!
Both men lived in the same apartment building, one on the ground floor and the other, two flights up. They would see each other in passing, nodding ‘hello’ or muttering the occasional “How ya doing?” They were approximately the same age and had seen each other often but a friendship never developed.
Then the corona virus hit and everything changed.
They happened upon each other in a nearby park, masked up, walking their dogs. One had a golden retriever, the other a chocolate lab. They struck up a socially distanced conversation, at first talking about their dogs then, of course, the craziness of COVID.
They were both unemployed computer engineers, laid off because of company closures. Each one contemplated moving back in with their parents but that was impossible; neither one came from accepting or understanding families.
They started biking and jogging together, often running the six miles that made up the full loop around Central Park. As they talked they discovered they had much in common: their nonexistent love lives, their passion for chess, a fascination with micro-brewing and their dream of working from home as computer app designers. And how gut-wrenching it was coming out as gay. Bittersweet commentaries.
The next step was so natural: moving in together. They could share one apartment and save money, work on ideas for app design programs, dabble in a little home-made beer and totally, passionately, fiercely fall in love.
A new year, a new start. Love in the time of corona.
Jim at Song Lyric Sunday has presented us with this challenge: “Find a song that you feel is an underrated deep album cut.” OK, friends. Here we go!
“Nantucket Sleighride” is the second studio album by the American hard rock band Mountain, released in January 1971.
The title track “Nantucket Sleighride” (To Owen Coffin) and album title is a reference to the experience of being towed along in a boat by a harpooned whale.
Poor Owen, to whom the song is dedicated, was a young seaman on the Nantucket whaler Essex, which was rammed and sunk by a sperm whale in 1820. In the aftermath of the wreck, Coffin was shot and eaten by his shipmates. The story of the Essex was recorded by its First Mate Owen Chase, one of eight survivors, in his 1821 “Narrative of the Most Extraordinary and Distressing Shipwreck of the Whale-Ship Essex”.
On the list of 100 Most Underrated Rock Songs, “Nantucket Sleighride” stands in the whopping #10 slot. What?? Are you kidding me? The 10th most underrated rock song of all time. What are these list-compilers smoking?
I don’t have the answer to that and I can’t even hazard a guess. “Nantucket Sleighride” is one of Mountain’s (and Leslie West’s) greatest achievements. It is a stone classic of 1970s heavy metal and a guitarist’s dream. This title track from the album is easily Mountain’s greatest individual song. The band took its inspiration from Cream and turned it into some of the finest guitar driven hard rock ever put on record. If anyone doesn’t agree that Leslie West is a great guitarist and this song is epic, then I suggest they just listen.
This is Mountain and “Nantucket Sleighride” (To Owen Coffin)
Lyrics Goodbye, little Robin-Marie Don’t try following me Don’t cry, little Robin-Marie ‘Cause you know I’m coming home soon
My ships’ leaving on a three-year tour The next tide will take us from shore Windlaced, gather in sail and spray On a search for the mighty sperm whale
Fly your willow branches Wrap your body round my soul Lay down your reeds and drums on my soft sheets There are years behind us reaching To the place where hearts are beating And I know you’re the last true love I’ll ever meet
Starbuck’s sharpening his harpoon The black man’s playing his tune An old salt’s sleeping his watch away He’ll be drunk again before noon
Three years sailing on bended knee We found no whales in the sea Don’t cry, little Robin-Marie ‘Cause we’ll be in sight of land soon
There are some people who seem to have everything go their way while others lead the life of Sisyphus – the fellow who was punished in Hades for his misdeeds in life by being condemned to the eternal task of rolling a large stone to the top of a hill, only to have it roll back down every single time.
Let’s talk about Helen Chase. She’s the woman with blonde hair sitting by herself at the center table. Check out her posture. That is not a look of relaxation; it’s total defeat.
Helen was a loner and prepared to lead the life of a spinster; then she met a pharmaceutical salesman named Douglas who swept her off her feet. They married but life with her new husband was choppy at best. Helen dreamed the dreams of new brides; Douglas wanted nothing more than a house-cleaning broodmare. Helen failed miserably at both.
Today is her 50th birthday and she’s celebrating alone, divorce proceedings having been finalized. No husband, no children. An empty existence.
Little does she know the man to the left wearing a black shirt and holding a red napkin is desperate to meet her but lacks courage. He comes here every day just to look at her. He’s been alone since his parents died. All he ever wanted was a woman to love, one who loved him. Someone to share his life.
He willed Helen to turn around, glance his way. Helen slouched further down, irretrievably immersed in doleful self-pity.
Today she would find out if her entire life was a lie.
“Where to, Mrs. Carmichael? Shall I call for your car?” asked her ever-attentive doorman, Harold.
“Not today, thank you. Just walking up to Brooks Brothers to buy an anniversary present for my husband. It’s our 15th.” She remembered she also needed to make astop at her psychologist’s office.
“Congratulations, Mrs. C! You have yourself a nice day.”
Claire Carmichael smiled at Harold and walked the short distance to her therapist’s office on Earl Street. Ringing Dr. Brink’s doorbell, she waited for his ubiquitous snobbish greeting of “Enter!”
“Welcome, Claire. Last time you were here we discussed your suspicions that Jeremy was having an affair. Why don’t we pick up from there?” he suggested.
Clearing her throat and adjusting her skirt, she began. “I’m no longer convinced Jeremy’s cheating on me. I’m not saying that he’s never had affairs but something is different. Things have changed between us. They’re better. Jeremy’s calmer, more attentive, grounded. He’s home every night by 6:00 and we enjoy our weekends together. No more overnight, out-of-town business trips and I’m actually happy for the first time in years.”
“Interesting” Dr. Brink acknowledged. “And to what do you attribute this change in Jeremy’s character?”
“We had a long talk the other night and it wasn’t easy for Jeremy. He confided in me that he’s been having panic attacks for quite some time. He finally started seeing a psychiatrist who’s helping him tremendously. He’s on medication and takes an early lunch twice a week to see his doctor.”
“And you believe him?”
“I do” Claire replied, uncomfortable with her therapist’s skepticism. And she did believe Jeremy; his explanation was credible and heartfelt.
“Did Jeremy happen to mention his psychiatrist’s name?”
Feeling rather nonplussed she replied “No, he didn’t and I didn’t ask. That would be prying – information I didn’t need to know. Now I really must get going. It’s our wedding anniversary and I have errands to run.”
“Good luck, Claire. Ever vigilant!” he called after her.
When Claire stepped outside there was a chill in the air; the sky was mottled and gray. That session unnerved her and she lingered for a while smoking a cigarette wondering what Dr. Brink meant when he said “Ever vigilant.” Muttering “shrinks!”, she wrapped her coat tightly around herself and quickly walked to Brooks Brothers. She chose a pair of monogrammed cuff links; they were elegant and ridiculously expensive but Claire wanted Jeremy to know how proud she was of him.
Leaving the store Claire decided to go across the street to their favorite French restaurant and arrange for a special anniversary dinner to be delivered to their apartment. Looking up Claire’s heart skipped a beat and she felt dizzy.
Exiting the restaurant was Jeremy, his arm around a captivating young woman. They were laughing, embracing and kissing as they walked.
Stunned, Claire threw the box from Brooks Brothers into a trash can and hailed a taxi.
“Where to, your highness?” The driver was uncouth with a big mouth, both physically and metaphorically. He chomped noisily on a cigar and Claire could smell his disgusting breath from the back seat. But he probably never cheated on his wife, she thought, acrid bitterness stinging the back of her throat.
“Just drive” was all she said; the cabbie smiled greedily as he flipped the meter.
Rochelle at “Friday Fictioneers” has challenged us to write a 100 word piece about how the image below inspired us. This is my original response to her challenge.
Devin and Charlie jumped out of her car, fiercely kissing and tearing at each other’s clothes.
What great luck for the teens with sex drives in hyper-mode; Devin’s cabin all to themselves while both sets of parents were far off on weekend vacations.
The teens planned to spend every minute in bed.
Devin retrieved the key from her pocket and unlocked the door.
The first shock was the romantic glow in the fireplace. The second? Finding all four parents getting it on …. and not with their own spouses.
And there stood Devin and Charlie letting it all hang out.
Rochelle at “Friday Fictioneers” has challenged us to write a 100 word piece about how the image below inspired us. This is my response to her challenge.
“We’re out of gas, Pepper.”
“Look, Brad! There’s a light! Let’s walk to it.”
“Good idea! Maybe someone can help.”
Arriving at a house, the couple was struck by its serene beauty. They dreamed of owning a home like this.
They knocked and a woman answered.
“May I help you?”
Brad explained their situation; the woman said there were full gasoline cans in the garage and invited them in.
The interior was breathtaking.
“Your house is gorgeous!” exclaimed Pepper.
“Oh, it’s not mine; I’m the selling agent. You interested?”
Brad and Pepper exchanged surprised and delighted glances.
Welcome to Birthday Thursdays here in The Rhythm Section. Each week I will feature someone from the world of music whose birthday falls on that day. There won’t be any chit chat from me, no facts and figures – just some great tunes (and an occasional surprise). Check it out right here every Thursday and enjoy the music.
Happy Birthday to Jay Black Born November 2, 1938 in Queens, New York
This is “Cara Mia” by Jay & The Americans
Jay & The Americans singing “She Cried”
The classic “Come A Little Bit Closer” – Jay & The Americans
Fandango gave us a Story Starter prompt and Denise at GirlieOnTheEdge challenged us to write a Six Sentence Story, being as creative with punctuation as we dare. This is my answer to Fan’s prompt and Girlie’s challenge. Enjoy! 🎶🎶🎶
One day when I was about nine years old, I was home with my mother when there was a knock on our door and when I answered it, I was very surprised to see Dottie Pessin – our pudgy-handed neighbor from around the corner who rarely made an appearance – standing there in her perpetually stained housecoat, carrying a thin, flat brown paper bag, hair in curlers, and declaring “Oh, Nancy, I’m soglad you’re home from school because I have something for you and I’d like to come in to show you.”
Well, it wasn’t every day that someone came to our door unannounced bearing gifts for me for no reason under the sun, so I was not about to turn Dottie away (I was no fool, even back then), but my mother had now joined us and was somewhat suspicious about this strange, unexpected visit and asked Dottie to explain herself, to which Dottie replied “I was out shopping when I came across this album of kid’s songs and I immediately thought of Nancy, so I bought it hoping she would like it” and clapping her pudgy hands added “I’m very anxious for her reaction so let’s give it a listen.”
Now, I don’t mind telling you this surprised the hell out of me and pleased me no end because I was already madly in love with everything about music and could barely contain my excitement as I reached for my little record player with the image of Brenda Lee on the lid; Dottie apparently shared my enthusiasm and as the music played she kept asking me “Do you like it? Do you like it?” to which I had to admit I did indeed like it very much (seeing as how I was a kid listening to an album of kid’s songs – what’s not to like?).
We listened to one side of the album and, as I was flipping it over to listen to the other side, Dottie exclaimed “Oh, I’m so pleased you like the album but I just noticed the time and the “Edge Of Night” is coming on in 15 minutes so I’m going to take the record back now and be on my way”; my mother, ever in She-Wolf mode, saw the confused and let-down look on my face and was damn well taken aback herself by that strange and sudden announcement by Dottie …. after all, the album was supposed to be a gift …. and my mother questioned Dottie in no uncertain terms “Just what the hell do you mean you’ll take Nancy’s gift back, Dottie?”
Without an apparent thought for others nor the slightest bit of remorse or worry …. not about my mother’s sizzling Sicilian volcano temper nor the sadness building in my eyes …. Dottie replied “Oh, this isn’t a gift for Nancy;I bought this for my friend’s daughter who’s the same age as Nancy, but since I don’t know anything about little girls (never having had any myself) and the things they like, I wanted to run it by Nancy first to get her opinion, just to make sure it was a good gift and my friend’s daughter wouldn’t be disappointed”, and with that, Dottie Pessin …. our pudgy-handed neighbor from around the corner who rarely made an appearance …. patted the curlers in her hair, took her thin, flat brown paper bag with the album of kid’s songs inside, held it tightly against her perpetually stained housecoat and bounced out our house like the giant green Grinchhelium balloon in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade without so much as a pudgy-handed wave or a glance over her shoulder to spy a regret-filled teardrop fall onto my purple Daisy Duck sweater (because all the other girls wore Minnie Mouse sweaters and I was never like all the other girls).
Now, you may be asking yourself “Could something this bizarre really be true and how could that woman screw with a little girl’s feelings like that?” and I will tell you that it most certainly is true – every pitiful word; I have no idea how someone could be so unaware and insensitive (unless they have their head so far up their ass they can smell Brylcreem) but, after 60-plus years, I still remember that surreal afternoon with Dottie Pessin like it was yesterday and, being a smart cookie for a 9 year old, I had the same thought about Dottie back then as I have this very moment: “What a stupid bitch!” 🌋
This is the Rolling Stones performing “Bitch” …. as if anything else would do!
It’s time to celebrate Birthday Thursdays over at The Rhythm Section. No fuss, no muss – just wall-to-wall music. Stop by for some cake and sympathy! 🎂 https://rhythmsection.blog/
Monastic specters floated seamlessly between the leafless trees of the old forgotten cemetery. Round-eyed owls hooted from crooked branches while huge black crows swooped in and perched on weathered headstones. Sensing their imminent demise, the blind field mice scurried to and fro, frantically searching for safety. Alas, not fast enough for that one pathetic rodent chasing his own tail. The crow snatched him up and carried him off into the darkness. The weak and small have no rights in this most dreaded of places.
It wasn’t always this mist-enshrouded, wind-swept graveyard; many years ago the cemetery was a pastoral spot surrounded by blossoming trees and shrubs. It was lovely and visitors would come by frequently to pay their respects and linger for a while on a nearby bench.
High on a hill above the cemetery stood the Olde Dutch Church. The property was expansive with an outstanding view of the Hudson River. The focal point of the church was the belfry with its majestic wrought iron weather vane that could be seen for miles.
One parched and squally night in late October while parishioners were awaiting services for the feast of All Hallows’ Eve, a giant thunderclap boomed, followed by an enormous lightning bolt which struck the weather vane. The glowing gas particles coursed their way down to the belfry, instantly setting it on fire. Within moments the entire church was engulfed in flames, imprisoning all inside. Horrified townsfolk who were still outside tried valiantly to save their friends, to no avail. The church had become an inferno.
The wind blew sparks into the cemetery, setting the wizened trees ablaze. The smoke was black, the air thick with an acrid stench. Those outside the church fell to their knees crying pitifully, covering their ears to block out the agonizing screams of the tortured. Finally, after what seemed an eternity in Gehenna, the screams became pathetic whimpers, then stopped completely and an eerie silence followed.
Just then what was left of the church came crashing down, leaving nothing but a mountain of ashes and the grotesque, twisted remains of the once glorious weather vane.
Forty-seven souls perished that ghastly night. Nothing that resembled a body was found, nothing was left to be buried and the church was never rebuilt. Eventually people stopped coming to the cemetery. The only denizens there now are the unremembered interred along with the owls, the crows, the blind field mice and forty-seven specters seeking final rest.
The haunted wind is eerily unsettling this Halloween night, my friends …. or is it the wind?
During the late 1960s and early 1970s a new musical genre was developed. It kicked in the door of the music world and turned into a phenomenon that is still going strong some 50 years later. There are no obvious signs of it slowing down any time soon. In case you didn’t get the hint from my new header image, I’m talking about heavy metal!
Can I play with madness? I think after today you will have to agree that I definitely can.
Say “hello” to my little friend. This is Eddie, the official mascot for our next group. Eddie is a perennial fixture of the group’s artwork, appearing on all their album covers and merchandise, which includes T-shirts, posters and action figures. Eddie, AKA Eddie the Head, made his debut February 8, 1980. Eddie says “Happy Halloween!! You want a trick or a treat??” ☠️
Welcome back, my brave friends, to the final installment of In The Groove: Metal Madness! Let me see a show of hands; how many of you have stayed with me all month? Ah, I see quite a few metal heads out there! Excellent!
Now I’m sure you’ve been asking yourself all week “I wonder what Nancy has up her Sicilian sleeve for today? Who could she possibly have in mind for the final day of Metal Madness?”
That, my lovely metal heads, is an excellent question and I took my responsibility to you very seriously. I promise, no Sicilian Curveballs will be thrown today. There’s only one metal group I can think of who deserves to be included in this final countdown (that was not a clue) and that group is
English heavy metal band Iron Maiden was formed in Leyton, East London, on Christmas Day in 1975 by bassist and primary songwriter Steve Harris. Although fluid in the early years of the band, the line-up for most of the band’s history has consisted of Harris, lead vocalist Bruce Dickinson, drummer Nicko McBrain and guitarists Dave Murray, Adrian Smith and Janick Gers.
As pioneers of the new wave of British heavy metal, Iron Maiden released a series of UK and US Platinum and Gold albums, including 1980’s debut album, 1981’s Killers and 1982’s The Number of the Beast – its first album with Bruce Dickinson as lead vocalist (replacing Paul Di’Anno). The addition of Dickinson was a turning point in their career, establishing them as one of heavy metal’s most important bands. The Number of the Beast is among the most popular heavy metal albums of all time, having sold more than 20 million copies worldwide.
Iron Maiden is an institution. Over the course of 48 years they have come to embody a spirit of fearless creative independence, ferocious dedication to their fans, and a cheerful indifference to their critics that’s won them a following that spans every culture, generation, and time-zone. A story of gritty determination and courageous defiance of the naysayers, theirs has been an adventure like no other. Every one of their songs is a story and that for me, as a storyteller, is one of the key ingredients to their success. They are unique and different from every other heavy metal band with song lyrics covering such topics as history, literature, war, mythology, society and religion.
Iron Maiden has released 41 albums, including 17 studio albums, 13 live albums, four EPs and seven compilations. They have also released 47 singles and 20 video albums, and two video games. The band has played some 2,500 live shows and is still touring today. Iron Maiden has become one of the most influential and revered rock bands of all time.
On the evening of October 2, 1982, Bill and I hired a babysitter for our boys and drove into Manhattan for one of our final rock concerts. It had been a while. Now that we had kids, who knew when we would be able to have this experience again. We were all grown up with a different set of priorities but this was one event we could not miss. Performing that night at Madison Square Garden were two British groups Bill and I didn’t have a chance to see B.K. (Before Kids).
The concert tour was called Beast On the Road and the two groups were Judas Priest (remember them from last week?) and Iron Maiden. It was incredible and this is how it went down:
Here now are some classic Iron Maiden tunes. As I’ve been saying since week one, listen to one or listen to them all – it’s totally your call here In The Groove.
You might want to settle in and get comfy for this last one; it’s a bit lengthy. It’s my personal favorite and it’s called “Rime of the Ancient Mariner” based on the poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge written in 1834. If you’re unfamiliar with the poem, I hope you’ll read it some time. Here is a link: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43997/the-rime-of-the-ancient-mariner-text-of-1834
That’s the way it is with heavy metal and groups like Iron Maiden; you can’t stop at just one!
Farewell to October and to a month of Metal Madness. I can’t tell you how much this site means to me; it’s a labor of love and each week I try to leave a little piece of myself on the page. It’s hard work coming up with something new and exciting week after week; I love it and I hope that love shows in what I do.
Thanks for hanging with me; you’re one of the reasons I do these posts. The other reason is me; I do this because it brings me joy. And what better reason could I possibly have?
The month-long heavy metal party is over, kids, and you have shown that you can indeed play with madness! 🤘🏽
Join me next Tuesday for a new month and the start of something completely different.
“Are you coming or not?” Carl demanded as he took a few steps further into the haunted house at the Springwood Halloween Fair.
Sharon stood there fiddling with the drawstring of her hoodie. She chewed on her bottom lip, her eyes wide and brimming with tears.
“I’m really scared of these places, Carl. I mean, they terrify me. I don’t want to do this.” And the tears came.
This was nothing new to Carl; Sharon hid behind her hands when she tried to watch “The Walking Dead” with him in the comfort of their own living room. He rolled his eyes, tired of Sharon’s childish fears of creatures that don’t exist.
“Look, babe, as I told you a dozen times already, everybody knows this is the best haunted house in the county” Carl replied in his usual condescending tone. “My friends at work said it was awesome and even Hal brought is girlfriend Darleen who’s afraid of her own shadow and she thought it was fabulous. I promise, it’s gonna be a blast.”
Sharon could hear screams coming from insidethe haunted house but everyone came out laughing and quickly lined up to go in again.
“OK, I’ll do it but you have to promise to take me to see the Taylor Swift concert on the big IMAX screen next week.”
Carl happily agreed knowing there was no wayin hell he was going to sit through a Taylor Swift concert. Laughing, he grabbed Sharon’shand and pulled her into the haunted house.
“Don’t let go of my hand, Carl!” Sharon cried out.
“Sharon, just chill out. Why can’t you get it through your head that it’s all fake, it’s just for show and none of these characters are real? I promise I won’t let go of your hand. Now stop being a drama queen and try to have some harmless fun, ok?” Carl could really be a nasty SOB.
The inside of the haunted house was complete sensory overload; there was constant screaming as zombies, vampires, witches, skeletons, ghosts and hideous slasher movie characters jumped out of doorways, flew into windows, dropped down from the ceiling and popped up through the floor.
The place was madness and Sharon was getting claustrophobic. The only thing that kept her from running out in a panic was the familiar feel of Carl’s hand in hers. She couldn’t see an inch in front of her and there was something popping out at every turn. It was horrifying for Sharon.
Before Sharon knew what was happening, the grotesque image of Freddy Krueger suddenly appeared from behind a wall of smoke and menacingly brandished his deadly bladed glove; Sharon couldn’t take it any longer. She screamed out for Carl and pushed her way through the crowd, grateful that he was still with her.
Once outside, Sharon gulped in the fresh air and blasted Carl. “That was the worst experience of my life! It was terrifying and you tricked me. How could you?? I’m not kidding, Carl. I’m really pissed! Carl!! Are you even listening to me, dammit?”
And when Sharon turned to face Carl, she discovered she had been holding on to his severed arm. The next morning Carl’s body was found in the woods behind the haunted house. He had been sliced to pieces. They say karma’s a bitch.
At least Carl was true to Sharon about one thing that night; he never let go of her hand.
Jim Adams at ‘Thursday Inspiration‘ has asked us to respond to his challenge regarding songs dealing with the word “delight”. This is my response to that challenge.
“Dixieland Delight” is a 1983 song written by Ronnie Rogers and recorded by the American country music band Alabama. It was released in January 1983 as the lead-off single from their album, “The Closer I Get…”.
The song reached No. 1 on the BillboardHot Country Songs list. After its release, the song became a college football tradition within the Southeastern Conferrence, most notably within the Alabama Crimson Tide football and Tennessee Volunteer football fan bases.
The song’s title refers to the girlfriend of the singer. The bottom line is that during their weekend outing, he plans to get it on with his sweet little “Dixieland Delight” in his truck in a meadow (“Home-grown country girl, gonna give me a whirl“).
Lyrics Rollin’ down a Backwoods, Tennessee byway One arm on the wheel Holdin’ my lover with the other A sweet, soft, southern thrill Worked hard all week, got a little jingle On a Tennessee Saturday night Couldn’t feel better, I’m together With my Dixieland delight
Spend my dollar Parked in a holler ‘neath the mountain moonlight Hold her uptight, make a little lovin’ A little turtle dovin’ on a Mason-Dixon night Fits my life, oh, so right My Dixieland delight
White-tail buck deer munchin’ on clover Red-tail hawk sittin’ on a limb Chubby old groundhog, croakin’ bullfrog Free as the feelin’ in the wind Home-grown country girl gonna give me a whirl On a Tennessee Saturday night Lucky as a seven, livin’ in Heaven With my Dixieland delight
Spend my dollar Parked in a holler ‘neath the mountain moonlight Hold her uptight, make a little lovin’ A little turtle dovin’ on a Mason-Dixon night Fits my life, oh, so right My Dixieland delight
Spend my dollar Parked in a holler ‘neath the mountain moonlight Hold her uptight, make a little lovin’ A little turtle dovin’ on a Mason-Dixon night Fits my life, oh, so right My Dixieland delight
Rollin’ down a backwoods, Tennessee byway One arm on the wheel Holdin’ my lover with the other A sweet, soft, southern thrill Worked hard all week, got a little jingle On a Tennessee Saturday night Couldn’t feel better, I’m together With my Dixieland delight
It was Devinia Diamond, Doctor of Pharmacology and loathed next door neighbor. I’m sure she’s the one who poisoned the seed in my bird feeders. And I know why she did it, too. It’s because I mowed over her damn ivy vines that constantly spread into my yard, strangling the life out of my trees and latching themselves onto my lawn. I had every right to do so and I personally never stepped foot onto her property – only my lawn mower – yet she sought her revenge by killing the beautiful birds who visit my numerous feeders. All because Devinia Diamond is just plain evil, consumed with revenge and more than a bit demented.
We’ve had arguments for years now, mostly because she refuses to honor our property boundary lines. She constantly complains about my dog, Roscoe – a lazy old bloodhound who barely barks and never wanders off – but Devinia calls him a “vile creature”. If anyone on this earth is vile it’s her!
But this – the poisoning of my beautiful birds – was senseless and I’m not going to let her get away with it! She thinks she’s so slick. Well, we’ll see about that, Devinia! Yes we will!
Now, dear readers, put yourselves in my shoes as I stood inside the post office collecting my mail and I overheard the news that Devinia’s garage had all but burned down during the night! What’s that they’re saying? Spontaneous combustion! Of course, I had to act surprised; I bit my tongue to keep from laughing out loud. Earlier this morning I had heard the long-anticipated sirens of the firetrucks arriving at Devinia’s and I was as giddy as a schoolgirl!
The next morning I called for Roscoe. “Here, boy! Breakfast!” He didn’t come lumbering to the kitchen door which is unusual; Roscoe never misses a meal. He was probably snoozing under his favorite weeping willow tree. He loves his naps even more than food. I went out to look for Roscoe and did indeed find him under the tree, but he wasn’t sleeping; the poor old guy was dead. Not a single noticeable mark on his body. One would think he died of old age but I knew better. My buddy Roscoe – never sick a day in his life and now he’s dead – or should I say murdered? And by that lunatic Devinia, I’m sure of it. She hated Roscoe just like she hates everyone and everything. This has gone too far and she’s got to be stopped. That week I didn’t sleep well thinking about poor Roscoe and that she-devil, Devinia.
My goodness! What’s this I see? It’s none other than Devinia walking up her front path and she’s using a cane. “Why, Devinia! What happened to you?” I ask, my voice dripping with syrupy insincerity. “A loose step in the staircase leading to your basement, you say? You’re lucky you didn’t break your neck!” Too bad the cut made by my saw wasn’t deep enough. Next time I’ll make sure the job is done right!
If she knows what’s good for her, Devinia will stay away from me and keep off my property. She’s killed off all the birds and my sweet boy, Roscoe; now it’s just me and my wife, Ellen. Devinia’s presence is unwanted. Her very existence sickens me.
When Ellen announced she was going to be busy over the weekend with the church yard sale, I decided to drive to our lake house to do some fishing and get away from Devinia for a couple of days. My first night at the lake, I got a call …. the most horrible news imaginable. Ellen was dead! Apparently, she never showed up at the yard sale and wasn’t answering her phone. Ellen’s friends went to our house to check on her; they found her slumped over her desk, dead from an apparent heart attack. Ellen took great care of herself; she was the picture of health. Just like poor old Roscoe, there wasn’t a trace of foul play – no obvious marks, no detectable poison. But I knew. Only a maniac like Devinia was capable of this. She killed my wife and I’m going to get my revenge if it’s the last thing I do.
Now I ask you, dear readers – who says revenge isn’t sweet? I watched the whole thing unfold from behind my bedroom curtain. Devinia getting into her car, turning the key and then BAM! BAM!!BAM!!!Devinia blown to kingdom come! She had no idea I was a demolitions expert in my army days. This was by far my greatest detonation death dance! No one could prove it was me who did this, just like no one could prove Devinia killed Ellen.
This calls for a celebration, a toast to my deeply despised and not-so-dearly departed nemesis, the demented Doctor Devinia Diamond. I think that $700 bottle of Opus One Napa Valley cabernet sauvignon will fit the bill nicely.
I remove the cork and take a whiff. Ah, so savory! Now for a sip. So smooth and easy going down. Exquisite as the most delicious taste of revenge! Finally I can relax.
But wait. What’s happening to me? My throat and chest are burning!I claw frantically at my shirt collar, ripping off my tie. No! This is not possible!! Always one step ahead, Devinia must have poisoned my wine collection!! I made a foolish mistake and underestimated just how diabolical she could be.
Today we have a treat for you: Keith is back in the house!
Keith Allen, AKA The Nostalgic Italian, has written another guest post which we’re sure you’ll find interesting and entertaining. It’s guaranteed to brighten up your end-of-October Sunday! Today Keith is talking about songs that evoke certain memories …. something we can all relate to …. and he’s picked a beauty for us.
OK, enough talking by me; I’m going to hand the reins over to Keith for another edition of Be Our Guest. Take it away, Keith!
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Thank you, Nancy, for allowing me to share another song on The Rhythm Section: Be Our Guest. I’m sure that you would agree there are certain songs that transport you to a specific time in your life and bring about many memories. That is why I chose this particular song.
Today’s tune is another one that you have probably never heard before. It’s from a 1991 album that got bad reviews from the critics. That’s the thing about music – we each have our own tastes and not everyone is going to agree on what’s “good” or what’s “bad”. I happen to really like this album and play it often in the car. Here’s the story of how I discovered it; I hope you’ll find it interesting and different.
Ludington
In 1991, I had broken up with a girl I had been dating for three years. I was working part-time in radio at the time. An old radio buddy called me with a full-time opening for an afternoon shift and wanted to know if I would be interested. Since the relationship with my girlfriend was over, I decided maybe it was time to move. I took the job and moved to the west side of Michigan. It didn’t really pay well but it was a full-time job. It was April of 1991 and here I was in Ludington, MI …. about to settle down in unknown territory.
As a 20 year old guy who had never been away from home, it was a bit scary. I won’t lie to you; my first night away I heard every noise inside and outside my apartment! I really hated being away from my friends and family. I knew a few of the people at the station but that was the extent of it.
I worked from noon till 8:00 PM; my on-air shift was 2:00-7:00 PM. I ran a satellite show until 8:00 PM and was relieved by someone who came in to keep the station on the air until midnight. I lived about 10-15 minutes from work and when I got home, I just watch TV. I’m sure the internet was around at the time but I didn’t have a computer (if I did, it would have been dial up!!).
I only had three or four stations because I couldn’t afford cable TV at the time. It was during this time that I began watching a lot of Johnny Carson and David Letterman and gained an appreciation for late-night TV. One night Carson had Pat Benatar on as a musical guest. I was familiar with her music as it was a big part of my childhood. “Love is a Battlefield” “We Belong” and “Hit Me With Your Best Shot” were huge hits in the 80s. When Johnny introduced her, I was waiting for some kind of rock guitar lick …. but it never came.
The song opened with a very bluesy bass line and I was completely thrown for a loop. Pat’s vocal was sultry, smooth and sexy! I was totally digging this song! It was a HUGE departure from what she was known for. Word is that she had always wanted to do a “jump blues” album and this was it. The album featured some covers (BB King and Wynonie Harris) as well as originals. The song “True Love” was an original. (Jump blues is a style of blues that emerged in the late 1930s from the cross-pollination of blues, particularly Boogie Woogie, and jazz styles popular at the time, such as Swing and Big Band.)
Remember when folks got all excited about Amy Winehouse and Lady Gaga singing jazz with Tony Bennett? Both were out of their comfort zone and singing a genre that seemed odd for them, yet they both knocked their vocals out of the park! To me, that is exactly what Pat Benatar does with this album and the title track. It is one of those songs I can listen to over and over again. I just love her vocal and the arrangement. Give it a listen –
So, what did you think? Hope you love the song as much as I do!
Thanks again to you, Nancy, and the team at The Rhythm Section for having me guest post. And thanks to YOU, the readers, for tuning in, reading and listening!
Thanks, Keith! It’s always great to have you join us. What a terrific story and song you shared today!
Now, I hope you’ll indulge me as I reminisce for a moment or two. I’m going back just a few years to the early 1970s when Pat Benatar performed at an amateur night at the comedy club Catch a Rising Star in New York. If you’ve ever been to any of these places you know the crowd can be brutal. I happened to be there that night with friends when Pat Benatar walked out on the stage and began singing the standard “Someone to Watch Over Me”. That moment was like something you see in a movie; everyone from the busboys to the celebrities in the audience stopped what they were doing and the whole place fell silent at the sound of Pat’s voice. The crowd loved her but it was her rendition of Judy Garland’s “Rock-a-Bye Your BabyWith a Dixie Melody” that earned her a call back by club owner Rick Newman, who became her manager. True story and it was Keith’s post today that jogged my memory.
Our friend Jim Adams over at “Song Lyric Sunday”has given us a new challenge. This week the theme is to find a song by an artist or group that has a color in their name.
My choice is a song I found visually interesting and musically appealing right off the bat. It’s unusual (in a good way) and bold and still delivers a great song with an intriguing spy story video attached.
My song of choice today is “Twilight Zone” by Golden Earring.
The Dutch band Golden Earring had a hit in 1982 with their song “Twilight Zone”. It was written by the band’s guitarist George Kooymans who drew inspiration from the book, “The Bourne Identity”. The song spent 27 weeks on the US Pop charts and was the group’s sole Top 10 Pop single on the US Billboard Hot 100. It hit No. 1 on the Billboard Top Album Tracks chart, the band’s only No. 1 hit single in the US. Lead vocals are divided between Kooymans and Golden Earring frontman, Barry Hay
The music video was one of the first to feature a cinematic storyline and dance choreography and was a hit on the fledgling MTV network. Golden Earring followed their success on MTV with an extensive tour of the US, Canada and Europe. MTV commissioned the band to shoot a movie of the final “homecoming” concert of the tour in the Netherlands. The concert was released in 1984 as “Live from The Twilight Zone” along with an album of the concert titled “Something Heavy Going Down: Live From the Twilight Zone”. It aired on MTV and was published as a video on VHS, Beta and Laserdisc.
Golden Earring’s ”Cut” album cover image of the Jack of diamonds playing card being shredded by a bullet is used in the video and represents the life of a rogue secret agent.
Thanks for another great challenge today, Jim! Always fun!
Now here’s the video of Golden Earring’s “Twilight Zone”.
LYRICS
Somewhere in a lonely hotel room there’s a guy Starting to realize that eternal fate has turned its back on him It’s two A.M.
It’s two A.M. (It’s two A.M.) Fear is gone (fear is gone) I’m sitting here waiting The Gun still warm (the gun still warm) Maybe my connection is tired of taking chances
Yeah, there’s a storm on the loose Sirens in my head Wrapped up in silence, all circuits are dead Cannot decode, my whole life spins into a frenzy
Help, I’m steppin’ into the twilight zone Place is a madhouse, feels like being cold My beacon’s been moved under moon and star Where am I to go now that I’ve gone too far? (Oh oh oh)
Help, I’m steppin’ into the twilight zone Place is a madhouse, feels like being alone My beacon’s been moved under moon and star Where am I to go now that I’ve gone too far?
So you will come to know When the bullet hits the bone So you will come to know When the bullet hits the bone
I’m fallin’ down a spiral, destination unknown Double crossed messenger, all alone Can’t get no connection, can’t get through Where are you?
Well the night weighs heavy on his guilty mind This far from the borderline When the hitman comes He knows damn well he has been cheated
And he says Help, I’m steppin’ into the twilight zone Place is a madhouse, feels like being cold My beacon’s been moved under moon and star Where am I to go now that I’ve gone too far? (Oh oh oh)
Help, I’m steppin’ into the twilight zone Place is a madhouse, feels like being alone My beacon’s been moved under moon and star Where am I to go now that I’ve gone too far?
So you will come to know When the bullet hits the bone So you will come to know When the bullet hits the bone When the bullet hits the bone
Help, I’m steppin’ into the twilight zone Place is a madhouse, feels like being cold My beacon’s been moved under moon and star Where am I to go now that I’ve gone too far? (Oh oh oh)
Help, I’m steppin’ into the twilight zone Place is a madhouse, feels like being alone My beacon’s been moved under moon and star Where am I to go now that I’ve gone too far?
So you will come to know When the bullet hits the bone So you will come to know When the bullet hits the bone So you will come to know When the bullet hits the bone So you will come to know When the bullet hits the bone When the bullet hits the bone When the bullet hits the bone When the bullet hits the bone When the bullet hits the bone When the bullet hits the bone When the bullet hits the bone When the bullet hits the bone When the bullet hits the bone
How could this have happened to me …. a savvy, street-smart, strong- willed woman of the 21st Century who has seen and done it all?
Oh sure, I heard the warnings from well-meaning friends. I chose not to put much stock in what they said. After all, this is my life …. not theirs.
I’ve been hurt very badly twice in my life …. once about 14 years ago when I gave my entire heart and soul completely only to have my world crumble about me. God only knows how much I wanted that piece of my life to work. Strange how I’m still holding on to those broken pieces.
The second time was about three years ago. It was love at first sight, as cliched as that sounds, and I fell hard. I was left in shambles and have now come to the realization that if something is meant to be, it will be. It will pass the trials and tribulations of life without having to work so hard at making all the pieces fit. What’s that old saying? You can’t put a square peg into a round hole? That should be printed in giant red letters on all the owner’s manuals we collect in our lifetimes.
Well, I’m at it again. I tried to resist the charm and allure but I’m weak and the pulling forces are strong. I’m aware of the FRAGILE signs and I will be vigilant. I simply cannot resist that table.
Did you ever get the feeling you were being watched?
The forecast for snow turned out to be highly exaggerated as there was barely a coating; much had already melted away.
I’d hiked these woods many times; I was comfortable here and felt safe among the deer and wild birds. Today was different; I couldn’t shake that feeling of being watched.
I scanned the area and that’s when I saw him. You’ll see him, too. Look in the upper left section of the photo. There, hiding behind the grey rock is the face of Edgar Allan Poe.
Dear Diary: There’s a new boy in school named Carter. He’s so cool. He’s half black …. his skin is the color of milk chocolate and he’s got amazing green eyes. I dig him. If my parents find out, I’m dead! They’re so prejudiced!
Friday, 10/27/1961
Dear Diary: Great news! Carter is now my Biology partner! I know he’s into me. He winks whenever he sees me. My friends giggle; they’re so childish. Really! We’re 15. The black girls are giving me dirty looks. Beverly bumped me hard when she walked by. Carter likes me! He’s so hot!
Monday, 10/30/1961
Dear Diary: We were sitting real close in class, sharing the microscope. Carter’s arm brushed against my boob. I liked it. I leaned in closer and placed my hand on his leg. Then the bell rang! Carter whispered “Give me your phone number”. I scribbled it down and he winked at me.
Tuesday, 10/31/1961
Dear Diary: Teacher’s Conference Day. No school and my parents are at work. The ringing phone woke me. I was stunned to hear Carter’s voice: “Pretty Lily White. I’m bored. Come to my place. We’ll listen to music.” I said “Okay“, and got his address. I walked the three blocks to his house. The radio was playing Motown and we started dancing. He gave me a drink …. Scotch, I think …. and he laughed when I coughed. He took my glass and kissed me. I’d never been kissed like that before. We were drinking, smoking and dancing. I must have passed out. I only remember bits and pieces. I woke up in Carter’s bed. The Miracles singing “Ooh, Baby, Baby”. Carter’s friends Warren and Kevin appeared in a cloud over my head; I have no memory of them being there. What did I do? What did they do? Next thing I know I’m dressed and Carter’s helping me down the stairs, mumbling something about having to “clean up the mess”. He opened the front door and I staggered out, the cool air clearing my head a bit. I smelled like smoke, Scotch and sex. Somehow I made it home, showered and crawled into bed. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.
Wednesday, 11/1 – Friday 11/3/1961
Dear Diary: Faked bad period cramps. Skipped school and missed the Halloween dance tonight. I just couldn’t face anyone..
Monday, 11/3/1961
Dear Diary: This morning at school I saw Carter walking with his arm around Beverly. He winked at me as we passed and Beverly bumped me hard. Carter’s friends laughed. I’m sure they all know what happened. I could just die.
It’s all new Birthday Thursdays at The Rhythm Section. No talk, no fuss, no muss. Just wall-to-wall music! Stop by and check it out! 🎂 https://rhythmsection.blog/
Welcome to Birthday Thursdays here in The Rhythm Section. Each week I will feature someone from the world of music whose birthday falls on that day. There won’t be any chit chat from me, no facts and figures – just some great tunes (and an occasional surprise). Check it out right here every Thursday and enjoy the music.
Happy Birthday to Keith Urban Born October 26, 1967 – Whangārei, New Zealand
I’m writing this letter to you, Mother, knowing it will never be sent; you’re gone now so there is no one to send it to but still, some words needed to be said.
We scattered your ashes by that old tree that stands alone in a barren field, the tree you always compared yourself to whenever we drove by; how many times did I have to hear you make a comment about that damn tree?
It was rough growing up thinking I was unloved by you and there were times I hated you for that; for years I thought it was something I had done but now realize it was something you couldn’t do – let your guard down and your emotions out and show me a mother’s love.
My teen years were the turning point for me because I got out of the house and freed myself of the strange power you had over me; how I resented you and your aloofness …. so many years wasted …. and now as I look back, I feel sorry for you because you chose to keep yourself deeply rooted behind the walls you built.
I remember once overhearing a fight you had with Dad, an argument about how it was – as you put it – ‘unmanly’ of him to dote over me; that was the only time I saw Dad get angry, shouting at you that he had to shower me with the love of two parents because you were unable or unwilling to express your love.
Well, Mother, I’m happy to say I have a warm and loving family, I’m nothing like you and I will not spend my life wondering how things could have been different if you had torn down those walls you hid behind; now you’re gone, your ashes cast into the wind, and I will be the one who will rest peacefully.
As soon as Briana Jeffries woke up she knew her AC had broken down. Her townhouse was like a sauna. She called the landlord to report the malfunction, then got ready for work. Stepping outside, she was enveloped in a cloud of oppressive heat.
Briana’s townhouse didn’t have a garage – only street parking was available. Slipping off her suit jacket, she adjusted her shoulder bag and began walking to her car. With every step she took, a bead of sweat rippled down her neck and back until her blouse clung to her drenched body. She cursed her high heels and pantyhose but the real estate agency where she worked demanded appropriate attire at all times.
“I really should switch to McConnell Realty. They’re much more relaxed than Dalton & Banks” she thought as she got into her car and switched on the AC. Sure, the commission she earned was great but she wasn’t truly happy. And dealing with that smarmy, perpetually tanned Joe del Vecchio was nauseating.
First on the agenda was the Monday meeting, then Briana’s client at 10:30. With five houses to show, it was going to be a long day. As soon as she entered the office, Joe was all over her. “Looking hot, Briana. Nice lipstick. Looks all pouty. I like that. I’m gonna start calling you BJ. Know what that means?” She always hated her initials.
What a dick. The only reason Joe was tolerated at the agency was the older female clients adored him and he could charm the panties off them – and probably did if it meant making a sale. Ignoring him, Briana sat at the mahogany table between two colleagues.
“Attention!” Charlotte Dalton announced. “Wehave a large number of senior citizens today who want to see penthouses. Briana and Joe, I want you working together.” Briana sighed in exasperation, already defeated knowing she’d be with Joe all day. Joe grinned and winked across the big conference table, chewing on his pen.
“What a Neanderthal” Briana thought.
By day’s end Briana was sick of Joe and couldn’t wait to be rid of him but he insisted on walking her to her car. “Let’s get a drink, moisten that luscious BJ mouth.” Involuntarily Briana licked her lips; Joe leaned in for a kiss as Briana slid into her car.
“Stop it, Joe! I just want to go home, take a shower and go to bed.” She immediately regretted her choice of words. Joe bent down and whispered in Briana’s ear. “You read my mind, baby. How’s about we have us a little party?” His fingers played with the delicate chain that dangled between Briana’s breasts. She pushed his hand away and drove off, nearly knocking him off his feet. It was at that moment Briana decided that was her last day at Dalton & Banks.
Arriving back at home, Briana was grateful to find the AC working and the house delightfully cool. Closing the door behind her, she kicked off her shoes, peeled off her damp clothes and headed for the bathroom. Briana slid open the glass door and stepped into the shower. The warm water was so relaxing. She turned around so the water could run down her back. Briana felt the stress leaving her neck and shoulders and she sighed contentedly. “Ah, this is heaven.”
Funny how your mind plays tricks on you sometimes. Eyes closed, Briana thought she heard a noise outside the bathroom. She stood still, listening; nothing. Reaching for the shampoo, Brianna thought she heard a noise again. She listened intently; this time she was sure. SOMEONE WAS IN HER HOUSE!!
Instinct kicked in and Briana lunged from the shower to lock the bathroom door just as Joe del Vecchio burst in, knocking her backwards into the shower. Briana’s head slammed into the tiles; blood tricked down her face and into her eyes. As she began to lose consciousness, she slid down the shower wall and barely made out the image of Joe running from her bathroom. She fell face down onto the shower floor, blood swirling down the drain. Clutched in her hand was Joe’s monogrammed pocket square.
Briana was right. That was her last day at Dalton & Banks.
