Author: Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Daughter of Sicilian immigrants, wife, mother, grammy, friend, empath, survivor, dreamer, storyteller, humorist, singer, musician, author, blogger, wannabe-poet, plant rescuer, cook, lover of good wine, food, iced cappuccino, elephants, the sea, Montauk, Sicily, movies and music, especially my beloved Beatles. ♡✒️♬
Fifties, Name That Tune

NAME THAT TUNE (July 2, 2023)

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Happy Sunday and welcome back to another installment of Name That Tune.

I hope you’re ready for some fun and a bit of a challenge today! This one might be a little more difficult so get out those thinking caps.

Misky, my money’s on you today; “five’ll get ya ten” it’ll be a shoe-in for you [HINT HINT].

Without further ado, here are your clues:

  1. Today’s song came from a 1928 German “play with music“, lyrics by Bertolt Brecht and music by Jurt Weill. That musical play was based on an 18th-century English ballad opera by John Gay called “The Beggar’s Opera”.
  2. The singer of today’s tune was born in 1936 in New York City, his birth name being Walden Robert Cassotto. In 1959 at the age of 22, he made his first big “splash” in the music world by recording our featured piece which became a million-selling single.
  3. Today’s tune about a blade-wielding criminal of the London underworld was performed by numerous artists; however, according to Frank Sinatra, our featured artist recorded the “definitive version”.
  4. Today’s performer was extremely versatile; in addition to singing, he was a songwriter, a dancer, an accomplished musician on various instruments, a music arranger/conductor and an actor. As a child he had recurring bouts with rheumatic fever which left him with a seriously weakened heart. Sadly, we lost this giant of the music industry in 1973; he was only 37 years old.
  5. This song, easily recognizable by its 8 beat intro, is our featured artist’s signature piece. It was inducted by the Library of Congress in the National Recording Registry. It was also ranked as No. 15 in the list of Songs of the Century by the Recording Industry of America and the National Endowment of the Arts. No small potatoes.

Those are some impressive credentials and I could not gloss over them. It doesn’t matter when you were born; this is one of those songs that transcends generations and will live on long after we’re gone.

Do you have any ideas? Let’s see who got this brain teaser today. Scroll down for the big reveal.

The video is about to start and I can’t wait to see it again; it’s one of my favorites!

Our very famous performer is the one and only Bobby Darin doing his signature piece, “Mack The Knife”.

Let’s listen, shall we?

What an amazing talent he was! His gestures and arm movements aren’t just for show; he’s actually leading the orchestra during this performance, something he did many times.

Here’s a little factoid I did not include in the questions: Bobby Darin was an adult when he found out the woman he thought was his sister was actually his mother, an embarrassing fact his family thought best to keep from him. This is not as bizarre as it sounds; some other victims of the same ruse are Liv Tyler, Eric Clapton and Jack Nicholson.

Well, that does it for today. Join us next time for another installment of Name That Tune. Have a great day!

I’m The Sicilian Storyteller

NAR © 2023

Uncategorized

JULY

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Did you ever lie on you back
on warm July grass and
watch the clouds change
from one glorious design
to another,
sun rays streaking through
like beams from heaven
while a hint of a rainbow appears
and you whisper in wonderstruck tones
“This is so ineffably awesome”?

Yeah, me too.

NAR © 2023
51 words

Weekend Writing Prompt #318 – Design
Uncategorized

ANDIAMO!

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬
©Ayr/Gray

I was jogging one evening with my two yellow labs. It had been quite a while since we’d been out; I’d locked myself away after the death of my beloved black lab Duke, only going out when necessary. 

But that evening I realized how my melancholy had affected my girls. We started out slowly, three sad sacks moseying down the road. Being outside began to invigorate us and we picked up our pace.  

Maneuvering the roundabout, I noticed a Cadillac parked outside a warehouse. As we jogged by, the driver yelled out “Yo, pal! Looks like you lost your dog.” 

His words caught me off guard and I stopped. The burly driver pointed to the leash I had tied around my waist – Duke’s leash – for old time’s sake. 

“Oh, this” I replied. Before I realized it, I told this total stranger all about Duke. 

To my disbelief, this hulking goon started blubbering like a baby, telling me about his dog that died when he was a kid. Just then the warehouse door opened and a couple of intimidating men emerged followed by a short squatty guy chomping on a cigar and sporting a lousy toupee.

“Mama mia, Bruno, it’s been thirty years since Spot died. Enough’s enough. Now say bye bye to the nice doggies and get in the car.”

That’s when I spotted the lustrous black lab in the front seat. My heart skipped a beat. 

“Papa’s here, Leonardo” said the man with the cigar. “Andiamo, Bruno! Let’s go home.” 

NAR © 2023

The Unicorn Challenge – 30/06/23
Uncategorized

A COLD CASE

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Word on the street was Louie “No Nose” Lombardo was sprung from the slammer. He must have sung like a canary whistling a sweet ballad to earn his “get out of jail free” card.

His early release spelled big trouble; not only was Louie seeking revenge for his disfigurement and incarceration, he got wind that his sworn enemy Tony “The Cutter” Tedesco had been sniffing around his wife while he was doing time. Yeah, that rat bastard Tony gave new meaning to the term “double-cross”.

Louie and Tony weren’t always enemies. In fact, when they were kids they were inseparable, like brothers. They would ride their bikes down to the empty lot where they’d scrounge around for discarded cigarette butts with just enough life left for a couple of drags. They played stickball in the street with a broom handle and a Spaldeen. During the summer they’d jump on the rear bumper of a bus or truck and snag a free ride to Orchard Beach, laughing and holding on for dear life. When they got close, they’d jump off and sneak onto the beach through an opening in the fence. 

Tony’s father, Tommaso Tedesco, was the mob mortician for Tedesco Brothers Funeral Home and you better believe he knew where the bodies were buried. He wasn’t called “The Undertaker” for nothing. Sometimes Tony and Louie would sneak in after a wake to check the big sofa cushions for loose change. 

One day around Christmas Louie got nabbed in Woolworth’s Five and Dime trying to shoplift an angel ornament for his mother. When the store manager realized Louie’s father was the owner of Luca’s Ristorante, a well-known mob hangout, he looked the other way. He let Louie keep the ornament saying “He didn’t want any trouble”. He even gave Louie a paper bag filled with Christmas candy.

Louie’s father Luca Lombardo was the finest chef of authentic Italian food in the entire tri-state area and was held in high regard by the members of La Cosa Nostra. Luca knew what side his bread was buttered on; he kept the restaurant open late for syndicate bosses like Rocco “The Rocket” Randazzo. He and his soldiers were welcome at Luca’s any day, any time. It was a discreet, safe place and the police looked the other way.

For the first 19 years of their lives nothing or no one could come between Louie and Tony – that is until Rocco brought his  daughter Rosanna to Luca’s restaurant. Rosanna could render even the toughest wise guy powerless. She was a vixen with long chestnut hair, flawless bronze skin, smoky green eyes and a body that could melt the mozzarella right off your pizza. 

Rosanna was a real tease and Tony and Louie fell hard. She hooked up with both, enjoying the game of pitting them against each other, watching their animosity grow like angry dogs fighting over a bone. After stringing them along for over a year, Rosanna finally chose Louie.

Rocco gave the couple his blessing along with an extravagant wedding, a lavish honeymoon in Italy, a beautiful house and a bundle of money. Now that Louie was Rosanna’s husband, it wasn’t long before Rocco brought him into the family “business”. Seven months after the wedding, Rosanna had a baby and her jilted lover Tony was invited to the christening party. Louie paraded Rosanna around the room on his arm like a trophy while Rocco proudly displayed his first grandson. And all Tony could think about was whether he was the father of Rosanna’s baby and not her husband Louie.

The cacophony of music, laughter and cheering mixed with the crazy thoughts in his head was getting to Tony big time; he lost it and went ape shit. Tony and Louie started fighting. Pushing and shoving led to punches, then the switchblades came out. Suddenly Tony’s brother Angelo lunged at Rocco and Louie intervened, protecting his father-in-law by fatally stabbing Angelo. Seeing his brother murdered was the final blow for Tony; howling like an animal, he whirled around and sliced off most of Louie’s nose. 

At his trial for Angelo’s stabbing death, Louie was charged with manslaughter and sent up the river to Dannemora. Rocco, indebted to Louie for saving his life, told him to sit tight and he’d take care of everything. “Whatever you want, I’ll make it happen” Rocco pledged. Louie whispered in his ear and Rocco replied “Consider it done.”

Rocco called in some favors, greased a few palms and made the Governor an offer he couldn’t refuse by reminding him of the sex scandal that Rocco made disappear. It all fell into place nicely; Louie was pardoned and released.

Two weeks later Louie was staring at a portrait of Tony next to his closed casket at Tedesco Brothers Funeral Home. The photo of his one-time best friend had to suffice; after being blown to bits by a car bomb, there was nothing left of Tony to look at.  

The police have no leads. 

NAR © 2023
Incorporated the words ballad, double-cross, render, bundle and cacophony.
#gb5ww #gmgblog

Five Word Weekly Challenge (2326)

Uncategorized

I DIG LOVE

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬
PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

 

🪴 “Alone at last, lovely Fern.”

🌿 “I thought they’d never leave! Did you bring protection, Ficus?”

🪴 “Baby, I’m a rubber plant. No problemo, señorita!”

🌿 “Oh, I love it when you talk loamy. Plant one on me, lover!”

🌾 “Do you mind? My offshoots are right here!”

🪴 “Oh, bug off, Spidey! Why are you always hanging around?”

🍃 “Spidey’s right!  Why don’t you two get a hothouse already!”

🌿 “Don’t mind him, Ficus. Phil’s jealous of your large, firm leaves.”

🍃 “So much for turning over a new leaf, Fern!”

🌵 “QUIET, EVERYONE! THEY’RE COMING BACK!”

🪴 “Damn! We’re gonna have to nip this in the bud, baby!”

NAR © 2023
100 Words

23 June 2023
Uncategorized

THE LONG WAIT

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Mike, the cabbie, was relieved. He just dropped off his last passenger and was going to pick up his wife, then head home. ‘And not a moment too soon’, he thought as a nor’easter was headed their way. 

Suddenly the wind whipped Mike’s cap off his head and he chased it across the sidewalk and down the steps of an office building. He grabbed his hat, then turning to go back to his cab, he spotted a figure huddled in the corner. Another drunk, no doubt.

“Hey, buddy! Storm’s a-coming. Better get yourself inside!” Mike warned the huddled heap in the corner. Then he heard crying. He inched closer and the dim streetlight revealed an old woman wrapped in a tattered grey coat. 

“Oh, shit! I swear I got the worst luck in the world!” Mike muttered under his breath. Knowing his wife Laura would kill him if he didn’t help the old lady, Mike called out over the wind – “Excuse me. Are you ok?” 

A weak voice replied “Help! I’m lost and scared. Please help me!” 

“Let me take you to the police station” Mike suggested. “They can help you.” 

“No! I need to see my son. Please take me to my son.” 

“Look, lady, I’d like to help you, I really would, but the weather’s getting bad and I gotta pick up my wife.”

The old woman started sobbing and it was too much for Mike. “Okay, I got an idea. What’s your son’s address. If it ain’t too far, I’ll take you; otherwise, it’s the police station.” 

Immediately the lady responded. “Renwick’s. That’s where my son Patrick is.” 

“Your son’s at Renwick’s? Laura – that’s my wife – she works there! C’mon … we don’t wanna keep ’em waiting!” 

“Patrick is very patient. He knows I’ll be there” replied the old lady. 

“Well”, Mike said as he offered the old lady his arm, “my wife ain’t very patient, especially in weather like this, so let’s skedaddle.” Mike noticed the woman was so frail he barely felt her hand on his arm.

The woman clung to a little box which she placed on the back seat next to her. The rain started coming down harder as Mike made his way to Renwick’s. He called Laura to let her know he was on his way and filled her in on what was going on.  The old woman hummed softly in the back seat; the sound was tender and sweet yet melancholy. 

Finally they arrived at Renwick’s. Laura was waiting under the awning but there was no one else there and the store was closed. Mike flashed the headlights and Laura ran to the cab. She turned around to greet the mysterious old lady but the back seat was empty. 

“Well, where is she?” asked Laura in surprise. 

Mike looked into the backseat. “Where’d she go?” he stammered, clearly stunned. “I was here the whole time. No one left this cab!” 

“Wait a second, Mike. What’s this?” Laura reached for a box sitting on the back seat; it was the old lady’s box. “Well, someone was definitely here” Laura remarked, bewildered. On the outside of the box was written ‘Patrick McGuire, Pediatric Unit, Bed #27‘. There was a note inside which read: “For my sweet Patrick. I’m sorry I made you wait so very long, little one. Mama’s coming now.” Inside was a miniature gold lantern with glass panels etched with cherubs.

“OMG Mike! I just remembered. Years ago the department store was once the site of the Renwick Smallpox Hospital. A lot of people died from smallpox, especially babies. So many helpless babies – bless them. This is a sign, Mike. That old lady was working her way back to her long lost baby boy.”

“Laura, I know you really believe in all that angel mumbo jumbo but I think somebody was just looking for a free cab ride. Let’s go home before we get stuck in this weather.“

“Mike, if you don’t believe, why do you have a statue of St. Christopher on the dashboard?” Laura asked.

“Because he’s the patron saint of travelers and the statue just so happened to come with the cab. I was pranked, Laura. Let’s go home. I’m tired and hungry and wanna watch Wheel of Fortune.”

“Ok, Mike. We’re not going to solve anything tonight” Laura agreed and reached over her shoulder for her seat belt. “Mike?” Laura practically whispered her husband’s name. “What color coat was the old lady wearing?”

“It was grey. Why?”

“Look.” Laura’s voice trembled as she pointed in the direction of Renwick’s.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph” Mike gasped, quickly making the sign of the cross.

There, under the awning of Renwick’s stood a woman in a grey coat cradling a baby. She was young and pretty with a peaceful glow about her and although her coat was poor quality, it was clean. She placed the infant in a pram, glanced at Laura and Mike and smiled. Then, pushing the carriage, she disappeared into the night.

Mike and Laura sat in the cab silently clutching each other’s hands. Getting home suddenly didn’t seem quite so urgent.

NAR © 2023

Author’s Note: The Renwick Smallpox Hospital, later known as the Maternity and Charity Hospital Training School, was located on Roosevelt Island in Manhattan, NYC. The hospital was diligent in caring for the infirm; at one given time, it was able to take in 100 patients – many of whom were desolate and/or pregnant immigrants that had arrived through Ellis Island. Sadly, about 450 patients were reported to die annually. Designed by architect James Renwick, Jr., the 100-bed hospital opened in 1856; a century later, it closed its doors.

Let’s have some fun today
At The Movies!
See you there!
https://rhythmsection.blog/

At The Movies, Seventies

AT THE MOVIES (June 29, 2023)

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

“Help!” – The Beatles’ second feature film – is a comedy adventure following the exploits of the group as they attempt to escape the clutches of an evil, mysterious cult. Will The Beatles survive being eaten by tigers, being shrunk, gassed, blown up, or kidnapped?

Sounds like fun! And why not? I have it on good authority that the fun was due largely to the fact that the guys were stoned to some degree throughout the entire filming of the movie.

The 1965 film was directed by Dick Lester and combines the Beatles’ own sense of humor with antics from a leading cast of actors. The movie has been regarded by many as a parody of contemporary James Bond films, complete with power crazy despots, mad inventors, and capers through exotic locations including the Bahamas and the snowy mountains of Austria. The film has also been credited as being the forerunner to contemporary rock musicals and pop videos.

So many classic tracks are on the Help! album, hits such as “Ticket To Ride”, “Yesterday”, “I’ve Just Seen a Face”, “You’re Gonna Lose That Girl” and, of course, “Help!”

From 1965, here are The Beatles performing the titular song from their second movie.

There aren’t too many really good live videos of The Beatles so I was happy to find one for today’s post. John could never resist joking with the audience and cutting up on stage.

I had a great time today At The Movies; I hope you enjoyed this one as well. Please join me again next week.

Nick is up next Breaking Boundaries; I hope you stick around for that.

Time for me to hit the road.

See you on the flip side.

I’m The Sicilian Storyteller

NAR © 2023

Fifties, In The Groove

IN THE GROOVE (June 27, 2023)

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

“Ella Fitzgerald is the only performer with whom I’ve ever worked who made me nervous, because I know I need to meet her standards.”

So said Frank Sinatra in 1959.

Sometimes referred to as the “First Lady of Song“, “Lady Ella” and “Queen of Jazz”, Ella Fitzgerald was noted for her purity of tone, impeccable diction, phrasing, timing, intonation and improvisational ability, particularly in her “scat” singing. 

I could write pages about Ella Fitzgerald and her many accomplishments but I know you don’t want to read that. You’d much rather listen to her sing, wouldn’t you?

I must apologize for having only audio today; as I’ve said before, I will always try to give you the very best quality video experience possible. Sometimes there aren’t any good videos to be found, as is the case today. So sit back, close your eyes and delight in the divine sounds of “Lady Ella”.

This is George Gershwin’s exquisite “Someone To Watch Over Me”.

That was sheer brilliance, effortless perfection. I feel like that guy looks in the lower right of the YouTube pic!

Earlier in the post I mentioned scat; Ella was the best when it came to that style of singing. I’m not going to load up my page today with another video; instead I’d like to make a suggestion: if you’re in the mood for some of the best scat you’ll ever hear, check out Ella singing a little something called “Smooth Sailing”. It will knock your socks off!

Well, that’s it for me today here In The Groove. Deb’s coming up tomorrow with another segment of World Music. Stay cool and I’ll catch ya next week!

See you on the flip side.

I’m The Sicilian Storyteller

NAR © 2023

Uncategorized

NIGHT TERRORS

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

My son cried out for me again. It had become a nightly ritual.

At first I was amused by his attempts to stall going to sleep. Sometimes he’d ask for a glass of water or another bedtime story. His latest ruse was “monsters”. I’d made a big deal of looking under the bed, inside the closet, behind the rocking horse in the corner. Satisfied nothing was hiding in his room, he would drift off to sleep.

Now the routine had turned into a habit and I found myself becoming exasperated. The last couple of nights, my son was clearly upset by something he claimed to have seen. He cried real tears, asking me to keep the lights on. We compromised and began using a nightlight.

Still, something was scaring my boy and my frustration turned into concern. He was now saying a wicked witch came to him every night. There was no denying my little guy was truly scared.

I thought about every tv show or movie that could have set this off, any posters or books in his room. Nothing came to mind and I rubbed my temples as another headache began to worm its way in.

My son screamed for me and I ran to his room. The witch was back and he cried for me to stay with him. I crawled onto his bed and laid down, my arms around him and my head on his pillow. I closed my eyes as he described the bony and twisted fingers of a witch’s hand reaching through his bedroom window. With ragged breaths my boy clung to me, begging me to keep the witch away.

I held him tightly and kissed his head, assuring him that witches weren’t real and he was safe. Slowly his breathing calmed and I opened my eyes to see if he was asleep. With my head still on his pillow, I had the same view of my son’s room as he did. For the first time I saw his world through his 4-year-old eyes.

And there in the darkness tap-tap-tapping on his window was a sight that made me gasp … the gnarled and skinny branches of the scraggly juniper bush outside my son’s room looked very much like an evil witch’s hand grasping at little boys! How could I have missed it and the fearsome shadows it cast across the walls and onto the ceiling? I felt an enormous amount of guilt for not seeing what he saw, for thinking it was his only imagination, for losing my patience with a frightened little boy.

We sat up on his bed and I explained to my son that what he saw was not a witch but only branches and I could understand why it scared him. I asked my boy if he remembered seeing the juniper bush during the day while outside playing. He quickly nodded “Yes”. I asked him if the bush scared him when he saw it during the day; he giggled and said “No!”

I turned on all the lights in his room and asked if it would be ok if I opened the window. My son didn’t answer right away; he stared at his hands in his lap and nervously fussed with his pajamas, then looked up at me with tears in his eyes. I wanted to run to him and scoop him up in my arms but I forced myself not to move. I’m sure it took every ounce of courage for him to quietly answer “Ok, Mommy”.

I held out my hand and he slowly walked to me, that look of ‘dead man walking’ on his face. But he was a brave boy that night and together we opened the window. I reached out and touched the branches of the juniper. I shook the branches; there wasn’t a witch anywhere. My son asked if he could shake the branches, too, and I told him he could. When I asked if we should have Daddy cut down the bush in the morning, my son was very thoughtful for a minute. Then he shook his head saying “No, the bush didn’t mean to be scary”. He threw his arms around my neck and he climbed back into bed.

That night the fears were conquered, the night terrors vanquished. My little son is now a grown man with little sons of his own and it’s his turn to dispel their fears. Sometimes I wonder if he has any memory of those frightening nights from forty years ago.

Something tells me he doesn’t remember a thing.

NAR © 2023

Moonwashed Weekly Prompt – Amused

Please join me today
In The Groove.
It’ll be cool. 😎
https://rhythmsection.blog/

Uncategorized

SPITTING IMAGE

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬
Image credit; Kaboompics @ Pexels

It had been eighteen months since Jean’s parents were killed in a skiing accident in Utah. Their deaths left her alone with no family except for her mother’s estranged younger sister Gloria who lived halfway around the world. When the accident happened, Jean thought of reaching out to Gloria in Australia but she had no way of contacting her. Besides, too many years and no love lost between her mother and aunt dissuaded her from even trying.

Jean could no longer put off the job of cleaning out her parent’s house. She packed up all their clothes as a donation to the Salvation Army and arranged for a pick up. On the floor of her mother’s now empty bedroom closet she discovered a large shoe box; it was full of old family photos.

Jean ignored the box for a few days until curiosity got the best of her. She carried it into the living room, poured herself a glass of wine and started going through the photos. There were the typical family images of her grandparents, her parents and herself  – nothing terribly special or interesting.

Jean was about to put the cover back on the box when she noticed a manilla envelope at the very bottom. She pulled it out, unwound the string that kept it closed and emptied the contents onto the coffee table. All that slipped out was a clear plastic sheath from a photo album. There were six pockets on both sides of the sheath and each pocket contained a photo. Twelve images were visible – six on one side and six on the other.

Sipping her wine, Jean examined the photos. The first one was of her mother and Gloria; the remaining photos were only of Gloria. Jean didn’t recognize the place where the photos had been taken and no one else was there. It didn’t take long for Jean to notice that Gloria was pregnant; in each photo her belly appeared larger and larger. The final two photos were of Gloria cradling an infant in her arms. Something made Jean remove those two photos from their plastic covering; written neatly on the back in her mother’s handwriting was “Gloria with her daughter, Jean”.

Jean slowly placed her glass on the table. Of course! It all made sense. That would explain why there were never any photos of her own pregnant mother, no photos of her proud father with his hand on her mother’s expanding belly, no photos of any other children. And, of course, there was the sudden disappearance of Gloria. Jean was an only child and Gloria – the woman she believed to be her aunt – was actually her mother. And who was her father? Jean was sure it could not be the man she thought of as her father; she always believed she never bore even the slightest resemblance to him. She was the spitting image of her mother and her aunt but now, looking at these old photos, she wasn’t so sure. Her whole life felt like a lie.

Jean was reeling with this new information. She paced the room thinking of what she should do next. She briefly wondered what time it was in Australia; she didn’t care. She needed answers. She searched through her mother’s address books until she found a listing for Gloria; who knew after all this time if the number was still the same? It had been 24 years since those photos were taken; she hesitated for a second, then dialed the number.

Her call was answered on the first ring.

NAR © 2023

What do you see # 191- June 19, 2023
Uncategorized

THE VIGIL

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

She was much too young, too ravishing to be a widow.

The essence of propriety, she sat on a chair at the foot of her husband’s coffin, graciously greeting those who came to pay their respects.

Her husband’s beloved Adagio in G Minor played softly in the background.

A tear escaped and she dabbed her eye with a lace handkerchief. Her stepson, her husband’s grown son, stood behind her, a conciliatory hand lightly on her shoulder.

His thumb discreetly caressed her velvet neck.

NAR © 2023
83 word requirement

Weekend Writing Prompt #317 – Adagio
Uncategorized

BOYS WILL BE BOYS

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬
©Ayr/Gray

He wasn’t a bad boy, the tearful mother professed to the crowd who gathered on the beach. Yes, he was precocious, as his teachers would attest, but he was a bright and friendly child with a clever imagination. Surely you can see that; just look at him happily playing tag with his new friends by the water.

It was dreadful, no denying, but it was a horrible accident, the weeping woman explained. A simple game of hide and seek gone terribly awry. Teams of two, boys against girls. Her son and his little friend Jack took turns hiding in a hollow on the beach, each one covering the other with sand and rocks. It was really the perfect spot to hide.

Her son scampered off behind a nearby dune to wait in hiding when the girls called out “Ready or not, here I come!” They quickly found him behind the dune and he chased them, forgetting all about his friend buried beneath the sand and rocks. Only when he heard urgent voices yelling “JACK! JACK!” did he remember his friend.

He ran to the spot where Jack was hiding, desperate parents on his heels, but it was sadly too late for his little friend. Of course no one blamed him; it was a game turned deadly, fun between innocent children.

Later, as the boy sat on his bed, he removed a slip of paper taped behind his bedpost. With a red crayon, he crossed off the name “Jack” from the list.

NAR © 2023
250 words

The Unicorn Challenge – 23/06/23
Uncategorized

Today’s meaningless historical fact

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Actually, it was yesterday
but does that really matter?

bluebird of bitterness's avatarbluebird of bitterness

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Uncategorized

ONE FOR THE ROAD

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

We were driving down iconic Route 66 in our convertible Volkswagen Jetta on our way from Chicago to Santa Monica, California, everything we owned being towed in a small rented U-Haul. In the backseat on the floor behind us, sleeping in his carrying case, was our bulldog puppy, Ringo. 

We’d been on the same stretch of road without seeing another soul for what seemed like an eternity – nothing but miles of tall corn and wheat fields swaying in the breeze. We talked about everything, especially opening our new veterinary practice – a huge step in our professional lives but one we were ready for. Our real estate agent sent us photos of our new office with the name boldly printed in black lettering on a light grey awning: Peterson’s Planned PetHood. 🐈‍⬛

Rummaging through the glove box looking for a snack bar, I came across The Beatles White Album. “Hey, look what I found” I said, showing the CD to my husband, Doc. 

“Excellent! Put it on, Babe.”

Opening the case, I discovered a long-forgotten joint, crushed but still viable. “Whoa! Check it out. This CD comes with a bonus track!”  

We lit up, the stale weed snapping and popping as it burned. Even the smallest of tokes resulted in fits of coughing but we still got a decent buzz on. The CD was an incredible find; with each mile down the road we got a little bit higher and a little bit louder singing along to the tunes.

And then there it was – the unmistakable intro of funky get-down guitar slaps and drum beats leading into ‘Why Don’t We Do It In The Road?’. We were grooving in our seats, thumping on the car doors, digging the hell out of that song.

Doc pulled the car over onto the shoulder. Lowering his sunglasses down his nose, he looked at me seductively and started singing “No one will be watching us, why don’t we do it in the road?”  

“Have you lost your mind? What are you … some horny teenager?” 

“Well, you’re half right, I’ll give ya that. Here we sit … a hot banging Beatles song playing, my incredibly sexy wife in a miniskirt and plenty of road. Listen. Paul’s practically begging us to get out of this car and do it IN THE ROAD!”

“Your know, we can get plenty cozy right here IN the car” I suggested, slowly stretching my legs on the dashboard. 

Doc laughed and leaned over to kiss me, whispering “We’ve done it IN the car … a lot. C’mon, Becca!  Let’s get down [*kiss*] and dirty [*kiss*] and do it in the road [*long hot kiss*]. 

It didn’t take much for me and doc to turn each other on. Pushing the ‘REPEAT’ button on the CD player, he grabbed a blanket from the back seat and we ran to the rear of the car. Laughing, I wriggled out of my panties and wrapped my legs around Doc’s waist as we eased ourselves to the ground. 

Just as Paul let loose with the high note, we heard an “Ahem” and froze. Glancing sideways, we saw the shiniest pair of black boots standing two feet from our car. A man’s voice said ”Pardon me, folks. Trooper Matthew Blake, Oklahoma Highway Patrol. Just as soon as you’re finished checking that tow hitch, I suggest you best be on your way.” And he walked back to his patrol car humming “Why Don’t We Do It In The Road?”.

As he drove by our car, Trooper Blake gave us two short beeps of his horn. We sheepishly got back into our car and continued our journey to Santa Monica. What a lovely little rest stop that had been!

After a few months living in our new digs, doing some online research and making a few calls, I finally discovered the address for the Oklahoma Highway Patrol location of Trooper Matthew Blake. I prepared a small mailing box with a shiny new pair of Ray-Bans and a mini photo of our infant son. A small card read:

“One For the Road”
Gratefully ~ Doc, Becca and Matthew Blake Peterson
🕶️

I smiled imagining what that trooper’s reaction would be when he read our son’s name.

NAR © 2023

Please join me today
for another segment of
At The Movies.
There will be music!
https://rhythmsection.blog/

At The Movies, Seventies

AT THE MOVIES (June 22, 2023)

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

It’s time to go to the movies! Why don’t you go grab us a couple of good seats and I’ll get the soda and popcorn? And maybe a couple of umbrellas! 🥤 🍿 ☔️ ☔️

On Tuesday we talked about the iconic dance moves of Michael Jackson. No doubt he influenced countless young dancers over the years but have you ever wondered who influenced him? Well, it should come as no surprise that MJ had a very diverse selection of dance legends who influenced him, including James Brown, Fred Astaire, Bob Fosse, Jackie Wilson, Gene Kelly and Sammy Davis, Jr.

Let’s talk a little about one of those brilliant performers and his most recognized movie.

“Singin’ in the Rain” is a 1952 musical romantic comedy featuring the many talents of Gene Kelly. The movie offers a lighthearted depiction of Hollywood in the late 1920s and the lives of famous silent screen stars suddenly caught up in the transition from silent films to “talkies”.

Remember that funny saying “She’s got a face for the radio”? Well, there were more than a few silent movie stars who found themselves on the unemployment line when asked to speak!

“Singin’ in the Rain” was only a modest hit when it was first released. However, it has since been accorded legendary status and is often regarded as the greatest musical film ever made. I don’t know about that; anyone ever hear of a little movie called “West Side Story”?

The song I’ve chose to showcase today is an obvious one; it’s best known as the centerpiece of the movie in which Gene Kelly memorably sang and danced while splashing through puddles during a rainstorm.

Here is “Singing in the Rain” from the movie of the same name starring Gene Kelly.

Now, I don’t know about you but while I sing in the shower almost every day, I’ve never sung or danced in the rain like that and I’m sure I never will! I know – Gene Kelly’s character is crazy in love but he looks like he’s having entirely too much fun for someone who’s soaked to the bone!

All kidding aside, Gene Kelly was definitely one of Hollywood’s greatest dancers, making every move look smooth as silk. I often thought Gene Kelly would have made a great Tin Man in “The Wizard of Oz” but that role went to Jack Haley. What do you think? Let’s make a little comparison; here’s a clip of Jack Haley in that metallic role:

Wow! I could use some of what’s in his oilcan! And I can definitely see Gene Kelly doing those incredible dance moves. In 1978, Michael Jackson played the role of The Scarecrow in “The Wiz” – talk about six degrees of separation!

Did you enjoy today’s post and videos? I love reading your comments so let me know your thoughts.

That’s it for this week, kids. I’m outta here!

See you on the flip side.

I’m The Sicilian Storyteller

NAR © 2023

Uncategorized

World Music Day at The Rhythm Section 🎶

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬
World Music Day –  La Fête de la Musique
Uncategorized

NEW YORK STATE OF TERROR

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Death was on Julia Rubino’s mind a lot during 1976.

Automatic negative thoughts (or ANTS as she called them) started crawling around her brain months earlier when she first heard about the mysterious murders in New York City.

The killer openly taunted the police; seeking misplaced attention and public veneration, he wrote rambling and ambiguous letters to journalist Jimmy Breslin who printed them in his column in The Daily News. In his letters the murderer sometimes referenced a cult, hinting that the killings were a rite of passage. Other times he claimed a demonic dog owned by his neighbor Sam spoke to him demanding the blood of pretty young girls.

All the victims were females with long dark hair; as a college student with shoulder-length brunette curls, Julia felt particularly vulnerable. When she told her parents she wanted to cut her hair and dye it blonde, they said she was over-reacting. Julia’s boyfriend Steve told her she was being ridiculous, that there was nothing to worry about. He said they were safe in their little town of New Rochelle. Violent crimes like that only happened in dangerous urban locations, not quiet Westchester County.

On date nights, Julia and Steve often drove to the Glen Island Beach parking lot in New Rochelle; it was a popular make-out spot and the police very rarely patrolled the area or bothered the couples parked there. When Julia told Steve she didn’t want to go parking any more, he got pissed off. Tearfully she told him the murders were making her afraid of her own shadow. She reminded him that the killings always involved two victims – young women and their boyfriends parked in cars. She couldn’t shake the notion that something terrible was going to happen to them.

Steve argued that Julia was being paranoid and they had no other choice if they wanted to be alone. They had no privacy living at home with their parents and Julia refused to go to a motel saying it made her feel sleazy. Frustrated, Steve yelled at her to calm down and get a grip. Afraid of losing him, Julia begrudgingly decided they had only one option if they wanted to be alone and that was the dark parking lot of Glen Island Beach.

On July 29 things took an unexpected and shocking turn; the first murders in Westchester County occurred. This time the killer’s MO was different and left the police wondering if the shootings were done by the same individual or a copy-cat killer. The victims were two girls sitting in a car in a well-lit area – not a girl and her boyfriend in a dark parking lot.

The two women were nurses Jody Valenti and Donna Lauria. They had been sitting in Jody’s double-parked Oldsmobile outside Donna’s house talking about their night out at a New Rochelle disco. When Donna opened the car door to get out, a man suddenly approached. Pulling out a gun, he crouched down and opened fire. Donna was killed instantly but Jody survived. The attack happened quickly, however, Jody was able to give a description of the assailant. It matched that of the shooter of the previous killings.

Westchester County residents were panic-stricken, especially Julia. Police urged everyone to stay vigilant and refrain from sitting in parked cars. Julia considered dropping out of college and staying at home until the murderous madman was caught; her parents convinced her it was irrational to completely cut oneself off from the world. No one understood how scared she was, especially now that the murders were much closer to home. She felt like she had a target painted on her back. Every young woman felt the same way; our lives were being controlled by an unknown killer and our own fears.

For more than a year the killer held the citizens of New York captive. On the night of August 10, 1977, the state of terror finally ended. After a brief but intense shootout, the murderer was apprehended at his Yonkers apartment, ironically just minutes from Westchester Community College where Julia was a student. Julia could finally breathe a sigh of relief. Whatever her reasons were, she had a feeling deep in her gut that if the killer had not been caught, she would have eventually ended up on his list of victims. That is something that will remain unanswered forever.

Dear readers – Julia Rubino, her boyfriend Steve and her parents are fictional characters I created for this story; everything else written here is true and accurate. I know this because I lived through it and was as terrified as everyone else.

In August it will be 46 years since that historic arrest. The notorious killer is David Berkowitz, known around the world as Son of Sam. Berkowitz pled guilty to all the shootings; six people were killed and seven wounded, some horribly. His weapon of choice was a .44 caliber Bulldog revolver gun.

On the day after his sentencing, Berkowitz was taken first to Sing Sing prison in Ossining, NY, then to the upstate Clinton Correctional Facility for psychiatric and physical examinations. Two more months were spent at the Central New York Psychiatric Center before his admission to the infamous Attica Correctional Facility. Berkowitz served about a decade in Attica until he was relocated to Sullivan Correctional Facility in Fallsburg, where he remained for many years. He is now housed at Shawangunk Correctional Facility which is located in Wallkill, Ulster County.

Berkowitz described his life in Attica as “a living hell, a nightmare” – as it should be; no one is more deserving.

NAR © 2023

Please follow me today
In The Groove
as the scariness continues.
https://rhythmsection.blog/

Eighties, In The Groove

IN THE GROOVE (June 20, 2023)

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Right from his start in Gary, Indiana with his brothers in The Jackson 5, it was obvious that Michael Jackson was destined for stardom. Over a four-decade career, his contributions to music, dance and fashion, along with his globally publicized personal life, made him a world-renown figure in pop culture. Jackson influenced artists across many music genres; through stage and video performances, he popularized complicated dance moves such as the moonwalk, to which he gave the name, as well as the robot.

He was indeed destined for stardom. Michael Jackson is the most awarded recording artist in pop music history.

It was not easy for me to pick a song by Michael Jackson; after watching a few videos, I kept coming back to one because of its creativity in both song and dance. The precision of the dance moves by Jackson and the ensemble cast is impeccable. We’d never seen anything quite like it before or since. My choice for you today is Thriller.

What you are about to see is the short version; no singing or dancing has been cut from the long version so you won’t be missing anything. The full version is more than 13 minutes long and is all about what happens before the zombie song/dance routine. I saw no reason in taking up your time with what can readily be viewed on YouTube at your leisure.

The first time I saw this on MTV, I couldn’t believe what I was watching. Hold onto something and get ready for Thriller!

That was crazy good! So fabulous to watch and still great after all these years!

Now for the question of the day:

In the original long version of “Thriller”, we can hear narration being done by a very ‘creepy’ and easily recognizable voice. Can you name the famous old-time actor well known for his many spooky movies who was the voice of “Thriller”?

Check the bottom of the page for the answer.

Well,  I hope you’re having a great time here In The Groove. I love comments as well as answers so don’t be shy; let me know what you’re thinking.

Catch you Thursday At The Movies.

See you on the flip side.

I’m The Sicilian Storyteller

NAR © 2023

The unforgettable spooky voice was that of ….. Vincent Price.

Uncategorized

STOLEN MOMENTS

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

She paused at the approach to Cabin 1-8, one foot resting on the first step. Her days were always rough but today had been more difficult than usual. She lost one of her patients today; of course as a nurse it had happened to her before but it’s something she never got used to.

She took a deep breath and walked up the remaining steps to the front door. She could hear the radio playing “Apple Blossom Time” by the Andrews Sisters. She smiled at the thought of dancing in the living room in his warm embrace.

Before her hand could turn the knob, the door opened. He smiled and drew her into his arms, kissing her deeply. They both knew at some point the doctors would realize he had regained his memory and vision; he would be able to return home but for now they would take whatever comfort they could find in each other’s arms.

He locked the door and they ran upstairs to his bedroom – unhappy thoughts of their own spouses rapidly fading from their minds. All that mattered to them was today and these stolen moments together. Tomorrow would come soon enough.

NAR © 2023
192 words

Simply 6 Minutes – Welcome to the Challenge: 06/13/2023
Miscellaneous

JUST FOR FUN

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Not too long ago we got into the subject of the pros and cons of reality television. At that time I mentioned that I enjoyed watching American Idol when it first came out and now America’s Got Talent. Admitting that didn’t embarrass me at all; I have always been a fan of music talent shows and what bigger musical competition program is there than AGT?

This evening while checking out what was on my DVR I came across this. What a great example of reaching for the moon and realizing what had only been imagined.

I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did.

See you on the flip side.

I’m The Sicilian Storyteller

NAR © 2023

Uncategorized

WEDDING PLANS

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬
Photo credit: Rowena Curtin

“I love what you’ve done with the alcove, darling.”

“Delighted you like it, precious. It’s a gift for you.”

“Oh, thank you, luv! It looks so welcoming!”

“Shall we sit and discuss our wedding plans, sweetness?”

“Yes, let’s! Are those planting reminder placards in the garden, darling?”

“In a way, yes, pumpkin. They’re my previous wives’ markers.”

“Previous wives, dear? They’re buried here?”

“Of course not, silly!”

“Oh, that’s a relief, sweetheart!”

“The area’s too small, my pet … just enough room for their heads.”

“On second thought, about our wedding, Stanley.”

“Hush now, Carla. It’s all plotted out. ”

NAR © 2023
#Friday Fictioneers
100 words

16 June 2023
Uncategorized

HOLD THAT THOUGHT

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

“Are we done now, Grace?”

“Just one house left, James. The realtor said it has fabulous water views.”

“Water views? Alright then, let’s take a look.”

“Brilliant! It’s just down the end of this road.”

“Good! I’ve had my fill of house hunting today, Grace. I just want to go home.”

“I know and you’ve been such a dear about it, James. Ah, here we are. Look at that gorgeous sky!”

“Right-o, darling! It’s magnificent!”

“And there’s the house, James! How utterly charming!”

“The view is superb and the landscaping, marvelous. Hold on, Grace. What’s that monstrous-looking thing in the middle of the water?”

“I’ve no idea, James. Use the binoculars.”

“Bloody hell, Grace. No wonder this house hasn’t sold yet. It’s a floating penal colony!”

“A what?”

“A prison!”

“Oh my! I thought you said ‘penis colony’!”

“Why, Grace, you naughty girl! Hold that thought.”

“With pleasure! Home, James!”

NAR © 2023

Crimson’s Creative Challenge #240
Uncategorized

THE THICKET

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬
©Ayr/Gray

Invisible in the temporary stillness before dawn, the trio of soldiers crept silently through the jungle. One had an injured leg as the result of a skirmish; he knew his injury would impede their progress and he pleaded with his comrades to leave him to die alone with dignity. The steadfast friends refused to abandon him in the middle of enemy territory.

Walking on, the soldiers spotted a tall thicket in the distance where they could take shelter. Painstakingly, one soldier carried his injured brother on his back into the copse while the third searched for something for them to eat. Finally for the first time in hours the exhausted trio was able to get some rest.

After a while, the wounded soldier awoke with a fever, his leg swollen and throbbing. Since it was now midday, it was too risky to leave their cover. Outside was sweltering and humid and the chance of them being caught would be great. No … they would stay where they were until it was safe to venture out.

Suddenly their wounded brother heaved a ragged breath and died. Grief-stricken, yet aware they must move on, the soldiers covered their comrade with rocks and began the slow crawl out. Without warning a long carnivorous caterpillar slithered through the brush and swallowed the startled army ants. They struggled bravely, as courageous ants are wont to do, but in the end they could not prevail. 

Poor little buggers. 

NAR © 2023

The Unicorn Challenge – 16/06/23
Uncategorized

Breaking Boundaries #8

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Turn off everything else
for half an hour and read this.
Let the light of Lucy into your day.

Spira's avatarThe Rhythm Section

Boundary: a line which marks the limits of an area; a dividing line.
Often boundaries serve a purpose, sometimes they are waiting to be transcended.
Every Friday, here at The Rhythm Section, we will explore the ocean of music using the latter as our lodestar: breaking of a boundary.
/*

There are times, days, moments in our lives when dark clouds amass overhead. The impending storm is not softened by the anticipation of petrichor, since nothing seems to penetrate that darkness spreading inside.
Suddenly, comes a ray of light.
It can be a friend with enough empathy to bridge thousands of miles as if they were inches.
It can be a simple joke that will fuse tears with laughter.

Or it can be… Lucy.

Before we talk about Lucy, let us look for a moment around her.
Her mother; she didn’t give up when her child was…

View original post 475 more words

Uncategorized

THE SMARTS

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

“Promenaders?” Chrissy looked up from her homework, a confused look on her face. “Wow! Such a weird word! Wonder what it means. Mom, are you listening to me?” 

Julie, Chrissy’s mom, stopped preparing dinner and turned to talk to her daughter. “Yes sweetie, I’m listening. I know the word and you do, too. Just think about it for a minute, Chris. Anything come to mind?” 

Chrissy’s face was skewed in a bewildered expression. “It sorta sounds like that weird fruit, the one  with all the red seeds in the center which you’re supposed to eat. How bizarre is that … eating seeds? Ya know what I’m talking about, mom?” 

Julie laughed. “You’re thinking of pomegranates, Chris!  And yes, it’s a little strange but the seeds are really delicious. I’ll get some for you to taste. Now, back to your homework … ‘promenaders’. It’s a word you’ve heard before. Try again.”  

Chrissy absentmindedly chewed on her pencil, deep in thought, then smiled as though a huge secret had suddenly been revealed. “I know! Prom-en-ad-ers are teenagers who go to the prom!” And she burst out laughing at her play on words.

“Very clever, Chrissy girl, but not quite right. Wait … you’ve just given me an idea! Let’s see if this jogs your memory.” Julie dashed out of the kitchen and returned with one of Chrissy’s yearbooks. “Remember when everyone took square dancing in 6th grade?”  

“Sure, but what does that yearbook have to do with anything, mom? That was, like, ages ago when I was eleven. I’m fourteen now!” 

Julie rolled her eyes. “Yes, I know … you’re so very grown up now! Here, humor me and take a look at this picture. It’s from one of the square dances you used to go to. Read the caption.” 

Chrissy heaved an exaggerated sigh, took the yearbook from Julie and recited the verse:

*Then you all promenade with the sweet corner maid singing “Oh, Johnny! Oh, Johnny! Oh!”*

Chrissy’s eyes opened wide. “I remember that song! That’s the part of the dance when we strolled around the dance floor. Sooo, that must mean promenaders are people who stroll!”  

“There ya go, kiddo! You got it!” Julie exclaimed. “Process of elimination; just some of the ‘smarts’ we acquire as we get older – like grey hair.”

Chrissy jumped off the kitchen stool and raced down the hall to her bedroom.

“Hey … where you off to? Dinner’s almost ready” Julie called out after her. 

“I’ll be back in a second, mom. Just checking if I have any grey hair yet!”

NAR © 2023

I hope you’ll join me today
At The Movies
for another song and
a great video.
https://rhythmsection.blog/

At The Movies, Eighties

AT THE MOVIES (June 15, 2023)

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Hey! Glad to see you back here At The Movies! I’ve got a real toe-tapper for you today.

“Footloose” was co-written and recorded by Kenny Loggins in 1984 for the movie of the same name. The musical drama tells the story of Ren McCormack (Kevin Bacon), a teenager from Chicago who moves to a small mid-Western town. Ren is shocked to discover a ban on dancing and rock and roll music has been instituted by the religiously zealous local minister, Rev. Shaw Moore (John Lithgow). Can our young hero save the day and get the ban overturned in time for the senior prom?

The song was very well received and is one of the most recognizable songs recorded by Kenny Loggins. I always like the sound of Kenny Loggins’ voice and the many songs he recorded. This is one of my favorites.

Here is the great “Footloose” sung by Kenny Loggins.

Now that’s a really great dance tune! Kevin Bacon did most of the dancing for “Footloose” but there were times when a double stood in for some of the gymnastics and precarious dance moves (much to Bacon’s chagrin).

Now for the question of the day:

Before Kenny Loggins went solo, he had a well-known songwriting/singing partner. Together they sold 16 million records and were the most successful duo of the early 1970s, surpassed later in the decade only by Hall & Oates. Can you name Kenny Loggins’ one-time music partner?

The answer appears on the bottom of the page.

Glad to have you with me At The Movies. I hope you enjoyed the musical selection today. Don’t forget to check out what’s going on at Breaking Boundaries tomorrow with Nick.

Have a great weekend, friends; there’s lots to check out at The Rhythm Section!

See you on the flip side.

I’m The Sicilian Storyteller

NAR © 2023

Kenny Loggins’ one-time singing partner/song co-writer was ….. Jim Messina (Loggins & Messina).

Uncategorized

OLIVE OIL

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

My parents were extremely good-looking; both could have been movie stars. Mom seemed completely unaware of her effect on men.

Despite this, Dad was incredibly jealous and insisted Mom cancel her home delivery of olive oil because he believed Luigi, the delivery man, had a “thing” for my mother. She, of course, thought it was ridiculous but complied.

Dad was always at work during deliveries. The final olive oil day was extremely hot and Luigi wore shorts, something he never did. It was only then I noticed the heart-shaped birthmark behind his right knee – exactly the same as mine.

#99WordStory
NAR © 2023

June 13: Story Challenge in 99-words
Uncategorized

BUT I’VE BEEN THINKING

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

“Confused, Jesse? What’s there to be confused about? We have plans. I thought you were onboard and happy. What’s going on?” Sarah stood, impatiently tapping her toe. 

“That’s just it, Sarah. I don’t know what’s going on. We really need to talk about our wedding plans.”  Jesse paced back and forth, hands shoved deep into his jeans pockets. 

“Hold it right there, cowboy! Are you calling off our wedding?” Sarah’s eyes grew dark and angry. 

“That was not my intention, Sarah, but I’ve been thinking – how’d we get from a simple garden wedding to this elaborate affair you’ve got planned?” 

Sarah’s face flushed with exasperation. “Well, this is a fine time to bring that up! Our wedding is two weeks away and everything is ready. My dress, the venue, the flowers, the caterers, our honeymoon. Even the name cards for the tables have been printed!” 

“I know, Sarah, and before I realized it, our wedding turned into the social event of the year! You didn’t discuss any of this with me and I was right here the whole time. I don’t want a circus with a cast of characters I don’t even know or a stuffy office job to be happy. Your dad’s a great guy and offering to make me a partner in his business was extremely generous but I never wanted a power job and I certainly don’t want to be treated differently because I’m the boss’s son-in-law!“

With every word Jesse said, Sarah became more irate until she couldn’t stand it another minute. “Enough! You’re right, Jesse! I intentionally left you out of the planning because I didn’t want you trying to talk me out of my dream wedding! If you had your way, we’d be getting married in a barn in Nebraska. You’re so big on the truth, Jesse, here’s some truth for you. I’m glad your hillbilly family can’t make it to the wedding!” Sarah spat the words out angrily.

The room was silent for a long time. Finally, Jesse spoke. “Is that why you convinced my parents not to come to the wedding. Don’t bother trying to deny it; I know it’s the truth. Do you think I’m a fool, Sarah? Did you really believe I would never find out what you did? I’ve known for weeks and the only reason I never confronted you with what I know is because my mother, who is infinitely wiser, kinder and more forgiving than anyone I know, convinced me not to say anything.”

Instead of feeling sorry for what she had done, Sarah tried to justify it. “Jesse, surely you can see I was only trying to do your parents a favor and spare their feelings. They never would have felt comfortable being here.”

“Sarah, you know my background growing up on a farm. I come from simple, hard-working people. The smell of the earth, working with my hands, tending to the animals – that’s what I know and love. I always dreamed of having my own farm some day, waking up with the roosters and working in the fields. I dream of family barbecues with square dancing, homemade ice cream for dessert and a passel of happy kids running around. I’m an uncomplicated guy, Sarah. All I want is us, a family and a farm.” 

“Whoa, Jesse. Back it up. I have dreams, too. Ever since I was a little girl I wanted to marry a man as smart and handsome and rich as my father. I want a huge wedding at the Waldorf, cruising around the world on a honeymoon, living in a penthouse overlooking Central Park. Now you’re asking me to give those dreams up for life with a bunch of rugrats and a barn in the middle of nowhere? You can’t be serious, especially after everything my father has done for you.” 

“What the hell are we doing here, Sarah? Your dreams are all about the wedding; I did’t hear one word about our life together. I never asked your father for a thing, certainly not some hifalutin office job doing something I know nothing about. All I did was fall in love with the girl who shared my cab one rainy afternoon. Where’d she go, Sarah? My mother may understand you but I feel like I don’t know you at all.”

“Jesse, you’re not thinking straight. Do you really believe you’ll be happy spending your life milking cows, working the fields and going to state fairs instead of living in the lap of luxury with me?”

“You know what, Sarah? You’re right! I wouldn’t be happy – at least not with you – and you would never be happy with me.” Jesse walked to the door, then paused. “I’m sure some day you’ll meet a guy who’s just as shallow as you but that guy’s not me. Goodbye, Sarah. Thanks for stopping me from making a huge mistake.” 

“Hold on, cowboy! We’re not done here! You do not get to walk out on me, Jesse!” Sarah seethed.

Jesse grinned. “That’s where you’re wrong, Sarah.”

“You’ll be sorry, cowboy. You hear me? You’ll be sorry!” Sarah screamed as Jesse turned and left.

He laughed softly to himself knowing Sarah was wrong again.

NAR © 2023

Join me today
In The Groove
for another shot
at happiness!
https://rhythmsection.blog/

In The Groove

IN THE GROOVE (June 13, 2023)

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

OK, boys and girls! I guarantee you’re not going to be able to sit still for this one.

No foreplay today; let’s get straight down to business.

Here’s the happiest song from 2014, a huge hit for Pharrell Williams. It’s called … what else?? …“HAPPY”!

I love that guy! He puts me in such a great mood, I want to ingest a little bit of what he’s got going on. How can anyone not be smiling after that video?

There’s no question of the day but if you’d like to share with us what flips your happy switch, please do; comments and videos are always welcome. Most import of all: just be happy!

Stay tuned tomorrow when DA takes us someplace new. I wonder where this time?

Why not check out the other posts in The Rhythm Section and remember to stay GROOVY!!

See you on the flip side.

I’m The Sicilian Storyteller

NAR © 2023

Uncategorized

LESSONS LEARNED

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

It was painfully obvious that I hadn’t practiced my piano lessons during the week.

When questioned why, I offered the same old tired excuse: “I didn’t have time”.

My teacher looked at me and said something I will never forget: “You have all there is”.

Think about it.

NAR © 2023
Word Requirement: 48

Weekend Writing Prompt #315 – Tired