Uncategorized

VAFFANCULO!

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

“So, what brings you here today, Lou?” asked Dr. Patterson.

“I can’t sleep, Doc!” replied Lou in despair. “I’m so tired! I haven’t slept a wink!”

“If I had a dollar for every time I heard that!” laughed the doctor. “Look, Lou. Of all the ailments people discuss with me, the greatest number of complaints isn’t about body aches, irritable bowels, erectile dysfunction or psoriasis: the most talked-about topic is lack of sleep. Falling asleep at bedtime and getting a good night’s rest is a problem that plagues millions so you’re not alone in this. I’m going to ask you some questions; let’s see if we can come up with a solution.”

Lou yawned and nodded in agreement. His wife Marie chimed in. “Maybe you should start by telling the doctor how much coffee you drink every day.”

“Ok, that’s an excellent suggestion. How much coffee do you drink, Lou?” asked Dr. Patterson, his fingers hovering over the keys of his computer.

“Oh, I guess about eight cups a day and an espresso after dinner. We have one of those – whatchamacallits – Nespresso machines. Fantastic things! Just pop in a little plastic capsule and brew yourself fresh coffee in no time”

“Whoa! That’s a lot of caffeine!” The doctor was clearly surprised.” You need to cut back. If you drink that much coffee, at least half of it should be decaf. I’d like to eventually get you down to just one cup of regular coffee in the morning. How about alcohol?”

“Go ahead, Lou. Answer the doctor” Marie said, giving her husband a nudge with her elbow.

“I’ll have a couple of glasses of my cousin Carlo’s homemade vino while Marie’s preparing dinner. And another glass or two with dinner. Oh yeah, I like a nice sambucca while I’m watching “The Tonight Show” with that Jimmy Fallon. He’s a funny guy!”

The doctor stared at Lou allowing his words to sink in. “That’s five alcoholic drinks per day!” Dr. Patterson was flabbergasted.

“Give or take. Yeah, that sounds about right” was Lou’s reply as the doctor shook his head in amazement.

“What form of exercise do you engage in?” the doctor asked.

“Exercise!?” squawked Marie. “The strongest parts of his body are his fingers … from pushing himself away from the dining room table, surfing the interweb and using the remote control. He gets his exercise by watching Stallone running up and down those steps in that Rocky movie … as if that’s gonna work, you stupid jackass!”

Lou’s eyes shot daggers at his wife. She shrugged. “What? It’s the truth, Lou, and you know it.”

“What about your diet, Lou?” asked Dr. Patterson while eyeing Lou’s sizable belly.

“Diet? I ain’t on no diet, doc! My Marie is a fabulous cook!” Lou exclaimed, making her blush. “She makes everything from scratch, including her pizza, pasta, braciola, arancini – you name it, she can make it. And her ricotta cheesecake? Fuggedaboutit!”

“Well, it’s wonderful that Marie’s such a great cook but it sounds like you’re eating a lot of rich, fattening foods” the doctor replied with concern.

“What’s wrong with pizza?” Lou asked incredulously. “It’s the perfect food – something from all the food groups. You got your carbohydrates, your protein and your dairy, right?”

“Well, technically, yes but I wouldn’t call it ‘the perfect food’. Dr. Patterson entered all Lou’s information into his computer. “Let me get this straight, Lou. Your caffeine and alcohol intake is off the charts, you eat rich foods and desserts, you spend a lot of time in front of some type of device, you stay up late and you don’t exercise. Is that about right?”

“Yeah, I guess” Lou admitted begrudgingly.

“Do you realize that everything you’re doing is adversely affecting your quality of sleep? And what about you, Marie! How well do you sleep?”

“Who, me? Why, I sleep like a rock” Marie answered proudly.

“You’re not kidding! You should hear her snore, doc!” Lou guffawed. “What a racket! It sounds like bocce balls rolling around the court! Hey! That’s probably why I can’t sleep!”

Marie huffed indignantly.

“You snore, Marie? Sounds to me like you could have sleep apnea – a serious disorder. Considering everything we’ve discussed I’m referring you, Lou, to a life management specialist. And Marie, I’m scheduling a sleep disorder study for you.”

Lou and Marie stared at the doctor in shock.

“Can’t you just give me some sleeping pills?” pleaded Lou.

“And maybe all I need are some of those nose strips” Marie suggested hopefully.

“I’m afraid not. You need to make some serious life changes” replied the doctor showing Marie and Lou to the door. “Just stop by the desk on your way out and Victoria will have all the paperwork ready for you.”

“Thanks a lot, Marie, making me tell the doctor everything! Now I gotta see a specialist!” Lou griped. “This is all your fault!”

“Oh, shut up, Lou! Thanks to you, I gotta go for a sleep study! Well, you can get your own damn dinner tonight. I’m on strike!”

Lou looked devastated.

“And another thing, Lou – vaffanculo!”

NAR © 2023

I hope you’ll visit
me today
At The Movies
for more great music!
https://rhythmsection.blog/

At The Movies

AT THE MOVIES (August 3, 2023)

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Rocky Balboa, a small-time boxer from working-class Philadelphia, is arbitrarily chosen to take on the reigning world heavyweight champion, Apollo Creed, when the undefeated fighter’s scheduled opponent is injured. Will this chance of a lifetime be the break Rocky’s been waiting for or is he fated to be a no-name boxer forever?

“Gonna Fly Now”, composed by Bill Conti, is the immediately recognizable theme song from the movie “Rocky”. Released in 1976, the song became entrenched in 1970s American pop culture as part of the daily training regimen of the film’s main character and namesake, Rocky Balboa.

Who doesn’t love the movies and music from the Rocky franchise? And no one could ever play Rocky Balboa like Sylvester Stallone.

Enjoy this clip from Rocky featuring Bill Conti and “Gonna Fly Now”; it really gets the juices flowing!

Stallone always manages to entertain, whether playing Rocky, Rambo or even a Rhinestone Cowboy! Do you have a favorite Stallone movie?

Just a reminder that our friend Keith, The Nostalgic Italian, will be featured in our first guest post slot this Sunday, August 6. I hope to see you there at Be Our Guest.

That’s a wrap, kids; now hit the showers. Catch you back here next time.

See you on the flip side.

I’m The Sicilian Storyteller

NAR © 2023

Uncategorized

AN UNLIKELY HERO

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Sadje has asked us “What do you see?”

Image credit; Neha Godbole @ Unsplash

Fantasy Land, May 2, 1865 –
The day started out as any ordinary sunny spring day in Fantasy Land but by noon the town was in a frenzy for the news was out that 9 year old Mary Andrews had lost her lamb, Snowflake. Mary had Snowflake for only a few months but they had become attached to each other immediately, so much so that he followed her to school every day, even though Mary knew it was against the rules.
Teacher Sarah Johnson had this to say: “Mary’s such a lovely girl and Snowflake is so sweet with his fleece as white as snow. I didn’t mind the fact that the lamb followed Mary to school because she always tied him to a nearby tree but today for some reason he followed her right into the classroom. As you can imagine all the children wanted to do was laugh and play.”
Pressed for more information, Miss Johnson went on to say that she took Snowflake outside herself and tied him to the tree but when the children went out to play, the lamb was nowhere in sight.
The three blind mice who live across the road from the school became rather indignant when questioned about the incident. “Of course we didn’t see anything, you fool! We’re blind as bats! But we did hear some strange noises near the tree shortly before the children came outside.” When asked to described the noises one mouse said “It sounded like pulling or tugging” while another thought it was more like a snapping sound. The third mouse added “There was definitely a scuffle of some sort. Poor little Snowflake.”
Mary’s parents, Abigail and Wyatt Andrews, rushed to the school to console their daughter. Mr. Andrews was visibly upset to learn that the teacher had taken Snowflake away from Mary. “She had no right touching that lamb. She’s a school teacher, not a farmer and has no idea how to tie a proper knot. She should have asked Mary to tie Snowflake to the tree like she always does.”
Moments later Little Bo-Peep arrived on the scene and was asked her opinion on the incident. “Well, I’ve been a shepherdess for a long time now and if there’s one thing I know it’s this: If you leave them alone they’ll come home wagging their tails behind them.”
By mid-afternoon all the town’s residents had gathered at the school and formed search parties to look for Snowflake. Even Humpty Dumpty was there, sad and terribly broken up. In all my years as a reporter I’ve never seen such an outpouring of support.
A new development as Hansel and Gretel just arrived at the school. “Wait! We think we can help!” they cried and tearfully reminded those of us still at the school of their traumatic encounter with the evil witch who held them captive in her gingerbread house. “We all know how much Snowflake loves to eat wildflowers” Hansel said. Gretel added “The witch has flowers growing all around her house. If she get’s Snowflake to follow her there, the poor little guy won’t stand a chance.”
With great trepidation we entered the forest and came upon the witch’s house. There she was, gnarled and bent over, dragging a bleating Snowflake behind her. “STOP!!” the witch shrieked, “I’ll kill him right before your eyes!” Suddenly, Humpty Dumpty appeared out of nowhere and ran up to Snowflake, freeing him from the witch’s clutches. Snatching Humpty, the witch cackled “Fine! Take your precious lamb! I don’t need him. I’ll feast on scrambled eggs all week!” and she disappeared into the dark forest with Humpty.
What an act of bravery exhibited by Humpty Dumpty! He was indeed a good egg. 

NAR © 2023

What do you see # 197- July 31, 2023
Uncategorized

BIG BLUE

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

“Well, hello there. I’m Big Blue. And you? Ah, a pleasure to meet you, Reader. Please have a seat, get comfortable and let me tell you a little about myself. 

My family and I were purchased in 1964 by Nancy’s parents, Vito and Connie Schembre, for their home in the Bronx. Oh, we didn’t look anything like I do now! No, our upholstery was a green and gold velvet paisley which looked very elegant with the marble coffee table and white rug in the formal living room on the first floor. The only time The Schembres used the upstairs dining and living rooms was when special company came by.

Connie kept a beautiful house, immaculately clean from top to bottom. Like most Italian households, the basement was where the family really lived; it was fully furnished with a kitchen, dining area, bathroom and tv section. Connie had a nice sewing room where she spent many hours making costumes for school plays, clothes for her daughters and custom order dresses for a small clientele of local upper class women. And Vito had a workshop in the back where he’d make homemade wine and tinker with things that needed fixing which somehow never got fixed.

My parents were joined at the hip and formed one expansive sofa; my big sister was a loveseat and my twin brother and I recliners. Connie liked the fact that my brother and I were called “wall huggers” which meant our back stayed close to the wall and we didn’t sprawl out all over the place when in the reclining position. Why, we didn’t even look like your typical recliner.

The four of us together were just too much furniture for the formal living room so it was decided that I would join the more casual furniture downstairs in the tv section. When Connie wasn’t sewing at her old factory Singer, she enjoyed knitting in her rocking chair while Vito liked a good doze in his overstuffed armchair. Seventeen-year-old Rosemarie loved her bean bag chair (a hideous thing!) and I got to be 13-year-old Nancy’s chair! I couldn’t have been happier and neither could she; it was a big step up from a bunch of pillows tossed on the floor! 

From my vantage point I could see everything that happened in the basement – Vito listening to opera, Connie frying her tantalizing meatballs every Sunday morning, the girls doing their homework at the kitchen table. I had a front row seat for every tv show the family watched. In fact, the only time Nancy didn’t sit on me with her legs comfortably stretched out was the time she sat on the floor five inches from the tv to watch the Beatles live on the Ed Sullivan Show. 

Oh, the memories! I snuck a peek when Rosemarie made out with her first boyfriend Billy Mack. I held back tears of pain when Connie meticulously stitched my torn seam. And I was the only one in the basement that morning when Nancy sat at the kitchen table one hour before her wedding in her gown dunking Oreos into a tall glass of milk! How I wish I had a picture of that! 

Then in 1977 the day came when the Schembres decided to move to a smaller house upstate. As a set, my parents, sister, brother and I were much too large for the new house and were placed on the curb for either someone to take home or to be picked up by the trash collectors. It was terrifying for me; the thought of going to strangers or being picked up for the trash was unbearable. At the last minute Nancy’s husband Bill picked me up and put me in their van. I was overjoyed to be going to live at Nancy’s house! I also overheard that one of Connie’s friends took the rest of my family for her son who had just gotten married and needed furniture. What could have been the worst day of my life turned into the best!

Now I have a really cool coat of soft blue leather and reside very comfortably in Nancy’s Beatles room. And Nancy spends hours sitting on me with her legs comfortably stretched out writing her stories. I tell you, dear Reader, things couldn’t be better! I’m so happy and I feel fine!

NAR © 2023

I hope you’ll stop by
In The Groove today.
I’ll be waiting for you!
https://rhythmsection.blog/

In The Groove

IN THE GROOVE (August 1, 2023)

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Today I am featuring works from the solo career of the extremely prolific Paul McCartney.

I’d like to share with you two McCartney songs which really impressed me. The first one is called “Don’t Let the Sun Catch You Crying” which is done very much in the style of a jazzy Billy Joel. This is NOT the Gerry and the Pacemakers’ hit we all know and love. Written in 1946 by Joe Greene, this number is included on the 1990 LP by McCartney called “Tripping the Live Fantastic.“

The second song is a piece entitled “Used To Be Bad” which harkens back to the sounds of The Steve Miller Band and ZZ Top (not surprising since it was co-written by McCartney and Miller). This one is a bluesy number which keeps going from start to finish and can be found on McCartney’s 1997 “Flaming Pie” LP. Upon its release, the time was ripe for McCartney to deliver an album steeped in Beatles lore and that’s exactly what he claimed “Flaming Pie” was all about. 

For your listening enjoyment, here now is the one and only Macca with two very different-sounding pieces.

So, what’d you think of the ex-Beatle turned jazzy blues piano man?

The only question for today is which one of these songs you liked the best.

I hope you enjoyed hearing a little Macca today; in all honesty, I’m really not a fan of Paul’s solo work but I did like these two. I’m casting my vote for the funky blues sound of “Used to Be Bad”.

Please join me next week for another edition of In The Groove. Enjoy the rest of your week and all the upcoming music here on The Rhythm Section!

See you on the flip side.

I am The Sicilian Storyteller

NAR © 2023

Uncategorized

THE FIRST TIME

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

The first time I felt my baby
move inside me,
I was in the bathtub.
I felt a tiny flutter in my belly
and thought “maybe”.
Then the water rippled
and my heart soared.
❤︎

NAR ©
34 words

Weekend Writing Prompt #322 – Flutter
Name That Tune, Sixties

NAME THAT TUNE (July 30, 2023)

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

It’s Sunday so that means you have another shot at seeing if you can decipher my clues and Name That Tune.

Are you ready to play? Ok, let’s get this thing going! Here are your five clues:

  1. According to the performer of today’s song, the title was derived from and inspired by a spiritual co-written by Sam Cooke.
  2. The song for today was featured in the 1986 film of the same name about a group of boys trying to find a friend who had gone missing.
  3. Our featured performer rose to prominence as one of the principal lead singers of the R&B vocal group The Drifters.
  4. This song has been covered numerous times, most notably by Otis Redding and John Lennon, but the recording today is the most popular version and the biggest hit.
  5. Today’s artist started his solo career in 1960; his first solo hit was “Spanish Harlem” and the following year he had a second hit with today’s song.

So, how’d you do? Do you think you know the name of the song and who performed it?

Let’s see if you’re right. Scroll down for the big reveal.

That’s right! The answer is “Stand By Me” by Ben E. King. Did you guess it? What was your “Aha!” moment?

Are you ready to hear the song and watch a little clip from the movie? Ok, let’s go!

What a great coming-of-age film! This movie, based on Stephen King’s novella “The Body”, was directed by Rob Reiner and starred Wil Wheaton, River Phoenix, Corey Feldman and Jerry O’Connell.

It’s great hearing these terrific songs, don’t you think? How many of you remember The Platters? I sure do and my favorite song by them is “Twilight Time”. Check it out next time you’re on YouTube.

Next week in this slot there will be a surprise post waiting for you. I have gladly forfeited my August 6 edition of Name That Tune for a special guest post …. our first here on The Rhythm Section. Please stay tuned for what I know will be a great addition to our site!

I hope you had fun with me today playing Name That Tune! Catch ya later, kids!

See you on the flip side.

I’m The Sicilian Storyteller

NAR © 2023

Uncategorized

CHASING DREAMS

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬
©Ayr/Gray

Everything was going fine until it wasn’t. Then Joe and Willie met – two guys down on their luck.

Willie grew up in the street, standing outside saloons dancing a jig just to earn a coin for something to eat. Some days he’d get tossed a fresh cigarette; he’d break it in half, smoke one piece first and save the other behind his ear for later. One odd job led to another but nothing steady and he’d move on, some bread and cheese in a sack over his shoulder.

Now Joe was a lucky SOB. Born in a brothel, all the ladies took him to their bosoms. By the time he was eight, he knew what was what. Life was good until the girls got sick and the house was shut down. Joe fell through the cracks. He found a bit of money, some jewelry and food left behind, placed it in a bag and took off.

Willie and Joe met while hopping freight trains and chasing their dreams. Willie was on the track to nowhere but Joe had his sights on California gold. By now Willie was sick … “consumption”, he said; Joe kept an eye on him. When you got only one friend in the world, that person means something.

They planned to hop the freight train heading west. Willie never made it, coughing to death one night in the train yard. Joe placed Willie’s hat over his face and ran for the biggest, fastest iron horse California bound.

NAR © 2023
250 words

The Unicorn Challenge – 29/07/23
Uncategorized

GRAMPS

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

“Now listen up, Pumpkin, and don’t turn around. As far as you’re concerned, I’m not here and we’re definitely not together.

We’ve been over and over this scenario two dozen times and I know you know it by heart, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned over a lifetime of grifting is if something can go wrong, it will. Best to be prepared for anything so let’s go over it one more time. Just give Gramps a yawn if you’re with me.“

*Yawn*

“That’s my girl. If there’s anything you don’t understand, give me a little cough. Now there’s a couple of good marks coming our way. They’re completely oblivious. I’m telling you, Pumpkin; people like this make my job easy as pie!

Ok, here’s the plan. I’m gonna start acting like I’m not feeling too good – chest pains or trouble breathing. I’ll probably slump over onto the bench; that’s always very effective. Don’t turn around if I do that, ok Pumpkin? I’m alright and it’s all for show, got it?”

*Yawn*

“Good girl! So once people notice I’m in distress, they’re gonna come over to see if they can help. They’re gonna be concentrating on me – not their stuff and definitely not you. When everyone is distracted, that’s your cue to act. Just slip your little hand into their pockets, their purses, their shopping bags. Do it smooth, feather-light and quick. Whatever you snatch, drop it into your shopping bag. Don’t be greedy and don’t stay too long. And don’t look at me, you hear?”

*Yawn*

“When you’re done, turn around and walk away – not too fast and not too slow. Just amble into the department store and go to our designated spot. Once I’ve reassured everyone that I’m ok – just a little asthma attack – and I don’t need an ambulance, I’ll come meet you. If anything, anything at all doesn’t feel right or things go wrong, ditch the plan. Forget about me. Just take your bag and walk away, got it?”

*Yawn*

“And one last thing, Pumpkin. Remember our pinky swear. Not one word of this to your mom and dad.”

*Yawn”

NAR © 2023

Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #229
Uncategorized

TO THE MOON, ALICE!

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Reposting this from 2021. Initially I thought it would be
a good companion piece for today’s “Moon River” post on
At The Movies in The Rhythm Section.
Then I saw Fandango’s comment when this was
originally published (see bottom) and I got all verklempt.
A giant ‘thank you’, Fan; it really is a fine little story,
isn’t it?
❤︎

For as long as I can remember my Uncle Bobby was my idol – the self-proclaimed “Poster Boy for Home Depot”. In fact, I can’t recall a time when he wasn’t fixing this or repairing that. He was the neighborhood handyman, the guy everyone called to replace a broken window or unclog their toilet. He could paint a room like nobody’s business, his cutting-in seams done to perfection without the use of that “sissy painter’s tape”. Yep, he was like a magician, my Uncle Bobby was, and I loved following him around on his odd jobs, delighting at his request for me to hand him a Phillips head screwdriver or a roll of duct tape. 

Uncle Bobby was a no-frills kind of guy; what you saw was what you got with him. He was my dad’s brother, living with us in the spare room of our old rambling Victorian house. He must have replaced just about every board of the huge porch that wrapped itself around the house. My mom would complain that the decking looked like a patchwork quilt with no two pieces of wood being exactly the same. Uncle Bobby would always say the same thing: “Don’t worry ‘bout nothing, Margie. They’ll all weather with age and you’ll never be able to tell ‘em apart.” But they never did and the porch truly looked like a jigsaw puzzle.

The biggest problem with Uncle Bobby was the fact that he couldn’t really fix anything that required true skill, like a washing machine or a radio or a power lawnmower. Whenever he attempted such jobs, he’d inevitably have a couple of pieces left over even after he finished putting the whole thing back together! He’d toss all the unused parts into a ten-gallon drum in our basement (which was also his workshop). Funny thing was everything he was asked to repair would work fine for a while, then breakdown after several days anyway. Uncle Bobby would explain that he “fixed the dang thing but it was just its time to go”. I think I was the only one who knew about his stash of leftover essential pieces which doubled in size on a weekly basis.

Truth was Uncle Bobby had more crap in our basement than Carter had liver pills and he was slowly but surely inching his way over to the cramped corner where my mom had her washing machine. She finally put her foot down one day and demanded he either clean up his crap or build a wall around her laundry area so she wouldn’t have to look at all his crap. Rather than clean up the place, Uncle Bobby built mom a wall. Even she had to admit it was the best looking wall she’d ever seen, with a door and everything!

Believe it or not, Uncle Bobby was a genuine ladies’ man and he “cleaned up real nice” as old Mrs. Jenkins liked to say. He’d wash up in the basement using Lava Soap, shave with menthol Barbasol and splash on the Aqua Velva then head out to Kelly’s Place for ribs and a few beers. All the girls liked Uncle Bobby but his favorites were the Andrews twins, Patty and Paula. They didn’t seem to mind the perpetual ring of dirt under Uncle Bobby’s fingernails; no matter how many times he washed his hands that grime stayed put. He said it was “the mark of a hard-working man”.

Uncle Bobby loved watching those old black and white tv shows like Flash Gordon, Superman and The Twilight Zone. He had a real fascination with outer space and anything that could fly. That’s probably why he loved “The Honeymooners” – that classic Jackie Gleason comedy show; he’d laugh his head off every time Ralph Kramden roared his trademark tagline “To the moon, Alice!”

I’ll never forget that one Christmas when I got a remote control airplane; I think Uncle Bobby spent more time playing with that damn thing than I did. He was happy as a pig in slop the day he found a used one at the church tag sale. He’d tinker with that thing every chance he could, making it fly higher and faster. He’d inevitably forget to include a piece or two which he’d just toss into that catch-all drum of his.

So one day out of nowhere right in the middle of dinner Uncle Bobby announced he had his mind set on building a rocket ship. Well, I think everyone thought it was an asinine idea except me and they all laughed it off as him just joking around as usual.  But I knew Uncle Bobby better than anyone and he was dead serious. He told me he was gonna use all the bits and pieces and spare parts he’d collected over the years. And what he didn’t have, he’d scavenge for in dumpsters, rubbish piles outside people’s houses or the garbage bins behind Home Depot. Those places were like a magical treasure trove for Uncle Bobby and he always came home with something. “You never know when this might come in handy” he’d declare, proudly showing me a discarded catalytic converter or a manual typewriter.

Well, true to his word Uncle Bobby started construction on his rocket ship the morning of April 1st and the neighbors howled that it was the perfect April Fool’s Day joke ever. But it wasn’t no joke to Uncle Bobby and he worked on that craft every day. He pitched a tent in the backyard, rolled out that giant ten-gallon drum and went at it like a man possessed. And I was his helper; my special assignment was to find him a really good helmet and a cooler which I filled with Hawaiian Punch, bologna sandwiches and Twinkies.

By July 4th Uncle Bobby’s rocket ship was finished. To be honest it looked like a pile of junk but he thought it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever made. He painted it red, white and blue and named it “Independence Day”. By now word had gotten out and the whole neighborhood was there to watch Uncle Bobby attempt to take off into the wild blue yonder. Sporting his best overalls and the cool viking helmet I found for him, he climbed in, waved goodbye and slammed the door shut. 

Well, the damn thing sputtered and smoked and made all kinds of weird noises but it suddenly started shaking and actually took off. It was kinda wobbly at first but it just kept on going higher and higher until it disappeared into the clouds. We all stood there with our jaws hanging open, expecting to see the ship come crashing down any second – but it didn’t. We stayed out there for a long time, then gave up and went inside thinking Uncle Bobby would probably just waltz back in when he was good and ready with some great adventure tales to tell.

Damn thing was, we never did see the rocket ship or Uncle Bobby again. Boy, I sure do miss him!

Here’s to you, Rocket Man! Hope you had a great journey, wherever you are. 🚀

Independence Day

NAR © 2021

Please join me today
At The Movies.
https://rhythmsection.blog/
At The Movies

AT THE MOVIES (July 27, 2023)

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Johnny Mercer and Henry Mancini wrote the song “Moon River” for Audrey Hepburn to sing in the 1961 film, “Breakfast At Tiffany’s”, based on Truman Capote’s novella of the same. The lyrics, written by Mercer, are reminiscent of his childhood in Savannah, Georgia, including its waterways. Mercer said that as a child, he picked huckleberries in the summer and he connected them with his carefree childhood and Mark Twain’s Huckleberry Finn. You can imagine Johnny Mercer’s memories in this enchanting song.

In the movie “Breakfast At Tiffany’s”, Holly Golightly (Audrey Hepburn) is a deliciously eccentric New York City playgirl determined to marry a Brazilian millionaire. George Peppard plays her next-door neighbor, a writer who is “sponsored” by 2-E, a wealthy older woman who lives in the same building and is known only by her apartment number.

Guessing who’s the right man for Holly is easy. Seeing just how that romance blossoms is one of the enduring delights of this charming movie.

Singer Andy Williams splendidly crooned his way through the brilliant Oscar-winning Mancini/Mercer theme song. Let’s all relax and enjoy the smooth tones of Andy Williams singing “Moon River”.

There’s a new beautiful rendition of “Moon River” by Eric Clapton and Jeff Beck which Nick played for us a couple of weeks ago; I thought it would be fun to play it again today. Which one gets your vote – Andy or Eric & Jeff? Please share your comments with us.

I do love Andy Williams’ version but I can’t resist a good axe man … and here we have two in Clapton and Beck! What do you think?

Thanks for joining me today for a peek at this captivating film and a listen to this beautiful song. See you again next week.

Tomorrow is Friday so you know what that means: Nick is in the house and he’s breaking boundaries!

See you on the flip side.

I’m The Sicilian Storyteller

NAR © 2023

Uncategorized

MINDGAMES

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

It’s time for another Sixer, courtesy of Denise at GirlieOnTheEdge.

“Melt away the fears and anxieties in your mind, feel them liquify and allow them to slowly trickle down your face and relax as tiny rivulets flow down your neck, shoulders, back, thighs, legs and finally your feet where they silently fall off the grid into the ‘Well of Anxiety and Panic’; keeping your eyes closed, cover the well, lock it in place trapping your anxieties inside, inhale, exhale, open your eyes and allow the calmness and peace to envelop you.”  

After six long months of listening to my therapist repeat the same litany in her soft, sing-song voice, one would think I was well on my way to living a life free of worry, what-if scenarios, anxiety, panic attacks and Xanax.

Oh, I have my times of quiet lucidity … weeks of stress-free bliss when I can enjoy a lovely dinner with my husband or a carefree shopping trip in Manhattan, nights when I fall asleep quickly and easily and wake up refreshed and at peace.  

Then just as I’m getting used to this ineffable comfort zone … WHAM BAM THANK YOU MA’AM!! … the panic machine is back with a vengeance, coming out of nowhere with all the subtlety of an 18 wheeler, taking over my life for hours upon days upon weeks only to suddenly, spontaneously run out of gas and coast away down the road leaving me in a safe haven until it reaches a rest stop where it can take a break and refill its gas tank for the next assault; it’s a cesspool of what-the-fuckedness, the grasping, squeezing dragging down quicksand of fuckedupedness! 

Some Einstein once said “The intuitive mind is a sacred gift; the rational mind is a faithful servant.” 

MIND – Noun: a beautiful servant; a dangerous master. 

NAR © 2023

Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt!

Uncategorized

THE THRILL OF IT ALL

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Ooh! Keep the kiddies out of the room!
Someone’s doing a naughty two-fer!
🙈 🙉 🙊

Lil was always a rebel,
A renegade, if you will.
She liked to go commando;
It gave her such a thrill!

She loved that airy feeling
In her girly parts.
Proper folk would always say
“She’s one of those naughty tarts!”

Lil was just a free spirit,
Always looking for fun.
She was a wild child
With no panties on her bum.

Now don’t you dilly dally.
Don’t you ever forget.
Lil doesn’t approve of wasting time,
Especially in the toilet!

NAR © 2023
81 words

Weekend Writing Prompt #321 – Renegade
FOWC with Fandango — Toilet
Uncategorized

SELF-PRESERVATION

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

“’Settlers or Sellers’, that antiques show is coming on. Wanna watch, Doug?”

Just then the phone rang. It’s our daughter Chrissy talking about how tomorrow’s going to be a gorgeous day and our five grandkids really want us to go to the beach with them. 

“Ok, honey. Sounds wonderful. We’ll see you in the morning. Yes, we’re looking forward to it.” 

Doug, who had been happily watching “Seinfeld”, was now sitting imperially on the edge of the couch scowling at me. 

“What was that remark ‘’we’ll see you in the morning’’? I don’t know about you, Helen, but the only people I’ll be seeing in the morning are my golf buddies. We’re going to rent a couple of carts, play 18 holes, drink martinis with lunch, talk sports and smoke cigars. I’m begging you, Helen. Don’t take my day away!” 

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic! You can play golf any day. When do we get to go to the beach with the kids.” 

“As infrequently as possible!” Doug groused. “And I’d like to keep it that way.” 

“Oh, come on! Summer’s almost over and the kids are so looking forward to a day with us.” 

“And I’m looking forward to seeing my buddies! We’ve had this outing planned for two weeks. Helen, must I remind you what hell it is going to the beach with the kids?” 

“Doug, you’re making it sound horrible.” 

“Helen, my love, it is horrible! We’ve been to the beach with the kids exactly three times. Do you know why? Because it’s HELL!” 

“But Doug, I hate to disappoint them.” 

“And that, my dear, is your Achilles Heel. We start off excited for a great beach day and within an hour it turns into hell. Chrissy brings so much stuff we’re like the Israelites crossing the desert. Who complains the sand is too hot?  Who needs a diaper change? Who drops their lunch in the sand? Who fights over the sand toys? Before you know it, everyone’s crying, they want to go home and our wonderful day at the beach is kaput.” 

“And you’re the one crying the loudest, Doug” I laughed. 

“Damn right I am, woman.  It’s a nightmare and you know it! Listen, why don’t I call the guys and suggest our lovely wives join us tomorrow? You haven’t played in months. How about it?”  

The idea was very appealing. “Doug, do they still serve those delicious Celtic Guey Cocktails and Waldorf salads?” 

“You bet they do! I know they’re you’re favorites. What do you say? Are we on?” 

“Yes! We certainly are on! You call the guys and I’ll call Chrissy. I hope the kids aren’t too disappointed.” 

Doug kissed the top of my head. “Honey, it may not seem like it now but you’re doing us all a favor. The kids will be just fine – and so will we. Now call Chrissy.” 

Feeling just a wee bit guilty, I dialed Chrissy’s number. 

“Chrissy, sweetheart. About tomorrow. So sorry to disappoint but your dad just reminded me ……”

NAR © 2023

Come on over today to
In The Groove
for more summertime fun!
https://rhythmsection.blog/

In The Groove

IN THE GROOVE (July 25, 2023)

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Do you think Janis Joplin ever once contemplated the possibility that 53 years after her death people like me would be writing about her and millions more would be listening to her music? It seems highly unlikely to me yet here we are.

Janis was a loner, a misfit who marched to the beat of her own drum. As a teenager, she befriended a group of outcasts, one of whom had albums by blues artists Bessie Smith, Ma Rainey and Lead Belly which she later credited with influencing her decision to become a singer.

In 1966, Joplin’s bluesy vocal style attracted the attention of the San Francisco-based psychedelic rock band Big Brother and the Holding Company which had gained some renown among the hippie community of Haight Ashbury; she was recruited to join the group.

And the rest is history.

I was fortunate to see Janis Joplin perform in person several times; it’s difficult to compare her to any other performer I’ve ever seen; she was two different people when on stage. She had a powerful and commanding voice. She was focused and uninhibited. She was a dynamic force to be reckoned with. But when her song was over she was transformed into a little girl who was surprised and delighted that people liked her and her songs. For a few seconds “Pearl” was gone … the nickname Joplin gave herself for the hard-talking, ballsy barfly image she so often took on as her protective strategy against feeling vulnerable … and Janis was back.

As many of us are now going through the dog days of Summer, I thought it would be appropriate to play Janis Joplin’s well-known interpretation of George Gershwin’s “Summertime” from “Porgy and Bess”. Let’s listen.

Another lost soul searching for answers. As always, I’m happy to read your comments so please share your thoughts.

Thanks for spending this dog day afternoon of summer with me getting your groove on. I look forward to catching up with you next week. Until then, let’s just call it a wrap.

Peace out. ✌🏼

See you on the flip side.

I’m The Sicilian Storyteller

NAR © 2023

Uncategorized

GROUNDED

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Two for the price of one:
Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge
and
Fandango’s Story Starter.
Can you do the Fandango?

“What in the world could have possessed you to do what you did?” she asked.

That was my mother talking … or perhaps I should say “yelling”. And she had every right to yell because I had once again done something stupid. Yes, it was an accident but if I had listened to my mother in the first place this never would have happened.

It all started when I asked my mother if I could borrow her red nail polish to paint my nails for the pool party at my friend Tina’s house. Mom was ok with me borrowing her polish but gave me strict orders to apply it in the bathroom or the kitchen. If I spilled the polish, cleanup would be easy. I was absolutely forbidden to do my nails in my bedroom or the living room; both rooms had wall-to-wall carpeting and any spills or even a drip could spell catastrophe.

So what did I do?

Well, I had to call Tina with a very important question about the pool party and the only phone in the house was in the living room so I sat on the floor and began to polish my toenails while talking on the phone. Have you ever tried to balance a phone receiver with a 3 foot cord attached between your shoulder and ear while trying to do something else with your hands? Take my word for it; it’s not easy.

Now, I’m not exactly sure how it happened but the cord yanked the phone receiver off my shoulder and, in my attempt to catch it, I knocked over the bottle of my mother’s red nail polish … right on the plush white living room carpet.

I watched in slow-motion horror as the bright red polish oozed out of the bottle and was immediately soaked up by the carpet like a sponge. When I came to my senses, I grabbed the bottle and ran into the bathroom, all the while crying “Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!” I seized the nail polish remover and a rag and ran back to the scene of the crime. I applied the polish remover to the rag and began dabbing at the spill. While I was able to remove some of the polish, it wasn’t enough and I sat there helplessly staring at a 2” diameter patch of drying redish-pink carpet. The topic of getting dried nail polish out of carpeting was never discussed and back then we didn’t have the web to look things up.

The one good thing about this incident was my parents were not home at the time. I ran into the laundry room and gathered an arsenal of cleaning supplies: a scrub brush, detergent, spray cleaner, bleach, scouring powder, rags and a bucket of water. The combination of products and the use of the scrub brush only made matters worse. The 2” spot was now much bigger and pieces of the thick pile had come out. That area of mother’s expensive wall-to-wall carpeting now resembled a man’s balding head. It was a mess and I was up the creek.

So I did the only logical thing. I moved the coffee table about 8” to “hide” the damage. There! From where I stood the problem was solved and no one would be the wiser.

Or so I thought.

I was about to exit via the back door for Tina’s pool party when my parents came home. I heard my mother before I saw her. In fact, I think the entire neighborhood heard her:

“Nancy Ann Schembre! Get in here this second!
What part of ‘do not use nail polish in the living room’
did you not understand?
You deliberately ignored what I said, just like you always do,
and now my carpet is ruined!
Do you think I talk just to hear the sound of my own voice?
No pool party for you, young lady.
You’re grounded for the rest of the summer!”

I stood there unable to move, staring at my mother in disbelief. Grounded again … and this time for the rest of the summer! My life was over!

With head hung low I sniffled an apology and skulked back to my room but I had a plan. Instead of going to my room, I tiptoed down the stairs to the basement and headed for the back door to make my escape. My hand was on the doorknob when I heard a voice from upstairs.

“Where do you think you’re going? I said you were grounded!”

“Oh, man! You’re upstairs! You can’t even see me! How’d you know?”

“Because I know YOU!”

Then came the line that gave me the creeps every time I heard it:

“Besides, I’ve got eyes in the back of my head!”

NAR © 2023

Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #228
Fandango’s Story Starter #106
Uncategorized

DAMNED IF I DO

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

It’s been so damn hot and humid, I’ve had it! It’s like a sauna and the moment I step outside I begin to wilt. My clothes stick to me and even wearing a sundress is uncomfortable. I need to take a cool shower when I wake up and again at the end of the day. The AC is cranked up to the max and I’ve lost my appetite except for ice cream and a tall cold drink. It’s even too hot to go to the beach or pool and sitting under an umbrella doesn’t help much. There’s no breeze and the air is too still to breath; I feel like I am sweltering and my lungs are searing. I swear if this keeps up I’m going to melt away like an ice cube! I can’t stand it any longer. All I do is complain about the heat! I can’t wait for the winter.

It would be heavenly to jump into a hole in a frozen lake and take a dip in the cold refreshing water!

But being cold can really be very uncomfortable! It’s awful to step outside every day and feel the chill slap me in the face. Sometimes the wind whips right through me and I can’t get warm no matter how many layers of clothes I have on. Break out the boots, scarves, hats, gloves and heavy jackets. And don’t forget the snow storms and the shoveling. It takes forever for my car to heat up and I have to keep the heat on at home all the time, too. All I want to do is take a hot bath, eat chicken noodle soup, drink hot tea and jump into a warm bed. Sometimes it’s so cold I have to sleep under an electric blanket and I still feel chilly! My fingers and toes turn blue and I can hardly feel them. And I always have the sniffles! I swear if this keeps up I’m going to turn into an ice cube! I can’t stand it any longer. All I do is complain about the cold! I can’t wait for the summer.

Damned if I do, damned if I don’t!

NAR © 2023
365 words

Simply 6 Minutes – Welcome to the Challenge: 07/18/2023
Uncategorized

RSVP

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

“Why don’t you invite Tony Bennett to the wedding?”

That’s something you might expect to hear Barbra Streisand or Billy Joel say – certainly not me! But I did make that suggestion and here’s how it all came about.

It was probably around 2004 when my son, Bill, first met Tony Bennett. I say “first” because Bill had the pleasure of working with Tony numerous times … at the tree lighting ceremony at Rockefeller Center, the Grammy Awards and other gigs.

You see, Bill’s been a teleprompter for a lot of years; he’s had the great opportunity of working with celebrities ranging from Paul McCartney to Big Bird. His jobs are as varied as crayons in a jumbo Crayola box and just as colorful. I’m not going to bore you with names but the list is impressive. That’s how Bill met Tony.

These gigs – many of which are live – don’t happen in just one take. The crew and the performers (or “talent”, as they’re known in the business) can wind up spending a great deal of time on the set. Some talent remain aloof; others, like Tony Bennett, are the type to pull up a chair in the lounge and eat lunch with the crew.

Now I don’t want to brag but I raised a good son. Bill is a hard worker, agreeable, unassuming, pleasant, attractive and funny. Tony and Bill enjoyed working with each other very much – so much so that when Tony was asked to perform at the tree lighting again the following year, he requesting my son by name.

During down time at a rehearsal in 2007, Bill was talking about his upcoming wedding and Tony happened to be within earshot. He came over to congratulate Bill and they talked about “things” for a while. Tony wished Bill “a happy life”, shook his hand and that was that – until I found out about it that night. And I said what any mom would say:

“Why don’t you invite Tony Bennett to the wedding? He just might say ‘yes’.”

I gave Bill an invitation for him to give Tony the next day. He took it and placed it in his backpack. Well, let’s just say my son is a bit more circumspect than me; he opted not to impose on Tony and did not extend the invitation. I was a bit bummed out but it was Bill’s decision to make, not mine.

Still … can you just imagine what a gas it would have been if Tony Bennett had come to my son’s wedding?

NAR © 2023

Uncategorized

ECHOES

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬
© Ayr/Gray

It had been quite a long while since Celia had taken a vacation. Now here she was, hiking the Appalachian Trail; it was the perfect get-away. The day was gorgeous and Celia was surprised to find she had the trail to herself. After about 90 minutes she came upon a split in the path. Placing her backpack on the ground, she pulled out a map and leaned against a tree. Suddenly there was a startling crack as the tree snapped in half. The ground beneath her gave out and she plummeted off the edge.

Celia had no idea how far she’d fallen or where she was. She called out but all she heard were her echoes. Celia was pretty badly bruised but she didn’t think anything was broken. It was a struggle but she made it to her feet; it was then she realized she didn’t have her backpack which meant no food, no water, no bandages and no phone. Her only choice was to keep going.

She must have walked for miles. Exhausted, lost, Celia fell to her knees, sobbing. She squinted through her tears and could barely make out the shape of a cabin. Was it real? Was she hallucinating? Slowly she pulled herself up and trudged toward the building, praying it was not an illusion.

There were no lights, no signs of life. Raising her arm to bang on the door, it suddenly flew open and Celia was pulled into blackness. That’s the last thing she remembered.

NAR © 2023
250 words

The Unicorn Challenge – 21/07/23
Uncategorized

UNDER THE BAEL TREE

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬
© Amanda Forestwood

Kabir and Deepak sat under a bael tree taking a break from the heat of the afternoon sun. They shared an aloo toast sandwich while keeping watch over their rickshaws, Deepak smiling and contented, Kabir scowling and dejected.

“What is your problem, Kabir?” asked Deepak. “You never seem happy nor do you have anything cheerful to say. You do not talk about your children and how they are doing in school nor do you discuss how things are with your wife.”

“We are struggling day after day, Deepak. Nothing positive ever happens. There are bills and rent to pay. Now my wife just told me she is expecting another child!”

“Congratulations, my friend! Another child! How can you say nothing positive ever happens? This is a blessing for you and your wife!”

“You think so, Deepak, when we can barely feed the three children we already have? Now my wife will be unable to work and I will be the only wage earner in the family. My pockets are empty and I will have to work even more hours!”

The two men ate in silence for a while, then Deepak spoke. “Kabir, we have known each other all our lives. We are like brothers so I am going to speak plainly to you. How we greet each new day shows clearly on our faces. If you are negative and always feel you deserve more in life, that is the first thing people see. When your wife told you she was expecting a baby, did you embrace her and tell her how happy you were? Did you share this joy with your other children? I can see by the look on your face that you did not. Why, Kabir?”

Kabir hesitated for a moment. “Deepak, it’s true we are like brothers but you have never had to scrimp and save for the things in your life. Your children are happy and do well in school while mine are sullen. Your wife is content and radiates joy while mine is depressed. Do not try to tell me we are the same when we have been dealt a very different lot in life.”

At this Deepak became angry. “Kabir, you are a fool! Do you think I haven’t had to work for what I have? How our children grow and behave is a direct reflection of us and how we behave. How our wives feel is directly based on how we feel. If we are sullen, our home will be bleak and if we are optimistic, our home will be cheerful. Together my wife and I pledge to make the best of every day. Nothing good comes without effort.”

Having said that, Deepak stood to leave. “Kabir, it is never too late. You still have time to turn things around. May your life always be full and blessed and may your rickshaw … and your pockets … never be empty.”

Kabir sat alone under the bael tree thinking what a camel’s ass he had been. The passengers will still be here one hour from now; first he needed to go home and embrace his wife.

NAR © 2023

21 July 2023
Uncategorized

THE WORLD IS YOUR OYSTER

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

A repost of a little vignette written exactly
two years ago today which many of my
newer readers have never seen.
This has always been a favorite of mine;
I hope you enjoy it, too.

“Cloak and Dagger and a dozen oysters on ice” was the order placed by a hauntingly familiar voice in the corner.

Her interest piqued, Judy Lowe leaned in a bit to get a better look. Where had she heard that voice before? Finding it a little too dim to see, she decided to go over and check out the situation. Taking her Bloody Mary with her, Judy casually strolled to the end of the bar and wriggled her curvaceous bottom onto the stool.

“Pardonne-moi” Judy cooed. “The name of your drink is tres intriguing.” The man was older than Judy expected but extremely handsome with silver hair and a rich tan. “Has anyone ever mentioned you look like Cary Grant?” she asked smiling flirtatiously.

“Never” he replied in a clipped Bristol accent as he gazed appreciatively at Judy’s decolletage. “Ah, yes. The Cloak and Dagger: the perfect blend of Blackwoods Gin from the Shetland Islands, fresh lime juice, simple syrup, green chartreuse and Extra Brut sparkling wine. It’s the quintessential pairing with oysters.

“Oh my. That sounds luscious! I’m Judy Lowe, a model from Los Angeles. And you are?”

“Enchanté, Judy. My friends call me Archie” and he gently kissed the palm of her hand.

Judy gasped; no man had ever kissed the delicate flesh of her palm. It was so European and sensual.

“Archie, would you mind terribly if I had a little sip of your Cloak and Dagger?” Judy asked. ‘A friend of the male persuasion once told me the perfect drink with oysters is a Bloody Mary and I’d like to see who’s right.”

“Oh Judy, Judy, Judy! Whoever told you that was obviously terribly misinformed or an uneducated boor” Archie teased. “No, you may not have a sip of my drink; you shall have your very own. Barkeep! Please prepare a perfect Cloak and Dagger for the lovely Judy Lowe, a model from Los Angeles.”

When the bartender set the drink before Judy, she clapped her hands in glee like a little girl and reached for the glass but Archie stopped her.

“Oh, no, my dear. This must be done right! It’s a process. First slide the oyster into your mouth and savor the taste. Delight in the pleasure; it should never be rushed. Now, follow with a sip of the Cloak and Dagger and let the juices mingle. That’s a good girl. Now swallow.”

Judy was in ecstasy. Never had she experienced anything so erotic. “Oh my God, Archie! That was beyond heavenly.”

“Let’s raise our glasses, lovely Judy, to the noble oyster and the Cloak and Dagger. May they be forever immortalized as the true nectar of the gods!”

Archie stood and kissed Judy’s palm. “And now, my dear, I must bid you adieu.” He flipped his hat onto his head, tapped the brim and left.

When Judy came back down to earth she discovered a folded piece of paper in her hand. Gently she peeled back the corners to find it was a cocktail napkin on which was scribbled: “Dearest Judy: The world is your oyster. Always, Cary.”

Judy slowly exhaled. “Well, I’ll be damned!”

Archie aka
Cary Grant

NAR © 2021

Won’t you meet me today
At The Movies?
I’ll save you a seat.
https://rhythmsection.blog/

At The Movies

AT THE MOVIES (July 20, 2023)

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Cole Porter is one of Americas most renown songwriters and composers; his song “Night and Day” is perhaps the most popular contribution to the Great American Songbook. It was originally written for the 1932 musical “The Gay Divorcee” and has since been recorded by countless performers.

The film “Night and Day” is the 1946 biographical musical starring Cary Grant in a fictionalized account of the life of Cole Porter. In addition to the previously mentioned song of the same name, “Night and Day” features several of the best-known Porter songs, including “Begin the Beguine”, “In The Still of the Night”, “I’ve Got You Under My Skin”, “I Get a Kick Out of You” and many more. Producer Jack Warner paid $300,000 for the rights to the songs.

The scriptwriters knew that the film would need to be fictionalized; Cole Porter not only lacked the “rags-to-riches” biographical storyline that audiences embraced but, more importantly, because he was gay; depictions of homosexuality were prohibited by the film industry’s Production Code.  

Cary Grant sings several of the songs which made “Night and Day” the closest he came to making a musical; while he is one of our best known and beloved actors, Cary Grant was definitely not famous for his singing.

Today I’m going to be ‘breaking boundaries’ by stealing a page out of Nick’s playbook and featuring Cole Porter himself performing his classic “Night and Day”.

For me, there’s something magical about hearing the great composers such as Cole Porter, George Gershwin, Scott Joplin, Irving Berlin, etc., performing their own pieces; it gives me a thrill to hear them, knowing I’m in listening to greatness.

I could have chosen any one of the many famous singers who recorded “Night and Day” for today’s post. Perhaps there’s another version/performer you consider your favorite and would like to share it with us today. Please do so; I love to read your comments.

That’s a wrap, kids. I’ll be back next week with more great music from the movies. Don’t forget Nick will be breaking boundaries once again tomorrow; please be sure to check him out.

See you on the flip side.

I’m The Sicilian Storyteller

NAR © 2023

Uncategorized

HIS WHITE COLLAR JOB

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

A solitary man sat huddled in the corner of the church pew, thinking, praying, pondering his next move, occasionally glancing at the little light above the confessional door indicating that a priest was available to listen, to advise, to absolve; rubbing his chafed neck, the man looked down at his Roman collar now resting on the pew next to him, as he contemplated how many years it had been since his ordination, how many baptisms he had performed, weddings he had celebrated, funerals he had officiated – more than he could count. 

He was a good priest – some might even say excellent – not perfect by any stretch but he was no thief, no murderer and the rights certainly outweighed the wrongs – all except THIS wrong; no one knew his secret so who was he hurting, he asked himself endless times, always able to justify his actions for even Jesus said that the sins of the flesh were human and the easiest to forgive. 

They were friends and saw each other every day at the hospital where they both worked – she as a nurse and he as a chaplain – respected, trusted and admired by staff and patients alike for she possessed an amazing ability to calm the fears of the sick and console the grief-stricken and he to provide solace in the form of prayer to the heavy-hearted and forlorn, to offer hope to the hopeless, to lay his hands on those in the throes of death and perform last rights when the end was upon them.

They told themselves they were drawn together by their mutual empathy for the suffering, which was true at first, but now the unthinkable had happened – they had become lovers, adulterers, for he was married to the church and she was married to his best friend; he was happiest when he was with her and yet this wrong which felt so right was eating him alive. 

He glanced up again to see the little light was still burning brightly – a beacon to him in his bleakness – and he knew the three lonely choices before him: confess his sins, beg forgiveness and give her up, go on living a lie and continue their affair or abandon his beloved church not knowing if she would leave her husband for him; whatever his decision, the toll would be unbearable. 

Making the sign of the cross, he rose and slowly walked toward the confessional, steeling himself as he reached out for the handle of the confessional booth but at that exact moment when he looked up, the little light had been switched off; knowing he missed his chance at forgiveness, he was despondent, his head hanging, tears falling as he turned and disappeared into the blackness of the night. 

NAR © 2023

Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt!
Uncategorized

PAPA-LOGIC

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬
Dad, circa 1946

In 1930 at the age of 15 my dad emigrated to the U.S. from Sicily. He spoke no English, had very little money and knew a bit about barbering. He settled in Brooklyn, moving in with friends from his hometown in Sicily, but Dad couldn’t live off the kindness of his friends forever; he needed to find work. Fortunately his friend knew of a barber who was looking for help so Dad applied for the job and started work the next day.

Every morning Dad would show up at the barber shop with a copy of the Italian newspaper, Il Progresso, under his arm. This went on for a week or so until one day his boss said to him in Italian “Hey, Vito. If you want to learn how to speak English, do yourself a favor and stop buying that newspaper. Instead, buy the New York Times and read it every day.” My dad took that advice to heart and began reading the paper from front to back; sounding out the words he read and dealing with some English-speaking customers is how be became fluent in English. It wasn’t easy but he stuck with it. He was a self-taught man and after a few years he had just a trace of an accent. I give my dad a lot of credit for that.

My parents were introduced by mutual friends and married in 1939; their first baby, a son named Frank, developed nephritis and tragically passed away in 1943 at the age of two. As soon as the death certificate was filed, Dad was drafted. He served his entire tour of duty overseas, something he never liked to talk about. The one thing I do know about Dad’s army days was that he fought in the Battle of the Bulge.

After Dad returned from the war, my sister and I were born and we moved into a new house in The Bronx with my maternal grandparents. During the first few years living there, we had fresh Italian products delivered, including olive oil imported from Sicily. Dad was jealous of the handsome salesman and demanded my mom stop all deliveries. Mom was a beautiful woman and men were naturally attracted to her but she never gave them the time of day. She wasn’t a flirt and the thought of cheating on my dad never crossed her mind; killing him, yes, but cheating on him? Never!

Our family was very musical; we all sang, my sister and I played the piano and Dad played the mandolin. He shocked us by auditioning for our church’s production of The Mikado – and he landed the role! What a riot seeing this mustachioed Sicilian gent made up to look Japanese wearing an authentic kimono and singing Gilbert and Sullivan patter songs. He was the hit of the show!

In 1965 we went to Sicily to visit family. One day my parents went out shopping while my sister and I stayed behind with our cousins. When they returned, my dad had a gift for me – my first Italian rock & roll record, a hit called “Ho Rimasto” (“I Stayed”). Dad hated rock and roll so in my eyes this was just about the coolest thing he ever did!

Years later, when my sister and I had kids, they started calling my dad “Papa”. Dad was always coming up with corny jokes or comments which soon became known as “Papa-Logic”. We’d roll our eyes when he would intentionally order an “Al Pacino” instead of a cappuccino. Dad loved being controversial, too, and took great pride in getting his point across. I remember one day he saw a sign in a pizzeria window which read “WE HAVE THE BEST PIZZA IN TOWN!” Nothing wrong with that, right? Well, Dad felt differently and made no bones about it. He started a heated discussion with the pizzeria owner, demanding that the sign be changed to read “WE THINK WE HAVE THE BEST PIZZA IN TOWN!” Dad wouldn’t back down and the sign remained unchanged. And to make matters worse, he was banned from the pizzeria!

Times were rough in the early days; my parents struggled just like all young couples and faced more than their share of sorrow. They worked hard and saved their money, always putting the needs of family first. We weren’t rich but we had everything we needed.

My dad was a good guy; even though he could get on our nerves big time, he had a heart of gold. He adored his family and loved everything about being Sicilian. Still, one of his proudest accomplishments in life was the day he did the New York Times crossword puzzle – in ink!

We celebrated Dad’s birthday the other day; these are just a few of my memories.

“Ciao, papa! Buon compleanno! Ti voglio bene.”

 NAR © 2023
Orig. Pub. 2021

Mom & Dad, 1939, Bermuda honeymoon
Dad with Baby Frank, 1942

Dad’s super-cool gift to me – Italian rock & roll!

I hope you’ll join me today
In The Groove
for more music
Italian style!
https://rhythmsection.blog/

Fifties, In The Groove

IN THE GROOVE (July 18, 2023)

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Ciao! Welcome back to In The Groove.

We celebrated my Dad’s birthday the other day. He was born 108 years ago in the town of Cattolica Eraclea in the Province of Agrigento in Sicily. Dad was incredibly proud of his heritage and instilled that pride in me. He loved music, mostly Italian opera, traditional Italian songs and American standards; there was always something playing on our radio or stereo.

Well, Dad’s been gone almost 25 years (d. August 1, 1998), but I can still hear him singing along to this song.

Happy Birthday, Dad! This one’s for you!

This is Domenico Modugno singing his Grammy Award-winning song from 1958, “Volare”.

Now that’s singing with heart and soul. As my dad would say, “Perfetto!”  

If you’d like to know more about Domenico Modugno or “Volare”, all the facts are available on Wikipedia, but don’t look anything up until after you’ve read the question of the day.

This is for you trivia buffs or Baby Boomers out there. Let’s see what you got!

In 1960 an 18-year-old out of Philadelphia had a HUGE hit with “Volare”. Can you name this famous Philadelphian?

As usual, the answer is given below and this time there’s a bonus video.

I hope you enjoyed my little trip down memory lane. Deb’s flying in tomorrow; who knows where’s she’s going to land this time? Stay tuned!

“Arrivederci!”

See you on the flip side.

I’m the Sicilian Storyteller

NAR © 2023

And the answer is ….. Bobby Rydell

Shall we have a listen to one of the best set of pipes to come out of Philly? Here is Bobby Rydell singing his version of “Volare”; I know which one my dad preferred. How about you?

Uncategorized

RETRIBUTION

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

A hat trick today:
Fandango’s Story Starter,
Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Prompt
and
Linda G. Hill’s Stream of Consciousness.
Uno, due, tre and away we go!

Unlocking the door as quietly as I could, I slipped into the dark kitchen when my wife suddenly flicked on the lights, temporarily blinding me.

Quickly turning, I crashed into the refrigerator, breaking my nose. I fell to the floor, nose hemorrhaging, badly spraining my neck, wrist and ankle.

I sat there dejected, in agony.

My wife shrieked “Four nights this week. That’s a record! You’re outta here, you SOB!”

NAR © 2023
70 words exactly

https://fivedotoh.com/2023/07/11/fandangos-story-starter-105/
Weekend Writing Prompt #320 – Dejected
The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS July 15, 2023
Uncategorized

RAINY DAYS

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Yes, indeed, my lovelies! Just in time for another Unicorn Challenge!

© Ayr/Gray

Oh Mommy! Oh Mommy! Come quickly! Come quick!
Something has happened to poor Mr. Chick.
Oh, what is amiss? Can my best friend be sick?
He’s scrawny and thin as a tall candlestick!

Oh Mommy! Oh Mommy! His neck is all hunched
and his beak is a-gape, as if searching for lunch.
Perhaps I should give him something to munch
and something to drink. A tasty fruit punch!

Oh Mommy! Oh Mommy! His feathers are gone!
His wings are a-hanging and bare to the bone.
Whatever it is it’s so terribly wrong!
I’ll help him feel better by singing a song!

Oh Mommy! Oh Mommy! Come look at his seat!
It’s shrunken right up and so have his feet!
I think I should give him something to eat
to revive and cheer him and make him go “tweet”.

Now come here, my child, and sit by my side.
Hear all Mommy’s words and do not try to hide.
There will be no more playing or hitching a ride
for your dear Mr. Chick, oh most sadly, has died.

Come now, my dear child. Be brave and don’t cry;
I am going to tell you what happened and why.
Remember the Monday when the sun left the sky?
The rains came a-heavy and Chick could not fly.

Dear child, be happy and hear what I say:
Chick has transformed to spread joy every day!
Now people are flocking from miles away
to see our grand statue standing proud on display!

NAR © 2023
250 words

The Unicorn Challenge – 14/07/23
Uncategorized

BROKEN WINGS

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Upon finding a dead sparrow in our yard,
my toddler granddaughter pleaded to
bring it back to life.

Her first real heartbreak.

NAR © 2023
22 required words

Authors Note: If a person comes across a dead sparrow, it could mean the loss of freedom, innocence or something personal in one’s life. However, this loss could also indicate that a new beginning is coming for that person.

Weekend Writing Prompt #319 – Sparrow
Uncategorized

TENDER LOVING CARE

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

“Summer Breeze. I’ll be damned! Dad loved that boat so much! How’d you end up with that old painting anyway, sis?” Jenny reached for the glass of wine her sister offered her; it had been ages since they had a chance to get together and catch up.

“Mom put it out with the trash after Dad died. She hated that boat, you know. Don’t ask me why but on an impulse I took it out of the trash when Mom couldn’t see. I never told you that story?” Missy asked Jenny, peering over the rim of her wine glass.

“Are you serious, Missy? I’m pretty sure I would have remembered that story. Did Mom ever find out about the painting?” Jenny asked Missy.

“No. She died before Sam and I bought this place. The painting’s been hanging over the fireplace since the day we moved in.” 

“We sure spent a lot of time with Dad on that boat, didn’t we, Missy? Too bad Mom was never there with us.”

Missy stared at her sister. “You know, Mom would have been on the Summer Breeze with us if she didn’t get so damn seasick. I remember how she begged Dad to get an RV instead of a boat but he was adamant. ‘I’m alive on the water’, he’d say. ‘The girls and I will sail down to The Keys while you tend to the garden and write your stories. It’s a win/win for everyone!’‘ Missy imitated her father’s bombastic way of talking.

“Adamant and dismissive! He definitely showed that boat more TLC than he ever showed Mom” Jenny said, a bit of anger tinging her voice.

“I wonder if she was sad being alone so much.” Missy thought aloud and the two sisters sat quietly sipping their wine, lost in thought.

“OK, enough of this talk, Jen! It’s bumming me out! I’ve got a project I’ve been putting off for a while. How about giving me a hand?” Missy asked, refilling her sister’s glass.

Jenny laughed. “Sure! Just keep the wine coming, sis.”

“Great. Can you take the painting of the Summer Breeze off the wall? There’s a step ladder in the kitchen closet. I’ll be right back.”

Missy returned carrying some tools and a new picture frame. “Sid and I picked up this frame in Nantucket two years ago. I think it’s perfect for the Summer Breeze.”

Jenny laid the painting face down on the table and the two sisters began carefully removing it from the original frame. Once it was out of the frame, the cardboard covering the back of the painting fell away. The girls were bewildered to find nine small flat packages precisely wrapped in yellowed tissue paper stuck to the back of the painting.

“What on earth are these?” Jenny asked, clearly very curious.

“I have no idea” Missy replied. “I never even knew they were there.”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out. Open one … but be careful! They look like they’re ready to fall apart”

Missy tentatively removed the diaphanous tissue paper from one package. Inside was an envelope with a letter enclosed. Removing the letter, she saw it was addressed to her mother. Silently she read it, her eyes widening in amazement.

“Damn it, Missy! Read it out loud!” demanded Jenny.

In a shaky voice, Missy read “My darling Beth. You just left and I’m already missing you. I long for the next time we can be together. Loving you – Philip”

The girls read all the letters, then sat in stunned silence. 

Pensively Missy whispered, “Mom was having an affair. The whole time Dad left her to spend time on the Summer Breeze, she was with another man. Do you think Dad suspected?“

“No way! He only had eyes for the Summer Breeze and was oblivious to everything and everyone else” Jenny replied, somewhat shaken.

“She saved his letters, Jen! He must have been so special to her.”

“Well, I’m glad she was getting the special tender loving care she she so deserved. Good for her! What do you want to do with these letters?” Jenny asked.

“There’s only one thing to do” Missy replied, picking up the letters and walking to the fireplace. “We have to burn them. Here, let’s do this together, for Mom.”

The sisters placed the letters in the fire and watched them immediately be consumed by the flames. They smiled as one small piece flew around the fireplace, then disappeared up the chimney, heavenward.

Jenny raised her glass. “Here’s to you, Mom.”

“To Mom” Missy echoed.

NAR © 2023

Sail on over today to
At The Movies.
I’ll save you a seat!
https://rhythmsection.blog/

At The Movies

AT THE MOVIES (July 13, 2023)

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Before the release of the 1997 film Titanic, studio executives were worried that it would be a commercial failure. Sony had paid $800,000 for the rights to the soundtrack album and were hoping it would include a theme song. However, James Cameron, the director did not want to end Titanic with a pop song, feeling it would be inappropriate.

“My Heart Will Go On” was originally composed by James Horner as an instrumental “thought” throughout the soundtrack. Wanting to prepare a vocal version to use during the end credits, Céline Dion’s name kept being mentioned as a good choice. Having recorded two other film songs, Dion initially did not want to record “My Heart Will Go On”, however, her husband and producer, René Angélil, convinced her to record a demo. After listening to Céline Dion’s recording, James Cameron gave the final ok for the song to be used during the final credits.

“My Heart Will Go On” is one of the biggest radio hits and best-selling singles in history, having sold more than 18 million copies worldwide. It was also the best selling single of 1998 worldwide. Streams increased following the recent tragic Titan submersible implosion, which sparked a renewed interest in Titanic. 

Here is the award-winning Canadian singer Céline Dion performing “My Heart Will Go On” during one of her shows at The Colosseum at Caesars Palace in Las Vegas.

That was rather breathtaking, wasn’t it? Have any of you seen Céline Dion’s Las Vegas act?

The question for today is about cruises. Have you ever been on a cruise? Where did you go and how was the experience?

I’ll start things off by telling you something about our cruise to The Bahamas. Right off the bat we were in very rough waters with the majority of people on board getting seasick, even veteran cruisers. Mr. Bill who never gets seasick admitted to feeling a bit queasy. My sons and I were horribly sick so made our way down to the dispensary for seasickness shots. I didn’t have much faith in the ship’s doctor when he said he’d never given shots to kids before and didn’t know the dosage! Well, there was no way I was going to let my boys suffer for the next 10 days so I suggested Dr. Demento give each boy half an adult dose, which he did (as long as I took full responsibility). It worked like a charm! The three of us slept for the next 12 hours straight; when we woke up, we felt fine and were able to enjoy the rest of our cruise. But because my sons and I get terribly seasick, that was our first and last cruise.

Now it’s your turn if you’d like to share a cruise story.

Thanks for being on board with me today; I hope you enjoyed the show!

Catch you next week for another day At The Movies.

See you on the flip side.

I’m The Sicilian Storyteller

NAR © 2023