Written for Melissa’s Fandango Flash Fiction
Challenge #348 using the photo below as our
inspiration. Here’s where the photo took me.
Tag: Parents and Children
Kissing Lake Ontario
Written for dVerse Prosery Monday:
Prosery In the Words of Lisa Bellamy.
Our host Sanaa asks us to write a 144
word story using the quote shown at
the bottom of the page. This is my prose.
Just A Part Of Life
Written for Friday Fictioneers where our host Rochelle
has asked us to use the photo below as inspiration
to get creative in 100 words or less, making
every word count. Here’s my flash.
Jenny looked around the no-frills room which was now her home. A shy girl, she’d never spent a single night away from home; now she was half-way across the country at an unfamiliar university with thousands of nameless faces.
At first she didn’t want her parents’ help moving but at the last minute she relented. They were on their way home now and all Jenny wanted was to grab her phone and beg them to come back and take her home.
The sound of girl’s excited laughter echoed in the hall; Jenny peeked out and someone happily waved her over.
NAR©2024
100 Words
This is “What Is Life” by George Harrison
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.
Like Father, Like Son
The topic today at Song Lyric Sunday is to write about a song(s) dealing with children and/or families, two themes that clearly go hand-in-hand.
We have a serious tune today, a classic song that’s a lesson and a warning to parents everywhere. The song sends a powerful message which needs to be heeded before everything slips away and is lost forever. Sounds ominous, doesn’t it?
My featured performer today is Harry Chapin, born in NYC in 1942 and cousin of Mary Chapin Carpenter. Music was always in Harry’s life and his three siblings also became musicians. His wife, Sandy, was a writer and today’s song is based on a poem which she wrote. At first, Harry wasn’t crazy about the poem but after the birth of his son, he decided to give it another look.
The result was a song of regret, the sad tale of a man who only had time for his work and put everything before the needs of his young son who emulated his dad and eventually grew up to be “just like him”. That song is “Cat’s In The Cradle” which was a huge hit for Harry Chapin in 1974, being his only #1 song. It was nominated for a Grammy in 1975 and was inducted into the Grammy Hall Of Fame in 2011.
Music magazine Cash Box called “Cat’s In The Cradle” a “lyrical delight, a tender story of a father and his son and a perfect representation of how roles change in the relationship over the years”. Record World said that the song “deals with the preoccupations plaguing parenthood” and that it “bridges the generation gap by pointing up mutual faults”.
The chorus of the song repeats the phrase “Cat’s in the cradle,” which is a reference to a child’s nursery rhyme about a cat sleeping in a cradle. The phrase serves as a metaphor for the passing of time and the changing relationship between father and son.
Sadly, on July 16, 1981, Harry Chapin died at the age of 38. He was killed in an accident on the Long Island Expressway when his Volkswagen Rabbit was rear-ended by a tractor trailer truck. He was on his way to perform at a benefit concert when the accident occurred. In addition to being a singer, songwriter and multi-instrumentalist, Harry Chapin was a philanthropist and hunger activist. As a dedicated humanitarian who fought to end world hunger, he was a key participant in the creation of the Presidential Commission on World Hunger in 1977. In 1987 he was posthumously awarded the Congressional Gold Medal for his humanitarian work.
There are many different videos for “Cat’s In The Cradle” but this is my favorite. Let’s have a listen to Harry Chapin.
In keeping with the theme today of children and/or dfamilies, here is Harry Chapin’s daughter, Jen, performing his song.
Heavy metal band Ugly Kid Joe also released their own cover; while staying faithful to the original, they chose to remove the apostrophe from the title. Interpreted literally, there is more than one cat in their cradle. This is Ugly Kid Joe with “Cats In The Cradle”.
Lyrics
My child arrived just the other day
He came to the world in the usual way
But there were planes to catch, and bills to pay
He learned to walk while I was away
And he was talking ‘fore I knew it, and as he grew
He’d say “I’m gonna be like you, dad”
“You know I’m gonna be like you”
And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man in the moon
“When you coming home, dad?” “I don’t know when”
But we’ll get together then
You know we’ll have a good time then
My son turned ten just the other day
He said, thanks for the ball, dad, come on let’s play
Can you teach me to throw, I said-a, not today
I got a lot to do, he said, that’s okay
And he, he walked away, but his smile never dimmed
It said, I’m gonna be like him, yeah
You know I’m gonna be like him
And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man in the moon
“When you coming home, dad?” “I don’t know when”
But we’ll get together then
You know we’ll have a good time then
Well, he came from college just the other day
So much like a man I just had to say
Son, I’m proud of you, can you sit for a while?
He shook his head, and they said with a smile
What I’d really like, dad, is to borrow the car keys
See you later, can I have them please?
And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man in the moon
“When you coming home, son?” “I don’t know when”
But we’ll get together then, dad
You know we’ll have a good time then
I’ve long since retired, my son’s moved away
I called him up just the other day
I said, I’d like to see you if you don’t mind
He said, I’d love to, dad, if I can find the time
You see, my new job’s a hassle, and the kids have the flu
But it’s sure nice talking to you, dad
It’s been sure nice talking to you
And as I hung up the phone, it occurred to me
He’d grown up just like me
My boy was just like me
And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man in the moon
“When you coming home, son?” “I don’t know when”
But we’ll get together then, dad
We’re gonna have a good time then
Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Harry F. Chapin / Sandy Chapin
Cat’s in the Cradle lyrics © Songtrust Ave, Warner Chappell Music, Inc
NAR©2024
Thanks to Jim for hosting another week of Song Lyric Sunday.
See you on the flip side. 😎
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.
Far Away Land
Jenne, our genial host at The Unicorn Challenge,
has offered up the photo below as our inspiration
to write a story of no more than 250 words.
This is my 250-word response to that challenge.
There was once a land so very far away from every other land that it was almost completely forgotten by all the inhabitants of the world.
And on that land there were trees and bushes and plants of every type imaginable. Each tree, plant and bush bore the most incredible edibles … luscious fruits of every variety known and unknown to man. There were at least 10,000 kinds of grapes, 8,000 sorts of apples, 3,000 types of pears, 2,000 varieties of peaches, 1,000 kinds of bananas, 400 types of berries, 400 varieties of oranges, etc. There were many sorts of vegetables that grew underground as well as on trees. There were streams, lakes and rivers with crystal clear water abundant with fish.
And on that very far away land lived a cyclops … giant, of course, as all cyclopes are. He was left there years ago by his parents who knew he would never survive life in the city, a life of ridicule and torment and loneliness. They also knew they would never be able to show him any kind of love or affection; indeed, his mother was repulsed by the feel of his rough skin, and unable to look into his one large, blood red eye.
But the cyclops was not forgotten. Every birthday his parents would travel thousands of miles to bring him candy. He would greedily eat the candy and they would leave. Until the last visit when he ate the candy and for dessert, his parents.
NAR©2024
250 Words
This is Cream with “Tales of Brave Ulysses”
All text, graphics and videos) is copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR © 2017-present.
MONSTROID
It’s time once again for
The Unicorn Challenge.
Our mission: to write
a story in 250 words or less
in response to the photo prompt.
This is my story and I’m sticking to it.
🦖 🎄 🦕
When our son was still in elementary school, he demonstrated a great ability and clever imagination for art. He had a penchant for cartoon characters of his own creation which he drew on his book covers and all over his school notebooks.
My husband and I encouraged his artwork and we kept him well-stocked in supplies, including a drafting table, paints and copious amounts of drawing pads. His main character was a T-rex called “Monstroid” …. a Jurassic lawman who was not above getting down and dirty.
When our son was about twelve years old, he asked permission to paint Monstroid on his bedroom wall. I had no problem with that; I’d rather he paint his own wall than someone else’s. Thirty-something years ago, graffiti was considered vandalism, not the street art it has become today.
The story of Monstroid grew in my son’s head, along with other dinosaurs, friend and foe alike. It got to the point where every wall in his room was covered with his creations; dinosaurs grazed on one wall while epic prehistoric battle scenes appeared on another wall. I didn’t mind; the boy was hurting no one and I would never suppress his natural ability for art …. just as I would never squash our other son’s talent for music.
Our son is now a television cameraman – another form of art. However, he never lost his love of painting and Monstroid is alive and well on the bedroom walls of each of his three kids.
NAR © 2023
250 Words
This is Bob Brown with “Santa, Bring Me A Dinosaur”
This portfolio (including text, graphics and videos) is copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and not for use by anyone, unless with permission. NAR © 2017-present.
THE CIRCLE OF FEAR
We bring children into this world.
We nourish and provide for them as best we can.
We watch over them as they sleep at night and hold the back of their new bicycle as they learn to ride a two-wheeler.
We protect them with our lives, watch them grow and eventually they leave the inner sanctum of heart and home to walk among the wolves.
They marry, have children of their own and radiate joy.
The circle of life.
We pray for them, worry about them, rejoice in their accomplishments and weep for their inevitable heartbreaks.
Our parental primal instincts emerge and we struggle against the riptides of life to shelter them from the unwelcome eventualities of the world.
But we cannot.
And that is the greatest fear of all.
NAR © 2023
The Elephant's Trunk 