Musical Milestone

“Although my staunchly Irish Catholic family considered it a mortal sin, that day I wasn’t paying attention to the rioting in Northern Ireland’s Derry.

 

Seated at the living room table, which was cluttered with artifacts of all the vices of our day, I was consumed with my Gretsch guitar, practicing with friends.

 

 

“Just think!” Bernie reminded us. “Everybody from Hendrix and Jefferson Airplane to Joan Baez and Janis Joplin will be there this weekend!”

 

 

“Feh!” Helen bragged. “We can be just as good. After all, we have been practicing constantly for the past three full months together!

 

 

It’s time yet again for Rochelle’s weekly Friday Fictioneers.  This week, Yvette Prior supplies our photo prompt.  Please read Rochelle’s blog for all the details.

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The Willoughby Moment

Last night, as I often do, I took a ride on New York’s subways and the L.I.R.R.  I was confronted by the usual cast of characters~the bad musician, the disgruntled black radical on his soap box, and the young woman who routinely loses control of her bodily functions in one of the cars.

 

 

“Just once,” I told the conductor, “I’d really like to see a halcyon scene like that inside these cars.”

 

 

 

 

“Sir,” he explained.  “That’s a Willoughby moment.  We pass by here daily so each passenger can enjoy a respite from all the inevitable insanity.”

 

 

Welcome back, yet again, to Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers. Read all about it, please, at her site.  This week, Sandra Crook supplies the photograph.

The Bookworms

Arnold, Wendell, and Mabel were at the Jane Austen convention, for the two hundred and first anniversary of the Regency Period author’s passing.

 

 

“Remember,” Mabel told her friends, “Try to pass for really smart. We want to blend in.”

 

שלום”

Χαίρετε” , her friends intoned in unison.

 

 

“Not quite that smart,” she chided them.

 

 

They enjoyed a nice leisurely weekend listening to speeches about life in Georgian England, and finding out all about the object of their admiration.

 

 

At the end of it all, Wendell opined:  “One of these days we should at least read something of hers.”

 

 

Welcome back yet again, one and all to Rochelle Wisoff~Fields’ Friday Fictioneers, the rules of which may be found at her site.  

 

 

Ted Strutz

has kindly agreed to supply this week’s photo prompt.

Rest In Peace, Earl the Pearl

“I’ve just found out that my oldest friend, Earl, has died,” I told Paul. “We were friends in Jackson Heights until we were twelve years old. Then I moved to Lindenhurst.”

 

 

“Even today I can remember his parents’ thick Puerto Rican accents, and how his brother, Junior, used to pick on me.  It just goes to show what happens when someone makes a really lasting impression.  We never got a chance to meet again, in person, after September 11, 1971, though it might as well have been yesterday.”

 

 

I then went to Youtube to listen to Mary Hopkin’s “Those Were the Days”.

 

 

Welcome back to Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers.  On her site, you can read the rules.  Dale Rogerson has supplied this week’s photo prompt.

Apocalypse Now

Abner was gone for the day so, of course, Gladys was confronted with one of her visitors. 

 

 

Whenever she was alone, she was always subjected  to this unwelcome company.

 

 

“Is this a foretaste of Hell?!” she desperately wondered. “Am I being given a cryptic warning?!”

 

 

The visions never once spoke. They were such sad spectacles, in black and white. She knew something was awfully wrong because instead of recoiling in horror at these sights, neighbors always passed by as if nothing were happening.

 

 

“Now at least it’s only a matter of time, she stated.  “Tuesday’s the moment  of truth.”

 

 

Welcome back, yet again, to Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers.  Read the rules on her blog.  Liz Young has supplied this week’s photograph.

Northeastern Pennsylvania In History

It’s the Fourth of July in northeastern Pennsylvania.  Naturally I’m partying with kin in Hilldale.  A gang of cousins and I go to nearby Wilkes~Barre to see the historical exhibitions in the Square.

 

 

“Northeastern Pa.’s loaded with military history,”  Joe and Ron, our Viet Nam veteran cousins, remind us.  “Remember,” Ron said. “We have to leave soon to see Queen Esther’s Bloody Rock in Wyoming Borough.”

 

 

At the end of our day, we get to go to Jitty Joe’s, in Scranton, for ice cream.  That’s all so mundane, even with all the toppings, compared to what we see here. 

 

 

Yet again welcome back to Rochelle’s  Friday Fictioneers.  J. Hardy Carroll provides this week’s photograph.  For the information of those of you with an interest in northeastern PA/Wyoming Valley history, here’s a good link:    Queen Esther’s Bloody Rock

MUSIC IS EVERYWHERE

When there’s nothing important to do I always practice my guitar.  Last night was no different.  Having noticed my old Beatle song book I wondered if my cousins Gary and Lanfranco were available for accordion accompaniment.

 

 

Lately I always daydream about St. Gabriel’s Glee Club where we sang all of Rodgers and Hammerstein and other show tunes.  Brother Edmond’s “Edelweiss”, and Brother James’ guitar follow me everywhere.  “Lawrence, ENUNCIATE!!” Brother James always demanded.

 

“Oh well,” I pondered, “It’s too bad there’s no good new music but if it were still here there’d be no there to go to.

 

This week’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt was supplied by our fearless leader, Rochelle .

It’s Deja Vu’ All Over Again

Ralph and Gertrude were enjoying a leisurely stroll by their favorite spot. 

 

“It’s too bad we can never get your brother to join us,” she complained.

 

“Yeah,” he admitted. “Sam’s plum terrified of water. Once when we were growing up, I asked him why. He explained that long ago he was on a large  unsinkable ship that hit an iceberg. Next thing he knew, he was stranded someplace and told to wait for another family to come and get him.”

 

“Sam was born on April 15, 1972. The Titanic sank on April 15, 1912.  Do you think there may be something to it?”

Welcome back yet again to ROCHELLE’S Friday Fictioneers.  Read all about it on her site. Fatima Fakier Deria graces us with the week’s photo.

A Visit to the Family

“I’ve always enjoyed our annual trip to see your Aunt Harriet, Uncle Ike, and cousin Mamie”, Floyd told Mabel. “Only they could possibly know that G.K. Chesterton died on June 14, 1936. They’re all members of the Chester~Belloc Debate Society.”

“Yeah,” she chimed in. “There’s only one thing I don’t get though. Of all the pets they could have gotten, why a quail?”

“Hey, you have to remember,” he explained, “Chesterton and Belloc were both distinctive. Quails are distinctive. Seen from that point of view, it fits.”

“They’re most certainly distinctive, all righty,” she agreed, as they finished eating.

Welcome back yet again to Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers. Each week, on Wednesday, we get to pretend it’s Friday.  This week’s photo prompt comes from Jean L. Hays

 

 

 

 

The Browning Version..A Poetry Recital

It was April 6, 1889, in Victoria’s England. Robert Browning, aged 76, was attending a party hosted by artist Rudolf Lehmann.

 

Colonel Gouraud brought out an Edison Talking Machine. At the company’s behest, Browning began reciting his poem, “How They Brought the Good News From Ghent To Aix”, but his memory lapsed.

 

“I’m sorry,” he stated. “I can’t remember me own verses, but one thing that I shall remember all me life is the astonishing…by your wonderful invention.”

 

He died on December 12 that year at the home of his son . Browning was the first poet whose voice was recorded for posterity.

 

Robert Browning 

 

 

The photo prompt was provided by Roger Bultot.  As always, Rochelle guides us weekly through Friday Fictioneers.