The Kiss

[Note:  This is a work in progress.  I've kind of hit a block so I thought I woudl share this first draft as is.  Comments, as always, are welcome -- ggg]

The Kiss

 

“Now what are you thinking?”  He watched as the words formed on her lips.  They were spoken lightly, almost soundlessly; with just a small amount of, what was it, seduction?  No, more a sense of knowing than anything else.  He so wanted to move closer, to feel her breath on his skin, the touch of her lips on his.  But he stopped himself.  He couldn’t.  It just wasn’t right.

 

Julie and Andrew had been friends now for close to 4 months.  They were introduced through a mutual friend.  A colleague of his; a member of the same gym for her.  The friend, Jane, thought they would hit it off.  Not as lovers but as friends.  They were two lonely people living in a city of lonely people, but Jane saw a commonality between them.  The commonality of not being common.  Two people in need of, well, a friend.

 

The three met over drinks and as the conversation turned to movies, Jane felt herself back away.  She was never much of a moviegoer but knew that these two were.  Often one or the other would mention wanting to see a new movie and planning to go it alone.  Well, she thought, why not go alone, but with each other.

 

And there were movies.  Dramas for her.  Science Fiction for him.  Comedies for the two of them.  They’d have a light dinner beforehand to discuss expectations and a nice snack after to discuss in more detail.  And to plan for the next.  And they dated.  Not each other, nope, that wouldn’t do.  They had diner dates and beach dates and museum dates, but never movie dates.  That was reserved for their unique friendship.

 

Three months, two weeks and four days after their first movie excursion, an independent love story neither of them were really in the mood to see but both rather enjoyed, was released on Blu Ray.  They decided they needed to get a copy and watch it together.  A nice remembrance of their friendship so far. 

The date was set for Saturday night, Andrew’s apartment.  It seems he had the bigger television.  Andrew would cook (he so wanted to just order a pizza but Julie insisted they be more civil).  Julie agreed to bring the dessert.  And to balance the home cooking, something she made from scratch.  He shopped for all the fixings that go with Linguine with Clam sauce (which amounted to a box of linguine and a jar of sauce) as well as an Italian bread, garlic butter and frozen, microwavable Brussels sprouts.  She bought vanilla ice cream and box of chocolate chip cookies.  Homemade ice cream sandwiches were her specialty.

 

Saturday night arrived.  Andrew got to his cooking and loaded the disc into the player while the pasta boiled.  As he watched the trailer for the movie (he wanted to make sure everything was in working order) he felt compelled to put a candle out on the coffee table in the den. Seemed to fit the mood of the movie and the evening.  There was a sudden twinge in his gut.  Where did his mind just go?  No time to think about it as the kitchen timer buzzed.  The pasta was ready and Julie would be there soon.  He lit the candle, almost mindlessly, and moved into the kitchen to finish preparing dinner.

 

Julie had made the ice cream sandwiches the night before.  She wanted to make sure they were fully frozen for the trip to Andrew’s apartment.  What to wear, there was the question.  She was usually quite casual on their movie dates.  Dates?  Was that really the right word?  They were more like movie club meetings given all the discussion before and afterward.  Julie actually joked once that she felt like they were in a sort of book club but without the wine and they actually see the movies.  Tonight was a bit different.  She had been to Andrew’s apartment before.  Mostly to watch some old movie that hadn’t been in movie theatres since before the Home Video market.  Usually when it had its “re-mastered” release on Blu ray.  She’d wear jeans and a sweatshirt and they’d down a few bowls of popcorn (air popped, not microwaved, they were at the movies for heaven’s sake) with sparkling water or, on some very rare occasions, a beer.

 

But tonight seemed to be different.  They were having dinner.  Well, they’d had dinner before but always at a restaurant before or after a film.  It was a celebration of sorts.  Their first really.  In the few months they’d known each other neither had had a birthday nor were there any major holidays.  So this was, in a sense, a first for them.  She felt an odd twinge in her stomach as she took off the jeans she had been wearing and went to her closet for something different.  Twenty minutes, and three outfits later, she thought she was ready to go.  She had chosen a pair of black cotton pants and a button down blouse decorated in a pink and green floral pattern.  She decided to forgo the flat leather sandals she normally wore for a pair of black open strappy heels.  She liked these especially as they showed off the pedicure she had gotten that morning.  She checked herself in the mirror for what seemed like the tenth time.  She fluffed her hair and adjusted her blouse over her shoulders.  She unbuttoned the third button, opened the shirt a bit more, tilted her head to see herself, and then re-buttoned the third button.  She frowned, considered changing her blouse again, looked at the the time and thought better of it.  If she left right now she would only be 10 minutes late.  She turned from the mirror to stare at her phone.  She considered calling but opted to wait as she turned back to the mirror, leaned forward and gritted her teeth in a strange grimace of a smile to assure she had no lipstick on them.  Though there was none she rubbed her teeth with her right index finger and then ran her tongue across them.  “Oh what the hell, time to go.”  She spoke the words aloud to no one in particular.

While the linguine drained in the colander and the clam sauce warmed on the stove, Andrew placed the plastic package of Brussels sprouts in the microwave.  As he was setting the timer for the necessary 7 minutes, the phone rang.

“Hey there,” Julie’s voice was unmistakable. “I’m running a few minutes late.  Sorry about that.  Did you want me to stop and,” she paused, considering what she was going to ask, “Uhm, pick up a bottle of wine on my way over?”  She rushed the words to get them out.  Why was she suddenly feeling uncomfortable?

 

Andrew smiled and his expression cam through the phone.  “No, that’s okay.  I’ve actually got a bottle of ‘White Zinfandel chillin’ on some ice right now.’”  They both laughed.  It was a line from the movie they were about to see.  He said it in the same faked southern accent the male lead of the movie faked when he delivered it in the movie.  “Seriously, though,” his voice softened almost unnoticeably, “I did get a bottle just for this occasion.”  He felt a warmth in his cheeks.

 

“Okay, great!  I’m on my way.”

 

On her way, that gives me about 10 more minutes.  He set the microwave and turned down the already low flame under the pot of sauce.  He made his way to the den to check on the place settings he had arranged on the coffee table.  Where normally they would rest their feet, there were two placemats.  Each in the shape and design of a movie clapboard.  He had picked these up years ago at a rundown souvenir shop he found while making his first pilgrimage to Hollywood.  They had remained in a box in the back of his closet, waiting for just the right moment.  A fork, a knife, a spoon and a wine glass completed the settings.  In the middle of the table sat the candle, just starting to burn down, and a bucket of ice with an open bottle of wine, wrapped in a towel.  The table looked fine.  He moved on to the bedroom and especially the floor length mirror to check himself out. 

 

He had already decided khaki pants instead of the jeans and a Hawaiian shirt of mostly blues.  Earlier that evening he replaced his sneakers with a more comfortable and slightly better looking pair of off white canvas shoes, no socks.  He breathed into his hand to check his breath.  Just a slight minty scent from the mouthwash he swished and rinsed three times about an hour ago.  He looked at himself again.  Checked and found his zipper was up. Leaned in and smiled to make sure nothing was on or between his teeth.  He picked up a brush from the end table next to his bed and ran it through his recently groomed hair.  He smelled under his arms.  Though there was no noticeable odor he went to the bathroom, which was adjacent to the bedroom, and reapplied deodorant, sprayed cologne in the air in front of him and walked through it.

 

The microwave buzzer went off.  He rinsed his hands in the sink and then returned to the kitchen, looking over the den once again as he passed through.  Everything seemed in order.  His stomach twinged again.  Why was he feeling nervous?

 

He opened the microwave, almost burned his fingers attempting to pick up the bag of Brussels sprouts and dropped it on the floor.  This, he realized, is why they suggest waiting 90 seconds before opening the bag.  He grabbed a towel off the counter and picked up the bag which had fortunately not been damaged.  He lifted the lid of the pot on the stove and was greeted with just enough steam to fog his glasses.  As they cleared he saw the sauce, slightly bubbling.  He replaced the lid and turned the burner off.  He reached up to the cabinet above the counter and removed two plates, placing them on the counter.  He thought back to when he first saw the apartment and his reaction to the kitchen.  What would possess someone to take the doors off the cabinets (all were open air except for the floor to ceiling pantry)?  After living with it for less than a week he was more impressed than anything else by the design.  He took down a bowl and proceeded to empty the contents of the bag of Brussels sprouts into it.  As usual with these things, it seemed to him that there wasn’t enough for the two f them but he figured they could make do.  As he was taking the butter out of the refrigerator, the doorbell rang.  He placed the butter next to the Italian bread he had sliced earlier and left on the wooden chopping board.  He wiped his hands with a towel as he called toward the door, “Give me a second.  Be right there.”  He checked his zipper again and scanned the den one more time as he headed to the door.

 

“Wow!”  Andrew couldn’t have stopped the word from leaving his lips if he tried.  He had never seen Julie looking like this, not even when they first met.  He, without thinking of what he was doing, let his eyes scan her from the top of her head to the tips of her red polished toes.  And then back up again.

 

“Uhm, excuse me,” Julie wasn’t sure how to react.  She held the faux Tupperware container out to hand to him.  “You wanna take this?  It’s cold.”

 

This broke his trance, barely.  “Sure.” He took it from her.  It was colder than he originally thought and he almost lost his grip.  “Does this need to go in the freezer?  Not sure I can fit this whole thing.”

“No, it’ll be fine for at least the next 45 minutes or so.  You may want to put it in the refrigerator if you have room.”  She walked past him as he stood seemingly cemented to the spot, only turning his head to follow her.  “Oh, I love the placemats.”

This brought him back to the moment.  “Thanks,” he said as he closed the door and headed to the kitchen,” I got them on my first trip to Hollywood.  Some sleazy souvenir place.  Got them and a set of glasses with a picture of the Chinese Theatre on them.  Which broke in my luggage before I got home.”  This last a bit under his breath with just a hint of anger.

 

“I didn’t know you’ve been to Hollywood.”  She seemed impressed.

 

“Yep, three times.”  This a bit louder as he had his head in the refrigerator trying to find a place for the dessert. 

“Wow, that’s pretty cool.  I’ve always wanted to go.  What’s it like?”  The refrigerator door closed.

“Much nicer the last two times.  The first time I was there it was kinda dirty but they’ve done a bunch to clean it up.  Please, sit down.”  She had been standing, bending slightly over the table and examining its contents.  She sat on the couch that faced the TV and reached toward the wine bottle.

“You really did go all out.”  She turned the bottle to read the label.  “’White Zinfandel’” she quoted, raising her voice and taking on a slightly southern accent, “’I do not understand why they don’t call it pink’” she covered her mouth and giggled to herself, imitating the female lead.  Andrew smiled as he sat down on the loveseat perpendicular to the couch Julie occupied.

“Shall I pour?”  He took the bottle from Julie’s hand.  Their fingers touched for a brief second.  Butterflies attacked his stomach as he pulled the bottle away, a bit too quickly.  “Uh, sorry,” he said for no apparent reason.

Glee Finale

This morning I watched the final 2 hours of Glee recorded last night.  It was quite an experience.  Then, just as I was turning on the news, Victoria came in and we watched it together. Victoria and I, and actually the whole family, watched Glee religiously for the first season and a half. As story lines dealt more with sex and high school promiscuoity, the children no longer watched and ultimately I watched myself.

I loved this show from the beginning. Being a bit of an outcast in high school, I could identify with the students who were the first to join the Glee Club. As the club filled out, it was nice to see how the students each represented a certain type of person we've all seen and been during those three (or four) traumatic years of growing up.  Plus I thought Rachael was hot. I found myself in the guise of Mr. Schuster, the student who had the dream but never followed its path. Oddly the kids identified me with Artie.  For the sense of humor, I believe.  And my then wife, she said I was most like Kurt. No clue on that one.   I liked the stories, the characters, the humor (especially how it made fun of itself, great writing) and the music through season one. Honestly it gave me a new respect for Journey's music, I previously didn't have (sorry Sue, I shoukd have paid more attention).

Season two carried on the same feelings as the characters grew. I'd moved my eye from Rachael to Santana. The music was different. The stories got a bit more serious and alas, a bit more mature for my kids, still aged in single digits. The new characters were positive additions.  Especially Blaine and Coach Beast.  Kurt's dad began to appear more and honestly the best episodes featured him. There was just something honest about how he was portrayed as the father of an openly gay high schooler. And then I got to see Glee in concert. Too much fun.

As the seasons continued, Glee lost something. There was no longer the same heart to it. It lost that feeling of representing a microcosm of high school.  Students graduated and we followed them instead of the basis of the show, the GLEE club. A friend of mine remarked at one point that he was okay with the representation of the gay students but when the percentage of gay characters was the same as straight characters it started losing something. And no, this friend is not homophobic. It reminded me of what I consider the fall of Ellen DeGeneres' show.  It wasn't the fact that she came out.  That was brilliant. It was that from that point on, every show focused on her coming out. The show was never about her sexuality and suddenly that's all it was about. Lost its soul. Perhaps, jumped the shark?

New characters were added but they were much more homogeneous than the original group. Somewhere, I think in season four, my son George told me all Glee was about anymore was gay marriage and federal funding of the arts.  I can only guess he heard someone say that cause he wasn't watching the show and though, as his Dad I have to admit he's a genius, he's just not that smart.

I continued to watch. And purchase the CD's.  Often I'd let the DVR capture five or six episodes before attempting to reluctantly catch up. It was losing its, Gleeness for me.

On a side note, the kids and I watched all of the Glee Project episodes. Thoroughly enjoyed them. Didn't always agree with the winners but fun to watch. Wish some of THAT music was downloadable.

Then the final season started. I made sure I was caught up for it. Thankfully it started much later in the year so I could. I watched the first episode and, guess what?  I laughed, I got misty, I felt like I was watching the first season all over again.  They had backed up over the shark and found that spark they had let out of the bottle.  I couldn't put my finger on this new found love for the show until watching a couple of the episodes. But it was there.  Sue Sylvester was back in all her glory. That character, and her interactions with the others, held much of what made Glee, Glee. There was a new "found self deprecating humor, often peaking over the 4th wall, that was smartly written and flawlessly executed (most often by the wonderful Jane Lynch). But the biggest thing, it was once again about a group of people, not individuals.  These are the things that I firmly believe made the show work and in a rare instance for a TV show, they returned in the end. I adored every episode. And I laughed, and I got misty, and I sang along.

The finale captured what the final season did.  It captured the best of what was Glee. The first hour of back story told us very little new stuff. Just filled in some holes and mostly enabled the second hour to close the story arc.

I'll be honest.  I was looking forward to it all being a nightmare of Sue's, or a fantasy of Becky's.  I know we've seen that before, but Glee always had that sense of irony and parody about it. But what we did see worked so well for me.

I teared up a few times. Sue's song to Will.  Rachael's speech. Mercedes' departure.  I loved what became of Sue.  I wasn't too happy about Rachael and Jesse, but, that's just me. And that final gathering of the cast was perfect. The perfect ending to this wonderful show.  Sure, I would have liked a different song. Perhaps Don't Stop Believing or Loser Like Me but I was happy to see that wonderful group of characters and actors together on stage together.  To quota a totally different musical, "Together Again, for the First Time."   That's okay, they brilliantly quoted Man of La Mancha. I just wish they spent more time showing each of the old cast.  And would have liked to have seen Stephen Tobolowsky as well.

All in all, I loved you Glee. And I will miss you!

every now and then it's fun to Google yourself

http://www.imdb.com/name/nm5518794/?ref_=fn_al_nm_1

http://www.zmdb.org/person/7990-Gregg_Stickeler.htm


http://planninecrunch.blogspot.com/2015/01/plan9rewind-scream-zombie-scream-look.html

Nothing special

Well I saw the third episode of Last Man on Earth.  I can honestly say it doesn't seem to be getting any worse.  Anything else more encouraging would definitely not be honest.  I almost caught myself about to laugh but then realized I had fallen asleep and was having a funny dream.  Yes, I will continue to watch, who knows, it might get good.

Actually went out to dinner with another adult this weekend.  It was very nice to not have to tell my dinner companion how to use a fork or to put her napkin on her lap.  And I drank wine.  The world is certainly changing.

Kids have been sick.  Just sayin'.

Started writing with an old friend.  Looking forward to where it all ends up.  Nothing else I can say on that issue at the moment.

Working on three short stories right now.  The first I kind of hit a road block with.  It's the third person view of the Widow Maker.  Not sure if I have writer's block or the reliving is getting to me.
Next is something I am calling the kiss.  Just the story of the first kiss between a man and a woman.  Considering doing it from both points of view.  Guess I'll have to kiss someone to remember the sensation.
And then there's the, shall we say, erotica I've been toying with (no pun intended).  I have a few "instances" written but need to pull them together in a coherent story.

That's really it.  thought I should jot something down as it's been a few days since an entry and I hear the key is to keep writing stuff.  No matter how uninteresting it might be.

Last Man on Earth

You know that old expression, I wouldn't [insert verb] you if you were the last man on earth?  Well after watching the first hour of this new show I am tempted to paraphrase with I wouldn't watch you if you were the last show on earth.  This new series is horrible.  And so many people gave that same opinion before it even aired but I stood strong and said nope, this could be clever.  Why, because if written for humor rather than a lame concept, it could probably be pretty good.

Here's what we've seen.  Spoiler alert, and I use the word as I would if I left fish out in the summer for a week.  Guy is the last man on earth in 2020.  Some kind of virus killed everyone off.  No elaborate explanation, none needed (this isn't Omega Man after all).  He travels around the country in what seems like a really haphazard manor (we see him cross out states as he visits them, often non contiguously).  Luckily gas is plentiful and he has figured out a way to pump it without the need for electricity, a credit card, or anything else that would make gas pumps work (which I can live with, it's a sitcom after all and I could believe Donald and Anne never slept together for 7 years -- look it up).  On his travels he collects all kinds of great art pieces and things.  I would do that too.  He gets into locked buildings with the use of a gun (so much for the kids watching this).  He masturbates a lot.  and ultimately moves in to a mansion in, wait, I think I remember, Arizona.  Me I would have stayed near one of the coasts (and I hate the beach) but then, that's me.  Sets up house.  Uses the pool as a toilet. Trashes the place.  Ultimately decides he;'s going to off himself and discovers a woman instead.  There is a really clever bit when early on he is watching Castaway and tells the TV he'd never be friends with a ball and then later we see him playing pool and talking with a bunch of different types of balls with faces drawn on.  I give them credit, they had something clever.  The second half was all about the woman and the man ,earning about each other. 

I really think this could have been more clever.  Instead of 10 minutes of him bowling down pins and then lamps and then fish tanks and then ultimately parked cars (with a car as the bowling ball), perhaps spend the time actually visiting some historic sites and doing funny stuff there.  Or maybe just doing something funny would liven up the show.  Maybe a show about the last man on earth needs to stay in the realm of science fiction and shouldn't cross into comedy.  But wait, there are clever folks out there.  Give it to the Wayans, look what they did with horror movies, or the guys who did Airplane and Top Secret and Police Squad.  People who have experience and know something about parody.  Hey that's it, parody.

So, no, if it was the last show on earth I would still watch it.  at least a couple more episodes to see if it redeems itself.  But honestly, don't see much hope in this lasting.

The Procedure -- Post Op

Well, not much exciting happened after I got to recovery.  I checked email (left handed).  Posted on Face Book (left handed) and then attempted to eat breakfast -- left handed.  For those of you who know me well, you know that my hands shake. The hand that shakes worse (or is that better as it is definitely more of a shake) is my left.  So my right hand is incapacitated (wrapped in a pretty clear bracelet) and they give me cereal.  I am able to open the milk and pour it in the bowl but as soon as the spoon goes in, it is all over the place.  My sister offers to feed me but I wasn't having any of that.  I managed to steady my hand by resting it on my chest and ate about half the cereal before must giving up.  The juice and fruit was much easier.

And we sat (well she sat, I was laying down).  They offered to put on the TV but i had my iPad and Face book and my sister had Candy Crush or solitaire, or something.  They'd check my pressure bracelet and blood pressure from time to time.  The doctor came in to talk to us.  Looks like I'm getting out this afternoon (the goal for us was 2 in order to get the kids from school).  At one point the nurse notices something about where my puncture was and felt it best to take the pressure bracelet off.  She did, there was some spurtage of blood.  Pressure was applied and this pressure bandage was put on.  Kind of like a giant Band Aid with a big window to see the area.  Lovely.

Lunch arrived.  My sister cut up the chicken but the rice was as messy as the cereal from breakfast.  It was after noon now and we were getting antsy about getting out.

Blood pressure was low but acceptable.  The nurse, who was a great comfort and quite helpful decided she would start putting together the discharge stuff, in case we could get out soon.  She had the blood taking lady (phlebotomist?) come up from the lab to draw blood.  It was 1 now.  The nurse informed me to be careful with my right hand and to not use it for any repeating motion for a few days.  she went on to demonstrate by making a loose fist and raising and lowering it quickly.  Yes, that's exactly what it looked like.  She had to be privy to my Face Book page. 

Results form the blood test were in.  Blood pressure still low.  we reviewed the discharge paperwork.  I was told to cut my blood pressure pills in half and to monitor my blood pressure twice a day.  at first I thought I'd have to go to the mall to use the blood pressure machine there but it ends up you can by these things for home usage.  Another demonstration on what not to do with my hand.  Do I have a certain look to me?

She called my doctor to get the okay for discharge.  It was 130.  We were discussing my diet and I mentioned I had lost 30 pounds in the past two months.  "Wow, how did you do that?  I've been trying to lose weight for awhile now."

"I had a heart attack."  She doubled over laughing. 

Again what not to do with my hand.  "For example," she said as she raised and lowered her hand a few more times, "no hammering."  Finally some clarity.  My sister asked about the doctor.  she said she was going to call again in a minute if . . . the phone rang.  It was him.  Let him leave was the message.

I changed into my civilian clothes, which do button in the front.  Gathered up all my paperwork and got into the awaiting wheel chair.  IN all my life, I have been in a wheel chair three times, twice on this day and once, when I left the hospital after the event.  The nurse wheeled me out to the front.  My sister, who had left a few minutes earlier to get the car, pulled up and we were off.  2:05.  Boy, were the kids pleasantly surprised to see me in the passenger seat when we got to their schools.

and that, my friends, was the procedure.