life – Page 6

Shades of Frannie

This Strange Brew cartoon by John Deering came at a perfect time. We were recently talking about updates we need to do at our condo building and I was talking to the neighbors about things we had done in the past – so many years ago.

There was one neighbor who was a bully. She was a young wife, in her mid 20s, about 4’5″ tall or smaller, 90 lbs . wet, and married to a guy who was on the board. Let’s call her Frannie. She was from Italy, so this little dynamo talked with a thick Italian accent, bullying her way around the building.

She decided what color to paint the building, which tiles to use for the pool renovation, what the gardening should look like, which lights should replace the ones we had around the building and so on.

The “shades of white” cartoon reminded me that one day these guys showed up to show us shades of something – I think it might have been for an awning in the front of the building, it might have been tiles, I can’t remember.

I do remember telling them, “Let me call Frannie to look at these.” I didn’t dare make a decision without her, even though I was president of the board. As she was coming down to meet us, I told the guys, “See these three brochures you are showing us? All these choices? Frannie is going to take her time, go through every color and choice and then ask you if you have another catalog or brochure for her to look at.”

And right on cue, that’s what happened, after carefully looking it all over while we all remained silent and waited, that’s just what she did, she asked them if they had another brochure to look at.

We all bust out laughing and to this day, I don’t know if she know why.

Frannie and her husband were terrible neighbors. They moved some years back and rented their condo unit ever since. Over the years they have rented to awful people. Not one decent person, including the current tenant. I have to tell you some time about the one tenant who picked up stray dogs off the street and how two got into my apartment and practically destroyed everything in the living room.

One totally wild mongrel was jumping around like a kangaroo, he broke so many things in his way. I still have his dirty footprints on my white leather sofa to remind myself of that nightmare incident. They are covered by a pillow, but they are still there. It’s a conversation piece.

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Changes in latitudes, changes in attitudes

I was shocked and saddened to hear of Jimmy Buffett’s death Friday. Living in Florida, he was a big part of our lives. I never cared for tequila or margaritas, but I lived the Margaritaville lifestyle for most of my life.

It was a life of spending almost every day at the beach – for an hour or for eight hours. In crowded beaches and secluded beaches. I would find fallen coconuts on the beach, crack them open and use the milk as suntan oil.

Meeting friends on the boardwalk was a common thing, we would run, then head to happy hour at a beach bar. I would work out or relax at secluded beaches. Many times, grabbing lunch, then head to a quite beach and eat, then head back to work. I did that last week.

Years ago, I would skip school and when I got home, my mom would ask me why I had a tan. I would make up some sort of excuse.

Regarding my cartoons, there was period of time where I would go to the beach daily and make a rule where I would not be able to leave until coming up with two cartoon ideas. Many ideas and gags were water and beach related, but most weren’t. It was a fun, interesting exercise. I must have done a good job of it because during that period, I sold a lot of single panel cartoons to magazines and newspapers. Looking at some of those old cartoons, I can remember where I was, at what beach, where the ideas came from.

I spent a lot of time in Key West, too, where Jimmy is worshipped. But he was worshipped all over South Florida. Every time I drive by the old Miami Marine Stadium in Miami these days, I think of Jimmy, he did concerts there in his early days and while I didn’t attend, I guess it was big news around here, so it sticks in my head.

I found some Jimmy Buffet music and books and stuff here at Amazon.

**Jimmy jumping into the bay after a concert at Miami Marine Stadium in 1985.** (Photo courtesy: Beth Hodle / Parrot Head Handbook)

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Memories

My parents passed away – my Dad last September and my Mom the October before that. The house is still sitting as it was left. I’m not sure what it taking us so long to clean it out. Too many memories maybe, maybe too big of a job. There is 50 years worth of stuff in that house. 50 years this month.

I decided to start going a couple of days a week and try to make a dent. I started with my old room. I’m amazed that so much of my old art from when I was a kid and also from high school and college is still there. Not that anyone would dispose of it, but 30 years ago, Hurricane Andrew struck and the house was inundated with water. There was so much water in the house that the refrigerator was on its side. It was lifted up and thrown over! I guess maybe four feet of water or more was in the house.

The art was on the top shelf of the closet, I’m luckily it survived. Everything below that is gone now, destroyed in the flood.

There were piles and piles of large pads full of cartoons and comic strips I drew and also art from high school and college classes.

Yes, we had nude models in college for figure drawing. I guess we got used to it after the first couple of times.

It’s funny, but I remember this guy’s face from so many years ago. I know, he was naked, but it’s his face I remember. For some reason, it had a familiar look, almost like a famous person or so, so when I look at this I can almost remember him.

Here’s a more detailed figure. These nudes are from college, But one image from high school sticks out. We had to draw a pair of sneakers that were on the table and I remember doing that. I remember how happy I was with the results. I guess I’ll find that in the pile of art I now have.

Not sure who this is, but I don’t remember her being a model. Maybe it was from a book or magazine.

I saw this photo of the Obamas on my mother’s dresser. I don’t remember ever seeing it before.

When I picked it up and read it, I see she must have donated to them or his campaign or something. I was living out of the house by then so I guess I never saw this and she never mentioned it.

My mom loved the Obamas, so did my dad, I was happy to see that she kept the image along with family photos on/in the mirror like people do.

My mom gave to all sorts of charities, she always did. I’m glad to see she donated to political campaigns, too.

One sad thing about the way my parents passed away was that they left the house and didn’t come back in the end. And things are left as if they just walked out of the room.

This looks like my dad’s eyeglasses, just sitting on the side of the bed.

In the kitchen, next to the sink there is a towel and there are two spoons on it, looking as if they were washed and placed there to dry. Just like it was yesterday.

My dad used the dining room table as a desk. All of his papers are there – just as he left them. A pen sits on the pile, just as if he put it down and walked out of the room for a second.

All this reminds me of famous houses I’ve visited – the Roosevelts, Hemmingway, etc. Their personal papers and things were just sitting there, although they were probably set up and placed there. But it gives the illusion that they just walked out of the room for a second. In these cases at my parents’ house, they were really just left as I see them now.

I spoke to one of my brothers. We may start going through the house next weekend, to just start packing things up. We’ll do it as a group to make it go faster, I guess. We grew up up there. It won’t be easy.

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The glues of our life

I saw an image of the Lepage glue with the rubber top on Facebook and memories came flooding back. I remember using it as a child. Then I remember all of these glues – Elmer’s Glue, rubber cement and white paste, also by Lepage.

The glue with the rubber top had a slit in the top of the rubber and you would press down to let the glue out, it looked sort of like maple syrup, only thinner. The Elmer’s Glue we would put on our fingers, the white would turn clear as it dried, and then we peel it off. The rubber cement we made into small rubber balls and we played with them. I think we used rubber glue more than most of them other types of glues here.

And the White Paste. What I remember about the white paste is eating it. Yup, we would eat the white paste. I don’t know why and I don’t remember what it tastes like, but that was the thing to do when you were eight years old.

I remember one time in class, I was “tasting” the white paste and I heard a shriek from the teacher – it was a shriek like you would hear when someone sees a mouse. She looked at me and said, “You’re not eating the paste, are you?” And even at eight years old, I was a quick thinker – I told her, “No, I was smelling it.” A stupid answer but I guess I thought it was better to be smelling it than eating it.

I can almost picture the teacher in my head, but she wasn’t our regular teacher, she was either a substitute or a teacher’s aid, something like that. I suppose the regular teacher was used to us eating paste so it was nothing for her to be shocked over.

It’s amazing how seeing something or smelling something brings back so many memories.

I used to see a Facebook page where pictures of old toys and games were posted. There wasn’t any text, someone would just post a picture and the memoires would start flooding back, people would comment about their memories about the toy or game.

I guess my brothers and I were spoiled because I can’t remember seeing an old picture of something that we didn’t have. Every toy and game that was shown we seemed to have – Trouble, Skittle Pool, Clue, Monopoly, Flintstones things, Operation, Lite-Brite, Creepy Crawlers and even the Hasbro Frosty Snowman Machine, and lots of models – we used to make lots of plastic models and do puzzles.

I don’t know what happened to all these things, I guess my mother threw them out, but when I think of what they are worth now.

The interesting part is that my brothers and I must have shared everything no matter whose toy they were because I can’t remember who owned what. We must have kept everything in one place in the house and just picked and chose what we wanted to play with.

Now it’s all about electronics. Kids have so many electronics that one day will probably seem quaint to them.

**Hasbro Frosty Sno-Man Sno-Cone Machine.**

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The speakers

My neighbor asked me if I wanted two large speakers he had. I didn’t. But this reminded me of a story from some years ago. These aren’t the speakers my neighbor had, but they look like the ones I am going to tell you about

Many years ago, I was leaving Macy’s with my friend Jorge and a couple of guys approached us. They wanted to know if we wanted to buy these two big speakers, like the ones shown here. I don’t know why, but I agreed. Oddly enough, I had my checkbook with me, which I never carried around, but I was about 22, and I guess I didn’t have credit cards yet. I wrote the guy a check, we took the speakers and left.

Jorge and I went home to my apartment and left the speakers and other stuff we got at Macy’s and we went out, I don’t know where, probably to lunch or something.

When we got home for lunch, there sitting on my kitchen counter was the check I gave the guys outside Macy’s and the speakers were gone! I had the guy’s phone number and I called him to ask him about this. He told me the bank, I think it was Centrust at the time, wouldn’t cash the check for them. I guess these guys looked quite shady, which they were.

I asked him how he got into the apartment, he said he broke in through the window. And this did not faze me, because I guess when you’re 22, things don’t faze you. It is creepy to know now that the “secure” building was not so secure from the front building entrance to my window. Both easily broken into.

I told the guy to bring back the speakers, I wanted them. He came back and I don’t remember if I gave him cash or we went to the bank together or what. But I ended up with the speakers.

And you know what? For many years, they just sat there. I never used them; never attached them to any music equipment and they were mostly used as sort of plant holders or end tables. I don’t even know if they ever worked. I had to have them, but never even tried them to see if they worked.

Ahh, to be young and carefree again, not letting anything bother me. Although I don’t think I let many things bother me now.

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Saying ‘ok’ is okay

I saw this quote and it’s me! I do this all the time. But I didn’t know it was a sign of maturity. I do it so that I don’t have to have a long conversation. It seems easier to just say, “Ok” and leave it at that.

I say “ok” a lot on texts. I also do it because I don’t want to type, or dictate a text. A couple of my cousins sort of mentioned it. They sort thought it was rude for me to just respond, “ok” to their texts.

I do it to be agreeable and to answer a question or statement concisely. There’s a thumbs up thing now, so I can do that rather than even type “ok.”

For instance, I’ll get a text that says, “We’re meeting at such and such place at 2 pm.” And I respond, “ok.” Or they text, “We want Italian food, so we are going to such and such restaurant,” and I respond, “ok.” They have said, “Take the R train because the M train isn’t running,” and I respond, “ok.”

But seeing that they don’t care for those “ok’s,” I’ll sometimes answer, “Ok, looking forward to it,” or “That damn M train is always out of service!” or things like that, just not to be “rude” which I don’t think I’m being, I think I’m being economical.

One interesting thing is that two of my brothers type “okay” when they respond, they spell the whole word out, which I find interesting. I don’t think I have ever done that.

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Worrying about the wrong things

I had to go to the doctor’s recently. It was at a place downtown where I had never been and my biggest concern was the parking situation. and finding the location. I even did a dry run drive on a Sunday, to be sure I could find the place on a busy rush hour Monday. I wasn’t worried about the actual doctor’s visit, I was more concerned with finding parking and finding the actual place.

Then there was a follow up for the results. I was nervous about that. I wasn’t nervous about the results, I was nervous about how it would work. Will he call me on the phone? Will I be on Zoom on the computer? I never set up Zoom on my new computer because I haven’t used Zoom since I got the new computer, so what will I do?

That’s what worried me.

I had a recent conflict here at my condo recently. I was supposed to be on the board, the board members begged me for months to run, and then at the time of voting, not one board member voted for me. I did not want to be on the board, but I felt obligated, but yet I was upset.

A friend asked why I was upset since I didn’t want to be on the board anyway, and I was upset because I had gotten psyched up about it. I told him, “I wasn’t psyched up in a good way, like I wasn’t excited about being elected. I was psyched up in the way you get when going to the doctor or dentist.” Maybe that’s why I don’t dread a doctor’s visit since I psych myself up ahead of time into dealing with it. Sort of like being on the condo board.

There’s a cartoon in all this somewhere. Or maybe a Seinfeld episode.

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Seeing things in things

I’ve been doing a thing called Cloudy With A Chance of Faces, where I post images of clouds that look like things. I wrote about it here if you’d like to see more examples and links to the sites if you care to follow.

But now I am always looking at the clouds, seeking out faces and things. In the past, I would catch the image by accident, but now I am hunting for them. And it’s turned to all sorts of things.

As you can see here, I have a cowhide rug in my living room and I see things in that.

I see a dad walking a child to school, who has a dog on a leash. See it?

A guy or maybe a lady, looking at the clouds.

A child praying.

A southern lady entering the ballroom as a lady to her right ushers her in, that also looks like a heart dancing to her left.

The cowhide rug.

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Getting her bearings

Cartoonist Liz Climo creates cartoons with animals doing cute things. This one stood out to me because it reminds me of my own mother. I think about her every day and I guess since yesterday was Mother’s Day, I really had her on my mind, but I do think of her every day and one instance similar to this cartoon always sticks out in my mind, and I don’t know why, because I have millions, maybe billions of memories of her.

I must have been 8 years old, maybe a bit older and it could have only happened a few times. It must have been summer because my brothers and I were all home from school. And during that summer, early in the morning, I would go into my mother’s room and wake her up. My father had already gone to work, and it was still quite early.

I would wake my mother up and she would roll over groggily and say, “Good morning, do you want breakfast?” And I would say “yes,” and she would sit at the edge of the bed and say, “Ok, just give me a minute, let me get my bearings.”

She never yelled, she never said, “Get out of here, I’m sleeping!” She woke up smiling and happy to see me and I always remember that. I always remember her saying the “get my bearings,” part.

I’m sure she yelled at me a thousand times in my life, but I only remember her being kind and happy.

I don’t know if it happened once, twice, 10 times or what, but that one summer memory is always in my mind and this Liz Climo cartoon really brought it rushing back.

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Al Jaffee in his own words

I came across this great Al Jaffee video where the Mad Magazine cartoonist talks about his life and Mad Magazine-related things.

Al passed away in April at the age of 102. My father always used to say all of these old comedians lived long lives because they laughed all day and every day – George Burns, Milton Berle, Jack Benny, etc. I guess you could add Al Jaffee to that list.

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