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| January 27, 1997 |
Circulation 54 |
Vol. 1, No. 11 |
LUCY ‘N CHARLIE BROWN:
Y’all know the story right? ... every Fall Lucy promises
to hold the football while Charlie Brown runs up to kick
it ... Charlie knows that every time she holds the ball
she moves it just as he’s kickin’ ... he lands
flat on his back ... it’s happened for years ...
but every Fall she starts enticin’ ‘im ... he
finally gives in ... sure ‘nuff ... she does it again
... it’s Saturday mornin’ ... I’ve slept
in ... sort of ... I feel this gentle pushin’ on
my shoulder ... wifey- poo’s standin’ by the
bed ... “Honey, do you want some coffee?” ...
I mumble “Sure.” ... the fog is startin’
to lift as she heads back downstairs ... I grope around
for my new L.L.Bean fur-lined slippers ... my senses are
startin’ to go on alert as I replay the brief conversation
in my head ... “Honey?” ... somethin’s
fishy here ... since when am I “Honey”! ...
I pad down the stairs ‘n head for the kitchen ...
my coffee’s ready ... in my favorite mug ... just
like I like it ... half a teaspoon of real sugar ... powdered
CoffeeMate ... “Sweetie” she asks ... “would
you like some toast?” ... my brain is screamin’
“Caution, Will Robinson, Danger!” ... “Sure”
I reply ... headin’ for the front door to get the
newspaper ... on the way out to the street I’m beginnin’
to think “what chore has bubbled it’s way to
the top of the list to warrant this treatment?” ...
I mean after all a “Honey”, a “Sweetie”
‘n toast to boot! ... I grab the paper out of the
box ... the Sunday inserts are there in their orange plastic
pack ... it’s good they come a day early like this
... that way I can always put projects off ‘til tomorrow
if the stuff I need to buy is goin’ on sale then
... back at the table, Joanne accepts the orange packet
from me ... she loves to rifle through the coupons lookin’
for the ultimate bargains ... ‘specially on breakfast
cereals ‘n the like ... or the sales at Penneys or
Hechts ... or the dreaded Hechinger ad! ... I hate those
most of all! ... it screams “home improvement!”
... like scrapin’ your fingernails across a chalkboard
... it mocks me with fence posts to replace the ones that’ve
rotted off ... floodlights to replace the ones 20’
up on our gable that’ve burned out ... but I digress
... these are not the “project du jour” ...
I’m engrossed in an article ‘bout somethin’
worldly when Joanne pipes up “what does m-h-z mean?”
... I notice she’s got the Best Buy ad in her hands
... I reply “megahertz” ... “hmmmm”
she responds ... “is 200 good?” ... just like
Charlie I fall right into her trap! ... “the best”
I say ... “is 32 m-b good?” ... I pull off my
glasses ‘n lower my paper ... Yeltsin can wait a
minute ... “sure” I respond ... “what does
m-m-x stand for?” she continues ... like Pavlov’s
dogs I’m startin’ to salivate ... “oh,
it’s some new flimflam marketing stuff” as I
try to sound nonchalant ... then she moves the ball! ...
“you know, I wouldn’t mind gettin’ a new
computer but I’d just feel so bad puttin’ it
down in that basement with it bein’ such a mess!”
... what can I say ... I finish my coffee ‘n head
down the stairs to the basement ... with a box of trash
bags ... my first target’s right by the door ...
I haul the broken GE Spacesaver television ... the broken
RCA VCR (with remote) ... an original equipment car radio
from my long gone 1982 Chevette (that had been removed
to put in a new, more powerful model by #3 son) ... a
complete, non-working component stereo system where none
of the pieces would work without each other ... out to
the garage for the trash ... I muscle three Orange crates
full of National Geographic over to the side wall ...
puttin’ off the decision of what to do with them
... I attack the hutch that we bought early in our marriage
(at an auction ... a mere $75 for an Ethan Allen treasure)
... the bottom looks simple enough ... ‘til ya’
start haulin’ the contents into daylight ... an empty
champagne bottle (with the $2.49 price tag still on it)
that we’d melted candles in (like in the cheap Italian
places of the 60’s) ... it was from our ‘honeymoon’
... we weren’t even old enough to have it but a friend
had given it to us anyway ... then our Anniversary candle
... 29 years of dust accumulated on it ... a box of brown
napkins imprinted with brown ink “The Rusks”
... a gift from a printin’ firm I’d used long
ago ... it was shapin’ up to be a long day ... TO
BE CONTINUED.
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“Memories are the treasures
we accumulate as we go along, just don’t do like
the pirates and bury them or you might lose them.”
-- Mikey, Thinkin’ Too Hard
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| Mikey's Muse(tm)
is published weekdays as a commentary on stuff. Editor,
Michael T. Rusk. Copyright © 1997 by Michael T. Rusk.
Printed in the U.S.A. This publication may be distributed
freely as long as there is no charge. Commentary is loosely
based on actual events and may contain embellishments,
bits of fiction, and editorial liberties (lies) under
the guise of poetic license. All characters portrayed
in my writing are purely fictional and any resemblance
to any person, company or animal is purely unintentional.
If you don't get it, you just don't get it. Don't blame
me for anything I say and don't do anything I say, either.
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