tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-48655642807977979412024-03-14T04:47:39.470-04:00em's talkeryEm's Talkery is a spot for asking questions about anything, conversation about hopes and dreams, about being a writer, unpublished or published.em's talkeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09301679254168423548noreply@blogger.comBlogger1871125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4865564280797797941.post-70550805815856805782021-05-11T20:17:00.000-04:002021-05-11T20:17:07.106-04:00<p> TALKING TRUTHFULLY about what nags you, worries you you need to express bluntly your real thoughts===taint easy to do...you got to practice expressing what you really feel....yes that is what I try to do every day when I am writing or sort of personal blog/ truth....some days it turns out sad and dreary---those are the peroanlblogs i write and they can be depressing, dreary and not really truthful. look at a ckcok..see there time, can you try to tell the true truth for a hour? or do you lapse in making the truth more feasible,,,,if you say Yes YES Y E S hurray for you,,,,,i think you think you are being utterly truthful even when you are shading whats true,,,,,,,</p>em's talkeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09301679254168423548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4865564280797797941.post-30714924838054334662021-04-29T21:22:00.003-04:002021-04-30T14:56:49.459-04:00<p>PICK " MERRILY WE ROLL ALONG ---KEEP VERY SIMPLE..... EASY TO SAY ....</p>em's talkeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09301679254168423548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4865564280797797941.post-75633808478167260602021-04-15T03:43:00.001-04:002021-04-18T05:59:47.961-04:00<div style="text-align: left;"> each place I lived in during my years in Harrisburg has significantly affected why Harrisburg Pennsylvania IS NOT WHERE I CHOOSE TO LIVE. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> IT HAS TO DO WITH LIMITED STRAIGHT-LACED pERSONALITY THAT IS TYPICAL FOR PEOPLE WHO GREW UP WORKING IN AN AREA WHERE PEOPLE WORKED, AND WERE MOSTLY EMPLOYED BY THE LOCAL GOVERMENT, YES, LOCAL "ART" WAS PROFOUNDLY INLUENCED BY LOCAL EMPLOYERS WELL AS WELL AS ARTISIC INSTITUTIONS.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>em's talkeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09301679254168423548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4865564280797797941.post-57037808410217728822021-04-04T02:58:00.004-04:002021-04-05T16:09:11.218-04:00<div style="text-align: left;"> north fifth street.. in harrisburg pennsylvania the SHABBY RATHER DINKY OLD HOUSE A SMALL OECE OF LAND with NO GRASS TO MOW had one TREE THAT SHED LEaVES that I raked on SATURdAYS when DADDY DRwhere he drove me once a week TO HIS dress FActory on the SIde of town. schoool mates a once a sweek dmired some of the sample dresses dad gave me usually a sample dress t--will lways remember the blue AND WHITE BLUE AND WHiTE DRESS THAT I ASKED school mate Martha - "do I look like a danceR? MARTHA SAid NO BECAUSE IT WAS NOT A DRESs SINCE IT WAS NOT A DRESS my SCHOOLS BEST DANCER WHO DID "toe tape dancing" like GOLDIE SHAwl. T i took dance lessons i OOK LESSONS THE LINNEKIN SCHOOL. MYTEACHER WAS GUNDREN.GALLOWAY. SHE GAVE ME cHIFFON SCARF to WAVE AS A I DANCED, AND PRAISED THE WAY i DID A 'tour jete. </div><p>I was not good at math and best friend MArTHA COLON and FLUNKED ANd DIED whEN DAD GAVE ME A mexican sstyle that Martha said was "CUTE "when we moved to 1822 my sister miriam had an attic room where I LEARNED TO DRAW, and lived in a room wHERE I COULD PRACTICE AND STRETCH MY FEET which were never great feet for dancing. </p>em's talkeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09301679254168423548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4865564280797797941.post-39599484536062395212021-01-25T11:22:00.006-05:002021-01-26T17:22:33.931-05:00NEW PROJECT FOR JD<p> Someplace there's an big deal percolating that could/would/ should re vamp<span> <span> our son </span></span>'s quiet, innermost thinking,</p><p>Write a book about the Kid who knew he had a birth defect that made him very different from kids he palled around with in school..<span></span></p><p>How and when did he find out what was wrong with him? Was it looking in a mirror and seeing the scars on his abdomen he got from surgery? Did he realize his anus was created by surgery? Did he read medical stuff--did Dr. Anthony Shaw tell him. (Shaw saved his life when he was born. Jd could't breathe.) How did our son find out what was wrong? </p><p>When did JD punch his bedroom window--literally put his fist through the glass? </p><p>The pschiatrists that were consulted --advice he was given-- only further infuriated JD. Other doctors wanted a fully detailed story of his background and my prenancy. </p><p><span> What was the best advice? Does it linger in his mind? Did he confide in anyone? Anwers to many questions have never been discussed but the extremely articulate man has been profoundly affected by being born with this major birth defect. yes, oh my yes, HE PUNCHED THE WINDOW.</span></p><p>WHAT WOULD HE ADVISE SOMEONE WHO GREW UP THE WAY HE DID </p><p>MOM SAYS, " JD JUST WRITE A BOOK ABOUT THIS, SEND A SAMPLE CHAPTER 1."</p>em's talkeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09301679254168423548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4865564280797797941.post-13799999887236568932021-01-23T12:11:00.002-05:002021-01-23T15:23:16.689-05:00RE GROW YOUR HAIR?????<p>do you shave your head> </p><p>jd would be very sexy with long hair. </p><p>try bulky huge big bunch ala angry black dangerous guy. </p><p>WHAT ABOUT LONGISH HAIR LAYING ON YOUR SHOULDERS? </p><p>use jeweled combs, bobbies. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>em's talkeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09301679254168423548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4865564280797797941.post-4775864585467049962021-01-20T12:12:00.012-05:002021-01-21T13:49:35.994-05:00WHAT IFS.....<div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Dreams, ideas, recollections, wonderings are typical </div><div style="text-align: left;">"WHAT IFs"</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Imagination is a part of my life, work, creativity. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><b> WHAT IFS--</b>imaginary possibilities<b>--that's what I need to dig into. </b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Gotta let my mind meander around and find "hopes" that are here and there--"hopes" that found enough space here and there to lay around and find a spot where a small <b>H </b>like a seed, gets comfortable and grows like a seed, igoring its own sprouting tendril though even though you may sense it's growing larger. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Advice: </div><div style="text-align: left;">Skip over "THINGS WITH FEATHERS" - and Emily B<span>ronte's words and her recollections. We need the word. I</span> got bored with the topic having written about the topic more than twice. Just do it, and go into the whole discusssion all over again. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><h2 style="text-align: left;">Just do it. </h2><h1 style="text-align: left;"><u>H O P E</u></h1><div style="text-align: left;"><span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>em's talkeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09301679254168423548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4865564280797797941.post-48574620304784281932020-12-31T10:51:00.000-05:002020-12-31T10:51:09.696-05:00HOPE...A THING WITH FEATHERS<div style="text-align: left;"> hope.....</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4DTdw9OdLYM/X8puGUffUjI/AAAAAAAADxE/DE-zXclgAW89Q7BXN6I8Q797BcREbqi_ACLcBGAsYHQ/s885/Cartoon2a.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="430" data-original-width="885" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4DTdw9OdLYM/X8puGUffUjI/AAAAAAAADxE/DE-zXclgAW89Q7BXN6I8Q797BcREbqi_ACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Cartoon2a.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /> Big HOPES for the future are major </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I was hoping my first novel would be a best seller. It wasn't, but I was sigNed by an important agent <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rsKH0DDFzgY/TSdvjgzp3gI/AAAAAAAAANw/GSbJ9yRSBS0bfi0n3C2FPOT_c78lKYtzgCPcBGAYYCw/s856/em%2Bsss%2Bat%2Bcomputer.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="856" data-original-width="681" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rsKH0DDFzgY/TSdvjgzp3gI/AAAAAAAAANw/GSbJ9yRSBS0bfi0n3C2FPOT_c78lKYtzgCPcBGAYYCw/s320/em%2Bsss%2Bat%2Bcomputer.jpg" /></a></div><br />THE AGENT SENT OUT the summary or 'Splintered Heart" AND immediately received an offer from Bantam books. $2000 SEEMED LIKE A EXCELLENT FIGURE TO EARN...</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">My Bantam book didn't sell very well til we named it "SPLINTERED HEART" and then it SOLD <span> <span> QUITE WELL </span></span>ON AMAZON). WHO EVEN ARRANGED AN AUTHOR'S PAGE.</div><p>Guys, I SENSE THAT NOW IS THE TIME FOR THE VACCINES TO END THE PANDEMIC. </p><p>SHAREEN, JD, JOHN CULLUM & BERNADETTE --HOPEFUL AUTHOR EM PROCEEDED AND PUT UP THAT GREEN CLOTH EXPRESSING FEARLESSLY, LOUDLY, PRACTICALLY SHOUTING <b>THE VACCINES WILL END THE PANDEMIC</b>. </p><p><br /></p><p> </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>em's talkeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09301679254168423548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4865564280797797941.post-65273977560521151722020-11-23T11:31:00.000-05:002020-11-23T11:31:15.227-05:00WHY DON'T I FEEL LIKE WORKING? <div> My mind is muddied from too much talking. </div><div><br /></div><div>....too many ideas. </div><div><br /></div><div>....got Frankee, got her husband Mark Ryder... </div><div><br /></div><div>....got plenty of events planned as they become busier & more successful , but so what....? </div><div><br /></div><div>Actually it's sort of boring to explain that Frankee's<span> </span>husband begins to resent her because she choreographs and performs as a dancer, better than he does. It happens often with "TEAMS" in business together </div><div><br /></div><div>SO...why am I writing this ? Work at a keyboard isn't exciting. The page that ends up existing is not thrilling. There's no suspense. I am not bored with the plot but there's NOT more to describe. -</div><div><br /></div><div>Guys, it's a committment to write about myself. Not what I wear, or the lipstick, eye shadow, and glossy stuff that makes MY features gleam, I am determined to <b>reveal what I am, who I am and who, why, and what I do, or what aspects of what I do or don't do, is me -- THE REAL, REALLY TRULY ME. Why? </b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>Because it might inspire you, the reader, to talk realistically , comment realistically, reveal realistically why you visit the comments of so many strangers and spend a lot of time reading and pondering what they express. </b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>WHO IS THE REAL REALLY TRULY Y-O-U?</b></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>em's talkeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09301679254168423548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4865564280797797941.post-52035116096325137452020-11-19T13:33:00.001-05:002020-12-06T16:31:34.617-05:00 HUNGER AND MONEY TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS<div style="text-align: left;">The first time I stayed in New York City and took a summer course in ballet, (two classes a day) I stayed with Mrs. Graves. Mom figured I'd be happy and safe. Being the wealthy widow of one of my father's distinguished clients , MRS GRAVES OWNED ANAPARTMENT IN WASHINGTON SQUARE PARK and talked a lot about Life and Death--their thirty-year-old daughter was in the hospital for leukemia and not doing well. I learned BIG words from her, and street talk from her maid who fed me. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span> Alas, I was always hungry. Mom send me $7 week for food. At the automat I ate corn muffins and and leftovers . There was a market nearby at New York University. I selected fruit, squeezed it and put it back. Later I'd return, find the bruised fruit, hide it in one of my pockets, and gobble it up later. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span>I did a lot of walking but my feet were growing --my shoes were too small. .</div><div style="text-align: left;"> <span> </span><span> I</span> developed "'bitching corns" (the maid calls them that). </div><h1 style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> Actually living in the park, observing Greenwich Village inhabitants, </span>I've become quite an expert in aggrandizing whatever I seriously crave. hurray!!!</h1><h1 style="text-align: left;"> </h1>em's talkeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09301679254168423548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4865564280797797941.post-66824363814472780222020-11-14T14:41:00.873-05:002020-11-15T11:20:52.220-05:00NATHAN OGELSBY BUYS FRANKEE TOP NOTCH EVERYTHING <p> When we're dancing "Haunted Moments" we use a <u>Bose</u> amplifier. Our tapes are recorded on <u>Magnecorder</u>, at 15 inches per second. It provides the most realistic powerful sound you can get. </p><p>Mark dances the train , chugging into a station, utilizing deep MARTHA GRAHAM contractions. She says she loves the way Frankee dances to the cheering crowd sound--especially the 'economical use' she makes by doing just one low extension of a leg into a one very slow 'rondejambe.' </p><p>The famous Pilates actually came backstage the other day, when she performed 'LAUGHTER' at a fund raising benefit for Juilliard. They have become 'names' in dance. The life-size photo of Frankee in pink ballets slippers is on the main wall at Capezio's at Lincoln Center. When she told Pilates how Carola Trier, popular teacher in Manhattan had over-crowded classes, Pilates said in broken English, ''You need no teachings."</p><div style="text-align: left;">The Big BIG Deal is Jacques COSTEAU, French s<span face="Roboto, arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #4d5156;">cientist, photographer, author and researcher who studied all forms of life in water. After each performance Costeau hugged and kissed the team, and Mark Spitz, Olympic Swimmer, got Frankee on the cover of "Time" in a new costume Nathan hired a famous designer to create for her that 'Vogue' called "super chic." </span></div><div class="IThcWe" data-hveid="CAEQCQ" style="background-color: white; color: #70757a; display: table; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.58; margin: 5px 0px; table-layout: fixed; width: 600px;"><div class="YgpRwf" style="display: table-row; vertical-align: top; white-space: nowrap;"><div class="wFMWsc JCsJK" style="display: table-cell; overflow: hidden; padding-left: 0px; text-overflow: ellipsis; vertical-align: bottom; width: 300.366px;"><div style="overflow: hidden; text-align: left; text-overflow: ellipsis;"><br /></div></div></div></div><p><br /></p>em's talkeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09301679254168423548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4865564280797797941.post-57570824033540963092020-11-13T09:51:00.003-05:002020-11-27T14:00:00.455-05:00WHAT ARE AVERAGE NORMAL PEOPLE THINKING ABOUT<div style="text-align: left;"> ARE THEY THINKING ABOUT THANKSGIVING ? <span style="text-align: center;">It's always been one of our special holidays. My husband John Cullum loves to tell what I cooked for the first Thanksgiving we celebrated as a couple. In a flash I'm remembering how I make a spicy turkey--massaging the thawed cleaned bird with olive oil and headING for the spice shelf above the stove. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-wKp2zMPAQm8/X61R8KgyO-I/AAAAAAAADww/F5bhbziezZ4y2Zuqo-tXPTAjAtXnGi9dQCLcBGAsYHQ/image.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="428" data-original-width="640" height="214" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-wKp2zMPAQm8/X61R8KgyO-I/AAAAAAAADww/F5bhbziezZ4y2Zuqo-tXPTAjAtXnGi9dQCLcBGAsYHQ/image.png" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">I DID A GOOGLE SEARCH AND BUMPED INTO WHAT MY HUSBAND WROTE ABOUT THE HOLIDAY BACK IN 1914</div><div style="text-align: left;">"<span face="Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 13px;">The most memorable Thanksgiving dinner for me was the one a young redheaded dancer made for me in her Artist In Residence n studio in New York City. It wasn’t a turkey, just a large chicken, and it never occurred to me that this gorgeous girl could even cook, but boy, she could – all the trimmings, fresh cranberry sauce, stuffing, sweet potatoes, vegetables and all. I could hardly believe it. There she was, the best dancer I had ever seen, gracefully whirling around a tiny kitchen, whipping up a dinner as good as any I had ever eaten, and all for me. Never had a Thanksgiving meal been made exclusively for me and me alone, and with such love. It was an experience I couldn’t walk away from. And I never did. I guess Emily decided if I was going to keep hanging around, she might as well marry me. Which she did."</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Fact of life: Unless our son JD who lives in California flew home for the holiday spur of the moment, I am not cooking. I am very busy finishing the novel I've been writing all year online. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Anyhow, aren't most people today are thinking about survival; earning a living, and what our New President will be suggesting about "Wearing a mask." </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Since I specified <b>average normal, </b>what is average, normal? </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Are you? Am I?</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>em's talkeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09301679254168423548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4865564280797797941.post-68218371607788374922020-11-12T11:52:00.000-05:002020-11-13T13:48:04.202-05:00FUN DREAM<p> I WAS ABOUT TO BE MARRIED, BEING TAKEN TOTHE CEREMONY BY OUR SON JOHN DAVID. (ENVISION HIM as a GROWN UP VERSION OT THE INTENSELY FOCUSED BOY IN THE PHOTO I POST SOMETIMES, WHO IS DRINKING MILK FROM A BOTTLE I AM HOLDING AS HIS CONTENTED LOVING MOM..(<i>MY HAIR IN A BRAID (THAT LOOKS LIKE A CROWN</i>)</p><p>Yep, I was about to be married to the good looking man who was playing Mr. Chucky in the outdoor drama, (which I watched every night) --he definitely to seemed to like the way I coached him to have 'listening elbows' before doing cartwheels. HE SENT ME AN E MAIL PROPOSAL SUGGESTING, "DON'T CALL ME mR.CHUCKY....CALL ME BY MY NAME...'jOHN' -- ACTUALLY MY NAME IS "JOHN CULLUM." </p><p>In the dream I was thrilled. The fact is. the realme. Emily Frankel, ex dancer who is writing a novel on line that is almost finished, about a dancer named "Frankee," (<i>who wants to be the best dancer in the world</i> ) is clearly dreaming (<i>and still thrilled</i>) about her marriage to John Cullum.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>em's talkeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09301679254168423548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4865564280797797941.post-53841207322754709882020-11-11T10:59:00.001-05:002020-11-11T11:10:28.439-05:00favorite tv PM commentators<p> Nicolle wallace--so sympathic and tender even when she's not sympathetic. and Ari melber whom I especially enjoy observing his beard, in the course of an annoucement, growing darker/ AND THE ARTICULATEL REID "REPORT" GALE WITH HER MARVELOUS HAIR DO THAT KEEPS ME WONDERING IF HER HAIR IS REAL!!! EACH TIME ONE OF THESE THREE APPEARS I AM RIVETED. </p>em's talkeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09301679254168423548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4865564280797797941.post-90354510422416171702020-11-10T12:48:00.002-05:002020-11-10T12:55:54.318-05:00YOU ARE THE BOSS<div style="text-align: left;"> No one knows better than YOU what you want. Make a list"</div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7qHoXJu2pA8/X6rG6afnyYI/AAAAAAAADwA/m2d_ySleHZc1jTTeoJ1w4pn6jE1PfELJwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/AGEITTIS.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="318" height="150" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7qHoXJu2pA8/X6rG6afnyYI/AAAAAAAADwA/m2d_ySleHZc1jTTeoJ1w4pn6jE1PfELJwCLcBGAsYHQ/w159-h150/AGEITTIS.JPG" width="159" /></a> </div>1. fame/staus/<p></p><p>2. courage to do anything that crosses your mind</p><p>3. quit using a computer--it limits freedom.</p><div style="text-align: left;">4. pin the head of a gorgeous, go-anywhere butterfly to the rectangle that's your door.</div><div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">5. kill it? yes? no? black? or white? Do iT! Yep/nope/real/ or fake!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ARSoDmsCFB8/X6rMaXPq5ZI/AAAAAAAADwk/uIkkwilCKkAzEuebH8VL0ZaAkFiILFgWgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1878/alonedoddEmno%2BarmsPIC.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1587" data-original-width="1878" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ARSoDmsCFB8/X6rMaXPq5ZI/AAAAAAAADwk/uIkkwilCKkAzEuebH8VL0ZaAkFiILFgWgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/alonedoddEmno%2BarmsPIC.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>em's talkeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09301679254168423548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4865564280797797941.post-10929475606047484232020-11-09T12:42:00.015-05:002020-11-09T15:45:26.707-05:00THE REAL MR. CHUCKY<p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: white; color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Su22222222222222222</span><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3uCvnuZm0yo/Tza361A-qbI/AAAAAAAAAZM/c0O1hicg81INdsk13Wgxmot7lMXm49BNACPcBGAYYCw/s1600/bigify%2Bbrain%2Btilt.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1496" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3uCvnuZm0yo/Tza361A-qbI/AAAAAAAAAZM/c0O1hicg81INdsk13Wgxmot7lMXm49BNACPcBGAYYCw/s320/bigify%2Bbrain%2Btilt.jpg" /></a></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="background-color: white; color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: 700; white-space: pre-wrap;">22222222222222222</span></p><p></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-aeb24487-7fff-39ff-ceca-e366b9160aea"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">After Mark re-introduced himself to the star, Frankee mentioned the ten extra dancers. “We worried about hiring them, Mr. Chucky Jack. They’re not first class performers--they're...well...somewhat inept as ballet dancers, but choreographer Mark Ryder, my husband felt a stage packed with performers would be exciting, more impressive --actually, since the character you’re playing is a well-known Tennessee hero. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He nodded. Yes, a famous hero...” </span></p><div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yes. Most people who buy tickets have heard the name or read about “Chucky Jack” in the newspapers. Knoxville and Nashville are running ads and the extra dancers... </span></div><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Somewhat ’inept‘ like you said"... </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“So, maybe we don’t really need them. It might be a better number without them, Mr Chucky.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“It might be. But your husband has enabled me to work with them, and your guidance is invariably helpful with successive cartwheels, Mr. Chucky.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Mrs. Ryder, why don’t you just call me ‘John.’ My name, actually, is ‘John Cullum.’ </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></p><div><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div></span>em's talkeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09301679254168423548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4865564280797797941.post-35470870717632229802020-11-08T11:34:00.015-05:002020-11-08T14:27:10.587-05:00SISTER MIRIAM<div style="text-align: left;"> </div><span id="docs-internal-guid-f8d5cb50-7fff-f1c4-6dd0-79ffdcf35b02"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I first thought about creating a dance--- it was the Ballad of The False Lady. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">False Lady pretends an awful lot that she is very sexy even when she is not. It was a ballad that I heard someone sing when I was 13. More than anything I wanted to be a great ballet dancer. I wanted to be the greatest dancer in the world. I didn’t have the feet for it. That dream was the dream of a false Lady. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> came to NY in the summer from Harrisburg PA. My sister Miriam opened the grand piano, open all the doors and windows in our house and when my parents gave me permission to try a summer course in NYC at the Novikoff school of dance which advertised in Dance Magazine every month, Miriam opened all the doors and windows, put a record of the Romeo & Juliet overture on the record player--volume up, piano lid open she pretended she was playing and people stopped on the street to see and hear her.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I went on pointe too early when I was young. Miriam has a snapshot of me in my first ballet class outfit. There was something extraordinarily beautiful about my hands, my arms. At the end of the summer Novikoff told me and my parents I was a born ballerina. But when I returned to school I couldn’t walk without a lot of pain. Finally we consulted the best Doctor in Harrisburg. He said ”she will never be a dancer--she has </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">wrong</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> FEET FOR DANCING, </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Of course I Walked to and from school everyday. I was eleven. We were living near Indiantown Gap. I remembered Valse Trieste, EXCRUCIATINGLY sad music by Sibelious . While it was playing, some soldiers asked if I could dance for them. Thinking very sad thoughts, I circled the room where soldiers where they were sitting. They applauded., One soldier wiped his eyes with his handkerchief. .</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Despite </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">wrong</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> feet, I allow myself to think about dancing that sad circle in pink satin toe shoes. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></p></span>em's talkeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09301679254168423548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4865564280797797941.post-57160754380047014212020-11-07T17:20:00.020-05:002020-11-07T19:35:27.627-05:00THE STAGE CREW SAYS HE MISSED A SHOW <div style="text-align: left;"> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0IAILOmgJGM/X6Wbr_Rx0KI/AAAAAAAADvc/CdUDYnBlQsEJu58e1S6WMcOmLkdOGmawgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1065/1617679_733835359993882_979862165_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1065" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0IAILOmgJGM/X6Wbr_Rx0KI/AAAAAAAADvc/CdUDYnBlQsEJu58e1S6WMcOmLkdOGmawgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/1617679_733835359993882_979862165_o.jpg" /></a></div><br />Why would he miss doing the show? Does he have a cold? Maybe on of his legs hurts...those three successive cartwheels could be wearing him out? Maybe he had an agent or a manager here to discuss another job in the winter? If I had seen the opening number of the show that the stage crew said he missed I could phone him and ask if he's feeling okay....Or call him. And ask what he's thinking about doing this winter. Since we're friends he might like to talk about his plans. I wonder if he knows how to reach me in New York. I could write down the numbers and give them to one of the stage managers in case there's some sort of emergency.... that's what I should do, yes--that's what I'll do....maybe I'll see what Mom says.... </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div>em's talkeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09301679254168423548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4865564280797797941.post-48347818541275930912020-11-02T13:22:00.001-05:002020-11-02T13:22:01.291-05:00ON STAGE IN SPOLETO <div>FRANKEE WAS WEARING A FAVORITE BLUE OUTFIT THAT USUALLY BROUGHT HER COMPLIMENTS. BUT THE BIGWIGS IN CHARGE OF THE FESTIVAL SEEMED TO BE AVOIDING HER.</div><div> </div><div>They were seated here and there in the empty theater.</div><div><br /></div><div> Menotti reset his watch. Barber sorted festival pamphlets, while the famous Benjamin Britten was studying a piece of sheet music, talking out loud to himself. </div><div><br /></div><div> FRANKEE WAS SWEATING. It was a hot afternoon and everyone was standing too close to her. She kept wishing she'd borrowed her husbands double-breasted jackets --it would hide what she was wearing. </div><div><br /></div><div>Suddenly, out of the blue, somebody said "Cut the damn introduction--it's redundant." Menotti nodded. Britten vociferrously agreed. </div><div><br /></div><div>FRANKEE AT THE EDGE OF THE STAGE, A POWERFUL GIRL-WOMAN SAID "YOU INVITED ME HERE. I CREATED WHAT YOU ASKED ME TO CREATE ABOUT THE WRITER AS THE WAR BEGAN --YOU'LL HEAR AND SEE HIM. I WILL NOT CUT ANYTHING.<b> </b></div><div><br /></div><div>THE PRE- REORDED MUSIC FILLED THEATER AS FRANKEE, IN HER "ACTRESS TONE OF VOICE," INTRODUCED AN IMAGINARY FAMILY. </div><div><span> </span> "MY MOTHER--" (a spotlight fades up. as if encircling her). "MY FATHER--" (spotlight comes on). "MY UNCLE--" (another spot comes on). "MY AUNT --(another spotlight) </div><div><br /></div><div>The music has sounds of street car horns honking as welll as cars. Frankee enacts in childlike dance movments that includes somersalts, childish turns, and cartwheels. The vision of those circles on the floor becomes a real reality. </div><div><br /></div><div>The light that encircles each member of the writer's family remains on, and the family is always there as writer James Agee words as danced (mimed) by Frankee as he recalls the summer of 1915. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>em's talkeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09301679254168423548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4865564280797797941.post-84947666259566429672020-11-01T13:48:00.000-05:002020-11-01T13:48:03.889-05:00NATHAN OGELSBY <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QLFY_kDedck/X5xYmiBX9mI/AAAAAAAADvQ/KpjVc8KU_aIbD21eqeg_tBDkiZ8D2ye4ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1065/1617679_733835359993882_979862165_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1065" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QLFY_kDedck/X5xYmiBX9mI/AAAAAAAADvQ/KpjVc8KU_aIbD21eqeg_tBDkiZ8D2ye4ACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/1617679_733835359993882_979862165_o.jpg" /></a></div>"Who the hell is this Nathan Ogelsby guy who keeps phoning you, Frankee? Ogelsby told me called you three time today because he loves your voice."<div><br /></div><div>"He wants to invest in the team Mark."</div><div><br /></div><div> "Frankee, he told me that when he aked you to marry him, you said <b>yes!</b> " </div><div><p></p><p>"Mark, he's a very nice guy with a ton of money."</p><p>"You said <b>Yes</b>? Are you sleeping with him Frankee ?"</p><p>"My goodness, of course not. He paid the rent once when we couldn't pay the rent." </p><p></p><p>"FRANKIE, YOU are MARRIED!" </p><p>" Nate said his lawyers could dissolve the marriage. MARK. They'll open "Haunted Moments" at the Longacre Theater -- the Bijou theater is too small."</p><p>"'Haunted Moments' -- your choreography to sound effects ? You're referring to the new work that you said was going to make us 'big names' in the dance world?" </p><p>"I didn't promise --I just said there might be a part for his ex wife."</p><p>"Frankee, how long have you known his guy?"</p><div style="text-align: left;">"He gave me a ring after I danced False Lady on Trudy Goth's showcase. I gave it to MOM. She says its quite tiny, but it's a genuine diamond. 1/2 carat. He gave me a much bigger diamond in a pink velvet box that I keep in my underwear drawer. I'll wear it when I meet his family. </div><p><br /></p><p></p><p><br /></p><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>retured from gatlinburg</p><p><br /></p></div>em's talkeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09301679254168423548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4865564280797797941.post-63824114153078773752020-08-16T11:32:00.025-04:002020-10-08T16:56:51.148-04:00LETTER FROM ITALY <div style="text-align: left;">FRANKEE, ENTERING THE BACKSTAGE AREA WAS patting he SWEAT ON HER NECK. </div><div style="text-align: left;">"Why a I here tonight--its too hot--flowers every where, buds on the bushes--its overwhelming me .\tjeremust be twenty thouand peoplel fstill in theirseats , </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">entering the area, the star of the show was k, pattimg with patting himself with awashcloth grinned at her. " I must haesigned 1000 autograph books beofre I could get outof my dressing room "my oh my that's a pretty yelow dreass your wearing.." </div><p>He pointed to his eheek.ng? isitbleeding I think I cut myself when I was shaving . </p><p>frankee moved closer to him to see the cut, while Mark surrounded bythe eight extra daners asked tithe kissed cheeks andsked " Is anybody hungry fir dinner no?'</p><p>theydiscussed food --an error someopne made, one o the extra and teh opeing number that Mark ha been fiing. Onof the exxtras had suggested that she and 3 others could do mo32 fouettes--a giggle creative chit chat esued , whie frankee ,standing ext tothestar tilteded her head studying the wound on hi cheek....</p><p>Pronoucing her diagnosis frankee said "it will heal" fans were beginnng to arrive fill the stars dressing room </p><p>mR.CHUCK declared loudly, rankee wee you siting on pillows. You loked ik a aazoj queen wenyou parked the statio wagon. <strike>TOLD FRANEE YOU WERE ITTING SOTALL WHE YIU RRIVE ITHAAT STATIONWAGOE </strike></p><p>pupupupipi pupupupipi pupupupipi</p><p>i"It's not a wagon , Marksaid, It's was A HALF TON TRUCK Ttil they installed HAT RACK ON THE ROOF WERE COSTUMESTRUNKS AD A RAIATR INTHE CENTER..fRNKENODDED ,,iTS JSUT A FORD..VERY CONVENIENT--THE OTHER CARE ISA SECODN HAND PLYMOUTH--</p><p>EVER DRIVE THE pLYMOUTH </p><p>FRANKIE NODDED UT SHE COULDN STOP THINKING ABOUT HIS SKIN AND THE WAY HE TILTE HIS HEADS TI SHIW HER THE SALLCUT,,,TO HERSEF THINKG SURELY THIS STAR HAS A GRLFREND ,,OES SHE KNOW iM HERE, i WONDER IF TEHRE;SSOMENE WAIING FR HI t the to of the him..</p><p><br /></p><p>with the oerfume un teh air D GREENTHINGS GROWINGAL AROUND THEM FRANKEE FOUND ERSKF <i>THINING THIS ACTOR KLIKES E.."</i></p><p>THE BOX OFCE MANAGER BARGED IN waving a whie eelop</p><p><br /></p><p>THE BOX OFFICE EMANGER SAID "MR. RYDER, THIS LETTER ARRIVED YESTERDAY ADDRESSED YOUR WIFE." </p><p>THE THICK LINEN EXPENSIVE ENVELOPE TOLD <strike>FRANKEE AND</strike> MARK IT WAS IMPORTANT.</p><p>FRANKEE CAREFULLY OPENED THE ENVELOPE, SKIMMED THE TWO PAGE ENCLOSURE. </p><p><br /></p><p> 'Mark, i read read the first page, tand the secodn --you read them hen read the second. We've received a very prestigious invitation--the Annual Arts Festival 'du Spoleto has asked me to perform--they sent me a script. It's a famous quote from writer James Agee. I'll read you my script. (Frankee ennunciated the words like an actress.) "We are talking now of summer evenings in Knoxville Teneessee, 1915, the time I lived there so successfully disguised to myself as a child."</p><p>"Sounds like a big break for you, Mrs. Ryder," the Star said, as heRE ENTEED entered the backstage area. </p><p>Frankee flattered that Mr. Chucky knew she was married. "Yep! My first acting credit. It's a little scary--I stand up on the arms an old Rocking Chair and reach up, up--up to the Gods above...when the chair arrives maybe you'll see me rehearsing it."</p><p>I will. And You'll be watching me do cartwheels in the show tonight--that's scary--your husband's certainly made the opening number more spectactular!" successive cartwheels with a stage fille with 8 extra dancers ??</p><p>Mark Ryder said, "W\hen the outdrama closes end of the summer, maybe you can see Frankee acting and dancing in in Spoleto." (if we can getthe management to get us tickets for the travel and front row seasts for the show. got tickets for the show. ere</p><p><br /></p><p>pupupupupupuppupuuuupupupu</p><p><br /></p>em's talkeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09301679254168423548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4865564280797797941.post-34343530809908470572020-08-13T15:15:00.003-04:002020-08-16T14:17:57.553-04:00WHAT DO YOU FRET ABOUT-- YOUR AGE OR YOUR WEIGHT? <p> JOHN SAID HE TELLS PEOPLE "I don't know my wife's age. </p><p>C'MON, I KNOW HIS AGE, AND HIS HEIGHT, WEIGHT, SHOE SIZE, PAN'T SIZE, HAT SIZE, --ALSO WHAT SIZE UNDERWEAR TO PURCHASE. ALSO, WHAT SIZE SPORTS JACKET FITS HIM.</p><p>Wrist size? Of course I know what wrist-watch he'd like, though he wears a digital timex. He loves rings. especially our tall (below the knuckle) 18 karat solid gold wedding rings that we rarely wear because they are ucomfortable. He likes cufflinks, including the 3/4 inch fancy pair that has a floral pattern. </p><p>I used to shop for his sweaters at the 17th street Barney' before it closed--greens, browns, never purple--purple clashes with his skin tone. Now there's two Brooks Brothers within walking distance but the dresser where we keep his sweaters is jammed and has to be left open for at least 4 days till the moth ball smell fades into tolerable.</p><p>Currently he buys exercise outfits for me in Greewich Village, last Xmas--an extra warm, extra large, flannel Salmon-colored exercise outfit that makes me feel like a big something or other who escaped from a tank. I gave it to his oldest, wisest sister, Lee Gunter who brags--"the moment my brother saw this outfit, he bought it for ME! Lee Gunter wore it with the 6 turquoise necklaces brother John gave her for her 50th birthday last year. </p><p> HE BUYS THINGS FOR ME LIKE THAT, SO LEE GUINTER CAN WEAR THEM. I WONDER IF I CAN BORROW THE NECKLACES? THEY'D LOOK GREAT ON ME IN ONE OF MY JOGGING SUITS. <i> </i>I WEAR DIFFERENT STYLE SUIT EVERY DAY. COULD THAT BE WHY MY HUSBAND DOESN'T KNOW MY AGE? YES! Every time I look different, we have to figure out who I really am again. It's quite titilating for someone who's been married for 8, going on 9 years. </p><p>TITILATING? HEY, ITS FUN!!!!!!!!!!!!</p><p><br /></p>em's talkeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09301679254168423548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4865564280797797941.post-2778694917629603022020-08-05T11:10:00.000-04:002020-08-05T11:10:11.014-04:00GRABBING THE DAY<div> GO FOR IT. BE SURPRISED, BEWILDERED, SHOCKED, OR AMUSED BY WHAT'S AHEAD, LOOKING BEYOND WHOMEVER IS WAITING IN LINE, STANDING ON TIPPY TIP-TOES AS YOU STRETCH LONG, REACH HIGH OR PALM THE FLOOR, SMILING YOUR MOST CONFIDENT SMILE, WHILE EATING A CHOCOLATE BAR OR TWO. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /><br /></div></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b style="text-align: center;">CONCENTRATE </b><b style="text-align: center;"> </b></div></div></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><div> </div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b style="text-align: center;"> SNAG </b></div></div></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><h4 style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><i>DON'T JUST HANG AROUND</i></span></b><b style="text-align: center;"><i> </i></b></h4></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><h1 style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><u><span style="text-align: center;"><b>Be your </b></span><b style="text-align: center;">REALLY TRULY REAL G</b></u><u><b style="text-align: center;">RABBER SELF</b></u></h1></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2j2ojkbA18c/Xyq6e6JMJ8I/AAAAAAAADmc/9YCketHwRsc6l2Tf-fsCdESb6r3ClpC8QCLcBGAsYHQ/s347/Clock2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><b></b></a><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2j2ojkbA18c/Xyq6e6JMJ8I/AAAAAAAADmc/9YCketHwRsc6l2Tf-fsCdESb6r3ClpC8QCLcBGAsYHQ/s347/Clock2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"></a><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZXDs9KvN6iQ/Xyq_yqBwzKI/AAAAAAAADm0/AjLw3BjciwAgUVsZXCM_xq4VSVs7do3UgCLcBGAsYHQ/s450/ALIEN5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="437" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZXDs9KvN6iQ/Xyq_yqBwzKI/AAAAAAAADm0/AjLw3BjciwAgUVsZXCM_xq4VSVs7do3UgCLcBGAsYHQ/s0/ALIEN5.JPG" /></a></div></b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2j2ojkbA18c/Xyq6e6JMJ8I/AAAAAAAADmc/9YCketHwRsc6l2Tf-fsCdESb6r3ClpC8QCLcBGAsYHQ/s347/Clock2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2j2ojkbA18c/Xyq6e6JMJ8I/AAAAAAAADmc/9YCketHwRsc6l2Tf-fsCdESb6r3ClpC8QCLcBGAsYHQ/s347/Clock2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2j2ojkbA18c/Xyq6e6JMJ8I/AAAAAAAADmc/9YCketHwRsc6l2Tf-fsCdESb6r3ClpC8QCLcBGAsYHQ/s347/Clock2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2j2ojkbA18c/Xyq6e6JMJ8I/AAAAAAAADmc/9YCketHwRsc6l2Tf-fsCdESb6r3ClpC8QCLcBGAsYHQ/s347/Clock2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2j2ojkbA18c/Xyq6e6JMJ8I/AAAAAAAADmc/9YCketHwRsc6l2Tf-fsCdESb6r3ClpC8QCLcBGAsYHQ/s347/Clock2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2j2ojkbA18c/Xyq6e6JMJ8I/AAAAAAAADmc/9YCketHwRsc6l2Tf-fsCdESb6r3ClpC8QCLcBGAsYHQ/s347/Clock2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2j2ojkbA18c/Xyq6e6JMJ8I/AAAAAAAADmc/9YCketHwRsc6l2Tf-fsCdESb6r3ClpC8QCLcBGAsYHQ/s347/Clock2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2j2ojkbA18c/Xyq6e6JMJ8I/AAAAAAAADmc/9YCketHwRsc6l2Tf-fsCdESb6r3ClpC8QCLcBGAsYHQ/s347/Clock2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a></div></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b style="display: inline !important; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2j2ojkbA18c/Xyq6e6JMJ8I/AAAAAAAADmc/9YCketHwRsc6l2Tf-fsCdESb6r3ClpC8QCLcBGAsYHQ/s347/Clock2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: inline !important; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;">BOLDNESS</a></b></div></div></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><div> </div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2j2ojkbA18c/Xyq6e6JMJ8I/AAAAAAAADmc/9YCketHwRsc6l2Tf-fsCdESb6r3ClpC8QCLcBGAsYHQ/s347/Clock2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: inline !important; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"> <b>BRAVERY</b> </a></div></div></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><div style="text-align: left;"><b>FEARLESSNESS</b></div></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><span id="docs-internal-guid-6cfbd2f0-7fff-6cf5-b501-10d5424fdf5e"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></blockquote></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /></div>em's talkeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09301679254168423548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4865564280797797941.post-13283631251178908192020-08-03T22:20:00.004-04:002020-08-04T12:22:06.788-04:00SAYING GOODNIGHT TO PEOPLE I LOVEWho? <div><br /></div><div><b>WELL OF COURSE JOHN CULLUM. </b><div><div><br /></div><div>If I count how many years we've been together it tells a private tale of when and how we got together --revealing enough about how old we are, so that I need to behave like a sensible, contented older woman, but ....but I shared the whole day with you--you brew the coffee and make sure there's extra packets of sweetner cause you know I want it extra sweet but won't use sugar ever since my dancing days when I watched my weight scrupulously. Did most things scrupulously. Yes, everything that's sweet is made sweeter with artifical sweetner and you always make sure it's on the table ----the sugar packets--cause I Iike it sweet, and I shared this day with you--the steak you cooked for my supper that YOU didnt really want to eat, but ate smothered with kethup. Anyway, you know me so well I don't bother to pretend to be sensible, and can don my silliness or kiss your hands when you figure it's time for me to have an "activia" strawberry yogurt. Yes, you watchover me; I decided to pull togther the book I am writing on line with the help of WHO--well of course it's Shareen. Brilliant, creative sister daughter dearest truly best friend who married and divorced our son JD who lives way way out west and puts photos of sunsets on his facebook posts--she loves him, I love him and who and what he really is now a days, well I can only sort of imagine. Not ask 'tho I think he is inside and outside a idea man, a deeply philosophical man-man. So therefore, also ignoring typos I want to say goodnight to Jd and Shareen and John my husband and say grab tomorrow -- with all the confusing woeful things that are heating up--covid, Trump, open or don't open schools etcetera -- you don't need a list---just grab tomorrow and live. I am with you and love you hugely. </div><div><br /></div></div></div><div><br /></div>em's talkeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09301679254168423548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4865564280797797941.post-50442857222847129982020-07-26T12:29:00.006-04:002020-07-26T18:46:46.712-04:00ME AND JOHN <div>I think about this special guy (John Cullum every day--if there was/ is/ a watchful, listening LORD above us, I bet he would approve. Since I am thinking and writing about THE REAL ME, you are getting the story about me --"The Real Me,'" ---and also getting the story of Frankee Ryder, a passionately committed girl/woman who very early in her life, always ALWAYSwrote on the bathroom mirror. </div><div><br /></div><div>Frankee didn't budge till the letters on the mirror melted and ran together-- <i>I WILL DANCE TILL I DIE</i>-- <b>I W D T I D</b> ...</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-glFyaRQdQ5I/XxHHgdffbtI/AAAAAAAADjw/YPhao8EsHy4hc9YwKd16zwqBfFL_dpv5wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1303/John%2B6.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1303" data-original-width="932" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-glFyaRQdQ5I/XxHHgdffbtI/AAAAAAAADjw/YPhao8EsHy4hc9YwKd16zwqBfFL_dpv5wCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/John%2B6.jpg" /></a></div></div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">(<i>Wish there were a way I could ramble on in upper and lower case with what I'm typing and NOT use caps: Our son JD (John David Cullum) says when you write in caps, you are shouting. Although I am not shouting, right now I am sharing a few moments when I feel <b>this is really me.</b>) </i></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">If right now I am <i>REALLY ME</i>, declaring it like JD said, what can you grab onto from this "shout?" </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">You are possibly rabbing it, understanding what I'm saying loudly right now</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><span> </span><span> </span>(<i>Please, read this with dramatic energy)</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> <b> I wanted to be a <i>great dancer</i> more than anything in the world and I did it!</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>em's talkeryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09301679254168423548noreply@blogger.com0