Tasting Her Cherries

“Well the girl sitting at the other table said, “I know you Communists are all alike!” which made me reply, “I

Lola and her significant other were spending quality time on their Veranda, inspecting the concrete and dreaming of a window, and its wall, far far away!

“She probably said that, because I was wearing my Classic Red T-shirt, “The Reel Thing, which was of course the motto of the Healy Fishing Club, which I was one of the floundering members!”

Lola just frowned then said, “The Reel Thing?” Sounds suspiciously like a well-known soft drink, which also is red, just lacking the Communist undertones!”

“She asked me to keep my wandering fingers to myself, but I was so enamored by her, that I just had to taste her cherries, which made her say, “I

“Were you two involved in this activity in broad daylight, or were you sequestered away in some private corner of your “love den” before, or just after you and I met that warm winter day in December?”

“Lola. I know how jealous you get, when I talk about other women, but we don’t need to make up stories about the first time, you and I met, do we?”

“Well, OK, since you asked, it might have been Olivine, who I had met, but she ended up saying, “Touch my cherries without my permission? Mother warmed me about men like you, and

“You mean, she warned her, and not warmed her?”

“Gosh Lola. It might have been in that little Ice Café that used to lie on the corner of Healy and Clear Boulevards? I was just as young and innocent as a winter’s day is long, but Olivine was said to have tasted a few fudge-sickles before she she took a flying leap at my body, but missed and fell into the Nenana River! Well, the hole of the town of Healy……..yes, Healy Alaska was out dreading the river, when a call came out from down below! It was Olivine hanging onto a branch, while the rest of the search party were taking a coffee break, saying things like “What about those Canadians, huh?” Well, she said, I needed to make a rope out of my clothing, which meant that the last vestige of my dignity being my read underwear, which made her explain, “I knew you were of that ilk!”

“Tell me then, Rumwall. When did she fall into the river? You started out by tasting her cherries, then were sipping hot drinks on a cold day at that Ice Café and the next thing you know, you are standing there Buck Naked on the banks of the Nenana River, most likely not in the dread of winter, with her looking up at the last vestiges of your dignity, displayed for the whole of the world to see, while while…..

“Is that a crack in my new concrete slab?”Lola peered at something that resembled something else, but he just

-but that thought was interrupted by a voice, so familiar, and yet one that had been missing as of late….

“Lola my love, and her significant other, Rumwall! And how are you too doing this fine day?”

“Armand, is that a crack in the concrete?” asked the man whose sordid tail of lust in the afternoon, evening and most likely the morning as well, that occurred way back when in the spring, winter, summer and fall was fading into yet another blog, that might be residing on the bottom of their parrot’s cage, while it just squaked and said, “Rumwall, want a cracker?”

“Well, it’s not a crack per se, but more of a rip in the fabric of this story as a hole!”

“That makes less sense than the person that implied that it did!” said Lola, who now wondered why Armand wandered into this story, confusing things with yet another story line, like that!

“Well, Olivine said, “I’ve always fantasized about seeing the nakedness of your skin, but now I am only concentrated on that particular scar, on or about your left thigh, wondering who was that woman, and why did she mark you for life?”

“I then told her, Olivine, I

“Wait a minute. If you had that tell-tail scar way back when, before Moi, and even before that hussy, Olivine, then how did you get it in the first place?”

Armand just stood there looking at the incision in the concrete saying, “Oh, were you saying something Lola? I was just contemplating how Rumwall looked in his bear nakedness, and if the poets would be weeping at that sight?”

Lola replied, “His name is not Rumwall, but why the heck not call Mr Nameless something like that, eh?”

“Gosh Lola. That scar came about when Rumwall started to run around in circles, biting his tail, when someone knocked at the door with me answering it, with the person saying, “Can I use your phone Buddy? My car was just hit by a landslide caused by that mine-shaft explosion, and I fear that-

“We have moved onwards from that mine-shaft story, which means you are convoluting the truth one again, doesn’t it?”

Armand just looked up and replied, “So are you going to show us that scar, or do I have to wait for a personal and private showing…….?”

Having Had

When I was a younger man growing up in Healy, the day came for me for my first date. She was a lovely girl, who loved to wear dresses steeped in the Tea-fad of the time, known as “The Flea Chronicles!”

Lola had just about put the finishing touches on yet another masterpiece, when her better half decided to relate one of those stories from his past, which may or may not have included her, but then, sometimes it’s better to order the meal, without thinking about how the dessert tastes afterwards!

“What a lovely metaphor” said his mate of many years, but who didn’t, couldn’t quite relate it to the story at hand, nor the details of their lives so far, nor was it related to the television program, which had enthralled them the night before, but which is not entirely related to the story at hand, nor any of its fingers!

My mother cried a bit into her handkerchief, which by the way had been manufactured at the Healy Hanky Company, located perilously close to, but not quite including the outer municipality of Healy Alaska, outside of which raged the wiles of the world, and its consort! Dad, or Father said, “If you keep crying like that, I might need to turn you in for a newer model, which caused my mother, or Mom to say, “Make it a convertible, won’t you! I love the feel of the wind in my hair!”

Lola looked at him as he wove his tail, but wondered all the same about the girl he was about to meat, wondering if she too would fall for his whimsical nature, and love of anything to do with Tundra Fleas?!

Jade was uncommonly uncommon, making the other boys want her for her looks, while I was wondering if a lad like me, not having had the luck to have struck such a jem such as her, still wondered if anyone else had?

“Is this the story of your pugilistic past, or are we dug down deep in your love of women with classy mineral names again?”

My mother said, “They would make a nice couple woodn’t they?” Making my father say, “Their crystal lattices don’t coincide, but he still might figure out how to reveal her natural qualities, if you no what I’m saying?”

Dad, or Father then pinched my mother, somewhere south of the Arctic Circle, making her say, “Oh have we traveled there again?”

My father just laughed, then said,….but that doesn’t help to explain the story, now does it?”

Lola was wondering if she should skip the main course and hit the dessert instead, but then although her sugar cravings would be satisfied, she would still want something else, more long-lasting and

Well, I walked to the main road, and pulled out my index finger, hoping some courageous sole, would stop and give a lad the ride of his life, but Jade was still waiting for me out on the outwash gravels to the south of Healy, which

“Don’t you mean, you held your thumb out, wanting someone to take you, like I took you that time, when the Tundra Fleas were mating, and you said, “Well, what about Mr 9-14 times, I wasn’t to mention again, when I said, “Well, I’ll be taking you for a ride, just about how he took me, but before he was able to perform his duty, he had fallen down and had broken his thumb, which ended our relationship rather quickly, which made me take to the road, which is how I happened upon the obviously older lad, who

“Gosh Lola. I was still young and innocent when you took me for that ride, but you are constantly trying to convince me and others, that you were younger and innocenter than everyone else!”

-is actually not a real word, but if you are referring to how you were the one who was innocentee, and I was the innocenter-er, then that would explain a lot of things, woodn’t it?”

“Gosh Lola. I get all ooky every time you start to sound like me, while I start to sound like, well someone else, but I guess, that means that we were mate for each other, woodn’t it?”

“Watch out with that Mate business, Matey, or I might luse my temper, and you don’t want that to happen, due yu?”

“I almost want to pinch you, where my father pinched my mother, but I’m afraid you’ll tell me, what she told him, when they went into the spare bedroom, and locked the door behind them!”

“Well. What did she tell him?” asked Lola wondering if it would satisfy her growing hunger, or was it just another

“I couldn’t hear what she said, what with the door closed and everything, but that doesn’t tell the rest of my story, does it?”

“Cake it is then!” announced Lola, as she pushed him aside, and went into the kitchen looking for something, anything to satisfy her urges, with or without knowing what happened in his story!”

“Almost the same thing Jade said to me, when I finally showed up! “If you didn’t bring anything to satisfy me, then why did you come in the first place?”

“Well” said Lola, pausing in the consumption of her sweet dreams to say, “Why did you come in the first place?”

-Well, I would have answered her, but you were honking the car horn outside, which made me lose my concentration, and….”


“Stop right there mister and tell me why you are going outside in the pouring rain with a filled watering can in your right hand!”

“Gosh Lola. If you didn’t notice by now, the weather station begs to disagree with you about the supposed rain outside! According to the relative humidity, there is only 99% moisture outside, so I need to water the concrete slab, so it doesn’t dry out, cracking like an egg that…..now how does that idiom go anyway?”

-stopping to apply an extra thick layer of Moose Cream, then continuing outside, where he

“Why in the world are you protecting your skin, of which there is hardly any visible, against the clouds, the rain and the-

“Why in the world?”

“Lola. Just look right here. This wiki says that Moose Burn can still penetrate the most ardent defenses, with 99% humidity being the border between right and rong!”

“Give me that tablet! Why does the author of such claptrap just happen to be you, who by the way isn’t in his right mind, no matter how rong that differs from you sense of reality!”

“Uh Lola. I don’t mean to correct you, but you’ve spelled rong incorrectly! It should be ronng with the emphasis on the second n!”

“I merely repeated what you had rongged me with in the first place, but let me open the door for you OK, before you trip on your way out!”

“Gosh Lola. That’s darned nice of you seeing as how I could have ended up croupled or worse!”

“Croupling is not a real word, is it?”

-while perusing his Kenai Boy’s Book of Knowledge, he said, “A fall that occurs in connection with the improper application of Moose Cream, might result in a crippling action, or if two parts are involved, then croupling might occur!”

“So if we decided to part ways” said Lola, while she looked outside at the pool of water spilling over the edge from the concrete slab, “Which we won’t, then I’ll be able to say……Why, pray tell, did we start this conversation in the first place?”

“Wait a minute Mister” she said, as he started to come back inside, “You missed a corner over there!”

“Gosh Lola. This reminds me of that discussion we had last night in bed, when you said, “You missed putting something in the corner pocket over there! While I said……Uh Lola. Were we really playing pool, or what do you gals call that kind of activity today, anyways?”

Lola felt as if she were behind the 8-ball again, but still felt, if he had chalked up his stick and aimed it correctly ,then he might just get lucky, and she would as well, if he only……”We were not playing pool, you Dolt! But that doesn’t mean that I applauded your aim, seeing as how it took you 5, no 7 times to

“Well, we can try again tonight, just after you apply, my Moose Burn Moisturizer, which – reading the label – works well, lifting and separating the pain from the burn, giving you cross-your-heart relief in minutes or less!”

Lola thought that description fit to something else, but she couldn’t quite put his finger on just what?

-stopping to test the moisture content of the concrete, then saying, “Just think of it Lola, when we start to put a rufe on this puppy, we can appease the evil spirit by “topping out” the top, as it were!” *

“Look you. We are not Scandinavians, nor are we superstitious enough to worry about such things, unless of course you’ve poured the slab on an ancient Moose Burial Ground?!”

“That kind of thinking is putting the horse behind the cart, if you know where I’m coming from?” said then turned around 180 degrees, now watering his mate instead of

“Put that hose where the sun don’t shine, you Dolt!”

“Gosh Lola. That is the exact same thing you said to me the other night, when I was perusing my Kenai Boy’s Book of Knowledge, looking for the Scandinavian word for “Moose Burn!”


“But if there are evil spirits at work here, then we can let our fingers dance through the yellow pages, and get a hold of a qualified Shammy who will drive those evil spirits out of town, most likely in his Chevrolet Pick-up, with imitation Moose Fur Padding and a pair of horns that would make any guy green with envy, whatever that means?”

“For your information, the word in question is Chamois!”

“Is that Sha-mi, or Sham-wa?” asked the man whose hose was now finished watering the water, his mate, and anything else, not including an agile goat-antelope commonly found in Europe!

“A common what?” asked the woman, whose knowledge of agile goat-antelopes was limited to, well it was limited, OK?

“If I were you Argyle, I’d end this blog before someone close by decides to sock you!”

“Gosh Lola. I couldn’t have said it better, myself!”


** Chamois – An agile goat-antelope with short hooked horns, found in mountainous areas of Europe from Spain to the Caucasus (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chamois)

Only the Homely

The girl that was left behind was one to remember, though I doubt that she remembered me! It was one summer long, long ago, when I

“Was I around that summer, or are you just making up things as you blow along, again?”

“Gosh Lola. You might not know it, but there was a girl or two before I met you. Helen was her name, and she-

“Helen what? If I might be so bold in asking?” replied Lola as she took her pen and paper out and started to write.

“Helen wouldn’t like me revealing her name, seeing as how you looked up my other girlfriends and threatened them with your rifle, just because they let me fix their bike chain, when it had fallen off!”

“I did not threaten that girl. I was merely making inquiries as to your name, when her father and his motorcycle band came out of their meeting room and told me to take a rolling roll at a Maple Bar from the Moose is Loose Bakery in Upper Soldotna!”

“Well, I met Helen when I was employed at the Homer Home for the Homely, and I was just a lowly weed-planter, while she was a-

“You mean, you were a weed-weeder, don’t you?” said Lola, as she wondered if anyone she’d known could be classified as homely, as she swirled her hair and laughed that thought off!

“No. I was a planter of weeds, but that kind of specialized work is often taken over by foreigners today, who can’t get the cushy jobs like cleaning toilets, and making beds! Helen wasn’t at all as homely as the other girls, and one day, she said, “Horace, I”

“Aha! So your name is Horace, is it?” smiled Lola, while she wondered if that would change the balance of power, when he was making his best moves in bed, and she needed to utter his name in a feverish state of……but Horace?

“No. That was the name of the Manager of the HHfH who

“Why wasn’t it the HHftH? Why wood you include the “f” and not the “t”? wondered the woman who was one step closer to finding out his name, though he didn’t suspect her intentions at the time!

“Well, probably because they couldn’t name it after something that had that name in the first place, could they? Why take the HHH, they-

“I’ll bite. What is the HHH?” asked Lola, who actually didn’t care, but what is in a name, anyway?

“Why everyone in Homer knows about the Homer Halibut Haberdashers, don’t they? Why they woodn’t hesitate to throw down the gauntlet, or the handkerchief for that matter and start a lawsuit, or a law ascot with just a drop of the hat, or cap as it might have been!”

“Are we getting somewhere with this retailing, or shouldn’t I just go back to bed, while I practice saying your unknown name a time or two, getting ready for the next time that we….

“Well, Helen’s father told her that anyone who wanted to jump her bones, she should consider their proposal, as women in her situation, being homely and all, needed someone to love and care for them, seeing as how they didn’t get the same kind of attention at home!”

“She told me one day, which by the way, was the last time that I laid eyes on her, that she was leaving the HHfH along with Herbert, who wasn’t the best looking boy in town, but she still was happy enough I guess? I remember that day as if it were 10 years ago, which it was, when she said, “Hector, I-“

“So it’s Hector, is it now?” asked Lola who had already tired of thinking that Horace would satisfy her needs, but perhaps Hector would put a bit of spice into their alone-time, or was he just another H in a long line of- All right then, who was Hector?”

“You see Lola. I can really spin a yarn, can’t I? You weren’t at all interested in this story when I started to tell it, but after wondering what Helen’s name was – so you could threaten her as well – then you fell for my tail of woe is me, just like the other times!”

-just then, there was a knock on the front door!

“Now who might that be?” asked Lola, who wondered where Armand had gotten to, but he usually didn’t knock before entering, did he?”

A young, rather attractive woman stood outside, adjusting her lipstick in her pocket mirror. When the door was opened she cried out, “Is it really you? I’ve found you again, at last!”

“Gosh Lola! Look, it’s Helen! Almost as if she’d been reading my mail, and-” with that said, Helen quickly hid any number of discarded envelopes behind her back, before saying,

“So. This is the older woman, you left me for, is it?”

Lola didn’t care for her from the get-go, and she wasn’t exactly endearing herself as time went on! “So tell me, Helen. What led you to -motioning over to the fellow next to her-this bloke over here?”

“So typical of someone like you, not knowing what This bloke’s name is, isn’t it? I really wonder what you end up calling him when he is providing you with Pity Sex, anyway? So deserving, aren’t you?”

Lola’s mouth opened then closed, with her saying, “Well then. Why haven’t you called him by name when you showed up on our doorstep, Ms Homely Homer?”

-shaking her head, then saying, “Now I see how your fellow was such a Babe-Magnet all those years ago! Women just fell at his feet, didn’t they?”

Mr Nameless wanted to invite the Lass in for a cup of tea, or a Cask of Amontillado*, added Lola!, but alas, she had other errands to run in life, and just wanted to admire the man and his memory before she went off to points unknown!

“Say my name again, just for old time’s sake, won’t you?” she asked him, but as he was about to utter Helen’s name, she said, “Say it like the last time we made passionate love, and we promised each other that this day would come again, someday!”

“That is quite enough!” yelled Lola, as she pushed Helen – her last name here – out of the house, and barred the door behind her! “I demand that you march off to the bedroom immediately, and yell out my name, when in the throws of passion, and say it as if you mean it!”

“Gosh Lola. I’ll do as you ask, but won’t you be wondering if I had said your name, the same way that I said Helens? – Which I won’t, of course, but you’ll never know that, will you…..?

*A Cask of Amontillado was a short story by Edgar Allen Poe….

The Story I Never Wrote, Part 2

She was as sultry as the day was long, but after she met her match, it wasn’t long before her sulfur was burned off!

“So, you are writing Part 2, even though Part 1 never really existed, aren’t you?”

She asked him questions that he couldn’t answer, but he kept her asking, until the day that they found the ways and the means to accept the simple fact, that that, there just was an air of mystery between them, or wasn’t it just that last night’s “Bean Surprise” caught both of them off guard!

“I hope for your sake that is is not a Love Story with undertones of their spicy romance gone bad, or was she just his bicarbonate of soda, in the larger scope of things?”

He thought of using the summer looking for what he might have lost in Part 1, but only if he could remember what would really have happened, if it hadn’t been trashed outright, then resurrected, then trashed again?

“Gosh Lola. If this is going to be as convincing as Part 1, then I need you to tell me what might have happened, before we decided to wet the reader’s interest, by tempting them with Part 2!”

She had told him lies before, but not as big as the time when she tempted him with the memory of someone, who she told him never, ever, and ever never, to mention again, other than the dozen or so times before this one, when the memory of his Jet-black hair, in contrast with her blond from a bottle, was something that someone might right about, but only if they had Part 1 in their back pocket, before writing about Part 2, without knowing exactly where this story was going?”

“Wood it have made any difference the very first time, when you asked me about him, asking you to imagine my lying in his swarthy arms, while he told me how many times he was going to make love to me, so I could use it as leverage, when and if we broke up, and I needed to tempt my next lover, who would be you, I suppose, but who wouldn’t be able to accept, what someone, like me, had experienced, a time or two before we had met one another, which led me to tell you not to mention him again, other than the seven or so times, if anyone was counting, that is, you’d done so, including this one!”

And then she mentioned Part 2, which made him say, “You’ve never gone into such detail about you know Mr 8-14 times before, but I guess I had it coming, seeing as how you too, obviously were made for one another, and I can’t imagine, why someone like that would break up with someone like you?”

“And it is written, Whet, and not wet!” she exclaimed as she reread the above words, wondering who had written them?

“Gosh Lola. I get all week in the nees, when you talk about wet as it were a state of mind! Why I remember a time or two, when I was romancing that woman, the one before you, that is, who before you thought I was as insane as the day is long, and in the Alaskan summertime no less, and she wood gladly stand there at the altar and give me away, if I had asked her too that is!”

-whispering to him saying, “You don’t need to say Alaskan, with us being in Alaska, you know?”

That was the mortar and sand combination, that cemented their relationship with one another, almost as if he had red her love letters, figuring it was him that she had written two, but you never no in the grate big crazy world, who is who and why, do you?

“Well, it was you, I had written to, or we’d never have figured out why Part 1 led to Part 2 in the first place, wood we?”

“Gosh Lola. I no that you are the woman who wakes up next to me in the morning, and yells about why we didn’t get it wright again, but weed need to try again and again until we did!”

“Yes, and you are the man, who inspired this quite confusing retailing of something that originally resided in the circular file, but whose mate, who might be me, took it out and said, “I now declare this dental bridge to be open!”

-and they loved happily ever after…..