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Holiday Cheer from Aunt Edith by Rick Brown My late Uncle Wes lived with my Aunt Edith for most of his adult life...although I’m sure it seemed like an eternity to him. He worked for the Bethlehem Steel Company in Baltimore for thirty years until he retired. He worked the night shift getting off around 7 a.m. when he would come home for dinner. In the summer when it was warm...and Baltimore can get very, very humid...he would go to a movie matinee in an air conditioned theater and sleep. If you knew my Aunt Edith you would assume what I did...even as a child...and that was that Uncle Wes worked nights and went to matinees to get away from his wife. He never said much. He was a slight, wiry man of few words. And the few words he almost always uttered were, “For Chrissakes Edith! SHUDD UPP!!”
The man was almost incidental by nature. One time...after he retired and he and Aunt Edith moved back to the Cleveland area...my brothers and I were helping him put a refrigerator in a backyard shed because there was no room for it in the trailer they were moving into. After much jostling my brothers and I closed the shed door and thought we were finished. From her perch (as supervisor of course) Aunt Edith looked at the three of us with bewilderment and asked, “Where the HELL is Wes?” And after exchanging confused glances we heard muffled sounds coming from behind the fridge in the shed. “MMMPPPHH!!! Hey!! HHMMPPHHFFF!!!” We quickly opened the shed door, moved aside the refrigerator and liberated Uncle Wes. My brothers and I were all embarrassed and each, in turn, apologized profusely for our insensitive behavior. Aunt Edith broke into the humility with a shriek of, “What the HELL were you doing in there?” Which prompted Uncle Wes to ... once again ... chant his mantra. “For Chrissakes Edith!! SHUDD UPP!!” They were quite the loving couple. Their last name was Crabtree. I am not making this up. Wes soon was diagnosed with lung cancer. Thirty years in the steel mills and 2 packs a day of Chesterfield non-filters caught up with him. The last time I saw him he was lying on the couch in their trailer smoking the aforementioned brand of cigarettes, quite literally coughing his lungs out ... or what was left of them. “I TOLD him to quit those goddamned things years ago. “ Aunt Edith offered for my contemplation. To which Uncle Wes replied sarcastically (yep, you guessed it) “Cough cough ... For Chrissakes HACK! HACK! Edith!!! SHUDD UPPP!!!” These were the final words I heard my uncle ever say and we all joked at the funeral that these very words were more than likely chiseled into his headstone. A few years after Wes passed, my brother and his new wife were having their very first Christmas and invited everyone over...including Aunt Edith. My parents were there along with my siblings and their families. This included my brother Jim’s 9 year old adopted son Matt. Matt the Brat was what my father called him. I thought this surprisingly subtle for my Dad. If I knew where Matt is today...and thank God I do not ... I would have to guess some one killed him or he’s in jail convicted of several murders. I honestly don’t care so long as he’s nowhere near me. So Matt the Brat is playing with one of the toys some one so graciously gave him and he broke it. This kid could break anything he got his hands on. But in a moment of diplomacy my father (affectionately known as Snook) said, “They don’t make anything any good any more!!” To which...in the spirit of the season Aunt Edith quipped, “You’re right Snook!! Everything IS SHIT!!!” Wel l... happy holidays to you too Aunt Edith. Inside my head I distinctly heard a voice from my past reply, “For Chrissakes Edith!! SHUDD UPPP!” You know...there are lots of reasons to go through life believing that “everything is shit.” There are days when it certainly seems true to me. I have my days when Sartre’s “Hell is other people” could easily be the thought of the day. But...unlike Aunt Edith...I don’t want to spend a big chunk of my life living alone in a trailer. And when I think of this particular Christmas it strikes me how most of them blur into each other...with the exception of a few. And this is one of them I distinctly remember. As much as family...and sometimes even friends ... can annoy a person ... especially at this time of year ... I have come to realize that even some one like Aunt Edith helped make me who I have become. I mean that in a positive way. Imagine ... Aunt Edith’s negativity was so over the top it MADE me consider the positive. I have no idea how she became so bitter. My father did shortly before he died also. Yet they both, particularly Snook, had a positive influence. They were there. Unlike today when some people are not. This holiday season...regardless of which one you celebrate...take the time to savor those around you...even if they drive you nuts. They may not...for whatever reason...be there next year. And in some strange way, which will surprise you, their absence will make you miss them. I guarantee it. (a possible exception to this uplifting message might be Matt the Brat) And you might consider that next year YOU might not be here. So I suppose my holiday message may seem bittersweet to most...but that’s how I see it. And if anyone feels the need to take issue with my views then I encourage you to speak up LOUDLY...’cause I’ve got one thing and one thing only to say to you. FOR CHRISSAKES!!!! SHUDD UPPP!!! Editor’s note: Aunt Edith died a few years ago. She was 90 years old. Her neighbor called my Uncle Bruce and told him she had passed out in her trailer. He went and got her up…asked if she was alright and she said she was. He suggested she go to the hospital to make sure everything was okay. She told him to go to hell and get out of her house. He did just that…returning an hour later and she was gone. Sad…surely. But she lived her last day the way she lived every previous one. And despite her surliness I will miss my Aunt Edith this Christmas. And I will remember the one long ago when she informed us “Everything is shit!” Rest in peace Aunt Edith. I can picture Jesus turning to her and proclaiming, “Truly, truly I say unto you…For Wes’s sake Edith…SHUDD UPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” University
Bans Best Bites Okay, it’s not a real university but a store that sells “University of Siesta Key” paraphernalia. Shelves are brimming with t-shirts, sweatshirts, baby clothes. Fraternity paddles emblazoned with the school logo hang from the wall. (Does one get “pretend paddled” at a fake university?) And my Siesta Key buddy Russ thought it would be a good place to sell my book, Naked Sunfish – Best Bites. So he stopped in one day and chatted the book up with someone working the register. The two agreed that Russ would leave a copy of the book, the proprietor could take a look at it at her leisure and get back to him about either selling it or not. That
was last spring.
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Holiday
Hoopla Scrooge
 Lost
in the Cityby Morris Jackson
Untitled  Red & Green by Amy McCrory
The Alternative Project {Comix}
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Body
Language
Shadowbox Live Worly Building The Brewery District Columbus, Ohio by Rick Brown Age When I look in the mirror When I peek in a glass Youth, they say, First time a tooth Age is wasted The Sarasota Blues Festival Ed Smith Stadium Sarasota, Florida November 5, 2011 by Rick Brown Through
its 21 year history the Sarasota Blues Festival has showcased
some of the genre’s heavyweights. Buddy Guy, Gregg Allman,
Son Seals, The Radiators and Booker T. & the MGs have all
graced the Sarasota stage. Not so this year.
Still, I donned my black Savoy Brown t shirt (which spurred a couple reminiscing conversations with guys later) and headed out hopefully with my wife Yvonne for a night of the blues. We got there well into the show, around 6 p.m. The first thing we noticed was that the concert was not in Ed Smith Stadium but in an adjacent grassy lot used for baseball parking. Okay, I can live with that for a few hours, And as minor a disappointment this might seem, I could not bring myself to buy an official t-shirt or sweatshirt. For reasons unknown to me, every article of official clothing had a cute little tugboat on the front. What’s up with THAT? Since we had no folding chairs (we had assumed we’d sit in the stadium seats) we did plunk down 25 bucks for a blanket the size of a doggie bed, which I managed to spill an entire glass of red wine onto later in the evening. Shaun Murphy was already onstage belting out some nice tunes. The woman has a strong, beautiful voice reminiscent of Jimmy Cliff. But is the Beatles’ “Yesterday” a blues number? Ms. Murphy at her best might be categorized as gospel, and that’s wonderful. So I pinned my hopes for a blues set on the next act. 2011 Grammy Nominee Ryan Shaw took the stage and delivered a powerful … uh …soul set. He tore up Otis Redding’s “Try a Little Tenderness” but that really was as close to the blues as he came. Mr. Shaw’s set dragged at times, and if I had a dollar for every time he said “Here’s a song from the new release” it would have easily covered the cost of my wine stained doggie blanket. Right before headliners Los Lobos were to take the stage on come the mercury vapor lights around the lot. The eerie light coupled with the beer trucks' raging generator did nothing for the lack of ambiance. And to add insult to injury the crowd had to be tormented for a few minutes by a DJ from one of those corporate QFM stations. I kid you not … the guy’s name was Mason Dixon and his thanking everyone for coming out in “these dire economic times” was certainly thinly veiled coded political comment. He insisted that LAS Lobos would be out shortly. And Los Lobos did finally take the stage. They were good … fabulous and even a little bluesy at time. Unfortunately despite their best efforts, even Los Lobos could not make this a “blues” festival. To their credit however, organizers did succeed in giving this reviewer a big, big case of the blues. Big enough to require a tugboat to haul my mood away. The
Non Fiction Theater of the Truly Mundane
proudly presents: … olley … ide by Rick Brown Scene: An inside view of one of those pseudo trolleys on a bus chassis. The driver faces the back of the stage. Immediately to his left is an elderly woman tour guide with blue hair holding a microphone … chord dangling precariously… facing the riders. Several passengers are sitting in seats, including Rick, his wife Yvonne, brother Don and sister in law Sheila. Behind them, closest to the audience in the back of the trolley is a middle-aged woman who is the assistant tour guide. Elderly
tour guide – To your … ite. Oo will soon … ee
…Ole … tangy …artments. Curtain Cast:
Hmmm's by Rick Brown Hmmm # 32 If God truly
existed Hmmm # 33 I love Hmmm # 34 Asshole:
It is Hmmm # 36 No one
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