Wednesday, May 22, 2013


So I’m sleeping.  My new Galaxy S2 was sleeping when I went to bed.  It is now nearly 4AM and I have been awakened for the THIRD time by its beeps and when I power on the message is I’m “roaming” ---

OK.  I have often pondered the existential question “Where do we go when we sleep?” --- now I know.  My phone decides it’s lonely and wants to take a little trip, and just for fun, take me with it.  Who knows where we have ventured this night, and other nights when it is left lonely in another room where it’s bleating goes unnoticed?

Sleep is a fascinating event in all our lives --- well, at least I think it is.  We are here, in bed (or wherever) and our minds are having a heyday with all the junk left over from family, work, unfulfilled days, the music from a commercial (more about that and potatoes later).  Just imagine the uncontrolled synapse activity that frolics in the folds of our brains.  It might be likened to a teenager free from parental control for a weekend. 

“Oh, honey, he’s 17, he’ll be fine alone for a couple of days.  You know how he hates staying with someone like he’s still in elementary school.”  Let the party begin!

Our brains must go into hyper-drive once we leave and go wherever it is “we” go and leave no one in charge.  Just think of the possibilities --- a book read many years ago comes to the surface and becomes one with our left over stuff from the day and a movie is born.  We call them dreams, but I think somewhere in there is a frustrated director, with more actors than he knows what to do with clamoring for a role in the latest production.  No wonder we awaken confused and muddled and in desperate need of coffee to get fully past the remnants of yet another fugue state of the unfinished epic.

But what does my phone do when it goes roaming off and on all night??  Well, at least I can take some control and turn its power off --- that must be something akin to death for it.  Will it be grateful when it once again has power in the morning --- at my whim??  No, it will battle me all day long with random beeps and try to roam when my attention is on actual work.  And, just for fun,  it will find a way to drain the battery dry.

Memory is the culprit.  We have too much to remember and it gets worse with each day as we invent yet another log in to purchase something online, or, god help us, log on using the phone.  Or search for the music that plays during a commercial, because it has been haunting us for days and, we just this second, had a “question” bubble to the surface and must know the answer.

Which brings me to potatoes (I said we’d get there --- what you don’t trust me in my ramblings?)  A commercial for a bank is playing for several months now, with a gal gathering gear for a vacation --- nylons, shoes, a ring --- and next we see she is climbing some enormous pile of rocks in the desert and I swear the gal singing in the background says  “…..savory mashed potatoes” as part of the lyrics.  This had been floating around, along with the melody, in my head for days so, says I, “Why not Google it?”  So I did.  The words are actually “…somebody left the gate open”.  The singer named LP has a strong voice and looks a little like a young Bob Dylan --- in an androgynous fashion.   Because of course we are not satisfied with simple answers and find ourselves going down rabbit trails of information once we are in “I wonder” mode and connected to our laptops.  If you want to know more about her check it out --- there is nearly a cult following about the potatoes miss-heard lyric.  Who knew??

All this pondering still doesn’t tell me where we go when we sleep, or why my phone, which to my knowledge has no thought process to purge at the end of the day, finds a need to go roaming in the middle of the night.  Maybe it picks up on my connection to Dylan and …… well, roams, like a rollin’ stone.

Saturday, August 20, 2011

Yahrzeit ----

This is the official day I remember you.  The candle is alight and somehow comforting. 

When I decided on the name for my blog it was because I am more your daughter the older I get and because all you encouraged me to do (even if I didn’t always follow through) has kept me going through all the trials and tribulations life slings at us.  It's mostly good ...

Today I should have a dirty martini, extra olives; listen to some cool West Coast Jazz, make up an economy run route and pretend you are my navigator --- and for a winning trophy reward myself with an acapella rendition of “Doodily Doo” while driving early Sunday morning to fetch the paper and bagels --- and, of course, laugh hysterically when realizing I’m driving the wrong way on a one-way street so early other cars aren’t even around.

No Formula races this weekend, but Belgian GP is next weekend, then Monza Sept 9-11.  It’s crazy what they’ve done to the cars!  I wouldn’t know what to do with “paddle shifters” on the steering wheel.  My left foot would be beating the hell out of the undercarriage.  Ahhhh , such a purist. Pebble Beach Concourse was last weekend.  Do you see it all where you are?  Is there Formula 1 in heaven?   Just gotta be…..

Too bad I can’t take this little Sunday morning trip in your Porsche ---- however memory being a very powerful thing, perhaps the “faithful daughter” fates will allow a reasonable facsimile in my little red car.

Gentlemen (and women) start your engines!

Sunday, July 31, 2011

My "Elemental" entry here

Clarity of Night blog had a stunning flash fiction contest.  Here is the prompt --

And here is my entry (#38).  Check out the site for some awesome entries.  the contest is now closed, and I congratulate everyone who entered.  As for the Winners and Honorable Mentions -- well done, and well deserved!  Thanks to Jason Evans for sponsoring an amazing adventure and creating a very civilized writing community!  Huzzah!


By Rachel Artstein

Another unthinkable assault enrages her.  Not the visions or explosions in her head as a result of the attack, but the crudeness of the wounding.  She is unsteady, unready for this battle.  Nothing has prepared her for this pain and humiliation.  No one cares.  Bastard!

Staring it down in red-hot fury she dared it to invade yet again - stealing even one more fragile, irreplaceable fragment.  She blindly fumbles her hand towards its all-powerful visage, pleading.  She is met with a shattering blow.  Precious shards scatter across the universe of her mind.  Mine!

Oceans ebb and flow, waves dashing against towering cliffs, calming her as she remembers.  Healing.  Reaching deep into her safe place she wrested from her soul’s depths the memory of how it was when she was whole.  She wrapped herself with that steel will, learned in a white-hot hell, overflowing with grief and despair.  Breathe calm; breathe deep.  War!

Amid screeches of madness, as colors and heat exploding from it intensified, she seized it, grasping it in a burning embrace.  Drinking from it till it was pale and weak and cold, her thirst quenched, she wept.  Engulfing her scattered fragments one by one, growing stronger, until it no longer existed.  Dead!  

Triumph is cool, silent, powerful.  Alive!

Monday, July 25, 2011

Under construction for a bit --- me AND the blog

Have been writing and will post my flash fiction shortly.  (Like maybe tomorrow)  Gonna overhaul my space here now that I have a better handle on how it all fits together.  Check back in a few days...

Oh, the pool is cloudy again and it's too freaking hot to use it.  Like stepping into a hot tub with no bubble jets --- just not too wonderful.   Climate change?? What friggin climate change...oh, THAT climate change...

 Stay cool......