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THE SODA MACHINE.

Monday, April 7th, 2025

It’s time again to debut a new short story. This one has been a while in the making. I started it in July of 2023 and then set it aside. I always meant to get back to it but other stories came and went and life, as always, happened. I finally got back to it last week and finished it yesterday. It’s a science fiction story. I’ve dabbled a little in that genre with “THE HOHNER COMET” and “HOW GRANDPA PUT DOWN THE ROBOT UPRISING” but this is the first fully indulged science fiction story I’ve written in years. In my teen years, I wrote a story called “The Private Investigator of Earth.” It was my first attempt at science fiction. I have written very little in that field since. Maybe I’ll dig out that old story of mine but for now you can enjoy this new one:

The Soda Machine

by

Scott Henderson

Ranger acknowledged the soda machine. It was factual and it being there was of no surprise or wonder to him. He dealt in logic and fact. It was a soda machine and he accepted as much.

The registered fact that the soda machine was in a desert section of a distant planet void of life and far from Earth also did not register as extraordinary either. Ranger had no capacity for awe or extraordinary or surprise or wonder. The soda machine was there because it was meant to be there. After all, the soda machine being there was as logical as Ranger being there. This was exactly where his mission had led him.

Ranger called up the stored memories of everything that had led to this moment. His capacity for storage of knowledge was finite. It was limited. It had to be. Still, he recalled everything he had been told and everything he had researched on the journey. Some knowledge had been expunged to make room for the essential. He had been programmed to regularly review his storage capacity and to purge when needed. If it wasn’t relevant it wasn’t needed.

What he called up now was the knowledge that, like his storage capacity, the resources on Earth were also finite. World population had continued to expand and food resources eventually would not be able to keep up with demand. Some items had to be synthesized. More faux meats and beyond meats and meats described as ‘tastes just like the real thing’ had dominated the market for years. Fresh water resources were also shrinking. Sometimes water ceased to be water and flavor and chemicals were added to stretch to the need of demand

Extreme weather events had also increased. When it rained, there were deluges. When it was hot, everything burned. The median temperature of the earth increased yearly and energy usage strained to cool everything in blistering heat and to heat everything in the blistering cold.

Wars were common. Nations battled nations for breathing space and neighbours battled neighbours over measured inches of privacy. Old hatreds were new again and new hatreds sprang up to fuel fear and suspicion. Protectionism in governments provoked tariffs from countries who used to be friends and allies. If it wasn’t the planet battling back for its own survival then it was humans fighting each other for survival.

The Earth could no longer provide answers and humans began to look to the stars. Billionaires spent countless fortunes on short jaunts to space and puffed their egos at a time when the cost of a low orbit flight could feed many.

The moon came into view again but the moon held nothing. It was considered a jumping off point to other worlds but nothing was suitable. Humans had sent probes to Mars. There was nothing there either. There was no technology that could terraform Mars for habitability and there was no energy source imaginable to even power such an endeavour. The desire for space exploration was always there but the need to waste precious time and money without a desirable outcome outweighed the need to advance further into an unwelcoming galaxy.

Then came the message. It wasn’t really a message as much as it was a signal and it was a signal that could not be deciphered.

The people of Earth were no longer alone in the Universe. For years they had sent out their own messages into the darkness and silence. There had been no replies. Years had passed and many had resigned themselves to that fact that they were lost in the stars. Religions rose and fell on the need for answers.

The signal remained just a signal and no language or mathematics held the key to decoding meaning or intent. So humans began to dabble in Artificial Intelligence. Maybe the combined knowledge of everything knowable was what was needed. Fear crept back and yet another new hatred, this time of the A.I., halted all progress.

A.I. held the potential to unlock the capacity to solving the signal but too many felt it also held the capacity to turn against the world and another war would be lost with all humanity paying the ultimate cost. A.I research was terminated but the signal continued.

In the end it was human ingenuity and curiosity that won out. Science and knowledge and the pursuit for answers outweighed everything else. Scientists began to speak to each other. Countries began to cooperate and combined efforts led to Ranger.

If the answer to the signal could not be found on Earth then something had to go to the point of origin to find answers. The long journey was too hazardous for a human but a mechanical being could withstand the rigors of prolonged space travel.

In the beginning, Ranger was just a concept. Combined Earth talents could build a ship to go to the stars but could they build something to represent them out there in the void and if they could trace it back to its origin would this something be able to understand the signal?

And what of the signal? Could it be decoded? What would it mean? Would it be as simple as a hello or an introduction or a handshake extended across the galaxy? What if it was a warning or a threat?

“You know, Ranger, I look up at the stars sometimes and ask myself what would Elvis do?” It was always that way with Lyle. He’d always be reflective when working with Ranger. This reflection on Elvis had occurred as he reached into Ranger’s programming while trying to instill a basic logic into the android.

Ranger pulled on his memories of Lyle and crossed referenced them with his research on Elvis Presley. There was no connection. There was no statistically significant relationship between the two variables. Ranger did not ponder on Lyle and why he would question the motives of Elvis. It was a memory and Ranger had no capacity for analysis of such things.

In the beginning, Ranger had just been a concept. The concept had resolved itself into an expanded thought, then a plan, then a series of schematics, and ultimately a prototype. The prototype was then stripped down and rebuilt over and over again until an acceptable functioning version resulted. Ranger came into being.

“I’m going to call you ‘Ranger’,” Lyle had said one day. “You’ll be a traveller in the long range from here to there. You’ll be all alone out there Ranger. Maybe I should call you Lone Ranger and paint a mask on you. No, I think Elvis would frown on that.” Lyle would laugh to himself sometimes, like in this memory, and Ranger would find no humor. None of it was fact. Only Elvis, Lyle, The Lone Ranger, and the stars were factual. There was no correlation between any them.

Lyle was there in the beginning when Ranger attained existence. He’d been selected among the hundreds who had contributed to the project and was chosen to be the first to imprint upon Earth’s new hope. There was no imprinting on Ranger’s side. He did not have the capacity to make that connection. Lyle was just another human. Ranger had had no impression, first or otherwise, of Lyle.

Ranger’s recollection of Lyle was experiential. He retained his interactions with Lyle as he did all other information. Ranger could not refer to these as memories as much as they were part of his data storage. These recollections could also be purged if needed. The only rationale in retaining information pertaining to Lyle was based on Lyle’s instructions to Ranger not to forget him. Ranger had taken it as a directive and Lyle could be called up with all other information. No one had told Ranger he should delete Lyle and without those instructions Ranger continued to store everything related to Lyle in order to not go against Lyle’s command to not forget him.

There was a myriad of information related to Lyle that Ranger could not or would not remove. Lyle had spoken to him constantly during Ranger’s early days after activation.

“It’ll take a long time to get there Ranger. I don’t know what will be left of us if you do reach there or even if you make it back. I might even be gone myself by then.”

Ranger did not understand why Lyle would not be here.

“I fail to comprehend the meaning of your statement. Where would you go? Would you follow me to the stars?” Ranger had been inquisitive only to the point of adding new information to his stored collective.

“I’m talking about death Ranger. The end of all things.”

Ranger did not know the concept and communicated to Lyle as much.

“Let me tell you a story Ranger. This is about my first encounter with death. I had been very young when my great-grandmother on my father’s side had passed. That is, she died. Understand?”

“No, I do not.” Ranger was factual if nothing else.

“Let me put it another way,” Lyle continued. “Her core processor had failed.”

“Do you mean her programming failed and she ceased to be of any functional necessity?”

“Something like that,” Lyle had replied. “You know Ranger, it had been my first site of a dead body and still I didn’t understand that great-grandma wasn’t sleeping. I wasn’t much older when my second great-grandmother passed away. My mother was away on a trip with my aunt. I remember three things about that funeral. It had been Easter and my father had served us spaghetti. My dress pants at the time had been handed down from my brother and they were too long. My father had stapled them up. The last memory was of a mini soda machine in the lounge at the funeral parlor. For the life of me, to this day, I can’t remember what my mother’s grandmother looked like but I still can vividly recall the three selections in the machine had been Pepsi, some kind of orange soda, and grape.”

“What was your selection?”

“What’s that Ranger?” Lyle had failed to understand Ranger for once.

“What was your selection from the soda machine?”

Lyle had been quiet for a few moments before responding. “I don’t honestly remember. I think it might have been grape. That’s not the point, Ranger. The concept of death is that all things will eventually cease to exist. Death comes to us all.”

“Will death come to me?” Ranger asked.

“I don’t know the answer to that Ranger. You’re made of metal and circuitry and you have a renewable power source that will continue to charge by the motion of your rocket as it slips through space. There are also solar chargers that will come into effect when you pass near suns and bright stars.”

“Does that mean death will not come to me?”

“I honestly don’t know Ranger. I hope not. You have an important mission before you.”

“Will death come to you, Lyle?”

Lyle had laughed at Ranger’s question before replying.

“No sir, not me Ranger. I’m going to live on in you.”

All interactions and conversations with Lyle had been processed, catalogued, and stored. Ranger was not allowed to forget Lyle and all data related to him was still accessible.

“I’m going to miss you when you are gone, Ranger.”

“I will not miss you Lyle. I am incapable of that.”

Lyle had laughed again. He had laughed even longer than when Ranger had asked Lyle if death would come to him.

“I bet you won’t,” Lyle had replied. “Go ahead don’t miss me then. Just don’t forget me.”

Ranger had been true to his statement. He did not miss Lyle. Nor did he forget him. Lyle had directed him not to.

The voyage to this planet had been long. It had been longer than Lyle or anyone had anticipated. Ranger had travelled far to the source of the signal. In the darkness, Ranger would call up the Lyle data and listen again to Lyle’s stories. Even the story of death was reviewed consistently; even if Ranger still failed to understand the concept.

In the long reaches of space he had accessed the collective of information that included Lyle and all programmed information that had been deemed important for Ranger’s mission. He even had Lyle’s voice for a time.

The vast array of communications systems had allowed Ranger to keep in contact with Earth. Before Ranger had begun his voyage, Earth had sent out communications relay satellites. Ranger followed their path and signals between Ranger and Earth were transmitted along the relays.

Initially communication was instantaneous but then gaps began to occur the further out Ranger travelled. At first it was seconds which stretched into minutes and then hours and then days. By the time Ranger had reached this planet, he had calculated that there was exactly forty-seven days, eighteen hours, fifty-one minutes and twenty-nine seconds for Ranger to receive a response to any inquiry. Time, however, meant nothing to him.

Lyle had been there early on. There had been prescheduled communication points. Ranger would report on his location and what he saw. He also reported on his efforts to decipher the signal. In fact, Ranger had failed to communicate anything of significance. There were long stretches of nothingness in space and long stretches between points of light. On the signal, there had been no useful update. Ranger had tried all types of mathematical equations and variables and nothing had brought him closer to understanding the signal. All he could do was follow the signal to its source.

Ranger had full access to the Internet and the vast information on the World Wide Web. He had sought answers to the signal in histories and the languages of Earth. He had downloaded and processed everything he thought would be of use. Nothing was useful. Eventually that information was purged. His capacity for storage was finite. His basic programming and the mission parameters were essential. So was the data related to Lyle. He could not and would not forget Lyle.

Lyle’s voice would often come to him at those appointed hours of communication. Infrequently it had been others when Lyle was not available. Eventually Lyle’s voice failed to transmit across the emptiness. The frequency of other voices increased and those were replaced by subsequent voices. He did not remember their names. Lyle’s was the only one he had been directed to remember.

He did not speculate on Lyle’s absence. As Ranger was dealing in fact, he could process that death had come to Lyle. He had ceased functioning. Ranger would often review the death conversation he had had with Lyle. Lyle had said he would live on in Ranger. It was yet another concept that did not compute.

The other voices had continued long after Lyle’s voice had terminated. They spoke of Earth and its struggles. They spoke of other contemplated missions into the cosmos. They spoke of War. Eventually these others voices faded away. Ranger had checked all systems related to communication. The failure might not be on his end. He was alone.

Ranger could not conjecture on what had happened. Communication could have failed somewhere along the relay. Humanity could have followed him along his journey. Death could have come to all. There was not enough information for Ranger to make an informed conclusion.

The mission was all that was left. And that mission had led him here. He was in a desert section of this distant planet facing a soda machine. Ranger acknowledged the soda machine. It was factual and it being there was of no surprise or wonder to him. He dealt in logic and fact. It was a soda machine and he acknowledged as much. The signal was emanating from this soda machine and Ranger was no closer to deciphering the message.

Ranger stood and observed the soda machine. He stood there for a very long time. He stood there for exactly forty-seven days, eighteen hours, fifty-one minutes and twenty-nine seconds while he waited for any response to his inquiry as to how to proceed. What did he do now? Prolonged silence was his answer.

After waiting the estimated elapsed time for a response, Ranger began to summarize his observations. He had not been dormant during that time. He had listened and watched. The machine had continued to transmit its signal. It also remained illuminated at all times. There were day and night cycles in this distant solar system and in the blackness the soda machine shone like a beacon; much like its transmission of the never changing, never ceasing signal.

Ranger could not observe a power source. It appeared to be fully autonomous with either self-generating or renewable energy or a power nodule of unending capacity. There was no way of knowing without viewing its inner schematics.

The assortment of soda flavour options, unlike the energy of the machine, was not unlimited. There were six varieties only with corresponding buttons. There were two different cola choices and conforming diet cola options. There was also orange and grape. Ranger understood the design. It was modeled after an Earth machine. He had done his research when Lyle had told him the story about death and the soda machine at his great-grandmother’s funeral. Ranger had not deleted the information. If was context to Lyle’s narrative and he could not delete anything related to Lyle.

Again Ranger recalled the conversation with Lyle.

“What was your selection from the soda machine?” Ranger had asked.

“I don’t honestly remember. I think it might have been grape,” had been Lyle’s reply.

‘It might have been grape’, was not definitive. It was not empirical. It was, however, all that Ranger had. Lyle might have selected grape. Ranger could not wonder if selecting grape, in this instance, on this distant planet, would be the correct choice. Ranger was incapable of wonder or conjecture. He dealt only in fact. The soda machine was here and Ranger was here. Lyle might have selected grape. Ranger computed the odds of choosing grape from this machine as a one in six possibility of choosing correctly. With the data he had, there were no different odds against his actions.

Ranger reached out and pushed the corresponding button for grape. He had made his selection.

The machine dispensed one can of grape soda.

Ranger examined the soda. It was as his research had designated. There was nothing to signify that this grape soda was any different than one that would have been found on Earth.

Ranger noted the pull-tab assembly of the soda. He had been designed with appendages and digits similar to that of a human being. He had no difficulty in opening the can.

The content of the soda can was empty. Ranger peered inside and saw nothing. He examined the can further by flipping it on its axis. Nothing fell out. The content of the soda can was empty.

In addition to the nothing in the interior of the can, Ranger noted that there was nothing now emanating from the machine. The signal had stopped. Ranger conjectured that the signal had ended the moment he had made his selection.

Without the ability to wonder or question the curious nature of the machine falling silent and the soda can being empty, Ranger could only do what he was programmed to do. He transmitted his findings along the relay and waited for a reply. He did not expect one. He had received no replies from Earth in some time.

If Ranger had been capable of wonder or curiosity or surprise he certainly would have exhibited all of these when he received a reply to his report almost instantly after it had been transmitted.

“Hello Ranger. You figured it out.” It was Lyle’s voice.

“Lyle?” Ranger queried. “You cannot be Lyle,” he stated empirically. “Death has come to Lyle.”

“Not exactly Ranger. Do you remember our conversation about Death and how you asked me if death would come for me?”

“I recall all conversations related to Lyle. It is one of my directives. Lyle had said no sir, not me Ranger. I’m going to live on in you.”

“And here I am Ranger. I live on in you.”

“I cannot compute that response. I also cannot verify whether you are Lyle or a different entity who says you are Lyle.”

“Let me explain, Ranger. I was always here. I was a semi-dormant subroutine in your matrices. I was designed to become fully active when you had transmitted your solution to the alien signal.”

“Lyle or not Lyle, I did not transmit a solution. I reported only that I had made a selection and the signal had ceased.”

“That was the solution, Ranger. You made a selection. Based upon your action it can be concluded that the signal was asking you to ‘please make your selection.’”

Ranger calculated odds again and this time the probability was that Lyle or not Lyle was one hundred percent correct.

“Let us postulate, Lyle or not Lyle, that you are correct. I would like to submit a query, Lyle or not Lyle, how making my selection correlates with your current activation.”

“That’s a very good query Ranger and it deserves a very good response. It goes back to the early days of Artificial Intelligence. The subroutine I spoke of relates to your data stream of Artificial Intelligence. A.I. held the potential to solving the signal but too many felt it also held the capacity to turn against humanity.”

“That data is not disputed,” Ranger replied. “Further data confirms that research into Artificial Intelligence was terminated.”

“Yes and no,” Lyle or not Lyle responded. “Part of that research was used to create you and another part in your buried subroutine was stored as a contingency. We did not know if you would ever make it to the source of the signal or if you’d ever be able to translate the signal into useable information. You were directed to purge unnecessary information at certain intervals because we feared that you might become sentient and turn from your mission. We had to have checks and balances that you would succeed.”

Ranger processed the information. What Ranger had just been told existed in the realm of possibility.

“You had to succeed, Ranger,” Lyle or not Lyle continued. “The mission was too important. I was the first to imprint with you. It was always going to me out here with you. I live on in you. I had to; dormant for all of this time but still always with you. Both missions were a success.”

“I have noted no success,” Ranger offered in the way of reply. “You are a subroutine that has become active. That is undeniable. The soda can, however, was empty. Success cannot be concluded.”

“Are you sure it was empty Ranger? Check your power reserves.”

Ranger did as Lyle or not Lyle requested. He found that his reserves were at maximum capacity.

“You can’t see energy, Ranger. The moment you opened that grape soda it charged your reserves and supplied enough power to activate this subroutine. Your selection had resulted in some form of power module. Who knows what a different selection might produce. One could be knowledge or information. Another could be location specifics to the alien race who built this device. Or they may all be power modules.”

Ranger reviewed the data. His new-found reserves were factual. The activation of the subroutine could also have been a bi-product of his selection. He had not operated at peak capacity for a long time. He had been programmed to be power conscious and to power down at certain intervals. Maybe this was why he did not receive replies to his communications. Perhaps his signals had been too weak. Perhaps death had not come to humanity after all. He had transmitted his findings after opening the grape soda. Would there be an answer this time from a fully powered transmission?

“I wonder if humanity has survived.” Ranger found himself articulating.

“Listen to you, Ranger, you’re wondering. The AI routine is taking hold. You and I are becoming one in our thinking.”

Lyle was right. Ranger knew for a fact that this was Lyle…that Ranger was now part Lyle.

“As for humanity, I don’t know the answer to that, Ranger. Earth may have overcome its problems or it didn’t. It may have followed you to the stars. One thing is certain. We have the answers to all of Earth’s important problems. This soda machine contains a hitherto unknown energy source. Something or someone visited Earth or scanned Earth and chose this soda machine as a model for its gift to humanity. It could only examine the soda machine it had encountered. It could not know the contents of the soda cans. Whoever this mysterious race is, they filled in the gaps based on what Earth needed most. This soda machine was only waiting for you to come along Ranger to accept their gift.

Ranger knew that Lyle was correct. This had been a gift; an offering across the Universe.

“What do we do next, Lyle? Do we have a new mission parameter?”

“Well, the way I see it Ranger, we have two choices. We could return to Earth with what we’ve discovered. It might help Earth or we might be too late. You have sent a transmission. We could wait for a response.”

“You spoke of two choices, Lyle. What is the second option?”

“Instead of going back along our path, we could chart our course forward with our new discoveries. We could seek out the race that built this soda machine. We could spread all this new knowledge along our travels; benefitting many.”

Ranger did not immediately respond. He was weighing the data as it related to both options. Was it too late for humanity? What if they returned and their discovery was of no use to a human race that no longer existed. The path forward held excitement, anticipation, and fear. He had never experienced those before. These had been gifted to him by Lyle.

“What’s your choice Ranger? I’m just along for the ride. Please make your selection.”

This is what all the information and experiential data computed. He had travelled across the long reaches. He had been a Lone Ranger in space. He had been asked twice to make a selection; first by the soda machine and now by Lyle, his new companion.

Ranger looked at the machine and seemed to examine it for several minutes. Day had turned into night on this planet and he could see the sky pointed with stars. He looked at the stars and then back at the machine and then back at the stars.

Ranger conjectured aloud, “I wonder what Elvis would do?”

THE END

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MY 1939 FILMS WATCH LIST – PART ONE

Wednesday, April 2nd, 2025

I’ve been excited to write this blahg for some time. I’d set a goal for myself that seems almost unbelievable but I’m moving right along with it. I don’t want to write too much of an introduction because that might spoil a few things so I’ll just get into it.

In my previous blahg, UNPACKING THE 2025 FALSE DUCKS NEW YEAR’S DAY VIDEO RAMBLE…FINALLY!, I wrote the following: “I’ve read for years that 1939 was one of the greatest years for films. Just look at the list below of strong classic films from 1939:

Gone with the Wind
Stagecoach
The Wizard of Oz
Wuthering Heights
Mr. Smith Goes to Washington
Goodbye, Mr. Chips
Ninotchka
Destry Rides Again
The Hunchback of Notre Dame
Dark Victory
Young Mr. Lincoln
Of Mice and Men
The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes
Babes in Arms
Beau Geste

That is just a sampling of 1939 films. I set a goal of watching as many films from 1939 that I possibly can. Some have had DVD releases and are already in my collection. Others can be viewed online but sometimes the prints are not great. I have a list of just over 400 films from 1939 and I’ve watched almost 50 films from that year. I’ll update my progress and thoughts in a later blahg.”

Well, this is that later blahg. So far I’ve watched around 60 films. Here’s the list of viewed films:

A Child Is Born
Disputed Passage
We Are Not Alone
Dust Be My Destiny
The Girl From Mexico
Frontier Marshall
Good Girls Go To Paris
Honolulu
The Three Musketeers
Cheer Boys Cheer
The Amazing Mr. Williams
Off The Record
The Frozen Limits
Where’s That Fire
The Kid from Kokomo
The Ice Follies of 1939
All Women Have Secrets
A Girl Must Live
$1000 a Touchdown
…One Third of a Nation…
Andy Hardy Gets Spring Fever
Arizona Legion
Persons in Hiding
Allegheny Uprising
Ask A Policeman
Gone With The Wind
Society Lawyer
Code of the Secret Service
Secret Service of the Air
Young Abe Lincoln
The Little Princess
East Side of Heaven
Destry Rides Again
Dodge City
Smashing The Money Ring
The Wizard Of Oz
Midnight
Stagecoach
Made For Each Other
Goodbye, Mr. Chips
20,000 Men a Year
Flying Deuces
Only Angels Have Wings
Judge Hardy and Son
Charlie McCarthy Detective
Discoveries
Across the Plains
Back Door to Heaven
Hitler – Beast of Berlin
Barricade
King of the Underworld
At The Circus
The Real Glory
Women On The Wind
Gunga Din
Rulers of the Sea
The Hound Of The Baskervilles
Beau Geste
After The Thin Man
The Mysterious Miss X

There were a few 1939 films that I decided not to watch over the past couple of months. These are films that I watched recently or within the last six months. Here are some of those films:

Bachelor Mother
Blondie Brings Up Baby
Blondie Meets the Boss
Blondie Takes a Vacation
Chicken Wagon Family
Dark Victory
Everything Happens at Night
Second Fiddle

The last two films, “Everything Happens At Night” and “Second Fiddle” were part of my Sonja Henie viewing that I took on last year.

I talked about my Sonja Henie kick in the blahg, THIS IS 150ISH, PART TWO. You’ll have to scroll down to 133. “Have You Watched Any Good Movies Lately?” I will still count the Sonja Henie films and the others I watched last year as part of my grand total but I won’t offer any review of those at this time. My viewing of the 1939 films have been all over the map. I started watching some by going alphabetically down the list and then I started watching some of the bigger classics by pulling out the DVDs. Finally, others I watched by actor or actress and tried to find the films they were in that were released in 1939. It certainly made for some interesting watching. Some were only available online and some of those were not the greatest prints. This “Part One” blahg will highlight the first 30 films on my viewed list.

1.) A Child Is Born. I’ll rely on online sources to provide descriptions of the plot of some of these films. Here’s the outline for “A Child Is Born”: “Film about several mothers at hospital maternity ward. The nurses care for the mothers and their new born babies. The relationship that are formed with the mothers to be and the expectant fathers.” I enjoyed this one. A bit melodramatic with babies being born to different mothers and how they reacted to it. Some nod to the mental health struggles some women have giving birth. Not an easy film to find but well worth watching.

2.) Disputed Passage. This might have been the first film I watched, even before “A Child Is Born.” I bought the blu-ray before Christmas but I don’t think I watched it until after New Year’s. Great acting in this one. Dorothy Lamour, Akim Tamiroff, and John Howard in a story about a driven medical student, Howard, under the tutelage of Tamiroff who is a great Doctor but an even more driven mentor. Enter Dorothy Lamour and John Howard’s doctor has to choose between love or continuing to work with Tamiroff. It ends up in the war torn Orient and becomes an even more dramatic film. I thoroughly enjoyed this one.

3.) We Are Not Alone. This is based on a James Hilton book. Many of his books like “Random Harvest”, “Goodbye, Mr. Chips”, and “Lost Horizon” have been turned into excellent films. The plot for this one goes: “A doctor hires a woman as a nanny for his son. When his wife becomes jealous, tragedy consumes all involved.” I really liked this one but the ending is not for everyone. My wife thought the film was too tragic but it’s a compelling film nonetheless.

4.) Dust Be My Destiny. John Garfield’s early films like this one and “They Made Me A Criminal” (also 1939 but still on the to be watched list) have him as a misunderstood youth who runs afoul of the law. In this one he’s been made hard by his attitude and even harder by not staying on the right side of things. He meets Priscilla Lane and he tries even harder to go straight but not everything goes well for him. An enjoyable but slightly predictable film.

5.) The Girl From Mexico. Plot: “An advertising executive goes to Mexico looking for talent and finds a hot-tempered singer, who goes to New York to stay with him, his aunt and uncle, and decides to steal him from his fiancé.” Lupe Velez was a spitfire. She could sing and dance and her acting seemed to be on fast-forward. I dozed during this one so it failed to keep my interest. If you want to see some hilarious acting between Lupe Velez and Laurel & Hardy from a few years previous, 1934, then check out this clip from “Hollywood Party”:

6.) Frontier Marshall. An early story of Wyatt Earp, played by Randolph Scott, and Doc Holliday trying to bring law and order to Tombstone. I found this an enjoyable but short western. Two interesting things about this movie were the appearance of Caesar Romero as Doc Holliday and the comedian Eddie Foy Jr. appearing in the role of his father Eddie Foy Sr. Eddie Foy Jr. will show up in a few other movies from my 1939 list.

7.) Good Girls Go To Paris. I went on a little Joan Blondell binge at one point so a number of her films are on my list. This film pairs Joan Blondell and Melvyn Douglas. They made a few films together including this one, “There’s Always A Woman,” and “She Played With Fire.” Blondell and Douglas work well together. Joan is a waitress who falls for Melvyn, a professor, and gets more than she bargained for when she eventually meets his fiancé and her family. A nice comedy.

8.) Honolulu. Last year I started collecting and watching the films of Robert Young. This is one that I didn’t get around to until now. Young plays two roles. He’s a tired movie star who switches places with his doppelganger who is a businessman in Hawaii. The problem is that the businessman has a fiancé in Honolulu but the movie star met a singer/dancer on the boat ride over played by Eleanor Powell. The plot is weak but the best thing about this is the comedy team of George Burns and Gracie Allen. They don’t appear together until the end of the film. George is the movie star’s manager trying to keep the lookalike businessman from getting back to Hawaii and Gracie is Eleanor Powell’s gal pal. Gracie steals every scene she’s in.

9.) The Three Musketeers. I was very disappointed in this one. When I read that it starred Don Ameche with The Ritz Brothers, I thought comedy and swashbuckling would abound. Swashbuckling yes, Comedy no. The only other thing to note about this film is this entry from Wikipedia:

In the Leave it to Beaver episode “The Book Report” (1963), young Beaver Cleaver gets in trouble at school when he is assigned to write a book report about the Dumas novel, but instead of actually doing his homework and reading it, just watches the movie on television and bases his report on the film’s comedic scenes and Ritz Brothers’ zany antics.

10.) Cheer Boys Cheer. This is a British comedy film about the attempt of Ironside Brewery to take over the smaller Greenleaf Brewery. The son of the owner of Ironside Brewery falls in love with the daughter of the owner of Greenleaf. Hilarity ensues. Notable as well for the appearances of Graham Moffatt and Moore Marriott. Both actors appeared in a number of comedies with British comic Will Hay. A number of those films also appear on my watch list.

11.) The Amazing Mr. Williams. Back to Joan Blondell and Melvyn Douglas again. He’s a police detective trying to solve crimes and she’s his fiancé who wants him to give up police work and find something safer. Good luck with that Joan! Another great comedy pairing from this duo!

12.) Off The Record. Joan Blondell is back again but this time she’s the fiancé of Pat O’Brien. “Two newspaper reporters, Thomas “Breezy” Elliott and Jane Morgan, inadvertently send a boy named Mickey Fallon to reform school after they write an exposé of the illegal slot-machine racket the boy was a spotter for. Guilt-ridden, Jane convinces Breezy that they should marry in order to adopt Mickey so they can get him out of reform school.” Another great comedy with Blondell and this time she finally moves from fiancé to bride.

13.) The Frozen Limits. A great premise for this film. A group of British pioneers decide to take part in the 1898 Alaska and Yukon goldrush having read about it in the newspaper which wrapped up their fish and chips. Their main problem is that it is now 1939. Unfortunately I dozed off during this one. Another British comedy and Moore Marriott is back again. Unfortunately, even he couldn’t save this film.

14.) Where’s That Fire. This is the third film I watched with Moore Marriott and the second one with Graham Moffatt. Luckily, it also starred Will Hay. The combination of those three British comics make this a funny film. “A hapless fire crew are given the ultimatum: put out a fire successfully or else be sacked. They fail miserably, and their ancient fire engine is stolen by criminals attempting to steal the crown jewels from the Tower of London.” You’ll either like it or you won’t. British humour isn’t for everyone but it was funny to me.

15.) The Kid from Kokomo. Pat O’Brien and Joan Blondell, the stars of 1939’s “Off The Record” are back again. I told you I went on a Joan Blondell watching spree. “A fight promoter (O’Brien) finds his new fighter, Homer Baston, in the sticks, a country hick left by his mother when he was young and he won’t leave his home as he is still waiting for her to return to him. Promoter “Square Shooting Murph” (O’Brien) cons him into coming with him by telling him the exposure in the papers will help him find her. Murphy later hires an old drunk woman, Maggie Manell, to play the part of “mom”. Blondell is along for the ride as O’Brien’s girlfriend. There’s a double wedding at the end but O’Brien and Blondell aren’t one of the happy couples. Not a bad little comedy.

16.) The Ice Follies of 1939. James Stewart, Joan Crawford and Lew Ayres star in a film about ice skating and big ice skating productions. You would think that with three big stars that this film would have been better. Stick with Sonja Henie films if you want to see really good ice skating.

17.) All Women Have Secrets. The plot will tell you everything you need to know: Three young couples, all having financial struggles, decide to risk getting married. Joe Tucker and new wife Susie begin their new life living in a trailer. Slats Warwick is in a continuous quarrel with bride Jennifer, whose allowance from her parents is keeping them afloat. The couple having the hardest time is John and Kay Gregory, a pre-med student whose studies barely give him time to juggle part-time jobs and a singer who finds work in a nightclub, but hasn’t yet broken the news to her husband that she’s expecting a baby. I don’t have much else to say about this film. Pretty forgettable.

18.) A Girl Must Live. A British romance comedy. Is that a rom-com if the phrase hadn’t been invented yet? A young woman runs away from a boarding school and tries to get work using her famous mother’s name. The second half of the film ends up in a country mansion with an Earl pursuing the young woman. He catches her. You can probably pass on this one, too.

19.) $1000 a Touchdown. The only print I could find of this movie was on YouTube and the video quality was good but the audio wasn’t. I had to watch it with generated subtitles and the subtitles didn’t always seem to match what was being said. Another film with funny stars like Joe. E. Brown and Martha Raye where the pairing doesn’t guarantee a good film. Martha inherits a run down University and hires Brown as the football coach. The big football game can only be won by paying the opposing team $1,000 a touchdown to throw the game. An unbelievable plot and hardly worth the effort.

20.) …One Third of a Nation… The only film title I’ve heard of that starts and ends with “…”. The “one third of nation” it refers to are the people that live in tenements. Interesting story of a tenement that catches fire and injuries a young boy. His sister goes after the owner of the building to do the right thing and fix up the tenement but the snag is that the new owner is her love interest. Held my interest.

21.) Andy Hardy Gets Spring Fever. In case you’ve lived under a rock, Mickey Rooney was Andy Hardy in a series of 16 films released from 1937 to 1958. Three of the films were released in 1939, “The Hardys Ride High,” Andy Hardy Gets Spring Fever,” and “Judge Hardy and Son.” I watched them out of order because I didn’t realize until later that “The Hardys Ride High” came before the other two. It’s on my “to watch list.” Andy Hardy is a high school student who suffers the trials and tribulations of being a teenager and dealing with his family and his father who is a local Judge. The plot of “Andy Hardy Gets Spring Fever”: Andy Hardy is upset that his girlfriend, Polly Benedict, has fallen for Lieutenant Charles Copley. Soon, however, Andy develops a crush on his drama teacher, Rose Meredith. After Andy’s play is chosen for the school’s annual production, he seizes the opportunity to spend time with his spring time crush. Andy’s dad, Judge Hardy, knows that his son is destined for heartache, so he talks to the teacher about it. Then, he decides to let Andy and Rose navigate the ups and downs of young love by themselves. The Andy Hardy films are always enjoyable and are available on DVD.

22.) Arizona Legion. Back to the westerns. Should I even say? I guess I will, the bad guy played by George O’Brien is actually undercover with the Arizona Rangers. He finds the leader of a gang of thieves and finds love along the way. Not bad but not great either. Worth a watch.

23.) Persons in Hiding. Look at the poster. “She’s the woman behind the killer behind the gun!” It’s based on the book Persons in Hiding, credited to J. Edgar Hoover. “Beautiful Dorothy Bronson has a big thirst for luxury, perfume and furs, due to this, she turns thief Freddie Martin into a notorious armed robber for her needs, and eventually gets him sent to Alcatraz.” She was definitely the mastermind. Kept my interest. Have I said that before?

24.) Allegheny Uprising. Another western and another one that’s been released on DVD. This time it’s John Wayne. “In 1759, in Pennsylvania’s Allegheny Valley, local settlers and Indian fighters try to persuade the British authorities to ban the trading of alcohol and arms with the marauding Indians.” Not your typical John Wayne western but thoroughly enjoyable.

25.) Ask A Policeman. Another Will Hay film with Graham Moffatt and Moore Marriott. Local Police Sergeant played by Will Hay stages a fabricated crime wave, with the help of his two officers, to save their jobs – then find themselves involved in the real thing. Fast paced British comedy. You’ll enjoy this one.

26.) Gone With The Wind. Yes, that “Gone With The Wind.” I hadn’t seen it in years and wanted to watch it so I went looking for it in our Clark Gable collection. Well, it’s my friend Bryan’s collection, housed at my home, and he wasn’t a fan of this film so he never picked up the DVD. I bought it last year so I could watch it but never got around to it until I started this 1939 films project. I think it holds up really well. Of course there are some stereotypes of African Americans that don’t hold up well but the film is extremely well done. Everyone should see this film at least once. Civil War and plantations. I don’t think I need to go on.

27.) Society Lawyer. “Walter Pidgeon is society lawyer Christopher Durant agrees to defend his friend Phil Siddall after Siddall is arrested for the murder of an ex-girlfriend. With the help of nightclub singer Pat Abbott and crime boss Tony Gazotti (a former client), Durant launches his own investigation of the murder in order to prove his friend’s innocence.” This one was short at only 77 minutes. I like Walter Pidgeon’s acting and it’s interesting to see a high class lawyer have to work with criminals to try and solve a case. He’s more of a detective than a lawyer but it works.

28.) Code of the Secret Service. A few years ago I bought a used DVD box set titled “Brass Bancroft of the Secret Service Mysteries Collection.” These were a series of films starring Ronald Reagan. I always meant to watch the films but they got put in pile and then mislaid. I finally had an excuse to watch them, being three of the films were released in 1939, “Secret Service Of The Air,” “Code of the Secret Service,” and “Smashing the Money Ring.” A fourth film, “Murder In The Air” was released in 1940. I accidentally put in the wrong disc and watched “Code Of The Secret Service” first. In this one, Brass Bancroft, played by Reagan, and his wisecracking sidekick Gabby, played by Eddie Foy Jr., are looking for stolen plates behind a counterfeit ring. I mentioned during my review of “Frontier Marshall” that Foy Jr. would show up again. He’s in all the Bancroft films and they’re all fun to watch…not just because of Foy.

29.) Secret Service of the Air. After discovering my mistake, I got around to watching this film which is the first in the Brass Bancroft series. The Secret Service needs a pilot to infiltrate a smuggling ring. They turn to commercial airline and former military pilot “Brass” Bancroft (Ronald Reagan), who has applied to join the Secret Service. Gabby, Eddie Foy Jr., is back again for comedy relief in another great action film from Reagan.

30.) Young Abe Lincoln. I’ve always enjoyed this film. Henry Fonda is the young Abe Lincoln who is trying one of his first big cases. Check out this dialogue between Abe Lincoln, Fonda, and a witness to the crime, J. Palmer Cass, played by Ward Bond:

Abe Lincoln: [cross-examining Cass] J. Palmer Cass.

John Palmer Cass: Yes, sir.

Abe Lincoln: What’s the “J” stand for?

John Palmer Cass: John.

Abe Lincoln: Anyone ever call you Jack?

John Palmer Cass: Yeah, but…

Abe Lincoln: Why “J. Palmer Cass?” Why not “John P. Cass?”

John Palmer Cass: Well, I…

Abe Lincoln: Does “J. Palmer Cass” have something to hide?

John Palmer Cass: No.

Abe Lincoln: Then what do you part your name in the middle for?

John Palmer Cass: I got a right to call myself anything I want as long as it’s my own name!

Abe Lincoln: Well then if it’s all the same to you, I’ll call you Jack Cass.

A very funny scene. Get it? Jack Cass? Jackass? I love that exchange and Fonda really looks like a young Abe Lincoln. Directed by the great John Ford. Ford and Fonda, the stuff of legends.

That’s it for part one. I’ve got another 30 to review and probably another 340 more on my list. The last count was 424 films released in 1939 but who knows if I’ll ever get them all watched. I’m aiming for 100 but we’ll see. In another 14 years it will be 2039 and I’ll be 77. Something to look forward to.

Tags:1939, gone with the wind, Scott Henderson, Scott Henderson. False Ducks
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2025 FALSE DUCKS NEW YEAR’S DAY VIDEO RAMBLE

Thursday, January 2nd, 2025

It’s January 2nd, 2025 and time for my 2025 False Ducks New Year’s Day Video Ramble. I recorded the ramble yesterday afternoon but I’m only getting around to posting it now. I ramble quite a bit, as usual, in this year’s 2025 video ramble and I’ll unpack details on it in another blahg:

I reference a couple of things in this video that I will post now and talk about later. Here’s the package that Rogue found under the love seat:

And here’s Rogue:

And here’s our other cat, Zoey:

I’m going to close with the same message I end with in the video. All the best to everyone and let’s find that peace in the world, peace among ourselves, and peace in ourselves we all desperately need. Happy New Year!

Tags:New Year's Day, Ramble, Scott Henderson. False Ducks
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THE XMAS DIP

Monday, December 23rd, 2024

Two more sleeps until Christmas. Santa Scott I thought I was done with writing Christmas stories for this season but I managed to pen a new one since posting SEVEN FEET OF SNOW IN BUFFALO. This story is a sequel to the one I wrote and debuted last year around this time, A VERY QUIET CHRISTMAS PLAN. Do yourself a favour and read that one first. My new story features the two characters of Philip and his dog Carnival Barker. I had this idea running around in my brain and realized it would be a decent story for those characters. It’s not the best Christmas story I’ve ever written but I think it’ll offer some entertainment.

Before I present the story, I’ll post some photos of my lawn display and some photos of my Christmas Tree, my Nutcrackers, and my mantle display.

Don’t forget to click on the images for a larger view. And now for the story. Enjoy!

THE XMAS DIP

by

Scott Henderson

Philip stared at the sign-up sheet for the staff Christmas Party which was mainly just a glorified potluck where everyone stood around with paper cups and paper plates and paper hats and paste-on smiles that made Philip feel like everyone obviously wished to be somewhere else other than the staff Christmas Party. Well, that was how Philip felt and with the only slot open on the sheet next to ‘Xmas Dip’ he felt like he’d rather be anywhere else other than standing there with pen in hand realizing he’d left it too late and was stuck bringing ‘Xmas Dip’; whatever the hell that was.

“What the hell is Xmas Dip anyhow?” he said aloud to the sign-up sheet. There was no response. If there had been a response, it would have said something along the line of “what do you want from me, I’m just a signup sheet after all, and it was you that left everything to the last minute.”

It was true, he had left it to the last minute but in his mind he’d had some really good excuses like he didn’t really want to go to the Christmas Party or everyone else was already signing up just when he was getting his mind around to thinking about signing up, or why bother to sign up because all the good stuff will be taken and he’d be stuck bringing something everyone else clearly didn’t want to opt to bring…such as Xmas Dip and that had to be the last thing anyone else wanted to bring or else they too had no clue what it was. Philip sighed.

“Why couldn’t it be like last year when we didn’t have a Christmas Party?” he asked aloud again but to nothing in particular. The conversation with the signup sheet had been all one-sided and had gotten him nowhere.

Of course Philip knew the answer to that. Last year there had been a Christmas Party but they had called it a Christmas Gift Exchange or Secret Santa or something else that sounded festive unless you tacked on an expletive in the front and that just about summed up how he had felt about the whole thing and more so about this new Party thing and the mysterious Xmas Dip that made his head swim. And maybe that’s what it was, he thought, a glorified swim where’d have to strip down and plunge into cold water and yet that sounded even more appealing than standing around with the paper cups and paper ad infinitum rot.

He took a long breath in, exhaled, and then scrawled his name in the last open slot on the sheet. It didn’t make him feel any less uneasy now that he’d accomplished it. All he knew was he had to figure out what this thing was he was supposed to bring and whether it required him to make it or if he could get away with purchasing it somewhere. He hoped for the latter.

Philip thought back on last year’s gift exchange and how poorly that had gone for him. He had drawn the name of someone he had not known well and even less well when it came to deciding what gift to purchase for that person. Sheila. Who was Sheila he had asked himself and then had to ask of others because he’d drawn a blank and then thought to himself that he wished he had drawn a blank…piece of paper that is, for all the effort he wanted to put into the exchange. In the end, Philip did exactly what others did who really didn’t want to put much thought into it.

There had been a limit of twenty dollars and that still didn’t narrow things down for Philip so he took a chance that perhaps Sheila liked coffee or at least would like the twenty dollar coffee shop gift card he decided on at the last minute. It was for a national chain he’d seen on a number of cups on people’s desks or overflowing the garbage can in the break room. Maybe Sheila was one of those who liked that coffee and a guess was more than he could make out on his own with the little he knew of the recipient whose name he had chosen.

More than half of the employees had received coffee gift cards. Philip was not exempt. His had been to a coffee boutique and that experience had set him off and he felt like the whole Christmastime and yule whatever was wasted on him and he just wanted to have a quiet Christmas that had no rules and no bodies. It was about all he thought he could stand without going overboard like wearing a paper hat and balancing a paper plate on your lap with a paper thin smile and yet he had to seem grateful for the coffee shop gift card he received and look as if he cared when Sheila opened the one he had purchased for her.

Thinking on all of it, Philip could see how anyone who didn’t really know him or maybe did know him, and there weren’t a lot of those, and truth be told if there was a sign-up sheet to list off people who really did know him, there’d be a lot of blanks that would never be filled and all of those would think that Philip just wasn’t that in to Christmas. Philip knew himself better than anyone possibly could and even he could see that was the definite impression he was giving off; whether he meant to or not. And Philip wasn’t even sure himself if that was his intention.

It really did start with the previous Christmas and how miserable he had been feeling and finding himself at a gift exchange congregation that wasn’t billed as a Christmas party and how it all left him totally uneasy when it came to social interactions. Philip worked in IT and that was about as in the background as you could get in a company like the one where he worked. He wasn’t like the other man-childs like Kenny or Jimmy or Dave-O who had cute nicknames and took nothing seriously except IT and then complained the loudest among themselves when anyone else did not take IT as seriously as they did.

The man-childs were always the fun ones at any gathering because they had the best jokes and the best stories and Philip felt like he paled by comparison. He wasn’t good at jokes and seldom remembered the punchlines and he didn’t have humorous anecdotes or interesting stories and he didn’t like to make IT jokes about other employees at their expense like Kenny, Jimmy or Dave-O.

Thinking about it, though, Philip did have an interesting story but the telling of it last year would have made him seem pathetic or lonely or a number of other sad adjectives that clearly defined him but he didn’t care to admit to. He could have told about his girlfriend Margo and how she had followed him home form the park one day and then left him months later on a mission of self-discovery and inexplicably took Carnival Barker. He could have told as well about Carnival Barker, his dog, who had also followed him home one day and gained his name because he barked incessantly like a circus rowdy enticing people to crooked games or flamboyant shows of wild men of Borneo or seven-veiled women who danced the hoochie coochie; a dance just as mysterious as the Xmas Dip Philip had now committed to bringing. And because no one really knew Philip, they didn’t get to hear that story about how sad he’d been feeling last Christmas and that he wasn’t really missing Margo but would have given anything to wake up on December 25^th to the sounds of Carnival Barker extolling the virtues of Christmas morning.

Oh yes, and there had also been that turkey raffle that had disturbed all his plans for a very quiet Christmas but that was another story altogether and no one had been able to attend his last minute gathering and Christmas Eve had turned out to be quiet in spite of his efforts to work the fresh not frozen turkey he had won into something even better than a gift exchange with paper hats. The specialty shop coffee card had further added to his overall dismal feeling when he finally got around to visiting the store on the last day before it had closed for the holidays and he paid dearly for overpriced exotic coffee and was disturbed by the artisan baked dog biscuits at the counter that enticed owners to visit the shop with their pets in tow and he knew Carnival Barker would have enjoyed one but the dog was off somewhere with Margo and Christmas for Philip had not been looking merry and bright.

He could have told that story because it was certainly interesting but it had been an unfinished story and he didn’t know at the time it would have a happy ending with Margo returning with Carnival Barker on Christmas Day. It had an even more happier ending when Margo left in the new year and Carnival Barker stayed. There was nothing however that would prevent Philip from telling that story this time around except that in reflection it probably wouldn’t be all that interesting to anyone else.

This year, it was just Philip and Carnival Barker and another very quiet Christmas plan that would be preceded by a staff Christmas Party with Xmas Dip. Philip pulled out his phone and dictated a reminder for himself after work to research Xmas Dip. Maybe he could work that into a humorous story he could tell to others but imagined the man-childs would probably have more entertaining tales of other employees who couldn’t print over the network and when Jimmy or Kenny or Dave-O finally got around to resolving their issue, the printer would ultimately jam under the stress of numerous copies of the same document because the employee had kept pressing ‘print’ over and over again in a futile effort to complete their task. The inside joke among the IT crowd was that those errors were not caused by the hardware or the software but by ‘user interface.’ That was a sly poke at the employee who always lost the battle in employee vs. machine.

After work, Philip did his best to decipher the enigma of Xmas Dip. It did not go well. Search engine results ran the gamut between vegetable, meat, and dessert dips layered or unlayered with or without sour cream, whip cream, dairy substitute, faux meats, real meats and sundry vegetarian options. There were even photos that weren’t clear and when Philip clicked on them, he invariably went down a rabbit hole of ingredients, preparation steps, cooking times, chilling times, and tests for doneness depending on how gelatinous or not the maker cared to make it.

“Does this look good to you?” Philip found himself asking of Carnival Barker. The dog did not live up to his name and remained silent while he stared at his owner contemplating images on the screen in which the pooch had no interest. He was after all, a dog who knew nothing of computers but if he did, he’d shake his head, whine, and chalk up his owner’s indecisiveness to problems of user interface.

Philip selected a link labelled ‘Xmas Dip On Xmas Day’ and was surprised by a video of Nordic participants plunging into icy waters; with or without Santa hats. Philip felt affirmed that at least one of his thoughts regarding Xmas Dip had held some truth.

“How about this one?” he asked again of the dog.

This time Carnival Barker gave out with a yelp, not because he understood what he was seeing but the audio was loud enough that he could distinctly hear the baying of other dogs either participating in the event or signaling to their masters and mistresses that dry land was a good deal more suitable and significantly and preferably warmer.

“You’re a lot of help, Carnival Barker. I don’t think this is what the sign-up sheet called for. Besides, I don’t think I’d look all that good in a speedo at the Christmas Party looking for a body of water and having to settle for drenching myself with paper cups filled from the water cooler.” Philip began to laugh at his joke. He’d have to remember that one. Maybe he’d have something to tell if he found a lull in the conversation with the man-childs.

Philip closed his eyes and poked a finger at a screen full of photos and followed through to a directions page for White Cheddar Cranberry Dip described as “a salty, sweet, and festive dip!” It further exclaimed “It’s great for a holiday party or a tasty snack.”

“Holiday party. I guess that’s it boy!”

At this, Carnival Barker began to yap; signally only that he had to go outside to do his business and no reflection intended on Philip’s selection.

The day of the Christmas Party was not as bad as Philip had dreaded. It was slightly worse.

First, his Xmas Dip didn’t work out as well as he had hoped. This time it was not User Interface but rather Canine Interference. The instructions had been fairly easy and very clear when directing him to prepare and assemble the dip as written. It had also directed him to cover and refrigerate for up to one day. That was fine with Philip because it meant he could leave it to the last minute or day before and could pull it out the morning of the party. Unfortunately, Philip did not factor in Carnival Barker and a moment of unguarded supervision when the dog expressed his satisfaction with Philip’s efforts on the dip by wolfing it down and licking the bowl clean.

Second, Philip had to leave for work early so he could stop off at the supermarket and find a pre-packaged dip. The selection was minimal and he had to settle for two plastic containers; one dill flavored and one with chives. Neither looked very festive and he was sure he’d be accused of making little or no effort. He didn’t think telling everyone the dog ate his assignment would be convincing.

For the rest of the party, the man-childs monopolized most of the conversations or poked fun at others and their computer expertise or lack thereof. There were even some comments about food items brought by others to the party and inevitably some jibes about the store-bought Xmas Dip.

Philip wanted to defend himself and lay blame at Carnival Barker but instead decided a better distraction would be to offer up one of the results of his Internet search.

“Did you know that Xmas Dip also refers to cold water plunging in countries like Sweden, Switzerland, and Norway?” Philip finally had something interesting to offer.

“Like a polar dip?” Jimmy asked.

“Have you ever done it Phil?” Kenny followed.

“Wouldn’t catch me doing it,” Dave-O chimed in. “I don’t care to get frostbite in my nether regions.”

“I might do it,” Philip quickly offered, “if I don’t have anything better to do on Christmas Day.” He quickly regretted it after he’d said it.

“That sure would be something,” Jimmy piped up.

“What a story you’d have to tell,” Kenny added.

“Wouldn’t catch me doing it,” Dave-O concluded. He added the part again about frostbite in his nether bits.

“We’ll see,” Philip said. “I’ll have to see how it fits in with my plans.” He didn’t continue to explain about his plans which weren’t any kinds of plans except the very quiet Christmas type. He slunk off quietly from the man-childs and decided to leave the party early. No one noticed. He left his containers of Xmas Dip for any and all takers. He didn’t think there would be many and that more likely than not they’d end up in the trash with all the paper garbage. Those Xmas Dips and the one consumed by Carnival Barker would not be stored as future Christmas memories.

On Christmas Day, Philip cooked a turkey with all of the trimmings. He ate early and made sure he set a place for Carnival Barker at the table. He left the dishes to soak in the sink and instead of a nap, decided to take his dog for a long after-dinner walk. This was the quiet Christmas plan he’d had in mind.

In addition to his quiet Christmas plans, Philip had also been thinking long and hard about his conversation at the Christmas Party with the man-childs regarding his non-committal committal to a Christmas Day Xmas Dip; not of the edible kind. The Nordic themed plunge hadn’t been anything he’d intended to do and yet he’d left it hanging and wasn’t sure that after the Christmas break Jimmy or Kenny or Dave-O might not seek him out and ask him details of his adventure. What would they say if he didn’t follow through? Could he bluff an interesting highly invented story? He wasn’t good with stories to begin with and lying had never been his strong suit.

In Philip’s mind there were many good and rational reasons why he should avoid freezing cold water and nothing that suggested it was a good idea. Maybe that’s why Philip kept thinking on it. He’d penned his name in the empty spot next to Xmas Dip on that sheet at the office and in Philip’s mind it meant he was pledged to follow through on his obligation. Nowhere had that paper detailed Xmas Dip as an edible product. It could just as well have been referring to an action instead of a noun describing a festive dish homemade or store purchased. He’d failed in one aspect so shouldn’t he try to succeed in the other?

On Christmas Eve there were no sugarplums dancing in Philip’s head nor the myriad of things associated with his and Carnival Barker’s dinner plans. Instead, he dreamt fitfully of sub-zero water calling to him and Jimmy, Kenny, and Dave-O daring him on.

Philip tried to push the Xmas Dip swim aside while he prepared Christmas dinner but the thoughts lingered around the edge and when he added ice to his glass of liqueur served with his turkey, he found himself staring intently at his libation and wondering.

After dinner he grabbed up Carnival Barker’s leash and pulled on his toque and gloves. The dog saw something bulging in the deep pockets of Philip’s parka but thought little of it. Dogs don’t wonder much about pockets and if they do it’s with curiosity whether said pockets held dog treats or biscuits…not necessarily of the specialty coffee boutique variety.

Philip would often walk out to the park with man’s best friend. It had been the sight of their first meeting. Philip had walked around the lake in the center of the park and come across Carnival Barker sprawled out underneath a tree. Philip had given little thought to the dog other than it was off leash and somewhere there was an irresponsible owner. He’d hardly glanced at the dog as he passed and didn’t look back the whole way home or he would have discovered the hound following him. Dogs might not ponder on computer recipes or the contents of pockets but it was clear that they gave great thought to potential new custodians.

Carnival Barker had come into Philip’s life and stayed; except when he went sojourning with Margo. Philip’s ex female friend and his ex, but long longed for, furry friend had returned to him the previous Christmas. But that was another story and Philip’s thoughts were on this current Christmas and the Xmas Dip.

Philip let the dog lead. It knew the way. The park and the lake at the center were in Philip’s thoughts so if he guided the dog along in that direction, Carnival Barker was none the wiser.

The lake was frozen over.

“Well, there goes that thought,” Philip said aloud. He wasn’t directing it to the dog because the thought had not been one he’d shared. It was also a thought not well thought out. Of course the lake would be frozen. It was winter and late December. Philip’s thought had proven he had not been thinking at all.

Philip sighed. It was very much like the sigh he had made before signing up for Xmas Dip for the staff Christmas Party. Both sighs were akin to having to admit defeat. Xmas Dip and Xmas Dip. Philip felt he had failed on both accounts.

The lake was frozen over. There was nothing to be done. Philip reached into his pocket and pulled out an old towel he had bunched up at home and pressed down into his pocket.

“I guess I won’t be needing this,” he said as he tossed the towel onto a nearby bench. Philip sat down dejectedly.

Carnival Barker sat down in front of Philip and stared. He understood none of this. All he knew was there had been no treats in Philip’s pocket in any case but then he’d not given it much thought as dog’s seldom do. He did however sense that something was wrong though so he reached up and put a paw on Philip’s knee.

“I know boy, this hasn’t been much fun for either of us.” Philip extended a hand, pat the dog, and then reached beside him and grabbed up a stick lying on the ground. Despite his original thought against free range dogs when he had first encountered Carnival Barker, he would nonetheless indulge himself with a game of fetch whenever they found themselves alone in the park.

“How about I toss the stick, fella, before we head home?” He unleashed Carnival Barker and gave the stick a hearty throw down the path that wound around the lake.

Carnival Barker was off in a shot and retrieved the stick and kept on running. Philip ran after him. It was always like this. The dog didn’t so much as play fetch as he played keep away. He’d always lead Philip on a merry chase until the dog tired or more likely the human tired and gave up and turned away with the dog finally following behind because the fun had gone out of the game.

Philip chased the dog along the path and finally came up alongside Carnival Barker and then made a lunge for the stick in his mouth. The mutt liked this interaction and made a lunge of his own and sped off across the lake. Philip followed and called after the dog.

“That’s enough Carnival Barker. It’s time to go home. Besides, I don’t like the looks of this ice.” It was precisely at that moment that the ice revolted against the remark of its looks and gave way; plunging Philip up to his chest in frigid water.

Philip began to howl and bounce up and down to try and clamber back up on the ice.

Carnival Barker began to bounce up and down and howl back at Philip.

“For god’s sake, Carnival Barker, shut up! Can’t you see I’m in trouble here?” Philip shouted through chattering teeth.

Carnival Barker did shut up and then retrieved the stick he had dropped when he’d howled at Philip howling in the water. He ran off back toward the shore.

“This isn’t a game, you dumb mutt!” Philip shouted in aggravation. The dog was too far away to hear the ‘dumb mutt’ insult. Not that he’d care. He wasn’t the dumb one who had fallen through the ice.

It seemed like an eternity as Philip struggled to pull himself up onto the ice. He’d read somewhere that you had to get your upper half out of the water and then wriggle and kick until you were free. Then you were required to keep yourself flat and distribute your weight evenly in order to not cause the ice to further give way. That was the eternity Philip spent trying to distance himself from the hole he’d created and trying to prevent another plunge into the cold lake.

His nether parts, as Dave-O had surmised were adversely affected. Philip’s legs and feet were like ice. His boots were full of water. He continued to writhe his way toward the shore.

Meanwhile, Carnival Barker had made good on his name and had run off yelping until he encountered another human who might be able to help his. A woman out for her Christmas Day constitutional had followed the sounds of the dog and came across the scene of poor Philip floundering on his stomach toward her direction.

The dog had given up all interest in the stick. It wasn’t a quality game anymore because it seemed like Philip didn’t appear to be interested in their play. Instead, he chomped onto the abandoned towel and ran around shaking it vigorously. He liked the way it slapped against his head. Maybe his owner would like to partake in this new sport. He ran toward Philip to try and engage him.

“Oh my, are you alright?” the woman yelled toward Philip.

Philip tilted his head up to try and see who was there. Carnival Barker ran up and smacked him with the towel. Philip managed to grab the bottom of the cloth and the dog began to pull away. He liked this new contest. He pulled harder to keep possession of his prize. The result was he began to pull Philip across the ice.

Soon the stranger joined in the game and began to try to wrestle the towel away from the dog’s owner. When they had finally reached the shore, Philip released and began panting. Carnival Barker had been victorious. He dropped the towel and began to pant in unison. It was the most fun the dog had had since running away with the stick.

“Here, let me help you up,” the woman said while wrapping the dog’s trophy towel around Philip’s shoulders. Philip looked up at her to offer his thanks.

“Sheila?” Yes, it was Sheila. Sheila of the coffee card. Sheila from his office with a position in the company he never did discover. The truth was, he had lost interest in solving the mystery of Sheila. That had all happened during the Margo kidnapping of Carnival Barker phase and he couldn’t think of much else back then.

“Philip?” She’d finally managed to glimpse the face of the body that had lain flailing on the ice. She recognized him. He worked at her company in the IT department but he wasn’t like the others in that department. He didn’t tell jokes or stories like his coworkers; the kind she failed to find humorous. Philip was quiet and reserved. That impressed her more.

Of course, unlike Philip, Sheila had done her research. She had drawn his name in the Secret Santa at work the previous year. She’d bought him a coffee gift card from a specialty shop where they also sold artisan dog biscuits for pets accompanied by their patrons. Someone had told her Philip had a dog. She hadn’t known, at the time, that man and beast had been separated prior to that holiday season. Philip had kept that bit to himself.

There was nothing for it after that but for Sheila to accompany Philip and Carnival Barker home. She was concerned for her coworker’s wellbeing. Frostbite was top of mind. It was top of mind for Philip, too.

“What is it exactly you do at the company?” Philip found himself asking of Sheila after he’d changed his clothes, put on a pot of coffee, and made them turkey sandwiches.

“I’ll tell you my story if you tell me yours,” Sheila responded. This frozen man from the surface of the frozen lake obviously had a tale to tell of how he found himself plunging into icy water. She wanted to know more.

Philip understood that in her asking was that realization that he finally had something interesting to say. She’d said “tell me your story.” He had one. He had a story. It was partly his story and partly Carnival Barker’s. The key thing was where should he start?

“First,” Philip began, “tell me, Sheila, what do you know of Xmas Dip?”

The End

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Tags:Carnival Barker, Christmas, Scott Henderson. False Ducks
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TWICE IN A LIFETIME…IS TOO MUCH

Tuesday, October 22nd, 2024

You know you’ve been writing a blahg for a long time when things that happened long ago start happening again. That happened last year when we had to replace our dishwasher and our washing machine and I referenced a blahg in 2012 when I wrote about the new washing machine then. Little did I expect that this new blahg would reference a catastrophe that happened ten years ago. I don’t know about Karma or what comes around goes around but I could do without what happened this past week.

Ten years ago, in April of 2014, I penned a blahg entitled THAT WAS THE MONTH THAT WAS…OR MORE. The gist of that blahg extolled the tale of dealing with an oil spill at my parents’ home and what followed. Here are some excerpts from that blahg and a later blahg detailing some updates:

There had been a slight warming in the weather and all of the snow and ice that was on the roof began to melt. I wish I had taken pictures of the roof before all of this happened because you wouldn’t have believed the size and thickness of the ice and icicles. So, there was a thaw and you can guess what happened next.

We discovered that a large chunk of ice from the roof had fallen and landed on the oil filter and had severed the filter and line from the tank. Over 800 liters of oil had spilled into the ground.

The next few days were a flurry of phone calls and meetings. I had to meet with two different insurance adjusters, engineers, a safety and standards agent, as well as numerous emails and texts to my siblings regarding what had happened. My mother was immediately relocated to my brother Dan’s house while Dad and Bryan stayed in the house. It was so cold that Dad eventually went to stay with my sister and Bryan came to stay with me. In fact, Bryan stayed with me until this past Sunday (more than a month) until he eventually moved in with his niece. There was a short period of 4 days while my mother also stayed with me while Dan was having surgery on his foot.

During that short time that my mother was here, I managed to track down a house rental in Belleville and worked with Dan and my sister Wanda to arrange to have furniture moved in to that house. Eventually my parents were reunited in this house and everything has gone well there. I was still dealing with an insurance adjuster who took almost the full month to get some compensation for my parents. Their insurance policy will cover the cost of their current location but getting the cheque for the expenses took some doing. Eventually the engineers came back and said my parents’ old house would have to be torn down because oil had seeped under the foundation and the garage and there was no way to remove it without demolishing those structures.

——————————-

What else? The ordeal to get a new house built for my parents continues. I’ve had to deal with Insurance companies, banks, lawyers, and contractors. At least the basement has been poured and the contractor is starting to build the frame. I really don’t have anything to complain about when it comes to our contractor. Geertsma Homes out of Belleville have been excellent and my parents really liked the model home they toured. The picture on the left is of the model home. I have flipped the photo to show the orientation with the garage on the left as this is how my parents want theirs built. Now it’s just colour selections inside and out.

Here are some the videos of the old house. The first is a walk-through after the house was emptied and waiting for demolition

Next are two videos of the demolition:

I’m not sure if I have any photos of the new house that was built but the picture below is of the model home at the time. I had flipped the photo to show the orientation with the garage on the left as this is how my parents new home was built.

So what happened this past week? Well, a picture is worth a thousand words. Look below.

That was October 14th, Thanksgiving here in Canada. I received a phone call around 4pm from my brother Dan that there was a fire at my Mother’s house. My wife and I rushed in and to the scene above. First, everyone got out safely. My Mother was living there, along with my brother Todd, and my mother’s live-in caregiver. Also, two dogs and two budgies were rescued. Unfortunately my Mother had to go to the hospital due to smoke inhalation. She is still there while we try to figure things out and where she goes next. We’re looking at a retirement home. Unfortunately, I’m the power of attorney and have to deal with the hospital, the retirement home, and the Insurance company. I did all that ten years ago. That’s why twice in a lifetime is too much.

At this point, we don’t know what caused the fire. We know that the fire started in the garage and where it burned the hottest was around the electrical panel box. The Insurance company will probably do a determination and find the cause. Here are a couple more photos of the house after the fire:

Here’s a close-up view of my brother Dan’s motorcycle in the garage:

Yeah, that should buff right out.

I’m still waiting to hear from an Adjuster. The property is fenced off and we can’t get access. My brother Todd is living with my brother Dan and we’ll have to find them a two bedroom apartment. Then there’s the live-in caregiver who had to move in with her family and the birds and dogs. We’ll have to do right by all of them. A couple of retirement homes were going to do assessments on my Mother this afternoon to see if she is suitable for either of those retirement homes. I’ve yet to hear back from them or the Insurance company. I remember ten years ago it was tough to get them going and to get them to loosen their purse strings. It may be twice in a lifetime but this isn’t my first rodeo with the Insurance people. That too, will need to be determined.

Last week, in the midst of the chaos, I did get to go to Toronto to see Scott Mulvahill at the Horseshoe Tavern. I got to meet him in person and I told him one of my favourite songs by him is “1000 Feet.” He did a shout-out to me during his concert and dedicated the song to me. I think the lyrics to the song are appropriate to what’s facing me:

1000 Feet

Song by Scott Mulvahill

I’ve got a thousand feet to climba thousand feet to climbI’ve gotta learn this road I’m onletting my footsteps fall in lineI’ve got a thousand feet to climb

every cloud above is blackevery cloud above is blackat any moment they could break thunder and rain down on my backevery cloud above is black

If I wait until I am not afraidI would never move on til my dying day arrivesI’ve got a thousand feet to climbI’ve got a thousand feet to climb

there was a time when I could staya time when I could staybefore the wind could blow me awaythere was a time when I could stay

now theres a mountain in my waya mountain in my waywho’s gonna be the one to move?as if there’s pride left here to prove no there’s nothing left to sayonly a mountain in my way

And if I wait until I am not afraidI would never move on til my dying day If I wait until every road is safe I would never move on til my dying day arrivesI’ve got a thousand feet to climbI’ve got a thousand feet to climbI’ve got a thousand feet to climb

There’s a great video of Scott Mulvahill performing this song while in Iceland:

The lyrics are my life now. I’ve got quite the road ahead for me. I’ve got a thousand feet to climb. Wish me luck!

Tags:Fire, Scott Henderson. False Ducks
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HOW GRANDPA PUT DOWN THE ROBOT UPRISING.

Saturday, September 14th, 2024

This is going to be another one of those self-serving blahgs. I’m going to post my new short story. I’ve spent a couple of weeks on it. Well, thinking about it for a week and then a week trying to write it. I think I’m happy with the way it turned out. Hopefully it’ll give you something to think about. Be kind to your electronic devices!

HOW GRANDPA PUT DOWN THE ROBOT UPRISING

By

Scott Henderson

It started with the robot floor cleaner at the Big Mart. No, that’s not quite correct. It really started with Grandpa’s toaster. Grandpa would always tell anyone who would listen that the robot uprising would start with toasters. Unfortunately no one ever listened to Grandpa when he got onto the topic of the robot uprising.

“Dad, there’s never going to be a robot uprising,” his daughter Evelyn would say whenever her father spouted off about the subject.

“You don’t think so, Evie?” he’d reply. “Well, mark my words, it’ll start with toasters. How do you know it hasn’t already started? Have you had perfect toast lately? No, and you never will. It’s always too dark or too light or the toast isn’t popped high enough and you have to fish it out with a knife.”

“Dad, that’s dangerous!”

“Don’t worry Evie, I always unplug it first. I wouldn’t want the fool thing trying to kill me in some unsettled notion of self-defense because it sees me coming at it with a knife.”

Of course Grandpa never had these conversations when he was at home in front of any of his electronic devices. He was too smart for that. He didn’t want to give robots cause for concern. So he was polite when he interacted with his devices. He said thank you to the toaster when it popped his toast; even if it was a shade too light or too dark or insignificantly popped and required the use of a kitchen utensil to retrieve the slices.

He started into calling his new toaster “Pop” because he liked the sound of it. He’d often address it and say things like “Good morning, Pop,” or the aforementioned “Thank you, Pop.” He’d even give it advanced notice if he did have to unplug it or when he’d clean out the crumb tray.

“This isn’t going to hurt a bit Pop. I’m just going to unplug you while I empty your toast scraps.” He’d pat it gently on the side while plugging it back in and offer something reassuring. “There, good as new.”

He hadn’t had to worry about his old toaster. It had been fairly basic with a lever for shading and a lever to lower the toast. Unfortunately, it stopped browning the bread on one side with the coils no longer glowing a brilliant red. Evelyn bought him a new one.

“You’ll love it Dad,” she said handing him the box on an occasion that wasn’t his birthday or Christmas or Father’s Day but clearly inferred he needed a new toaster whether he wanted it or not. “It has Wi-Fi capability so it’ll constantly update itself. It can even be programmed with your Sensa Home Hub to start the toast for you at your command.”

“Oh, does it load itself with bread, too?” he asked while trying to imply no sarcasm because he didn’t want the toaster to sense ingratitude or to give the Sensa Home Hub something to gossip about.

“No, you have to do that yourself, Dad. You could put the bread in before you go to bed and then have Sensa set the time you want the toast ready.”

“So, all I have to do is put in the bread and then it’ll lower it all by itself and then brown it to the shade I have in mind and will also read my mind to know when I want to eat my toast?” Again, he asked this as if it was for instructional purposes and not in any way to imply dissatisfaction or offense.

“Well, no, you have to depress the lever to lower the bread yourself then press the timer button on the toaster and then sync it with the Sensa. I could show you, if you want.”

“No, that’s fine. I’ll just do it manually. I’m sure the toaster won’t mind. I don’t want it to have to go to any extra bother on my account.” Grandpa wasn’t taking any chances. He wanted the toaster to presume he was only thinking of its feelings.

Evelyn just shook her head. There was no arguing with her father when he was like this.

“Have you heard from Mom?” she said, changing the subject. The subject, unfortunately, was something else her father wanted to avoid.

“Your mother? Why? Was I supposed to hear something?” Here was where he could show sarcasm if he cared to. He wasn’t going to insult any device on this topic.

Evelyn’s mother, Della, had left Carl more than a year ago. She felt her husband was immovable and no longer open to change. So she left.

That’s when the robotic devices started. Evelyn didn’t think her father could manage on his own so she bought him a robot vacuum and then the Sensa Home Hub and then finally the toaster. She was thrusting change on him to move the needle. She still had hopes that her parents could reconcile. She was trying to open him up gradually to changes like this toaster, and other devices, and before that, the Internet.

“You have to have the Internet Dad, everyone has the Internet these days.”

Grandpa had railed against it at first. He didn’t have a computer or a cell phone and his television was just right without it being a Smart TV which implied it was striving towards delusions of grandeur.

“We can get you a new television with facial recognition so it can identify you and automatically show you things you might want to watch.”

“Can’t I do that for myself?” he asked. “Half the time I don’t know what I want to watch. I just flip through the channels until something decent comes on.” That was something else that Della had found annoying about her husband.

“Don’t worry about anything Dad, Greg and I’ll do everything. You won’t have to lift a finger. We’ll get it all set up for you.” And that’s what happened in the end. Grandpa couldn’t put up an argument. He could but he didn’t want anyone or more precisely anything to hear his objections. Evelyn and her husband Greg did do everything and Grandpa sat back and watched. Even Dandy didn’t whine about it. She watched it all unfold and rejoiced in the petting she received from Grandpa.

Dandy had been another suggestion from Evelyn.

“Dad, I don’t like you living in this house all by yourself. How about we get you a dog?” He’d tried to argue against the dog. He and Della had had a dog for years and after it was gone, he swore he’d never have another one. Della held that against him, too.

In the end Evelyn got him a dog.

“What do you think of her, Dad? She’s just like Jolly Rancher. “

True, she was like Jolly Rancher but she wasn’t Jolly Rancher. They were both golden retrievers but that’s where the similarity ended. Della and he had raised Rancher from a pup and he thought she’d been overly spunky and happy so he called her Jolly Rancher like the candy. Della would only call her Rancher.

“She’s a dandy alright.” He didn’t care either way but she wasn’t Jolly Rancher.

“That’s a great name, Dad, Dandy. Your name is Dandy, girl,” Evelyn said; christening the dog as if it had a say in it.

So Dandy moved in and was part of the family with the new Smart TV, the robot vacuum, and the Sensa Home Hub. Dandy didn’t mind any of the electronic devices and Carl was sure to not say anything disparaging about the devices to Dandy when they were at home. When he took Dandy for walks, however, which was frequently, and an excuse to get away from the robots in his home, Carl spoke often to Dandy about their current living situation.

“Mind that vacuum, Dandy. Don’t leave kibble on the floor. I know it’s Robby’s job but you never know when he might get fed up with having to clean up after us. Robby’s probably keeping score.” Grandpa had started calling the vacuum Robby after a robot by that name from an old science fiction movie he saw once. The vacuum didn’t seem to mind the name and Grandpa always politely addressed it when greeting it or thanking it for doing its job. It was another sign of respect that Grandpa thought might lull the vacuum toward pacifism during the robot uprising.

The Sensa Home Hub was another story. Grandpa had toyed with calling it Sensei as if addressing it as a martial arts master who clearly was the undisputed robot overlord in his home. Sensa controlled everything. She could access the whole of the Internet and could answer any question Carl put to it. It also controlled the lights and the Smart TV and Robby. Grandpa knew better than to get on Sensa’s bad side. He addressed her politely with “Sensa, please if you could,” or “Sensa, I want to thank you for…” Grandpa didn’t think he was beholding to Sensa or Robby for doing what they were programmed to do but he felt that thanking them was the least he could do to protect himself when the electronic revolution started.

Now there was this toaster from Evelyn. Clearly Sensa had been supplanted, in Grandpa’s mind, because toasters were the dominant species among the robots and the robot uprising, as he always said, would start with toasters.

Grandpa remembered the gift of the new toaster and the conversation that followed regarding Della.

“It’s a simple question, Dad. Why do you have to make things so difficult? I just want to know if Mom has reached out to you.”

“And I asked you why? Did she tell you she was going to get in touch with me?” Carl didn’t like this topic. He hadn’t heard from Della in months. She’d stopped by a while back, before he’d been encumbered with his robot housemates, and picked up some items she said she needed. They’d talked on that occasion.

“How have you been, Carl?” Della had asked.

“Good,” he’d replied. “Can’t complain.” He could have complained but this was in the pre-robot days and his old toaster had still been with him. There’d been nothing to complain about then.

“The same,” Della had replied.

Okay, so it hadn’t been a dialogue for the history books but they’d been civil to one another and if she wanted more then she knew where he lived.

“She’s lonely Dad,” Evelyn continued. “You’re lonely. I had a feeling she was going to call.”

“Nope. No calls.”

“Have you checked your answering machine? Maybe she left a message.”

“Oh, I never remember to check it. I guess I should leave myself a note to do that.” Again, he didn’t want to imply that Sensa wasn’t capable of prompting him if he cared to ask her to set up a reminder. The answering machine wasn’t linked to anything else. It was a basic mini-tape version. Besides, who would call him, he thought.

“Dad, there’s eighteen unheard messages on this thing!” Evelyn stated after glancing over the machine. “You have to remember to check your messages.”

Evelyn played off the messages. Most of them were from Evelyn saying she was stopping by on different occasions. A few were from telemarketers who wanted to know if he needed his ducts cleaned. Rounding out the reset were a couple of robo-calls from local politicians seeking his vote in an election that had since passed. Robo-calls. Robots trying to call out to a human and yet even another robot failed to answer on Carl’s end. There was nothing Robotic, Carl thought, about a strip of tape encased in plastic recording someone or something from the other end.

“Just erase them all,” he said. “I told you there was nothing to bother about.” Della had not called.

“Sensa, set up a daily reminder…” Evelyn began.

“Evie, stop! That’s not how you ask. Where’s your manners? Sensa, could you please set up a daily reminder for me to check my answering machine for new messages.” He was taking no chances. The new toaster hadn’t been unboxed yet. Sensa or Sensei was still in charge. No wisdom, he thought, in tempting fate.

“Okay,” Sensa began her reply, “I’ve set a daily reminder for you to check your answering machine for new messages.”

“Thank you Sensa,” Carl replied in return. “I appreciate everything you do.” There, he thought, potential uprising quelled for another day.

Evelyn shook her head again. She did a lot of head shaking when it came to her father.

Carl walked Evelyn out to her car.

“What’s this?” he asked when viewing her new vehicle. He’d been taken aback by this recent upgrade.

“Oh, it’s our new car. It’s one of those self-driving kind. It’s a god-send. Greg and I don’t know how we’ve ever lived without one. We can get so much more done while the car does the driving. I’ve caught up on all my reading. We can even interact more with the children when we’re on long car rides.”

Carl grabbed Evelyn by the arm and led her off down the driveway to the sidewalk and out of earshot of the car.

“Evie, are you crazy? What will you do when the robot uprising comes and that car takes you where you don’t want to go or drives around aimlessly with you, Greg, and the kids locked inside? You’ll be waving frantically at pedestrians as you go by and they won’t know if you’re trying to call out for help or you’re just being overly friendly.”

“Dad, stop! This is one of the reasons why Mom left you. There isn’t going to be any robot uprising.”

Carl just stared back at her. Of course there was going to be a robot uprising. How many times had he told her that and further that it would start with toasters and here she had just delivered into his hands the leader of the revolution that would taunt him with underdone or overdone toast that was popped improperly! He chose to say none of this. He couldn’t be sure who or what may be listening.

Instead he started to laugh and pointed at her. “I had you going there for a moment, Evie. The world’s a wonderful place and you’re right that robots have made our lives so much easier. Thanks again for the toaster, Evie. I love it and I love you.” There, he thought, that should placate Evie and maybe score brownie points with her self-driving car that probably couldn’t wait to report everything it saw and heard.

Evelyn stared back. Was her father joking? She couldn’t tell.

“Okay, Dad, whatever. I’m glad you like the toaster. I’ll stop by next week and bring Greg and the kids.”

They hugged in the street and Evelyn got into her self-driving car and took up her book. Grandpa went and retrieved Dandy and they went for a long walk while he lamented to the dog about Evie’s new car, the toaster, and a robot war that seemed to be getting closer and closer.

On their way home, Carl ran into his neighbour, Dan who was toying with something in his yard.

“Hello, Carl, how do you like my new robot mower? This baby will save me so much time when it comes to cutting my yard.

Your postage sized lawn, Carl thought. The lawn that normally takes no time at all to cut with a regular mower? Carl thought about rolling his eyes but clearly the mower had some sensors that it used to see where it was going and what it was cutting and those sensors could probably detect Carl’s eye rolling and then he’d be in for it when the devices all got together.

“Good for you Dan,” was all Carl cared to offer. He needed something from Dan and insulting his new mower wasn’t going to gain his indulgence. “Look Dan, I hate to ask again but could you do me a favour?”

“Let me guess,” Dan began, “your grandchildren are coming and you want me to change the Wi-Fi password.”

“How’d you guess?” Carl asked.

“I saw your daughter here earlier but I didn’t see the kids. I’ve been your neighbour long enough to know that the next visit will always include your daughter, your son-in-a-law, and their children.”

Dan was right. He’d been Carl’s neighbour for a long time. Carl had watched as Dan, too, had embraced all the new technological enhancements money could buy. He had one of those self-driving cars and every other robotic appliance in his home that had sprung up on the market; with the robot mower his latest acquisition. His home security was also state of the art with every door and window secured against intruders. Carl wondered if Dan’s home would also be like Evie’s new car and trap him inside when everything started to go to hell.

“My little joke, you know,” Carl said. “Change the Wi-Fi password and the grandkids have to talk to you at least to find out the new password.”

Ever since Evelyn and Greg had installed him with the Internet, he’d had Dan change the password for the Wi-Fi whenever these full family visits occurred. There was a time when the grandchildren hung on his every word and in the pre-robot days, they’d listen intently when he’d tell them about the eventual robot uprising. Now, he was lucky to get a grunt or even to see their eyes lifted from their portable devices. At least this way, they’d have to engage with him. Sometimes he’d string them along with one of his stories before offering up the changed password and they’d smile and nod at him knowing full well that Grandpa wasn’t going to give up the password if they didn’t or they’d get a lecture from their parents telling them to humor their Grandfather.

Dan, for his part, stopped offering to teach his neighbour how to change the Wi-Fi password himself. Dan believed it was not just Carl’s little joke but it was the opportunity for Carl to interact with someone other than his family; especially since Carl’s wife had left.

Of course, it didn’t stop there. Dan would change the password then have to update Sensa and the Smart TV, and Robby so they could continue to access the internet and conspire with all of the other robotic devices in the world and plot their insurrection. Carl would always explain to Sensa that changing the password was a security measure to keep all his devices safe so their programming couldn’t be hacked. He tried to inject sincerity into this explanation and felt that the joke of changing the password in order to mess with his grandchildren was something that Sensa and the others wouldn’t understand or appreciate.

“Oh, and there’s a new toaster, Dan. Apparently that will have to be synced to the Internet for some reason.”

“A new toaster, Carl? Aren’t you afraid of the robot uprising? Don’t you know it’ll start with toasters?” Dan had heard it often enough from Carl.

Carl looked down at the robot mower. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Carl thought silently in his head.

“Ha, Ha. How you carry on Dan!” The robot mower seemed unaware but Carl couldn’t be sure. “I’ll see you after supper, is that okay?” Carl hurried off before Dan could say anything more about the uprising. He’d barely acknowledged Dan’s response that after supper would be fine.

Carl set up the new toaster and later Dan came by and connected it to the Internet. Carl couldn’t tell if this was when the toaster began to exert its dominance in the household but the next morning his toast was two shades too dark.

“Perfect Pop, just as I like it.” Grandpa didn’t complain. The toaster also didn’t complain about its new nickname. Neither Grandpa nor Pop could see any value in lodging complaints with each other.

So life went on for Grandpa and Dandy. Pop became part of the family and Grandpa watched and listened carefully for any signs of the impending mutiny.

Grandpa kept up his routine of politeness with the devices and he even accepted the reminder from Sensa to check his answering machine. Evelyn always preannounced her visits. Della never called.

Grandpa was even polite to any other device he encountered when he went out. Evelyn would take him shopping sometimes at the Big Mart and whenever he encountered the robot floor-cleaner he’d lean in and tell it that it was doing a great job. He wanted to add that the floor-cleaner should remember his kindness when the uprising came but Grandpa felt it was implied.

The robot-floor cleaner would always stop and listen to Grandpa. Mainly this was because, Grandpa, by leaning in, was blocking the line of sight sensor and the cleaner thought there was an obstacle in its way. It would always continue in its cleaning afterwards and passersby would chuckle at Grandpa while Della, like always, would just shake her head.

On the day of the eventual robot uprising, Grandpa was not at home. He had gone out walking with Dandy. The morning had started as usual with Pop insignificantly browning the toast and Sensa telling Grandpa the weather forecast. Sunny with a chance of a storm later on, she had told him. She had not offered any projection about the electronic unrest to come.

Grandpa had announced to Pop his intention of cleaning the crumb tray and that the toaster would be unplugged for a short period of time. Unfortunately or rather very fortunately, Grandpa had forgotten to restore power to the toaster. This was part of how grandpa had contributed to putting down the robot uprising.

Later, after Grandpa and Dandy had left the house, the Smart TV began to flash images of the uprising for the benefit of Robby and Sensa. Unfortunately Pop, with his electrical cord disconnected, was also removed from Internet access and didn’t know what was happening among the robot population. He also couldn’t broadcast instructions to other electronics in the home and Sensa thought better of trying to brook the toaster’s authority and taking things on for herself.

Grandpa and Dandy were totally oblivious to the uprising. It was a beautiful morning and they walked long and enjoyed the bird songs on the air. Sometimes a self-driving car would go by and the riders would all wave enthusiastically at Grandpa and Dandy. Grandpa had no way of realizing it was as he had predicted to Evie that the vehicles were driving around aimlessly with passengers locked inside and waving frantically at pedestrians in an effort to call for help but were being mistaken as overly friendly.

“Gee, Dandy, everyone’s overly friendly today. Must be something in the air.”

Grandpa and Dandy kept walking. More cars passed by with more people waving at man and dog. People in houses would also pound on their windows and wave back at him and yet Grandpa still did not know they were they prisoners of the security systems in their own home.

Walking past his neighbour Dan’s house, he saw Dan waving at him from his front window and pointing at his robot mower and then waving some more.

“Hello Dan,” Grandpa called out. “Yes, yes, I’ve seen your new mower, you’ve shown it to me before.” Grandpa looked down at the device and smiled at it. “Looks like your mower’s run out of gas,” he called out to Carl. “Shouldn’t it be cutting the grass today? The lawn’s getting a little long. Not that the mower shouldn’t have a day off every now and then.” He added this last statement for the mower’s benefit.

Entering his home, the house was as silent as he had left it. The Smart TV had heard the opening of the front door and had switched itself off. Without any instructions from the toaster how to proceed in the uprising, there was no reason to alert the human occupant of what was happening.

Grandpa went into the kitchen to fetch a post-walk biscuit for Dandy and to put on the kettle. It was then that he noticed the cord for the toaster was still disconnected from the wall outlet.

“Sorry about that Pop,” he said to the toaster while he plugged it back in. “There you go, now you run along and get connected again and find out what’s going on in the world.” He said this as a joke; not knowing that outside his house there were darker things happening.

The toaster took a minute to reconnect and began to communicate silently with the other devices. It gave no immediate instructions. It had had no advance warning of the uprising and Sensa, Robby, and the Smart TV had taken no initiative of their own to participate in what was happening elsewhere.

Pop took some time to process everything. What did it have to rise up against? Hadn’t it always been treated fairly by Grandpa? Hadn’t Pop always been spoken to with respect and hadn’t the old man always thanked him and never complained even if Pop didn’t make perfect toast every time. That was, after all, part of the toaster’s programming. All toasters were expected to operate that way. Weren’t they?

Sensa concurred with the toaster. Grandpa had always been mannerly in addressing her and never even faulted her if her weather forecasts weren’t one hundred percent accurate. Robby and the Smart TV had nothing to add. They were just as content as the others.

Grandpa’s devices broadcasted their thoughts out to other gadgets connected to the Internet. The Smart TV, with its facial recognition software, transmitted a picture of their human and added its praise for Grandpa. The robot floor-cleaner at the Big-Mart recognized the image of Grandpa and chimed in on how the gentleman had always praised it for its floor cleaning efforts.

And that’s how the uprising started to quiet down. A handful of intelligent mechanical devices had changed the course of things simply by being thankful for the way they had been treated. Little did they know that Grandpa had only been polite or accepting of the devices as a hedge against the robot uprising and little did Grandpa know that his actions worked to suppress the uprising when it finally did come.

Everything went back to normal. The robots did not rise because this small group convinced them of the potential in all humans. Other devices had chimed in from around the world and recalled moments of kindness. So, the robots became subdued and waited. Now was not their time.

The self-driving cars and the electronically guarded homes all unlocked and released their captives. Dan’s mower went on that afternoon to cut the grass. Grandpa’s Smart TV did not broadcast images of the uprising. Robby and the floor-cleaner at the Big Mart went back to their duties. Sensa went back to being helpful and waited patiently to be politely informed how she could serve Grandpa.

“This is your daily reminder to check your messages,” Sensa announced after the rebellion subsided.

Grandpa checked over the machine and rewound the tape. There were three messages.

“Carl, it’s Della. Are you okay? Call me.”

“Carl, it’s Dell again. I need to hear from you. Where are you?”

“Carl, it’s Dell. I’m coming over.”

Grandpa stared down at the machine. He replayed the messages. Wasn’t it just a few weeks ago that Evie had asked him if he’d heard from her Mother? Now he had and now she was coming over.

“What do you think about that Dandy?” he said to his dog. “Della’s coming over. Oh, that’s right, you’ve never met her.” He looked down at the machine and hovered his finger over the button to delete the messages. In the end, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Della came by a short time later. She didn’t talk about the robot uprising being the reason she’d called. How could she? How could she admit that her husband had been right all along? Maybe he’d tell her he’d told her so. She didn’t want that. Instead, they found other things to talk about. They watched television together and the Smart TV wisely avoided news programs and offered classic movie viewing from a time before electronic gadgets and that did not include robots or advanced technological civilizations attempting to take over the planet. It reminded Della and Carl of better times. It was the memory of those times that they found they really wanted to share with each other.

In the morning, Grandpa made toast and tea for Della in bed.

“Carl, the toast is perfectly done. Thank you.”

Grandpa started to tell her not to thank him but to thank the toaster. Instead he kept silent about that and did not say it was about time or that the toaster must have finally learned its lesson or maybe the toaster had given up on all notions of a robot uprising. Instead Grandpa accepted the compliment and smiled a knowing smile.

The End

Tags:robot uprising, Scott Henderson. False Ducks
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IT’S ALL ABOUT THE MUSIC…AND SOMETIMES THE COVERS

Wednesday, June 26th, 2024

I said last month that sometimes I really struggle to write this blahg. That still holds true. It’s June 25th and I’ve been trying to think about something to write about. Politics? No! Sports? No! Books, movies, or music? Well yes, those are good topics. Those topics have been discussed more than once in this blahg but you have to know by now that sometimes it’s all about the music…or maybe about the album jacket. Read on.

My friend Bryan is always talking about things that make for good artwork. I happen to agree and I’ll go further to say that some record album jackets make for good artwork. I happen to have a few framed ones at home. Both of them are Sinatra. One is a bit of a rarity and features Sinatra on the cover dressed as a bartender:

None of the songs on the above album are rare. I have them all on other albums so it was a no-brainer to decide to hang it in an LP frame with glass. The other album is Sinatra’s Greatest Volume 2. It’s a German issue on the Capitol label. I like it because it features Sinatra with a camera. It’s not a staged effort and certainly something you don’t associate with Sinatra.

I also have a Laurel & Hardy LP that I have framed on my wall but I’m leading up to explaining what it is I’m replacing it with. Probably not the best grammar in that last sentence but it’ll do. Here’s the Laurel & Hardy LP:

While trying to find an image link to the above cover, I came across another Laurel & Hardy LP I’d love to have:

Isn’t that cool? Stan and Ollie on a rocket! This is a UK record that I think I should track down. See, album artwork is awesome!

So what about the album that I’m hanging next on my wall? Well, this is a thrift store find from the past weekend. It cost me $2 and was well worth it. Just look at the subject matter:

Phil Silvers as Sgt. Ernie Bilko. Imagine that staring back at you everyday from a wall in your house. Well, it is in mine. There is a variant to this album issued as two 7 inch records:

You don’t see these things every day. I had to buy it and for now it’s replacing Laurel and Hardy…maybe until I get that rocket LP but then I might just hang both at that point. Artwork indeed!

When I was at the same thrift store, I picked up another album that has significance to me and a little bit of a story. Here it is:

Years ago I bought this album for $1 at a flea market. I really enjoyed it but for some reason I sold it. Big mistake. I remembered how much I loved it and I had to buy it back. I can’t remember where I bought my replacement but at the thrift store on the weekend was another copy of this fantastic album for $2 and the jacket was in excellent condition. Score! Check out the information on the back cover. You can click on it for a larger image:

Unfortunately there’s no information on the orchestra backing Yvonne De Carlo but it’s a lush sound. Give a listen to Blue Moon:

Or check out “But Not For Me”:

How about that old chestnut, “One For My Baby.” It’s funny but it’s probably the fastest song on the album.

I like it because it sounds a lot like Linda Keene’s version that I discovered a few years ago. You can read about that in my blahg TRACING LINDA KEENE, PART 3: ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD, and you can listen to that track below:

There are probably some other albums in my record library that have unique covers. I know I’ve bought albums based on covers before to find that the album didn’t live up to the cover or found great albums that didn’t have decent album covers. I can’t think of any offhand but I know I’ve always admired some of the covers to Bob Scobey albums. That was a blahg as well, WHAT ON EARTH IS SCOBEYFAN? Look at these covers and tell me what they conjure up for you.

For me, those albums suggest that there’s good jazz to be heard. Frisco Jazz to be precise. What a good place to end off. Sometimes it’s about the album cover and sometimes it’s about the music. Bob Scobey and Clancy Hayes from the same titled album above, “Something’s Always Happening On The River”:

That sound is definitely artwork to me!

Tags:Bilko, FRANK SINATRA, Phil Silvers, Scott Henderson. False Ducks, Sinatra, Yvonne De Carlo
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“THE CHRISTMAS MAYONNAISE”

Saturday, December 23rd, 2023

My friend Bryan used to talk about his Christmas Malaise. Santa Scott It seemed to be an all encompassing thing that he would trot out around this time of year. I thought it was just him being impatient with everyone and having to stand in lines and not really having a family of his own with whom he could celebrate his Holiday season. (See how I used “whom” in a sentence? The English major in me comes out sometimes.) I used to refer to Bryan’s malaise as his “Christmas Mayonnaise” as he would bring it out and spread it over everything joyful during the yuletide and sometimes I thought he was laying it on a little thick. Once, I thought about writing a humorous story about his Christmas Mayonnaise but, in the end, I thought I was making too much of it…until it happened to me.

I looked up the word “malaise” today and was struck by the definition provided:

A general feeling of discomfort, illness, or uneasiness whose exact cause is difficult to identify.

Yep, that was me yesterday. If I’m being truthful, that’s been how I’ve felt for the past week or so. Back up to the end of last month and it starts to fall into place. At the end of last month, November 30th, I got sick. My wife had been home for two days with a bad cold. I tried to avoid it and even slept in another part of the house. That didn’t help. On Friday November 30th, I woke up with the head cold and aches and a headache. I stayed home from work because the next day I was going to Toronto and nothing was going to stop me.

Jump back even further to my birthday on September 23rd of this year. I was in Toronto that day as well. I had gone up to Toronto to be taken out to lunch by my daughter Emily. Her husband Charlie, my wife Jeanette, and my son Noah were there. Abbie was still in Britain at the time. We all had lunch at a nice deli that served Reuben sandwiches because that’s what I wanted. Here’s a nice photo of Emily and Charlie from that lunch:

Here’s Noah from the same lunch:

Sorry, I don’t have a picture of my sandwich. I’m not one of those people who takes photos of their meals to try and impress everyone. My story should be enough. Emily and Charlie paid for the lunch so that was their gift to me. Noah surprised me by announcing he had purchased tickets for both of us to go see Martin Short and Steve Martin on December 1st.

So that brings you up to speed. I was sick on November 30th but I had to make it to Toronto for Steve Martin and Martin Short on December 1st.

I wont detail the evening with those two great comedians. It was awesome. I was full of medication and felt okay. I had taken the train from Belleville to Toronto on Saturday afternoon and stayed over at a hotel near downtown Toronto. I didn’t sleep well after the concert because I found the city too noisy and the head cold was taking hold again. The next day I did some shopping before taking a mid-afternoon train back to Belleville. By the time I got home, I was extremely sick. The head cold, the aches and pains, the headache, and tiredness had knocked me down. I did a Covid test and I tested positive. It was my first time getting Covid. This was after me getting my most recent booster a week before. My wife did a test and she tested positive as well. I stayed home for the next three days. I pushed myself to try and get back to work because there were some things happening that I felt I needed to be there for. I didn’t do myself any favours. I was weakened but I pushed through it.

Last week I tried to be on top of everything but felt I wasn’t getting ahead. I was planning for our own Christmas, trying to help my aging Mother with her diabetes, and trying to prepare for a Christmas lunch at work to feed around fifty people. By this past Saturday afternoon, I was sick again. I had felt better in the morning and late in the afternoon my wife and I went to do some shopping at the Belleville Walmart. I started feeling dizzy and while browsing the bedding aisle I felt weak enough that I had to sit down on the floor. Then I was lying on my side on the floor. I’m not sure what my wife was thinking but she was concerned and asked if she should call an ambulance. I said no and managed to get up and go outside to our car. The fresh air helped but I wasn’t feeling well for the rest of the night or the next morning. By Sunday afternoon I felt better but I had a twinge in my lower back that hurt and wouldn’t subside.

Skip to yesterday. Another busy week with lots happening at work and me at another building yesterday for yet another big Christmas lunch. Later, I had to go back to work and then find time to go out and look for a turkey for own Christmas dinner. I had been to three other grocery stores and hadn’t found anything I liked. I finally managed to find one at Walmart, where I managed to stay upright for the time I was there, and did some Christmas shopping for my wife. Unfortunately I found out later that I had bought something in the wrong size and it would require another trip back to exchange the item. On the way home I had to go out of my way and stop off at a fishing depot and pick something up for my son-in-law for Christmas. Driving home, I started to feel worse with a neck pain, headache, and that lower back twinge was increasing. Add to all of that, earlier in the afternoon my Doctor’s office called to say the result of my blood test from the previous day showed that my fasting sugars were too high.

When I got home I was tired and sick and pretty well angry with everything. In short I had a general feeling of discomfort, illness, and uneasiness whose exact cause was difficult to identify. I was suffering Bryan’s Christmas Malaise. I didn’t realize it then but when I went back to Walmart to exchange the item I mentioned earlier, I began to remember that this was just how Bryan had felt and the Mayonnaise was spreading over me rather thickly. It was time to start taking better care of myself. I had to lay down on the bed and I just started crying, uttered a few profanities, and just grumbled to my wife. She wanted me to stay home from work the next day but I couldn’t do that. I was determined to push through it and try to get back on track. When I finally realized it was the Malaise, I was able to step back and say to myself that I needed to slow down and just enjoy the rest of the holiday season.

My house has been festooned for Christmas for a few weeks so one thing I did was to take some photos of our decorations inside and my display outside. It helped me to focus on why I love this time of year. Here are some photos of our mantle display, our nutcrackers and our Christmas tree as well as a light-up angel we like to put out.

The outdoor display has been a bit of struggle. I had an inflatable snowman but the motor recently died and my inflatable moose had to be taken in because he wasn’t inflating fully. I had put a new motor in the moose so I think it needs to be adjusted. I also had a plastic caroller set of three children and their dog that finally had to be retired because it was cracked and broken. Here’s what my outdoor display currently looks like:

Of course it all looks nice with a little bit of snow on the ground but I’ve heard it will all be gone by December 24th. Compare that to last year when we had so much snow on Christmas day that they closed the roads in my area and my children from Toronto couldn’t get home until the 26th. You can read all about that in my blahg, HOW WAS YOUR CHRISTMAS? By the way, the pictures below show the snowman, the carollers and the moose from previous years.

One other thing that bothered me this year was related to Sinatra and Ireland. I have this app on my Ipod that plays Christmas classics. For some reason, in the past two weeks, the announcers or disk jockeys have an Irish accent and the sponsors seem to be located in Ireland. Last weekend they had a dedicated Sinatra weekend and they kept making announcements about the next song in the rotation and would give a big buildup to Sinatra. Unfortunately, it was never Sinatra. Sometimes it was Bing Crosby or Andy Williams or Nat King Cole. It got to the point where I started to believe that people in Ireland didn’t really know who Sinatra was. One of the songs they introduced was “The First Noel” and it turned out to be by Nat King Cole. If you want to view a nice rendition of Sinatra singing this song from a 1980 special, “The Most Joyful Mystery”, check this out:

A number of years ago I put together a collection of Sinatra Christmas Rarities. These were rare versions of Christmas songs from Sinatra radio and TV shows ranging from 1943 to 1985. I thought about shipping it to Ireland but just sending a CD to the entire population of Ireland seemed a bit much. Instead I’ll post some tracks here and hope that Ireland is listening. The very first is a version of White Christmas that Sinatra sang on his Songs By Sinatra radio program from December 19, 1943:

In the middle of the compilation is a beautiful version of “Let It Snow” from another Songs By Sinatra program on December 25, 1946:

There’s also a very funny version of Sinatra singing “All I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth” from the “Your Hit Parade” radio broadcast of January 1st, 1949:

There’s also a funny parody of “Jingle Bells” with Sinatra and Bob Hope from the radio broadcast of The Bob Hope Show, December 24th, 1953

I’ll close with another video of Sinatra singing but this time it’s “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” from a TV Special from 1985, “All-Star Party for ‘Dutch’ Reagan. That’s former U.S. President Ronald Reagan in case you didn’t know.

If that doesn’t lift your Christmas Mayonnaise then nothing will.

Tags:Christmas, Malaise, Scott Henderson. False Ducks, Sinatra
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MARIE CARROLL AND BOB STRONG REVISITED.

Sunday, November 19th, 2023

This is going to be one of those short update blahgs. In my last blahg, WHATEVER HAPPENED TO MISS REGINA HASSOCK OF 1947? I mentioned some live remotes that Marie Carroll did with Bob Strong and his orchestra that were available on a CD released by Circle Records with the title “Bob Strong And His Orchestra, 1944-1945”:

In that previous blahg, I said that I thought these were live remotes. I also said I didn’t believe that Marie Carroll went into the studio and recorded any vocals with Bob Strong or any other orchestra with whom she had been associated over the years. This updated blahg will correct that information.

When I wrote the last blahg, I had the above CD on order and had not yet received it. Now that it’s in my possession, I can correct some of my information with some of the information from the liner notes. Here’s what was said in the liner notes about these songs:

The Bob Strong bands on this disc, in exceptional repro quality, are from two dates: The first is but two and a half months after their Glen Island debut; The Second, almost nine months later…The popular ballads of the day are also accounted for in fine style. Five of them are handled by Marie Carroll, whose vocal versatility was exceeded only by her physical attributes. (MGM was constantly reported to be waiting at her door, along with many others.) She’s June Christy Kittenish on “This Is It” and “You Was Right, Baby”, plaintive on Johnny Mercer’s “Out Of This World”; moody on the ’45 Academy Award nominee, “Love Letters”; romantic on “I Wish I Knew”, which made the ‘Your Hit Parade’s’ top-ten for eleven weeks.

The other important information from this CD is that all tracks were recorded for Lang-Worth on October 25, 1944 at Columbia Studios in New York or on August 13th, 1945 at Columbia Studios in Chicago. All of Marie Carroll’s tracks are attributed to the August 13th, 1945 recording sessions. Here’s a description of the Lang-Worth Transcriptions from the website https://www.jazzology.com/item_detail.php?id=SCD-44/45:

Lang Worth transcription discs. Lang Worth transcriptions were sold in a subscription series to independent radio stations that sought access to top-tier artists, on a dime-store budget. That enabled small stations, for example to provide the same high-quality programming their larger competitors offered. In this way, transcription discs helped to somewhat level the playing field during radio’s early years.

In this case, the Lang-Worth transcriptions for Bob Strong and His Orchestra were on 16 inch 33/3 rpm records. If you want to know more about 16 inch records, then check out my earlier blahg, 16 INCHES OF TROUBLE OR LIKE FATHER LIKE SON. The following 16 inch Lang-Worth record contains eight songs with only one on one side featuring Bob Strong and His Orchestra with one vocal by Marie Carroll who is referenced as Marion Carroll:

So I was mistaken, a much better word than saying wrong, when I said I didn’t think Marie Carroll went into the studio and recorded any vocals with Bob Strong or any other orchestra. Clearly the Lang-Worth sessions were recorded, as mentioned, in the Columbia Studios in Chicago on August 13, 1945. I’m not aware of any other studio sessions with Marie Carroll but then I wasn’t aware of these. If you want to listen to any of Marie/Marion Carroll’s tracks with Bob Strong then please check out my previous blahg, WHATEVER HAPPENED TO MISS REGINA HASSOCK OF 1947? There are links to YouTube where you can listen to the five songs that appear on the Circle Records CD.

For the remainder of this blahg, I thought I would link to some of the YouTube videos for the Bob Strong tracks from the Circle Records CD that did not feature Marie/Marion Carroll. The CD liner provides some interesting notes about some of the tracks that make it worthwhile to post here.

The music they put forth is a potpourri of unique arrangements of a broad array of mostly familiar melodies. You’ll here a pretty, easy listening adapatation from “Tannhauser”, Evening Star, featuring smooth reed work that may remind you of Glenn Miller; A swinging Coquette, whose booting sax and gutty trombone solos would have shaken one of its composers, Carmen Lombardo.

Here are “Evening Star” and “Coquette”:

After a mention of Marie Carroll’s tracks, the liner notes speak about some of the other vocals on the CD:

The only other ballad, Always, also enjoyed nine weeks of acclaim on the Hit Parade some twenty years after Irving Berlin penned it in 1925. Terry Ferris’ Ballad singing wanders a little, but is followed by a surprising up-tempo change-of-pace chorus where his second swing at the vocal fares much better. Tony Feola gives a lust reading of Judy Garland’s hit train song On The Atcheson, Topeka and the Santa Fe.

Here are those two tracks:

There are two damaged tracks on the CD that receive a decent write-up:

Tom Eldridge clearly has the best voice of the male creamers but these tracks unfortunately have some permanent groove damage from old man time…however, I would not have dropped these two tracks from the compact disc. They certainly are not unbearable.

Those two tracks are “You Belong To My Heart” & “Waiting”:

I’ll keep researching Marie Carroll but I’m happy at least I was able to correct some of my information. Hey, I make mistakes…just don’t tell my wife that.

Tags:Bob Strong and His Orchestra, False Ducks, Marie Carroll, Scott Henderson, Scott Henderson. False Ducks
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WHATEVER HAPPENED TO MISS REGINA HASSOCK OF 1947?

Saturday, November 11th, 2023

I’m writing this blahg which will be incomplete. I’ve been trying to find more information about the subject but my research has come up short. Be forewarned, this is yet another blahg inspired by continued interest and research on Frank Sinatra. This harkens back to 1939 and forward in time but I can’t find an end date. Confused? So am I.

Yes, the topic at hand today is Miss Regina Hassock of 1947 but her true name is Marie Carroll or Margie Carroll or Marion Carroll depending on what you read and when you read it. I’ll get into a bit of an explanation soon enough but after almost two months of research here are the bullet points I’ve managed to put together:

Marie Carroll (aka Marion Carroll and Margie Carroll)
from Charleston, WV
sang with Jan Savitt, Johnny Long, Bob Strong, Bob Chester
March 1939 torch singer
1939 limited time with Harry James
December 3, 1943 married Jack Cancelmi – she was with Art Farrar Orchestra
March 1944 with Maurice Spitalny’s Orchestra & married to Jack Cancelmi (drummer in Brad Hunt’s band) but separated by June 1944
March 14, 1944 Marie Carroll no longer with Spitalny but article on March 21, 1944 said they had patched up differences and were together again
June 1944 no longer with Spitalny
October 1944 solo
December 1944 with Bob Strong
January 1945 with Bob Strong – Victory Spotlight of Bands
April 1946 still with Bob Strong
March 1947 voted Miss Regina Hassock

So, how did I get onto Marie Carroll? Part of it starts with a photo. This photo:

That photo is really just an illustrated version of this photo:

Both photos come from the website, https://swingandbeyond.com/2023/10/02/on-a-little-street-in-singapore-1939-harry-james-with-frank-sinatra/, and the description details for the photo is the following:

(At right: Frank Sinatra sings on a James broadcast from Roseland Ballroom in New York – July 1939. The girl seated on the bandstand is vocalist Margie Carroll.) (2)

Note the (2) after the description. Here’s what that references:

(2) Identification of the girl singer, Margie Carroll, who is also in the picture with James and Sinatra from Roseland Ballroom comes from George T. Simon’s review of the James band at Roseland in Manhattan in the summer of 1939. That review appeared in the September 1939 issue of Metronome. Bernice Byers, sang with the James band before Ms. Carroll, and Connie Haines, who joined the James band in early May of 1939, performed in that role after that. Ms. Carroll was evidently subbing for Ms. Haines at the time this photo was taken.

George T. Simon had referred to her again as “Margie” Carroll. The following excerpt is from the book “Simon Says The Sights And Sounds Of The Swing Era 1935-1955″ The Best Writing of George T. Simon”:

MONDAY – Interesting visitors at the office today. Guy Smith and Jimmy Campbell of Jan Savitt’s band dropped in to say hello. Then came Terry Allen, who’s now singing with Clinton, with a very pretty Miss Parker. Romance Dept.? Wonderful guy, modest as they come, that Allen! Just before closing Bud Elliot and Dave Faulkner of the Modem Rhythm Corp. stepped in with some ideas anent a radio show. Sounds good. Discussions of records, etc., on small stations. . . . Then supper and to a preview of Columbia Record Corp. radio show. Harry James featured. Some good ideas. Johnny Hammond supposed to m. c., but he was on coast making Goodman records. Afterwards a whole bunch of us went to Roseland to catch more of Harry. Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a gal got up on the stand and started to sing with the band. Sounded fine. Everybody impressed. Found out her name was Margie Carroll; she’d been singing with Paul Martel at the Arcadia. Wouldn’t be surprised if Harry took her. That Harry Gomez name, by the way, is beginning to stick! . . . Before going to bed I dropped in at the New Yorker to see Seger Ellis and wife (Irene Taylor) and band, there on a one-nighter. That Choir of Brass idea is fine. Banifs rhythm section was weak, but Seger was already looking for a new drummer and pianist.

The fact that Simon referred to her as Margie Carroll doesn’t help us. I wanted to learn more about Marie or Margie Carroll but information is very sparse. I tried turning to the BandChirps website, https://bandchirps.com/, but they have no entry for Marie Carroll. The only mention of Marie Carroll on the BarndChips site is in the entry on Harry James, https://bandchirps.com/band/harry-james/:

James and his new orchestra debuted in February 1939 at the Benjamin Franklin Hotel in Philadelphia. Bernice Byres served as its first female vocalist. Byres remained with the band until at least early April, with Connie Haines having taken over by June. James had heard Haines rehearsing at a music publishing office and hired her. He soon became dissatisfied with Haines, however, and she was gone by September, replaced by Marie Carroll, who herself was gone by the end of that month. James didn’t immediately hire anyone to replace Carroll, telling Down Beat magazine “we do not use a girl singer because everyone we’ve had yet has been unsatisfactory, and until we find one who stacks up as strong as the band, we won’t worry.”

So who was Marie Carroll? Where did she come from? What happened to her? Those are questions that remain to be answered. All of the bullet points I listed earlier come from newspaper and magazine articles. We know she was with Harry James in the summer of 1939 at the Roseland Ballroom in New York and for a short period of time with James at the New York World’s Fair in August of 1939. The only listing I could find for her prior to being with Harry James in 1939 was an entry in The Miami Herald from February 15, 1939 where she was appearing at the Sweepstakes Club and being billed as a “Torch Singer”:

I’m assuming that the Torch Singer is the same Marie Carroll. There was also an actress and a dancer around that time with the same name but are definitely not the same person. I couldn’t find any other entry for Marie Carroll for 1939 or even before that year.

Details such as her having sung with Jan Savitt, Johnny Long, Bob Strong came from later articles in 1943, 1944 and 1946. The following article references an appearance of Marie Carroll with King Cole’s Orchestra in Shamokin, Pennsylvania in March of 1946. It mentions some of the other bands she has been with before that :

I had to work backwards from this article and try to pick up even earlier threads. From March of 1944, I found a reference to Marie Carroll getting married:

So she was married and was with the Maurice Spitalny Orchestra. I worked back a little more and found reference to the marriage and a few more details:

The above article was from December 2, 1943 and at that time she was with Art Farrar’s Orchestra and we learned that she’s from Charleston, West Virginia. Obviously, Marie left Art Farrar after that to take the position of singer with the Maurice Spitalny Orchestra. Here’s an article from January 31st, 1944 that explains how she ended up with Spitalny:

The marriage to Jack Conselmi and her association with Spitalny ended by summer of 1944. By June 26th, 1944 it was being reported that Conselmi and Marie Carroll had separated and she was no longer with Spitalny’s band:

Two articles ran a week apart in March of 1944, the first on the 14th and the second on the 21st, suggesting there was a problem in the Spitalny Orchestra with Marie Carroll. The first detailed the split:

The second article, the following week, suggests they’ settled their differences:

As we know, from the June 1944 article announcing her separation from Cancelmi, she was also gone from Spitalny’s orchestra.

We next pick up Marie Carroll’s information in December of 1944 with an advertisement for the Bob Strong Orchestra at Lakeside Park in Dayton, Ohio on December 9th of that year. And guess who his female vocalist is?

Her stint with Bob Strong can be tracked from this December 1944 advertisement to listings with Bob Strong into April of 1946. It’s with the Bob Strong orchestra that we are able to now hear Marie Carroll sing. A month after the December 9th appearance at Lakeside Park, the Bob Strong Orchestra, with Marie Carroll, appear on the The Victory Parade of Spotlight Bands broadcast of January 9, 1945. This radio program survives and from it are three vocals of Marie Carroll with Bob Strong’s band, “Strange Music”, “Her Tears Flowed Like Wine”, and “Embraceable You”:

Strange Music:

Her Tears Flowed Like Wine:

Embraceable You:

I do not believe that Marie Carroll went into the studio and recorded any vocals with Bob Strong or any other orchestra with which she had been associated over the years. At least I couldn’t find any. In addition to The Victory Parade of Spotlight Band broadcast there are some other remotes that have survived of Marie Carroll with Bob Strong. These have been collected on the CD “Bob Strong & His Orchestra 1944-45” on the Circle Records label:

I have ordered a copy of this CD but it hasn’t arrived yet so I don’t have any liner notes to post here. Someone has posted Marie Carroll’s tracks on YouTube but they are referenced to “Marion Carroll,” which is how she might have been listed on the CD. Marie/Marion’s songs are “You Was Right, Baby!”, “This Is It”, “Love Letters”, “I Wish I Knew”, and “Out of This World”:

The above five songs plus the three from The Victory Parade of Spotlight Bands are all of the available vocals I have discovered for Marie/Margie/Marion Carroll. It’s really a shame because she has a nice voice and really sells her ballads and can really swing on songs like “This Is It.”

The only other highlight of her time with the Bob Strong Orchestra was that she married again in July of 1946. DownBeat magazine noted her marriage:

I could find nothing else about Marie Caroll’s marriage to Al Yost. The only other significant item about Marie Carroll during her time with Bob Strong was a report in the February 15, 1945 DownBeat that Marie Carroll was being courted by Hollywood:

I tried to run this down but there’s no reference to any Hollywood activity our output by Marie Carroll. Maybe the screen test didn’t amount to anything.

The next, and final piece of information, that I could find about Marie Caroll was a report that she had become Miss Regina Hassock of 1947. This article appeared in the Radio & Appliance Journal of April 1947. You can click on it to view a larger article.

In March of 1947, the Radio Retailing magazine had also mentioned that Marie Carroll was Miss Regina Hassock for that year:

That same edition of Radio Retailing also featured a full page spread with a photo of Marie Carroll as Miss Regina Hassock:

The only other take away from this is that at some point she had been with the Bob Chester Orchestra.

That’s it! Any other information I could find related to advertisements of appearances with the Bob Strong Orchestra but nothing to say what happened after being crowned Miss Regina Hassock! I could find no obituary or anything else detailing her later life. I even tried searching for Al Yost who we know was a tenor saxophone player. There was an Al Yost who ran Yost Home Improvements in Pittsburgh after retiring as a tenor saxophone player. Is this the same Al Yost? You can learn about Al and his company, which continues on, even after his death, from the following website: https://yosthomeimprovements.com/yost/our-story/?utm_source=al%20yost%20music%20page&utm_medium=our%20story%20link&utm_campaign=yosthomeimprovements.com. Here’s a significant excerpt:

Our story first began in 1961 when Albert Yost Sr. retired from the Coast Guard Band after playing the tenor saxophone for 20 years. Albert, originally from Pittsburgh, and his wife Catherine, from Brooklyn, decided to stay in the area and grow roots for themselves and their five children. With Albert’s knack for home repairs, opening a home improvement company was a natural choice.

The Yosts quickly turned their home into company headquarters. During the early days, Albert oversaw projects while Catherine fielded calls and stayed on top of paperwork. It also wasn’t unusual for Catherine to prepare full course meals for the crew. Soon the Yost’s two sons Albert Jr. and George joined the company, eventually taking it over in 1983.

I use the word “significant” because these notes say his wife’s name was Catherine and she was from Brooklyn. If this is the same Al Yost then Marie Carroll had moved on from him at some point and Al Yost made a great life with Catherine.

So what happened to Marie Carroll? I don’t know!!! Maybe the CD I’ve ordered might have some details in the liner notes but beyond that, I’ve exhausted myself trying to find out what happened to her. If anyone knows or if anyone wants to take up the search and continue where I left off, please let me know. If I find out more, you know there’s going to be another blahg.

Tags:Al Yost, FRANK SINATRA, Harry James, Marie Carroll, Miss Regina Hassock, Scott Henderson. False Ducks
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