Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Retro Summer - the Old Posts: Favorite Past Adventure - It's a Magic Kind of Medicine

I wrote once in my early days that retelling my story about Renee was like sitting down with a cup of coffee and an old treasured book.  Remembering those events again and putting them into words was fun.

My original intent for the blog was to not do old stories but in retelling the new I started to remember the old.  In remembering the old I started to mentally write out the experiences.  Once I started writing them out on my treadmill at the gym I knew I had to write them out for the blog.

So this first "Past Adventure" was really like thumbing through an old high school annual and remembering those past adventures and smiling!

Retro Summer (Favorite Past Adventure) - It's a Magic Kind of Medicine 
Originally posted April 11th, 2011

To follow up on a theme I hit on last week, I was e-mailing a fellow blogger last Friday which helped me recall a wonderful memory from my early adulthood just after college.  This recollection was also augmented by my FFF entries from the past two weeks where I have hit on the “coming of age” and “lost opportunity” themes.  This is a memory of a truly fun night that came oh so deliciously close to being one of the greatest nights of my life.  But as Spock once said “after a time, you may find that having is not so pleasing a thing, after all, as wanting.  It is not logical, but it is often true.”  So here is a story from my history.”  And it also celebrates March Madness which of course ends tonight in April!

So our setting is in late March, 1992 on a Saturday night at a frat party in RaleighNC.  The backdrop is the NCAA East Regional Championship game between Christian Laettner’s Dreaded Dukies and the University of Kentucky.

now me talking (I would say picture me as River Phoenix but that might be a stretch for him now)…..

I had just finished college the previous August and had started a job in North Carolina a few weeks prior to this particular weekend (yes, I spent a semester finding myself but that would be a different story).  Earlier in the week a friend of mine from college said the frat was going to take a road trip down to Raleigh for the weekend and they were going to “party” with the State and Carolina chapters.  I couldn’t say no to that!

I was a little worried because I really wanted to watch the Duke/Kentucky game that night but I figured there would be a TV around somewhere (yes I am a geek).  So I make the drive over to Raleigh.  Btw, if you have ever been to Raleigh how many damn Jones roads can you have?  I got completely lost between Jones Sausage, Jones Hope, and Buck Jones
 Road, geez!

Anyway I finally found the party right at halftime of the game.  So I got to watch what is probably the best basketball game ever played.  And even though the wrong team won what a beautiful game it was.  It was two great teams playing at the periphery of their abilities and ending on that great full court pass by Grant Hill to Laettner for the buzzer beating shot.  The radio announcer aptly said after the shot “and that’s why they are #1.”

Oh well, luckily the story doesn’t end there!

A few minutes after the game one of my friends, Evan, introduced me to Whitney.  Well, maybe I actually horned in a bit and he introduced me just before I was going to introduce myself.  The truth is Whitney was pretty damn gorgeous and I could tell after about 10 minutes Evan wasn’t going to be able to close the deal so I thought, in the name of team spirit, I should start getting warmed up in the bullpen, lest I was needed later in the game J

Several of us eventually decided to go out to a club the locals knew of.  I quickly navigated/negotiated a ride in the car with Whitney.  As I sat next to her in the car we started to connect on the way to our destination.  Whitney said she was from “Winston” and I worked near so we had some things in common initially.  Btw anyone from Winston-Salem will always just say they are from Winston or from Salem or maybe even Bethabara or any other community in the area but I have never heard anyone say they are from Winston-Salem.

I think Whitney was into preppy guys and that particular night I was dressed a little preppie.  She was a UNC student and if you have been to Chapel Hill you would know that the required uniform of guys is khaki pants and Carolina blue Oxford cloth shirts.  I didn’t exactly have that on but I was wearing a solid white canvass type Ralph Lauren polo jacket and she said “that’s a nice jacket.”  When we got to the club (the name was something like “Lake (something) Boat Club….” but I can’t quite remember) we were going to have to wait in line a bit to get in and it was fairly chilly.  I offered my jacket to Whitney and she gladly accepted and said “you’re sweet” in her sugary Carolina accent!  Yep, I think its time to call Ryan in from the bullpen that curve aught to be "droppin' off the table" tonight in this cool Carolina air!!!

Once inside the club our group settled into an area against a waist high wall (this was an indoor/outdoor club).  Whitney and I sat next to each other on top of the wall, she with my jacket on and me sitting just close enough to be touching shoulders as the music was loud.  The band that was playing was some type of Jimmy Buffet tribute-like band.  Whitney and I did get up a few times to dance.  She was about average height with beautiful light brunette shoulder length hair.  She reminded me of Meredith Salinger.

As an aside ladies, let me tell you there are very few things that are more of a turn on to a guy than a beautiful woman wearing an article of our clothing!

At one point Whitney excused herself and I went to the bar to get the next round of drinks.  After securing drinks we intersected near an area that led to what I guess you could call a smoking area that was a little out of the way.  Luckily nobody was really using the smoking area so there was privacy.  We talked a little and at one point I saw her shiver.  I leaned into her and she leaned back.  In a few moments my right arm was around her waist and just inside the unzipped coat.  We were now chest to chest.  She set her drink down and I set down mine and then lowered my head gently to kiss her.  There was a series of light kisses interchanged with some small talk about something I certainly don’t remember now.  But the kisses grew longer and talk shorter and eventually we were “making out” against the outdoor wall of the club.  She had a tight wool sweater on very similar to the one above and I could feel her chest breathing against mine.  I moved my hand up and gently fondled the outside of her breasts.  She felt so good, tasted so good, and smelled so good – this was unbelievable. 

Unfortunately this was a bar and eventually people meandered into this area.  So I stopped for then, feeling assured that this would continue later……

Sorry, I’m at 2 pages in my Word document and that is my limit lest I be considered a hypocrite.  I will return to this soon! J

Thanks to Mrs H for being my muse on this!

Ia ora te natura
E mea arofa teie ao nei
Ia ora te natura
E mea arofa teie ao nei

In My Younger Days I was so Bad, Laughin' about All the Fun We've Had

Or the Day After a Night in the Life of Ryan Beaumont (on Tobacco Road)

Here is the continuation of my March Madness post from last Friday.  If you missed part one here it is.

Two posts with Jimmy Buffet lyrics, oh no!  I do like Jimmy but trust me I’m not a Parrot head.  I have seen him live twice, both times at the invite of an interested lady!  I think I said somewhere in this blog that I am very shy and that most of my female encounters have been at the behest of the lady.  J Btw, he is great in concert!

Anyway, as I said this club in Raleigh had a Jimmy Buffet tribute band and they did play my second favorite Jimmy Buffet song from above “One Particular Harbor” and Whitney and I slow danced.  This did have that movie-like feel to it.

But alas in any pack of sorority girls there often seems to be one girl who assigns herself to “prick blocking duty.”  And I was unlucky to have Cruella the evil sorority sister on the watch.  Apparently Cruella didn’t feel Whitney deserved me as much as I did. 

So at some point there was a quick and hurried exit from the bar back to the party.  This time I was not lucky enough to make my way into Cruella’s car.  I had to settle for a ride in my best friend’s car, Unfortunate Dave, whose luck has always been notoriously poor.

So I was at the mercy of Cruella and Unfortunate Dave and that is a recipe fraught with disaster!

And so as we approached the labyrinth of Jones Roads we lost our Chapel Hill girls.  My guess is they made that west bound exit on 40 back to UNC and I was left to a bad night’s sleep on some random couch in RaleighL  Sad was our life before the advent of cell phones and IM’ing!

One of my favorite “Gen X” movies is Less Than Zero and there is a scene where Andrew McCarthy and Jamie Gertz (btw another one of my all time celebrity crushes) are searching bar to bar for Robert Downey Jr.  I realized the last time I saw the movie that it would be a completely alien concept to have to do that now.  Why would you look for someone when you can just IM them!

“Well I woke up Sunday morning with no way to hold my head that didn't hurt.  And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad, so I had one more for dessert.  Then I fumbled through my closet for my clothes, and found my cleanest dirty …..”  Oh wait those are the lyrics to a Kris Kristofferson song, but it was how I felt.  But wait, where is my jacket?  Crap, Whitney still had it as we left the bar!

Oh well, I plan on finding out how to contact her and I’m sure I’ll get it back, or better yet let her keep it and have her!

Well quickly I found that Unfortunate Dave and Evan were of no help in trying to find Whitney, for some reason Evan seemed perturbed at even the thought of helping – I wonder why? J

So I limped back to my side of North Carolina and back to work on Monday hoping to find a way to reconnect with Whitney soon.  But soon never came and so Whitney is now just a fond memory to go back to now and then.   But maybe that is best.

Probably the closest to an HNT I'll do
But this does not end sadly, about two weeks later I would meet Natalie under similar circumstances at a bar my work friends and I frequented on certain nights back in my new hometown in another part of the state.  So my first Carolina girl would be Natalie rather than Whitney.  But that as they say is another story……..  And I never got the jacket back.  But a few months later I bought a brown leather bomber jacket with my first work bonus and that would be my “chic magnet” going forward.  J

Or better yet finishing that kiss!

Author's Note:  Whitney and Natalie were my first Carolina girls but certainly not my last.  I formed an unfortunate affinity for Carolina girls in those formative years that continues to ail me to this day!

  Just in case you were wondering my favorite Jimmy Buffet song is “Chanson pour les petite enfants” but that really doesn’t fit into a sex blog!

And that odd chorus to the song:
Ia Ora Te Natura (Nature lives, life to nature)
E Mea Arofa Teie Ao Nei 
(Have pity for the Earth, Love the Earth)
Ia Ora Te Natura 
(Nature lives, life to nature)
E Mea Arofa Teie Ao Nei 
(Have pity for the Earth, Love the Earth)

Apparently Jimmy Buffet wrote the song after looking at Cook’s Bay in Tahiti.  So enjoy the song below, it will take you to a more tranquil place!

Thursday, July 26, 2012

Retro Summer - the Old Posts: Favorite FFF - Kissed by the Sun

I had been reading the FFF's of other bloggers for a few months.  I wanted to try it but needed the right picture to be inspired.  Often FFF has some pretty steamy photos to tell a story around.  Me being a bit prudish (I know that sounds odd coming from someone who has a blog such as mine) had not found the right picture yet.  Then this picture hit and I knew the story within minutes.  The guy playing guitar seemed so happy and maybe a bit naive.  The women certainly had confidence and knew just how to handle the situation.  My mind inventory of movie scripts immediately began "spooling" and it turned up Mambo Kings and Havana (and the Rod Stewart song Maggie May).  Throw in "coming of age" and you get a nice little story.

I like the story so much that I did a follow up a few months later continuing the story of Thomas and Nadja.  To extend my story I took that original thought of Mambo Kings meet Maggie May and added a dash of Islands in the Stream, a pinch of Revenge, and just a little Bridges of Madison County on the back end (read to the end you'll get it).

I'd like to know what you think about my mythical cast at the end!

Panser has been a bit out of commission this summer but hopefully he will be back up and running soon.  Check him out and those that post stories to his lured photos!  And when it returns join in, it's a blast!

Retro Summer (Favorite FFF) - Kissed by the Sun
Originally posted March 25th 2011

God I remember the Summer of '58 like it was yesterday.  It was after Elvis and before the Beatles, but more importantly Bautista was still hanging on and Havana was one wonderful place for a young kid with an eye on life's experiences. 

My doting Cuban mom and strict Merchant Marine dad wanted college for me but I wanted a different education so I spent one youthful summer in Cuba.   I had spent some time on fishing and pleasure boats out of Key Biscayne and saved enough money for a Gibson guitar bought at a pawn shop in South Beach.  I had taught myself a few jazz and Latin riffs so I was sure I could get a few gigs in Havana or at worst make a living playing pool or poker.

What I didn’t realize was that I would be going to school.

That summer in Havana was where I met Nadja.  She was a dancer at a club I performed at on occasion and was a rare beauty who's hair had been "kissed by the sun" as they used to say.

On those warm Havana nights Nadja gave me the education that every boy dreams of but few ever receive.

Thanks for the idea! http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/

Kissed by the Sun II
In the Sunlight of Your Smile

I had a few requests to continue this story and this is a great picture so here goes.  Part I is here if you want to go back.  In truth, as I wrote the story I did have a much bigger story line in my head but only had 188 words to give so this is a bit liberating.  This is not so much of a story or script as it is a basic plot line.

Background:  summer 1958 in Cuba just before the fall of the Bautista regime.  Thomas Hudson, a 20 year old American from Miami, takes a summer off from college to live in Havana, Cuba working days on pleasure boats and nights as a back-up guitarist at the Club Dolphin Azul.  Thomas' strict Merchant Marine dad and doting Cuban mother were not happy with his decision but he wanted adventure!

That summer Thomas meets Nadja, a dancer at the club, and is immediately captivated by her charm, beauty, and elegance.  She is Cuban but owes her name and blond hair to her Hungarian mother.  Nadja is intrigued by Thomas for his passion for music, his love of life, and his innocents which is a welcome deviation from her current emotionally exhausting love life.

This sets up a love-quadrangle.  Previous to meeting Thomas, Nadja was romantically linked to 2 powerful men on opposite ends of the Cuban political spectrum.

Nadja is known in town to be the mistress of General Juan Antonio de Silva a very influential man in the Cuban military.  But her true love these past few years has been Andres, a revolutionary and close confidant to the Cuban guerilla leader Che Gavara.  Nadja and Andres fell in love a few years prior in their small farming town in Central Cuba.  They came to the big city together and their paths have intertwined ever since. 

A year ago Nadja met the General at the request of “the movement.”  But the man whose world she was to infiltrate became her benefactor.   He introduced her to some influential club owners and got her the current “gig” as the lead dancer at el Dolphin Azul.  The General, although brutal with revolutionaries, is always kind to her.  She has discovered a warm side to him that can be comforting.  Of course if he knew the real truth she was hiding, her relationship with Andres, then his warmth would turn cold in an instant like a tropical storm.

Additionally, Nadja’s love of Andres has been put to a test.  Andres’ fanatical passion for the revolution has now surpassed his love for Nadja.  He can no longer separate himself from “the movement”  and has alienated Nadja.  And that has left Nadja lonely and torn between her 2 worlds.

Thus enters Thomas, her guitarist and newfound friend and potential lover.  Over the summer they form a bond based on a shared passion for music and Nadja's desire to escape the political intrigue of her current life.  On one beautiful August weekend Thomas suggests they run away from it all to an island adventure by hitching a ride with one of his friends to Cayo Largo.

And so on a sunny late afternoon their boat pulled into that beautiful port.  Nadja was so happy to be in the fresh salty air and the gentle breeze.  Thomas pulled out his guitar and played a lively salsa tune.  Nadja moved and twirled to the music.  All was happy, no revolution, no past, no future, no commitments – just the now!

As they got to the dock sailors, fisherman, and anyone else stopped to hear the music and gasp at the beautiful woman whose hair was kissed by the sun.  After they got off board, Thomas hailed a cab and gave the address of the little Inn his friend George had suggested.  Thomas had saved just enough tip money for the room and perhaps a nice dinner.  The little Inn was right on the water and the bellman walked them to their Cabana – it had a gorgeous view.  The bellman let them know dinner would be ready by 6 pm if they planned on eating there.

Now Thomas speaks…..
Nadja then changed for dinner in the bathroom.  My mind focused on the bed for the first time and it hit me what I hoped would be happing later that evening.  I was not a virgin.  My first experience was last fall with my girlfriend at school, Lola.  It was a bit underwhelming.  Lola was cute but born of privileged.  I felt getting into her pants was a riddle to solve not a sharing of passion.  Sex with Lola was mechanical, as if I was performing a service and Lola was just dutifully on for the ride.  And by year end I did find out that I was a toy that she played with for a time but had to put away when daddy decided it was time to meet Mr. Ivy League.

But what would it be like with Nadja?

Well first was a lovely dinner.  The inn had a beautiful Sofrito of Seafood, Chorizo Sausage, rice, black beans and fried plantains.  We enjoyed ourselves and drank in the Caribbean view along with our Mojitos!  There was no war, no politics, just us and the warm sea air – this was delight, like a Hemingway novel or at least in the early part of the novel when everyone is happy.

After dinner we walked on the beach.  We found a secluded inlet and sat and enjoyed the sunset.  Nadja sat behind me, her chest leaning against my back and her legs and arms around mine.  As we enjoyed the view she tenderly kissed the back of my neck and ran her hands through my hair.  And as the sun set she said “oh my little Thomas you are going to remember this for the rest of your life, my dear.”

And on that beach Nadja and I made love for the first time.  And I do mean love for this was not simply sex – this was two passionate souls joining in the desire to pleasure and enjoy one another.  Over that evening, at first on the beach and later in our Cabana we were at one with each other – bodies moving in tandem, sweat seeping together forming rivers over our bodies.

And after a time when our bodies no longer had the strength to move we just lay there next to one another (Nadja’s head on my chest) on that bed, in that Cabana, next to that sea.  And for a moment time was frozen.  I have lived a wonderful life and have many memories but if in death I could ever go back to a moment in time that moment with Nadja would be it.

The entire weekend was beautiful.  As delightful as our first night was, we had a wonderful time just sipping coffee the next morning and talking about growing old.  We had a lovely day on the beach and at night more love making.  Sunday was just as delightful.  I wondered what would happen if we just never went back.  Could we just live in Caya Largo and make ends meet somehow?  I guess I’ll never know.

By Monday we were back in Havana and back to the life and the paradox of Nadja’s world.   A month later I was back at U of Miami at Nadja’s insistence.  She said she would try to find a way to come to the states if things went badly in Cuba.

In fact it was just a month later that Andres was discovered.  He tried to protect Nadja but the government already knew everything.  I was devastated.  A few years later I found out Nadja was able to retreat back to her village and disappear into the chaos of the revolution.

But I never heard from Nadja again until last month.  My grandson signed me up for this new computer thing called Facebook.  And then a few weeks later a homemaker from Iowa named Nadia Mitchell sent me a note.  The moment I saw those eyes I knew it was her and when I read the note my heart leapt.

“My Darling Little Thomas how I have missed you.  Do you still remember our weekend together so many years ago….”

Ending scene:

An elderly Thomas walking to baggage claim, a sign above says Des Moins International Airport.


Thomas Hudson, Jr.                           A Young Antonio Bandaras
Nadja                                                  Jessica Alba
Gen. Juan Antonio de Salva              Raul Julia
Andres                                                 Andy Garcia
Thomas Hudson (father)                    Kris Kristofferson
Maria Hudson (mother)                     Rita Moreno

Sunday, July 22, 2012

Retro Summer - the Old Posts: Favorite AM Theatre - Where North Carolina Comes Close to the Stars

I think somewhere way back when I said I have a few story topics for novels that have been drifting around in my head for many years.  That being said I certainly never started this blog with fiction in mind.  I mean, the title of my blog said what this was all about so I wanted to be all about REALITY.

However, as time goes on you start checking out other blogs.  Eventually I found FFF.  Some other bloggers that I followed were doing it so I thought I might give it a try.  Finally a photo arrived on one of those Monday's and I dove in.  It was a blast.  I started doing it fairly regularly.

And then one of those weird stories hit my brain one night as I was on the stairmaster at the gym and looking at women's butts.  What would happen if we added Ashley Madison to one of those classic fairly tales.  Wouldn't that be fun!  So I did it (here) and it was fun.

That sort of got the creative juices flowing.  Then last fall a new story hit me.

It was one of those nights between Halloween and Thanksgiving; one of those nights when TNT is showing those awesome movies like the Lord of the Rings or Talledega Nights, etc.  Except this night they were showing Cold Mountain.  Now, I really didn't see a link between Ashley Madison and Cold Mountain.  I'm no IT guy but I don't think Al Gore had invented the internet back in Civil War times.  :)

As always the story did touch me.  If you have picked up on things the Carolinas hold a soft spot in my heart and that story is based in the Carolina mountains.  But I got to thinking that it would be great if someone did a sequel.  You know one of those "made for TV" cheesy Walton's Family Christmas Specials.  I started to think how that would go.  What if it was "ghostly" and Inman returned on Christmas Eve.  That could be hauntingly enchanting.  Then my inner geek remembered a TV show I once saw sometimes on those snow days of my youth, The Ghost and Mrs Muir.  I remembered a Christmas episode where the ghost in the show came to the family in their dreams as a present.

And so I had my tale.  Of course I have to admit sometimes when I write certain posts I have a certain someone in mind.  In a way I think I wrote this for a certain blogger I am fond of.  She did help me with some editing.

But in the end this story was really just a silly little tale and a present of sort to those unfortunate souls who happen upon my blog on a frequent basis.

Retro Summer (Favorite AM Theatre) - Where North Carolina Comes Close to the Stars
Originally posted December 25th, 2011

Merry Christmas!

And to my readers a haunting and sexy Christmas tale with characters shamelessly ripped off from that beautiful Civil War epic tale "Cold Mountain," meshed inelegantly with a theme stolen from a 1960's sitcom the Ghost and Mrs. Muir, and finally influenced by a Tony Rice song Carolina Star.  Who but a delightfully shallow fellow like myself could pull those together.

And before you go thinking that I'm blogging on Christmas Day, I wrote this 2 months ago and auto-posted.  I hope you're reading this on Dec. 26th!  :)

On a snowy night in the hills of Western North Carolina.....

Ada gazed out of the window onto the snowy moonlit mountain as she finished washing the last of the dinner plates.  In the background Georgia and Stobrod were finishing up a merry Christmas jig as Ruby and Grace danced in front of the fire.  But Ada was thinking about him.  It was often at these peaceful times she did think of him.  Farm days tend to be too busy to fret over who you miss.  But now she could see him, smell him, and imagine how he felt so long ago.

Suddenly a burst of wind pushed the window open in front of where she was working at her plates and a blackbird she had not seen before flapped quickly off the window seal.  She gasped and started to yell but her voice was muffled by the rush of the wind and a faint whisper she could barely hear.  But, she had distinctly heard "I am here for you" as the blustery wind brushed past her face.   She shook her head, was she crazy?  It did sound like him calling to her.  She did not linger on the thought and shut the window quickly forcing out the cold of the night.

Grace shuffled over to her, "what happened momma" she said.  "Oh nothin' darlin', just that old wind letting us know he's out there."

Grace then said "tell me a story about papa!"

"No darlin' not now" said Ada.  "It's time for bed and you better get ready or Santa is just goin' to fly right over this here mountain!  Go now and wash up and then we'll read a quick story, hurry now!"

Once Grace was ready for bed Ada read her "A Visit from St. Nicholas."  She had seen it many years ago in the newspaper and her dad had picked up a copy for her long ago in Charleston.  But as she read she couldn't help but imagine a Christmas with Inman.  She finished and Grace pressed her for another story but Ada insisted she turn out the lamp.  Just as she blew out the oil lamp she looked up and saw another blackbird at the window seal.  "My my" she thought, "what is a blackbird doing around these parts in this weather and at this time of year?"

She looked down at Grace's angelic face (still visable in the light of the moon).  As Grace fell into sleep she said "momma, do you think papa still loves us?"  "Yes" said Ada, "he is always with us, now good night and sweet dreams."  She kissed Grace on the forehead and then walked back to her room and took a seat next to her bed and began reading next to the flicker of her oil lamp.  She yawned and was tired but still felt restless from the wind, reading always calmed her soul.

Ada woke up with a jerk.  She thought she heard a sound and it felt like it was coming from outside of the kitchen.  She must have drifted off to sleep.  Was it that wind coming through the window again?  She walked to the kitchen and looked out of that same window above the sink and out onto the snowy night.  

And then she saw a shadowy figure approaching the house.  Her first impulse was to get the shotgun.  But the figure looked familiar.  She pulled on her shawl and went outside.  The figure got closer, she felt pulled toward it as if by a force she didn't know.  She was not but the length of a horse stall away when the figure, a man, finally looked up at her.

"Inman" she cried!  The figure smiled at her.  "Ada, it really is you; I have travelled so far to see you, do you recognize me under all this North Carolina clay" the figure said to her.  But she knew the figure was her Inman.

He walked up to her briskly.  As he got close she flung herself onto him.  They embraced and he pressed a kiss to her mouth.  It was freezing and yet with his warmth she was immediately on fire.  She had to pull back gasping.  Inman said "I'm sorry my love, what's wrong?"  Ada giggled with embarrassment and said "oh my Inman, you still take my breath away."

"Come inside dear," Ada said to him "you look half frozen and I don't think you have eaten in an age, let me get something together for you."

Inman said "don't worry my love I only hunger for you, I don't have long - I am here for you."  Ada was not sure what he meant but was sure he was crazy from cold and hunger.  She took him by the hand and led him inside.  "Do you need to sit by the fire a spell?"  Ada said.  "No my love, the others can't see me like this."  Ada was sorry that Inman was ashamed of his appearance, to her he was as dashing as ever.  "I could run a bath for you Inman if it pleases you but the cold air may catch you your death" Ada exclaimed.  Inman shook his head saying, "if my poor figure is not a fright to you, I only wish to be near you just now."  She led him down the hall to her room turning and saying "OK, my love you do look like you could use a warm soft bed and a good night's sleep."

Once inside her room, emotion took over.  She felt his chest with the tips of her fingers and her fingers instinctively moved inside his shirt.  She pulled off that shirt and brought him close and kissed him.  Ada couldn't pull him close enough, she longed to be at one with him.  She stepped back slightly and untied her nightshirt and it fell softly to her feet.  She stood before him naked but felt clothed by his presence.  She pushed the sheets aside and they laid down together.  He moved over to her kissing her.  The feel of him inside of her was hypnotic.  They moved together as one, lovers frantically wanting to pull themselves together as if simply touching was not enough.  Soon she cried out in delight, their passion melting them together.  

After, she just laid her chin on his chest moving her fingers through the curls of his hair and they stared into each other's eyes.  He gently stroked her hair.  Nothing was said, Ada only wanted to savor the moment as if knowing she needed to gather this picture in her mind to save it forever.

Ada yawned as Inman quietly said "good night my love."  They fell peacefully asleep in each other's arms.

The sunrise over the mountain woke her.  "Inman," she sighed, and she rolled over, but only her pillow was there.  "My gracious" she thought, "what time is it that the sun has beaten me up."  But soon, she heard the sound of little feet rapidly approaching.  Grace burst through the door.  "Momma, it's Christmas it's Christmas momma; get up, get up.  Oh, momma don't you know, I had the most wonderful dream of papa last night!  Come on momma, get up do you think Santa came to Cold Mountain last night?"

Soon Ada was awash in the sound and smells of Christmas morning.  To much was going on now to think about last night.  What had happened, was it Inman?  Was it a stranger?  She saw no sign of him and nobody was speaking of him or any stranger who had visited in the night.

The day passed quickly with Christmas supper cooking going on all day.  Georgia, Stobrod, and the children tended to the animals so that Ruby and Ada could stay in the kitchen.  The meal was delightful. Georgia had shot the last big fat turkey of the season and everyone enjoyed the big meal.  For all that had been lost over the years it was times like this that Ada realized all that was left to live for.  She sat back after dinner and enjoyed Georgia at the guitar and Stobrod at the fiddle while Grace whirled in circles about the room.  They stopped only to exchange gifts and then set back to dancing and singing.

Finally, Ada told Grace it was time for bed.  Grace protested "oh momma, just one more dance."  Stobrod chimed in and said, "Ada be a gem, it's Christmas."  As Grace glided across the room she stopped at a small object stuck behind the Christmas tree.  Grace exclaimed "momma, it's another present!"  "What is it, darlin'" Ada asked as Grace pulled the object out for all to see.  It was a blackbird marionette.  Grace, squealed with glee "it's a birdie, see" as she whirled around with her new-found toy.  Ruby leaned toward Ada and whispered "I don't remember makin' no blackbird doll for my Gracy, you reckon ole' Santie Clause really was here on Cold Mountain last night?"  Ada smiled and said "perhaps he was."

As Ada put Grace to sleep that night she asked her "so what was this dream all about, darlin'?"  "Oh momma, I dreamed papa finally came back from the war; he dressed up like Father Christmas and brought presents.  He said he couldn't stay long but wanted to let us know he loved us and that we were always on his mind.  Tell me about him, momma."

Staring out of the window Ada sighed and said "OK darlin', you know he was the handsomest man in all these Carolina hills and although he was quiet I could always tell what he was thinking.  And he knew what was going through my mind.  We didn't need words, we just knew."  Ada now looked down at Grace; she had drifted off to sleep clutching her blackbird, a gentle smile on her face.

"Good night darlin', momma loves you" Ada said to her sleeping daughter as she knelt down and stroked her red hair.

After everyone was in bed and asleep Ada once again put on her shawl and walked out into the moonlit night.

She looked up and caught the sight of a single blackbird flying south in the moon's light.  She sighed and said "good bye my love, thank you for coming to me one last time."

Take a listen to this beautiful ballad by Tony Rice, I believe it is my all-time favorite bluegrass song.

Thursday, July 19, 2012

Retro Summer - the Old Posts: Favorite Food Post - The Way You're Lookin' You Got Me Cookin'

I always say if at first you don't succeed try, try again!  This will be my 3rd time posting this post. It's my favorite food post and yet the first two times I posted it (back in March, 2011 and again during the summer of 2011) nobody ever commented.  I think it's because I violated that less is more standard I wrote about the other day.  People saw how long this post was and the fact that their probably wasn't any sex and they just gave up.  

Too bad, further down I have a great Cajun' joke, a good recipe for shrimp and grits, and a link to my favorite restaurant of all time.  But you have to read to the end.

Maybe this time somebody will at least tell me I don't know what the hell I'm talkin' about!

So somebody please, please comment - or I will likely be posting this again some time next summer when I take next year's break!   :)

Retro Summer (Favorite Food Post) - The Way You're Lookin' You Got Me Cookin'
Originally Posted March 7, 2011

Ayeee!  It Mardi Gras tomorrow!  Laissez les bons temps rouler!

A great little cajun’ ditty by George Strait above – “to be with my sweet Adalida, I’d swim the Pontchartrain!”

So speaking about Etoufee, with it being Mardi Gras tomorrow and since I can’t show you my tits  for beads out here in the blogosphere, I’ll just share some cajun’ culinary wisdom with you.  Actually, could I set up an HNT then you could pay me in beads through PayPal?  OK, so the Beaumont blood runs deep southern; in fact I picked this name because it sounded so Southern!  Oh you thought that was actually my real name, oops – forget I said that.  Anyway, I have cooked many a Cajun/creole meal so I have a lot to offer! In fact over the years I believe I have developed a specialty for Southern poor folk food.  Funny how poor folk food finds its way into haute cuisine J

*         Lesson 1:  almost all cajun’ and creole cuisine is based off of a stock flavored by either a Mire Poix (diced onions, carrots, celery) from French cuisine or a derivative and what folks on the Bayou call “The Holy Trinity” which is chopped onions, bell peppers, and celery in a 1:2:3 ratio.  The stock would additionally be flavored with any meat or seafood available and then added to rice, vegetables, etc. to create a gumbo or other dish such as red beans and rice.

*         Lesson 2:  Every good Mardi Gras party needs a King Cake.  A King Cake is decorated with the Mardi Gras colors of the festival of Epiphany (gold, purple, and green).  These colors represent the colors of gold, frankincense, and myrrh which were the gifts the 3 Wise Men gave Jesus (@ Epiphany). Of course Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday) is the celebration before the beginning of lent which begins on Ash Wednesday.  This is one final blow-out for Catholics to drink, party, screw, etc just before giving everything up over lent J  A token should be placed in every King Cake symbolizing the Baby Jesus.  Whoever gets the Baby Jesus in their slice is supposed to host the next Mardi Gras party according to lore!  FYI, if anyone wants to see me making a King Cake send me an e-mail and I will give you my AM pass-key, I have it in my private photos (sorry, that was shameful) J

            To make a King Cake take several tubes of Cinnamon roll dough and roll it out as thinly.  Then braid the tubes together (see picture).  Let the dough proof and then bake.  Spread a normal white icing over the top of the cake and sprinkle gold, purple, and green glitter over alternating sections of the cake/braid.

*         Lesson 3:  Blackening spice is a key ingredient in many cajun’ recipies.  It contains several spices but the predominant taste is from the mixture of peppers.  The peppers include white, black, and red (cayenne) pepper – more red if you like it hot!  Additionally add paprika, salt, onion powder, garlic powder, thyme, and oregano.  The spice blend will have a rust color but will turn black on the entrée you add it to once cooked.  Generally you would want to apply the mixture to a thin piece of fish or well pounded chicken so that you can cook at a higher temperature (less time) with the high heat giving the spice blend a crusty texture without overcooking the meat.

*         Lesson 4:  What is the difference between Cajun’ and Creole.  I read once the difference is “nothing and everything!”  Cajun’ is a slurred name for the French Canadians (Acadians) that moved to Louisiana from the Canadian Maritime Provinces.  Creole is derived from a Spanish term and tends to mean “native to the colony” so it represents the melting pot of cultures that developed along the Gulf Coast including French, Spanish, Native American, African American, the West Indies, Central, and South America.  Hence, Creole cuisine is a wonderful blend of the French, Spanish, African, and Native American cuisines.  For example, the spices and the “holy trinity” are derivatives of European cuisine, the seafood was local, and many vegetables such as okra were brought to the New World from Africa.  Cajuns’ tend to live in the county while Creole culture is more cosmopolitan.  Btw, I watched “Interview with A Vampire” last night; Le Stat samples some great Creole ladies in that movie!

*         Lesson 5:  Differences between Etouffe, Gumbo, and Jambalaya
Gumbo has a thick soup/chowder consistency from its base or roux (flour & butter) and is then flavored with stock (w/mire poix), vegetables (usually including okra), and any available meat.  Jambalaya is simply a flavored or “dirty rice” and again using whatever meat is available (sausage, seafood, etc) and perhaps a light stock.  Etouffe means smothered and is basically a stew usually including seafood (shrimp or crawfish) and served over rice.  The more popular Creole style Etouffe adds tomatoes giving it the distinctive red color.

*         Lesson 6:  Let’s Cook – An easy Shrimp n’ Grits (serves 4 to 6)

For the Grits:  8 cups of water, 3 cups of stone ground grits, 1 stick unsalted butter, salt & pepper to taste
For the Sauce:  2 tbs vegetable oil, 1½ # andouille sausage, 1 cup diced bacon, 1½ # (21/25 ct) shrimp (pdv, peeled/deveinied), ½ cup chopped/peeled tomatoes, ¼ cup each of finely sliced scallions and green peppers, 4 tsp minced garlic, 4 tsp Cajun-style blackening spice (see above), 1 cup salt free chicken stock, 4 tbs butter, salt & pepper to taste

For Grits:   Bring water to rolling boil and turn down heat, gently wisk in grits.  Keep grits at a simmer.  Add salt, pepper, and butter when grits are completely immersed but before thick.  Keep on simmer until grits are thick and keep on low heat until shrimp and sauce ready to serve.
For Sauce:  Heat oil on high in sauté pan on stove top burner.  Once oil is sizzling, add bacon and sausage and cook until brown and caramelized.  Reduce heat to medium and add shrimp, tomatoes, scallions, peppers, and garlic.  Once ingredients blended completely stir in Cajun blackening spices.  Next, pour in chicken stock and cook for 1 minute.  Add butter and melt into mixture.  Add salt & pepper to taste.

Serve Shrimp over grits and put a Beausoleil CD on!

Note:      I have to admit this recipe actually comes from a CharlestonSC cookbook but it is good.  Btw, Carolina Low-Country is probably my other favorite cuisine, though very similar to Creole.  I’ll put out some Gullah cuisine at a later date.

I hope I don’t offend anyone here but I can’t help leaving before telling a cajun’ joke, so here goes:
  • Boudreaux was lying on his death bed. The doctor had already told him that he surely wouldn't live another week. Suddenly, and much to Boudreaux's glee, a wonderful aroma hit Boudreaux like a Gulf Coast Hurricane. He knew that the smell meant one thing - his wife had jes’ made her uh pot of gumbo. Boudreaux wanted a bowl sooo bad, but he was no longer able to walk, so he crawlt’ himself out of bed and into the kitchen. Just as Boudreaux was reaching for the pot, his wife barked out, "Boudreaux! Shame on you! You know ‘dat gumbo is going to be for the funeral."  Ayee!
And let me give a shout out to my favorite restaurant of all time.  If you are ever on the Mississippi Gulf Coast go to Mary Mahoney’s Old French House Restaurant, you’ll never forget it – especially if you meet the owner, Bobby.

And Happy Mardi Gras!

Monday, July 16, 2012

Retro Summer - the Old Posts: Favorite New Sex - There She Goes Again, Racing Through My Brain

I guess there is no memory like the first time.  Of course this was not where I lost my virginity sexually but I did lose it from a fidelity standpoint.  I signed onto Ashley Madison in early April, 2011.  Over the next two months I had done a lot of research, written to a lot of women, honed my written skills, finally met someone, and now was in route to my first hotel encounter.  And yes we did have sex and oh how good it felt!

My time with Alecia was brief.  I would only meet her one more time but what an education it would be.

At the time of this momentous event in early late May, 2011 my blog was still six months away.  But when I got to writing about my encounter with Alecia I got another first.  That would be writing about sex.  Writing about this event was probably more scary than the actual act.  In the hotel room I was too horny to be nervous.  But I doubt literally that I had ever actually written out the word "fuck" on the computer in my entire life.  I'd said it a few times but never written it.  I know that sounds odd but for many of you, you understand how odd it is the first time you start writing your thoughts out about having sex.  We think about it all the time but actually sitting down and writing about it; well that ends up being something totally different.

So saying that this post is my favorite sex post is tribute to those two firsts, having sex with another woman and writing about it.  Oh and I guess it's also about having sex again as it had been a really, really, reaallllyyyy longggggg time since I had had sex prior to this day.

I've gone back in forth on how I feel about Alecia.  Happy because she was so hot and very good in bed. Angry because she never called back and just faded away.  Relieved because she is probably a little like Shannon in that she did not communicate feeling well and I felt tended to play games or say one thing but was looking for something else.

But I am horrible with closure and I always wanted to reach out to her one more time and at least talk it out so to speak.  I always wondered what I'd say if I met her again.  I always wondered if a path my lead us together again some day.  I wondered if life occurrences would lead me to want that.  I wondered.

Retro Summer (Favorite New Sex) - There She Goes Again, Racing Through My Brain
Originally posted January 7, 2011

I heard that song last night by the La’s on XM Radio First Wave last night and thought it would fit here.  But I am lost for musical commentary today.  Although I was sad to read that Jerry Rafferty (Baker Street) died earlier this week.

So for our second date I plan on taking Alecia to this great spot about 30 minutes south of where I live.  It is a quaint old country store that has been refurbished to be a gourmet wine and cheese shop and they also make great soup, sandwiches, quiches, etc as well as coffee and bakery items.  And the store is located across the street from a historic mill and there is a beautiful picnic area adjacent to a bubbling stream – very romantic, I am proud of myself.  Alecia has not heard of the place so I send her a link and she says it looks interesting.  I am excited and eager.

On the morning of the day we are to meet I get an e-mail from Alecia.

“husband is out of town and I don’t want to be too far away from kids in case anything happens… can we meet somewhere here where we can have some privacy… there are some hotels close by”

Note:  this spot is about 30 minutes away from me but would be an hour for Alecia

Wow!  Alecia never ceases to amaze me and take my breath away.  I google hotels in ****ville (her town) and pick something I think will be discrete.  Alecia says the location is fine.

So I call and make a reservation.  Then I learn that the local Shariotte Resort and Comfort Suites doesn’t accept credit cards with zip codes within a 50 mile radius.  What gives, how is a guy supposed to pull off an affair with these types of rules?  OK, so I lie and say it is a business card and my regional office is local but I live in Outer Mongolia and give them another address and that works.  So I have a reservation with an early check in and Alecia says she will meet me around 2 pm.  She says call her when I check in.

I drive over not really sure of what to think, it certainly was the longest 20 minute drive of my life.  And of course I am thinking it has been awhile, I hope I don’t embarrass myself.  I check in and call Alecia; she says she will be right over.  So I brush my teeth, make sure I look OK, and just try to relax.  She calls me about 20 minutes later and says she is pulling into the parking lot.  I see her car and go out to meet her.

God she looks so great!  I said she looks a bit like Pink (the singer) for anyone a bit older I would say she also looks a bit like Stevie Nicks, at any rate she is beautiful, cool, and confident.

OK, so I diverted.

So we go into the room.  She sits on a chair between the window and bed crossed legged and facing me, I am on the edge of the bed.  We spend a few minutes with small talk about the day, etc.  Then as always Alecia asks those penetrating though obvious questions “so do you think we will have sex?”  Hmm, well I kind of expect it at this point – I am not sure what guy wouldn’t under the circumstances but I am sure you should never assume (remembering that when you ASSUME you make and ASS out of U and ME).  So I say given where we left things on Tuesday and what we were doing today I was certainly hopeful and btw way “you look fantastic.”  Not sure if it was a test but I guess I didn’t fail.  Alecia says “let’s order pizza, you have to feed me before we have sex.”  So we order a delivery and talk while we wait.  Among other things she seems to be intrigued on whether Shannon is still having an affair with her boss.

Pizza comes and when I walk back in Alecia is sitting on her knees on the bed.  I walk up to her facing her about a foot apart at the edge the bed and place the pizza down on the bed.  She looks at me with those sexy dark brown eyes and then at the pizza and then at me again.  She says “sex or pizza?”

Thankfully, she ends the drama by leaning forward and kissing me passionately.  She pushes her tongue to mine, she is a great kisser!  I kiss my way across her cheek and down to her long beautiful neck and then back to her mouth.  She finally leans back slowly and lies down on the bed and lifts her legs up to me.  I move my head down to her with her legs around my shoulders.  I slowly unbutton her pants and then stand up as I remove her skinny jeans.  She has a beautiful black thong underneath.  I slowly kiss the inside of her legs as I move back down to her.  I kiss her belly and then run the back of my tongue down one of my favorite female areas that beautiful gentle soft valley just inside the hips and thighs that leads from the torso down to between the legs.  I slowly pull back her thong.  I lean back to pull her thong off and then kiss my way back down her legs and to her belly button as I slowly move my thumb first around and then into her and begin rubbing her clit.  She groans with pleasure.  I then move my fingers deeply into her rubbing inside and along the pubic bone.  Soon she says “you’re hitting all the right places.”  I then take my fingers out and put my tougue around and then into her.  After about a minute she orgasms.

She looks up at me and says “are you sure it has been 3 years for you, you’re not playing me are you.”  Unfortunately I am not, it has really been even longer than 3 years but I am embarrassed to admit that.  Alecia leans up and unbuttons my shirt and pants.  I stand up and disrobe.  Alecia slides back on the bed and I crawl next to her and we begin kissing.  I role slightly over her so I am rubbing just outside of her.  She is again sighing and says she is going to come again.  At this point she is so wet that I slide easily into her.  She wraps her legs around my hips and starts grinding into me.

I enjoy many positions but I have to say the good ole’ missionary is the best for me.  For me it’s not simply the act of penetration.  I get knocked out by that total melting of bodies together.  For me the feeling of stomachs and particularly the pelvis pressed against one another is what drives me.  And for the next 30 minutes + we are certainly melting into one another. 

That being said she did get on top of me.  She looked fantastic; Alecia has a spectacular body and is very athletic looking with great abs.  She had a very intense orgasm that I could definitely feel.

I did have to slow down a bit because I start to sweat.  And, oh wait – I was worried that I wouldn’t last 5 minutes and we are now into 30 minutes and I think Alecia is ready for a break, that second orgasm happened several minutes ago.  Now I realize that I have built this up so much in my head that premature ejaculation is not going to be the problem; in fact quite the opposite I am going to really have to concentrate on coming L

Finally after much concentration I was able to but Alecia could tell it was a bit of a challenge and I think it hurt her feelings.  At any rate our bodies are so soaked in sweat that we are slipping off each other; Alecia giggles and says “we smell like sex.”

After that we ate pizza and just chatted.  The time went by and I actually enjoyed it as much as the sex.  We cuddled in bed and actually dozed off for a while.  I think Alecia has a fairly hectic life with her career and her kids and I don’t think her husband helps much.  I know she really just enjoyed cuddling and I think she was exhausted.  We finally woke up and had a quickie before we both had to leave.  As good as Alecia looked on top and under she looked even better from behind – Wow what a body!

So we walk out together and Alecia goes her way and I go mine.  She does call me on the way home and asks “how do you feel, are you OK…. Are you smiling?”  Yes I was smiling!

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Retro Summer - the Old Posts: Favorite Shannon Story - It's Not as Though I Really Need You

I am a firm believer that less is most often better than more.  I remember a college technical writing class where the professor constantly drove us to distill our writing to as few words possible while yielding the most information.  I get that with Shannon around the spoken word.  So often she really doesn't want to listen to anything I have to say so I have to get my message across in about 5 seconds or it's never going to get received.  Blogging is kind of the antithesis where you are looking to work out your thoughts on paper so to speak.  Anyway, I kind of hate to be a perpetuator of written diarrhea so I always attempt to have an economy of language in my posts.  I always remember Jeff Goldblume's statement in the Big Chill where as a writer in People Magazine he tries to confine the length of his articles to within the average human visit to the toilet.

Often as I look back to my old posts I think they are way too long, I could have gotten the message across in half the time.  I think my final "Shannon's Story" was my best because it was so brief and yet I think it communicated the satisfaction she must have felt as she approached this career pinnacle.

I wrote the first Shannon story on a lark.  It was a way to get the story out there so that the person I was referring to in my other posts was not a two-dimensional caricature.

I was floored by the response.  I didn't know what to think as I got more comments than my posts about my AM Adventures.  Of course the comments fed my ego and drove me to continue writing.  It was in a way cathartic as I went back over the events of the last few years.  At times it made me angry but helped me understand.  But in the end I found myself cheering for Shannon even though I was writing the story and knew the end.  I began to feel proud and satisfied and empowered for her as the story culminated with this final entry.  I have to admit I got a little misty eyed as I finished.

Retro Summer (Favorite Shannon's Story) - It's Not as Though I Really Need You
Originally posted Sunday, October 16, 2011

Shannon’s Story – Part XIV

Part XIV of a series written from my wife’s perception of our life together.  Part I of Shannon's story is here.

Shannon speaking......
All of my life I have depended on men.  Up until graduating from college my dad took care of most of my needs changing oil in the car, paying for insurance, even bailing me out of a bad lease in an apartment once.  I got married at 24 so in some sense I moved away from my dad and over to Ryan's care. 

Over the past few years my career had really taken off.  But to a large extent my world revolved around two axis, that of Ryan's and that of Brent's.  As you found out in my last entry I was moving outside of Brent's world emotionally and perhaps physically if Ryan and I purchased the business we were looking for.

But as I drove down the highway to see family I was still very much under the sphere of influence of the men who had dominated my life for many years.

But in my life I have gotten accustomed to events changing rapidly.

The call from Mr. V, the company CEO, didn't alarm me at first - perhaps he needed help putting together a client dinner for some conference coming up.  His tone was, as always, pleasant and professional as he went through the normal pleasantries of how I was doing and what I was doing over the holidays.

And then life turned again in a moment.  The funny thing is it took me about 30 minutes and about 45 miles of driving to comprehend what was said.

The dialogue went something like this:

Mr. V:  "Shannon, Laura (current VP of Marketing) has just informed us that she is taking an opportunity outside of the company.  Now, we will start a national search for the position as soon as possible.  However, we have many vital projects currently out in the field that must move forward.  I know you are familiar with many of those projects as you have been working with Laura on many initiatives.  In order to keep our positive momentum I would like to see you step into Laura's role on an interim basis.  You are always very thorough on anything you do and I know you can navigate the politics of the position - I have complete faith in your ability to succeed."

I think my cryptic response was "sure Mr. V, I am glad to help in any way possible, you can count on me." 

But over the next hour and 75+ miles (yes I drive fast) I realized that Mr. V was asking me to be the VP of Marketing for a billion $ company.  Me, the girl with a BS in Art History from a small liberal arts college.  The girl that would have been happy being a mom and volunteering at school.  The girl that had married Ryan because he was going to be the VP.

Yes, I was excited about the challenge.  But, I felt a sense of liberty that I didn't realize existed.  The girls were asleep in the back of the car and REM was playing on the radio.

"It's not as though I really need you
If you were here I'd only bleed you
But everybody else in town only wants to bring you down and
That's not how it ought to be
Well I know it might sound strange, but I believe
You'll be coming back before too long

Don't go back to Rockville, don't go back to Rockville, don't go back to Rockville
And waste another year"

This was my time now, no time to waste.

Please check out this YouTube clip, they look so young.  And I love the accentuated southern accent!