Russell Gayer, author speaker
Since getting rid of satellite TV, we’ve been watching a lot of cooking shows on PBS. These folks cook everything from mouth-watering steak to three-layer apple pies. I swear I’ve gained six pounds without lifting a fork.
This morning, I got an idea for a new cooking show starring prison inmate Benny Caruthers. It’s called ‘Benny the Meth Chef.’ He’s traveled extensively throughout the South in search of the lowest quality ingredients, and always managed to stay one step ahead of the competition. “Judges in five states rave about my cooking,” brags Benny.
If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, the girl wearing the Birthday Hat this week and playing Pin the Tale on the Photo is Molly Jones Wisoff-Fields. If you’d like to participate in this exercise of madness, head over to her blog for step-by-step instructions. To view the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.
“What’s that smell?”
“Something’s burning in 302. A couple of Boomers live there.”
“Boomers? I’ve heard of them.”
“Yeah, their generation caused quite a stir back in the day. They held sit-ins and claimed to be about peace, love, and all that jazz. The young men burned draft cards, women burned their bras, and they burned a whole lot of grass. Now, they’re mostly gray-headed or bald, losing their vision and hearing. Listen to that music. It’s the Beatles.”
“What do you think they’re burning today?”
“Smells like cake. One of them is probably having a birthday.”
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This is the blog of a woman who is seriously on the edge and I mean right ON the edge…no, not there… just a little bit further… further than that…no, further still…just a tiny bit more… just move slightly to the right a little…no, that’s too much…just move a tad to the left…that’s right, just there…now you’ve moved too far to the left… Damn, what part of the ‘on the edge’ do you not understand? Oh, and her matricidal boy genius, come devil spawn.
Or the three people I guilted into reading this blog, whatever.
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Dear Cheech,
What else would be playing but the Beatles? I’ll bet some of those guys wish they still had their draft cards, they’d be collectors’ items now. I love this Booming story and have but one more things to say, “Obla di obla dah, life goes on…”
Shalom from the market place,
Molly Jones
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Dear Molly,
How’s Desmond (a.k.a. – Jan)? I faintly remember going up to the draft office and registering. It was rather smoky in the car that day and I don’t know whatever became of that darned card. There was a short, burly woman working the desk. She reminded me of one of the mean German women you would see in a WWII movie. I was scared straight.
Cheech
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You boomers are a bunch of youngsters compared with my generation. I’m about the same age as the remaining Beatles. Funny story, Russell. I’m wondering if you burned your draft card, etc. 😀 — Suzanne
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We really did change the world. I need to look for that draft card. I may still have it someplace.
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Aging hippies are good to see. Should be Jethro Tull though.
Good piece Russell.
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I loved Jethro Tull too, although Cream was my favorite.
However, the Birthday Girl is a big Beatles fan and I wrote this in her honor.
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Who needs cake? All you need is love, especially if you’re sexy Sadie. To shock the Xers, I’d play Number 9 on loop though. 😀
(Ahem, good story!)
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Right you are, All we need is love. 🙂 The number 9 loop is a great idea.
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I forgot to remind you: she came in through the bathroom window… (somebody stop me 😉 )
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Be careful. You may start a Revolution.
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Janis! No doubt!
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Is that a tie-dye gravatar, Patrick? You wear it well.
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Bunch of no-good kids, I say. Probably left out their hearing aids and didn’t hear the oven timer buzz. I wonder what this generation will be like when they get older. They’ll probably be playing video games in their wheelchairs.
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They may grow old, but they’ll never grow up. Still laughing at the same crude, adolescent jokes about farts.
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🙂
janet
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What a pretty smile, Janet. Thanks for stopping by. Tell Bill I said, “Hi”
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“Smells like cake.” LOL Oh, that hits too close to home. Enjoyed reminiscing with the “in” crowd.
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We’re on the move, in the groove, and what’s happening, Patti. It’s a little more challenging with a walker, but you don’t hear us complaining.
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One year my brother got my sister a fire extinguisher on her birthday, Russell. It’s a nice accompaniment to a Boomer’s cake. At this point in time, it’s more if a requirement when my sister celebrates her natal date.
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I suppose your brother will make arrangements to have the fire department on stand-by at future birthdays. A good training exercise for rookie fire fighters I suppose.
She lives on the west coast, right? Now we know what started those wildfires.
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You like to live dangerously Russell. To link Rochelle and burned cakes in the same 100 word piece is either madness or a suicide wish. 🙂
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Let’s just play it safe and go with 16 candles, shall we?
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Too late, Cheech. You’ve already roasted your goose.
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Okay, here’s what is really happening.
RiverMoonStar Wisoff-MeadowfullofFlowers is getting ready for a big date with a strange little chap with funny eyes.
If only his writing was as comical as his face, she muses.
She is so lost in dreams of a large Pink Pachyderm from another planet, she inadvertently sets her head aflame with her curling tongs.
And they all live happily ever after.
The End.
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Now, that’s a true 60s flower child name.
They make a fine couple in their tie-dye outfits, sandals, and peace-sign sunglasses. I could them both sitting around singing “Lucy in the Sky” if only I had my hearing aid ins.
Hilarious comment, C E. I almost fell out of my chair laughing.
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As another 60s icon famously said, albeit in the 70s, ‘You’re going to reap just what you sow’.
Glad you enjoyed, Russell.
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Actually, I never used curling tongs. I used a clothes iron to try to straighten those blasted curls.
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Funny, nice take on the prompt.
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Thanks, Sheila. The prompt was a perfect fit for a birthday story.
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Lovely , funny birthday story that also managed to bring back memories of those wonderful days. Good one.
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They might not be “the good old days,” but we had fun at the time.
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This is funny. My grandmother’s name was Molly Jones. Seriously.
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That’s cool. It must be nice to have your name in a song. No one ever sings about Russell, but I have heard Honie mentioned in a few.
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Too funny! This is a good one Russell. perhaps because I can relate so well.
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We were right there, weren’t we, Dawn. Pass the bong, will ya?
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Hehehe
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Ha, love it! What a great tribute to Molly Jones. She so loves the Beatles, too! It’s perfect. I want to tell you that in my first draft of my story I used apartment 302, too! It’s not in there anymore, but it was. 🙂 Ooh, that’s creepy, Russell!
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I can see how the possibility of your brain waves being on the same frequency as mind would be frightening to you. Sometimes I scare myself.
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Oh, me too Russell!! Scaring myself has become a hobby of mine. 🙂
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Boomers are cool!
Great birthday story for the wonderful RWF. Up to your usual high standard, loved it Russ.
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I’m rather fond of Boomers myself, Dee. Would you like some cake?
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Definitely, 🍰
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A crime against cakes, that’s what that is. It oughta be illegal.
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Watch out, she’s got a knife. Oh no! She’s cutting the cake. The icing is clinging to the blade. I can’t look any more. It’s, it’s, . . . criminal.
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This boomer enjoyed your story very much.
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Thank you, Margaret. Too bad I didn’t have some ice cream to serve with it.
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Well, Russell – I am of that era and I’m completely Beatled out. Not one of their CDs on my shelves. Elvis, yes, and I can cook without burning it – usually. Watch where your ageist assumptions take you – the Oldies Are Watching You!
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I wasn’t locked into Beatlemania either, more of a Rolling Stones fan. However, they did produce some songs and had a huge impact on generations to come. I can cook without burning too and like to use a lot of spices–except in cake. I’m glad the Oldies are watching (and reading) me. 🙂
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How the mighty have fallen – from draft cards, bras and pot to birthday cakes 🙂 Fun story!
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Well, I may not have burned my draft card but I burned the equivalent of my draft card and many, many bras under option No. 3. All of which may explain why the burning smell of my birthday cake is something I’m rather used to, despite the fact that the cake is one of the major contributors today to global warming. I’ll cut you a slice once it stops blazing.
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Somehow I thought you’d be baking brownies with a gritty substance inside. You know, the high in fiber variety.
I can’t believe they didn’t cast you as Corporal Klinger in MASH.
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If it is just the two of them in that apartment they are probably burning matches 🙂
Two of us sending postcards
Writing letters on my wall
You and me burning matches
Lifting latches on our way back home
We’re on our way home
We’re on our way home
We’re going home
http://www.metrolyrics.com/two-of-us-lyrics-beatles.html
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Love it. That burning cake line had me chuckling 🙂
Nice work.
KT
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