The Squirt and the Whale (FF)

 © C.E.Ayr

Philadelphia has long been recognized as a model city in the development of urban wall murals.  All throughout the town, walls that were formerly significant contributors to urban blight have been transformed into colorful and imaginative displays of public art

There are depictions of nature scenes, historical events, and great Philadelphia figures like the city's founder William Penn, Renaissance man Benjamin Franklin, and comedian Joey Bishop. 

Sometimes murals become faded, defaced, or outdated and need to be repaired or even totally repainted. In North Philadelphia this week such a replacement was required.  An existing mural was painted over with a breathtakingly beautiful rendition of a sperm whale shooting a huge spray from its blowhole. 

Most everyone agreed it was a very appropriate mural to paint over the existing one of Bill Cosby.

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In case you didn't know, the title of this piece is a reference to the movie "The Squid and the Whale," an interesting depiction of Boomer divorce directed by Noah Baumbach.  Which has nothing to do with Bill Cosby, but who wants to have anything to do with him anyway? 

I want to state it now, loud and clear: I always liked Robert Culp best. Now if you click on Mr. Culp's name, you'll be transported to the interpretations of the other Friday Fictioneers of the picture prompt above.  And if you're not already one of the Fictioneers, you should consider joining.

Why? Just 'cos.

You Can't Go Home Again or It's Always Smokey in Philadelphia

"By the way," I was telling my son Brandon over the phone yesterday, "Philadelphia is about to decriminalize marijuana. Gonna just be a fine." 

Brandon goes to college in nearby Baltimore.

"Wow, Dad, that's terrific!"  he said.

"Well,  yes, it's a good thing," I replied in measured tones.  "Years ago, I might have been very pleased, but in this day and age ..."

"You know, Dad," said Brandon,  "I've been thinking of coming home for a visit soon."

"Oh, no, no, there's no need for that!  You ... uh ...  have your classes and homework to attend to."

"Sure, but I've got all that pretty much under control.  I'd like to come see you."

"I look exactly the same.  A month or two older."

"Yes, but I miss everybody in Philadelphia.  I have a lot of friends in college there I'd like to visit."

"They're all busy!  Many of them have moved.  I'm afraid, Brandon,  some don't even like you anymore."

"Hey, Dad, what's this all about?  You think I want to come home to do drugs?"

"Of course not!   It's just that your life is in Baltimore now.  Baltimore Maryland.  Where nothing's decriminalized."

"You've told me you did more than your share of weed back in the day." 

"You don't want to turn out like me!"

"Come on, Dad, you have your flaws, but you didn't turn out all that bad."

"Are you kidding?  I have demons!  DEMONS!"  

"Well, I'll certainly come home for the Jewish holidays."

"Umm,  I forgot to tell you.  I'm converting.  Love that Jesus!"

"What about Thanksgiving?"

"I'd hold off 'til Christmas. Maybe President's Day."  

"May I ever come home, Dad?"

"Sure."

"When's that?"

"Whenever they decriminalize marijuana in Baltimore!"

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For Whom The Bell Tolls

In every age throughout recorded history, the ringing of a bell has been synonymous with the beginnings of something new and exciting but untested. Perhaps the most dramatic instance of such was the ringing of the Liberty Bell in Philadelphia PA on July 4, 1776 to herald the birth of a new nation.

No one knew what the future held for the fledgling enterprise. Whether it would survive and meet with success or die a quick and ignominious death was unknown and unfathomable.   Only time and the judgment of history would tell.

On February 17, 2014, the Comcast Bell, also in Philadelphia PA, rang to herald the birth of The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon.

Only time and the judgment of history will tell.

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Jimmy Fallon?   Amiable, good-looking, and young.   Funny?   I'm not so sure, but time and the judgment of all of us will tell.   

One thing is for sure though:  The Friday Fictioneers are amiable, good-looking, and young (well, some of them anyway) and are ready to ring your chimes if you click here. Some of them are even funny, like Russell  --- and maybe from time to time, even a little bit me. 

For whom the bell tolls?  Me.  I'm outta here!

Cold Snap!

Lately we've had a cold snap in the Philadelphia area, and yesterday it was so cold I actually saw a guy warming himself next to a Republican's heart.  I asked my son Brandon what had happened to global warming.

"Dad," said Brandon, "climate change doesn't mean it's never gonna be cold." 

"But I was banking on global warming to get me through a few more winters til I can retire someplace warm!"

"Someplace warm, Dad? You don't strike me as the Miami Beach type."

"No, I mean retire to Canada where I can get free health care.  I'm really banking on global warming!' 

Whether your local weatherperson calls it the Arctic Express, a Wintry Blast, or the Deep Freeze, temperatures hitting subterranean digits are Nature's way of telling us what a bunch of pansy asses we are compared to those who came before. Throughout history, people have lived through all kinds of weather in caves, tents, wigwams, igloos, and fecal-filled huts and hovels of every kind and description. 

Today, we nudge the thermostat up to 75 degrees because dang it, "our feet are just so darn tingly!"

Go outside?  Nah, what's the point?  Get the newspaper on the curb?  That's what the news babes on CNN are for!   Run to Super Fresh?  No, I've got a couple slices of kinda stale bread, half a can of Coke, and some peanut butter in the living room somewhere;  I'm good!

Comes the time when you absolutely positively must go outside and it's time to dress in layers. Time to put your long johns, undershirt,  turtleneck, sweater,  second sweater, two pairs of thick socks,  third sweater, additional pair of thick socks, hat and coat, and hat and coat, and woolen gloves your obsessive-compulsive aunt knitted you in the Sixties, and hat and coat.

Once you are finally finished wrapping and preparing yourself, you are at a loss to determine which of all of these layers about you represents your actual body. Why is itchy merino wool encasing my internal organs instead of skin? Why is there a zipper where my penis ought to be?

However, the careful preparation pays off handsomely.  Once outside,  it is so cold you can not only see your breath in front of your face, you can actually see it shivering!   But you, my friend, are toasty warm  during that arduous four and one-half second trot to the car and the turning on of the heat at full-blast.

Then you can begin removing the layers, one by one.

I guess maybe an occasional cold snap isn't such a bad thing.  It puts us in touch with what our forebears once endured and how truly privileged we are.  And maybe it also shows that global warming isn't quite as far along as we thought?

That would be great news for the planet, but not for me.  I was all set for Montreal, but I don't have a single white belt for Miami Beach.  

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And Now For Something Completely Different

Nice, but it ain't no Rocky ...

And Now For Something Completely Different ...

Every Friday the talented writer Madison Woods posts a writing prompt upon which many writers base their own individual 100 words or less stories.  All these stories are posted,  and folks across the internet get the opportunity to read how other peoples' interpretations of the very same prompt are so much better and more creative than their own.

At least,  I think that's the point. 

Anyway, today's prompt is up above,  and I made up the story below.  To be honest, it is actually 106 words long so I expect to be disqualified and yelled at by Madison. 

So if you should comment, be kind!

Of the Statues in Philly

“I see an angel in despair over the state of mankind,” said Brandon. “What do you see, Dad?”

“Well, it looks to me more like an angel about to throw up.  Probably after a big night of partying.”

“What about three wings?  I perceive it as the artist’s way of dramatizing the angel’s anguish.”

“Nah, it’s to show how whacked the angel is.  He’s not seeing double, he’s seeing one and a half!”

 “It’s cool how art is subject to multiple interpretations and responses,” said Bran.

“And I hope your response, kid, will be to help repair the world.  Mine, after I drop you off? Getting me a drink!”

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Guess I Didn't Deserve the Phillies ....

One man!  Just one man!

The Philadelphia Phillies, the best team in baseball throughout the 2011 baseball season, have fallen to the St. Louis Cardinals by a score of 1-0 in the fifth and deciding game of the National League Division Series (NLDS) between the two teams.

The loss places the Phils out of contention for the World Series ring that had seemed so within reach just a few weeks ago and plunges the entire City of Philadelphia into darkness!

Throughout the City and indeed the entire nation, virtually everyone knows who is responsible for this shocking upset.  It is one man alone, a man named:

Perry Block!

A resident of the Philadelphia area and a  self-professed Phillies fan, Mr. Block himself had earlier questioned whether he, a born loser, was worthy enough to be a fan of the Mighty Phillies.  The resounding answer:

NO!!!

"I'm flabberghasted!" said Phils' Manager Charlie Manuel. "How can one man --- one solitary Phillies fan --- be so totally unworthy as to sink an entire baseball team?!"

"You'd think Fate would have erred in favor of benefitting the undeserving loser rather than punishing an entire team and City," said Phils' ace Roy Halladay, who was charged with the loss. "I guess Fortune works in strange ways." 

The City of Philadelphia is poised to file legal action against Mr. Block as soon as a reasonable cause of action can be determined.

"Oh, we'll get him!" vowed  a visibly shaken but determined Mayor Michael Nutter, "We'll get him!   Our best attorneys are researching guilt, bad karma, and annoying shlemiel as we speak!" 

For his part, Mr. Block was in seclusion and offered no comment.

An acquaintance of Mr. Block who spoke on condition of anonymity and that we print that he is a remote acquaintance of Mr. Block who doesn't even really like the guy said "Well, how do you think he'd feel after all this?"

"My guess is that he feels one tiny little bit even less worthy than ever before..."

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It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia .... with Cecily

 Oh, yeah! Barometric pressure's rising again!

When it comes to the latest news, I’m not the sharpest tool in the non-Jewish man’s tool shed.

I think the President’s Energy Plan concerns the number of push-ups Obama plans to do each morning, a birther's a guy sleeping overnight on the Broadway Limited from New York to Chicago in 1937, and Ghaddafi is the latest cartoon duck from the folks at Looney Tunes.

But when it comes to the weather in Philadelphia’s Delaware Valley, from the spritzing we’ll be getting tomorrow about noon to the cumulonimbus clouds overhead Sunday at 3:00, I can cite you chapter and verse.

 But it ain’t the Doppler that grabs my attention. It’s the dame!

Cecily Tynan has been the reigning queen of Philadelphia weather almost since the day she arrived at WPVI Channel 6 in 1995. Easily as knocked out as the hottest Hollywood super babe, Cecily surpasses each and every one of them in her ability to dress you right for the weather tomorrow and up to 5 days thereafter. Along with Tastykake, Cecily Tynan is the very best reason for any male from the age of puberty on up to move to Philadelphia.  

(And frankly since I'll bet CecilyTynan has a "creamy filling" to beat anything the venerable Philly cake and pie baker has to offer, Cecily is the very best reason for any male from the age of puberty on up to move to Philadelphia.)

How to describe to you Philly’s meteorological hot mama?

The picture above does her no justice, at least from points on the human weather map north of the neck. With near flawless features and a dazzling smile, strawberry blondish Ms. Tynan is nothing less than the physical embodiment of that perfect day in late spring where your children are happily frolicking with their friends, you’re playing Frisbee in the park with your dog, and yesterday

 You Won the PA Lottery!

 Nightly, about 11:15, Cecily invades my TV screen.

“Jim, it’s going to be hot,” she pronounces, following the lead-in from venerable Philadelphia Action News anchorperson Jim Gardner.

“Sweltering …. broiling …. steaming hot!”

With Cecily, my temperature and barometric pressure are always rising.

Were I not this age, they’d have company!

Ironically women love Cecily almost as much as we guys do. Possessed of a face and form that synchronizes magically with any old thing she might throw on, producers at Channel 6 have wisely dressed Cecily in a daily variety of designer duds that sends women desperately seeking Cecily right along with their men:

 She: Oh, my God! Doesn’t Cecily just look stunning in that smart burgundy blouse accentuated by the paisley Hermes scarf and matching opal jewelry and earrings?!!

He: Yeah. I guess. I just wanna see her naked.

But the unintended benefit of regularly tuning in to Tynan is that it tends to keep you abreast (tee-hee) of the weather.

If it’s going to rain, umbrella in hand I’m singing in the stuff. 

Gonna be cold? My woolliest winter sweater all’s a'washed and a’waitin'.

Ninety Degrees?  Surf City, here I come!  But not without sunglasses, lotion, and the number of the nearest Emergency Room.

 Because of Cecily, I take better care of myself. Were the avuncular Philly forecasters of my youth --- Dr. Francis Davis and Wally Kinnan the Weatherman --- yet on the tube, long ago I’ve have died of pneumonia.

But this all begs the $950, 000* Question: Is Cecily meteorologically on the money? Does the Blizzard of the Century ever turn out to be drizzling, partly cloudy, and high in the 50’s? Has her five day forecast ever failed to correctly predict the name of the day after tomorrow?

Frankly, if Cecily Tynan calls for 80 degree temperatures and a balmy breeze and what we get is a plague of locusts, think anybody cares?

It’s always sunny in Philadelphia …. with Cecily.

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*or whatever Cecily may be pulling down, and whatever it is, she deserves every penny of it!