Thursday, November 16, 2017


There is a not truly a stranger nor an elapsed time too long for the Hostess.

Though, there is a place too far, sadly - to understand one another, that is. If you were to say you had started down the road of Hollister tank tops in your middle days and called from Dunkin' Dounuts (Crikey. How does one spell it anyway?); then, I'd know we had gone to different neighborhoods quite literally. And, that you'd suffered a bit in the in-between times. Not to worry, pals, I'm here to judge. 

Your quiet slips in judgments and neighborhoods are safe with the Hostess, and the Internet. 

All right. What's happened, then? What hasn't. I've moved three times within Charleston bringing the new total of homes to a number so great that I am more put off by it than my age. I have not reordered embossed stationery because I might up and move at any moment still (but if I did, obviously this). Tell me one thing: How do gypsies do it? Their stationery, I mean; I am quite familiar with the rest of their gig. 

I am raising two little wonders. And by little, I mean, in age alone. They are both quite tall, rangy, beautiful muses. They move like pumas and think like foxes. They regard manners as I did my Mother's career in opera; A thing to run from, at top speed, while screeching, into hiding. 

Manners Charleston Bedford Entertaining Authority

I say brilliant things to them nearly all the time. I have been collecting these Top Life Phrases (TLP's) since consciousness. Among them:

"Your hair is your crown." Thank you to Lois' Mom for this TLP, firstly. I utter these words and before I can finish, one little darling will nearly always tug on her wispy, side-fallen pony tail and openly scoff. 

"Please use a napkin and not your collar." This, I remember to say only after the collar is thoroughly grimed and no longer passes uniform standards.

"You should always wear socks and underwear." Because I am still a believer. But after "Netflix and chill" was explained to me, I am no longer sure anything is what it seems. 

I've had a ton of clients for digital purposes, where the Hostess veil is traded for others, and their voices both created and assumed for purposes of selling all manner of thing in all manner of channels. I can write the paint off a wall, I think I've established that. So, I do a good bit of tapping away. I alternate other business hours arguing about ad costs, drafting graphics, grousing about millennials, and harassing Yelp cold callers. It's a very full life. Full. Full. Full. 

As I write for you now, I am ducked behind the screen. I am certain the family silver (now a bit purple-black in shade, truth be known) can see me and is as disappointed as my Dad is in me (God rest his weary soul).

There is a story in every piece of that silver. I am not going to tell any of them. I am going to tell new ones, about guests, fiends, and mongrels. But not thespians, never thespians. 

How would that be? 

Good night from Charleston - with Bedford ever on my mind. 

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