Ex-speeding The Seed Limit

My fantasy has arrived.  It falls under the file of What We REALLY Wish We Could See On TV News.

Queen Rochelle furnished the picture … which I might say is AWESOME!   I wish I had a better, more inspirational a story for it!  Maybe next time.



Morning reporter Kathy Owens arrived at the burning house first, set up for her live shot  and waited.  Two minutes later, she was on the air.

“Dan, Cecily, the house here on Chestnut, we’re being told, was caused by a fire in the basement.  1000 pounds of marijuana hidden down there, according to police, caused it.”

Anchorman Dan replied. “Any injuries, Kathy?”

“So far, none, Dan, although this neighborhood was thick with smoke so they all evacuated fast.”

Anchorwoman Cecily chimed in.  “You know where they went?”

Kathy smelled the smoke and started giggling, then more. “They’re … at … TACO BELL!”


And the FF Jester strikes again.  Oh, SNAP!

The F.F. Court Jester.jpg

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Send More Chuck Berry!


Sarah Potter gave us this photo.  Thanks, Sarah.

I had NO idea what this was (which goes to show you NEVER wake up at 4 AM to see what the prompt of the week is — you’ll get confused).

Then, again, it isn’t what you’re looking at, either.  Same for the story.  It first appeared on March 26th, 2014.  Have at!



The two boys couldn’t wait to run out to the woods near the neighborhood.

“I’ll be Kyle and you’ll be Derrick and our spaceship just crashed here.”

“Right. We can pretend to build a campfire.” They stacked sticks and twigs.

Their moms stepped outside the house. “Time to come in now, boys! You can continue this tomorrow.”

The boys’ mothers looked at each other. “Hmm. Since that thing crashed-landed, every kid is playing spaceman.”

Holding the newspaper, the other mom opened it to the headline. “Oh, look. There’s more news on it.  You think they decoded those symbols yet?”



Title explanation: when they sent the Voyager up, they sent a record called The Sounds of Earth.  On it were all the recorded sounds of language, animals and music of the world. This included the Chuck Berry song, “Johnny B. Goode.”  On Saturday Night Live (an American TV satirical comedy program, for those outside the States), they did a news sketch where they reported the Voyager probe had been found by aliens and the aliens listened to the record and sent a message back, “Send More Chuck Berry!” Image

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Charlie and The Theo Mack Factory


Liz sent us this pic.  Thanks, Liz!

Broken face - Liz.jpg

Let’s go back to Chicago, Illinois, around the 1910’s or early 20’s and see what teenager, Eddie Berggren did in order to upgrade his act at the woodworking shop of Theo Mack and Sons.


“How much?”

Woodcarver Theodore Mack thought a second.  “About $35.”

Eddie frowned.  He only had $17.  His movies and daily after school soda would have to be sacrificed.  “Would you take a dollar and a-half a week?”  Mack nodded.

Eddie painfully turned over the $17 allowance he had saved for the last six months.  “Go ahead.”

Later, Eddie’s new, professionally made ventriloquist dummy was completed.  “I’m naming him Charlie, after the little, scrappy newspaper boy I knew in town.”

“Charlie, huh?  Eddie, I thought you named him after my son.”

“Yes. I did that, too, Mr. Mack … sort of.”


Whether or not Edgar Bergen (who shortened his last name)  actually named Charlie after one of the sons of Theo Mack is anyone’s guess. But, in the end, however, it’s still a good story!

Here is a rare 5-minute color short from 1938 called “Unusual Occupations” where you’ll see Edgar Bergen and Charlie McCarthy in action, the drawings made by Bergen of Charlie (@1:40) and Charlie’s displeasure at Mortimer Snerd’s creation.  Narrated by future radio announcer for the Charlie McCarthy radio show, Ken Carpenter.  Enjoy!



IMPORTANT:  For those of you on “Blogspot” I have stopped commenting because my stuff doesn’t get published when I read your entries (probably because I don’t have a “Blogspot” account).  This isn’t your fault (or maybe it is — switch to wordpress.com!) but comments are important and I want you to know I really like your stuff.  Also, if I comment on your story, please come and comment on mine.  I want to be your friend.  😉



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There’ll Be Some Changes Made

This week’s photo comes from our wonderful Ted Strutz whose pics are always top notch.  Thanks, Ted. The shot of the chair makes it look like it’s on a stage.

So, a show-biz story is in order, I think.

When the success of a comedy duo hits critical mass, it’s been known to happen that they break-up and go their separate ways.  Sometimes it’s amicable, other times it’s disastrous.

Well, this is the disastrous example.


Ten minutes before showtime, the agent found Archie Moore, Beth’s longtime comedy sidekick, hacked to pieces in their dressing room —-  and Beth holding the fire axe.

The agent shook his head in disbelief.  “I never thought you would do it, Beth.”

Beth puffed out hysterical words. “I was responsible for ‘our’ success. I’ll make some success for me now.  No more second-fiddle comedy stooge.  Tell the emcee it’ll be just me tonight … singing!

“I’ll tell them Archie’s not appearing tonight.”  The agent picked up Archie’s wooden head, now sawdust, pieces and chipped paint. “The orchestra’ll have your musical arrangements.”


As a nod to the old show business stage traditions of Vaudeville, please join us in singing along with Rochelle’s, Paul McCartney’s and my favorite American group, Sophie Tucker!



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Today’s photo comes courtesy of Roger Bultot.  Thanks, Roger.

In the “I’d Rather Die Than …” category comes this little tale of a police officer and an off-duty cop when a “disruption” hits.

Albeit re-written to an extent, this story was originally called “Interrupted” and first appeared on June 12, 2014.  Please enjoy.



The people in the street screamed.  Officer Carson drew his gun from the holster. “Get down, everybody!  DOWN!”


“Hickman, you see him?”

Off-duty Hickman eyed the balcony.  “I see him.  Let me try something.”

Hickman darted across the street.


He ran up the fire escape.


Hickman jumped the gunman in mid-reload, almost choking him.  “Drop it!  DROP IT!”

The back-up wagon later came, taking the gunman away.  Carson shook Hickman’s hand.  “Great job, Hick.  That was pretty rough.”

“No, I’m happy it happened.  I HATE going to the dentist!”

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It Was A Very Good Year


This picture comes to us courtesy of a one Al Forbes.  Thanks, Al.

From November 6, 2014, comes this story, extensively re-written.  I don’t know if it’s a superior version or not, I just know I drug it out of mothballs and went to work.

The restaurant mentioned in this story actually exists, by the way, and is one of my favorites — the Gas Light Grill in Leawood, Kansas.  Elegant food, a classic jazz ensemble and a dance floor.  Love it!

I’m a fan of vintage stuff, although this story really has nothing to do with cars. It’s actually about a guy going out with a younger woman and the guy feels the age gap is, for him, anyway, an elephant in the room.

You see, Tom and Janine are on their third date and she has chosen this restaurant.

So … let’s listen in —


Tom’s third date with Beautiful Janine started feeling awkward.

“Janine, why’d you choose this place?”

“Why wouldn’t I? I like steaks, candlelight, soft jazz with dance floors …”

“ …and thought I might like it because I’m older, right?”

Janine sighed.  “Older?  Look, Tom. You’re 52, you never married. But, you’re accomplished and respectable. I’m 30.  Men my age are nothing but boys.  You’re like vintage wine aged to perfection …”  She took his hand. “… and good enough for me.  Dance?”

As they danced, Tom held her in his arms, softly singing, “It poured sweet and clear, it was a very good year …”


Some Frank Sinatra to add to the mood.


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You Got Another “Think” Coming


Presenting Dale Rogerson’s photo, everyone.  Thanks, Dale.

Dale’s photo here reminded me of something futuristic, so I thought I’d write something science fiction-y.  A “thought conversation,” if you please.

Why do I picture this happening to the Sonic Guys, Pete and T.J.?

Dale Rogerson2.jpg


In the gym cafe, Pete read the thoughts of his buddy Tim ogling the female eye-candy.

“That one’s married …  that one has a boyfriend …”

Pete interjected.  “Tim, I taught you to read minds, not pry into people’s lives!”

“Dude, you can’t get arrested for what you’re thinking.  Look! That girl … she wishes she looked sexier … no kidding!  Look at that sorry butt!”

“That Girl” approached Tim, smiled, grabbed his front waistband, took his smoothie and poured it down the inside front of Tim’s pants.  “For your information, you’re not the ONLY mind-reader in this gym … you thoughtless TURD!”


My Al Hirschfeld-style characature by Rochelle “Hershfeld” Fields.

The F.F. Court Jester.jpg



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