The way I got my phone number is as follows... When I went in to get my cell phone plan (my first cell phone number) back in 2003 the company I got it with, which is the same company that I use today, was a lot smaller than they are currently. What they were advertising in 2003, which was not the industry norm, "Nationwide Local Calling Area" greatly attracted me to that phone company. Since I was so fascinated with that aspect of the plan I asked the salesman setting up my plan, "Since the nation is my local calling area may I get any area code possible?" After a pensive moment he responded, "yeah I guess so... I don't see why not. What area code would you like?" I told him I would like area code 415, to which he, visibly frustrated, spurted out, "Why did you ask if you can have any area code if you only want 415?" I responded, "I just wanted to know if it was possible." He shook his head in bewilderment. Recalling, how a friend at that time had the phone number (415) Money-42, I thought wouldn't it be cool if my phone number spelled out something? I asked him if I could have any phone number in the 415 area code. He told me that not all the numbers were available but many numbers available that start with the exchanges, 444 & 465 were. The first number that I asked him to check for availability was (415) Fly-Dude, a 465 number... It wasn't. (I didn't ask for the obvious (415) 444-4444.) Fly Dude was taken. I then asked for (415) Holy-Guy, and the rest is history... FOOTNOTE I: After the salesman said that (415) Holy-Guy was available I asked if another number was available so that I could have decided which one I wanted. He responded, even more frustrated this time, "No (415) 465-9489 is your number." Also, for the first year or so I didn't even know my own phone number! I just knew it as (415) Holy-Guy. I didn't know (or have memorized) the actual numbers! And nor did my father. We would often times joke about how neither one of us knew my phone number. We only knew it as spelling out Holy Guy. Now with the smartphone it's possible to type in (415) Holy-Guy into a text field, copy it, and then paste it in the telephone app of the smartphone, and when dial is tapped my number will be dialed... That's pretty cool! FOOTNOTE II: Again I stress that they were a very young cell phone company at that time, back in 2003, and so when I asked for this request, it was readily made available to me, and furthermore at no additional charge. FOOTNOTE III: When I got my landline phone number a few years later, in San Francisco, (there was a great deal I'm still making use of which is a local calling number through a local landline provider costing less than $6 a month if I don't use it all that much for outgoing calls.) I asked for (415) 563-4LEW. (Only the 563 exchange was made available to me.) There was a one-time $9 fee, which I figured was totally worth it. End of FOOTNOTES Moving forward in 2020... I would imagine that with most telephone companies it is possible to request a specific number, however, I would also imagine that a one time fee would probably accrue. And one might have to ask them what exchanges to start with, in my instance the 444, 465 & 563 exchanges were the ones that were.
Thanksgiving
I wrote this a few years ago as a goofy Facebook Post.
Enjoy!
Thanksgiving
Turkey, turkey, turkey,
Gobble it on down.
Throw some brisket at your niece
Watch your sister frown.
Toss some wine up in the air—
Watch as Grandma smiles.
For she's glad the housekeeper,
Hasn't shown a while.
Holly Would
Inspired by Jackie Green’s recent Hardly Strictly Bluegrass set; specifically, “Hollywood”
HOLLY WOULD
Holly would if she do Workin' that beat, gettin' her through. Nine to five at K-mart, or is it Walgreens? Spotify ain't helpin' Neither is– She ain't been clean. Hollywood-Holly dreams of success, Yet her red/blue stains up -n- down her dress & lasagna teeth, all upping her mess Won't conceal her Topeka roots. Holly, "would", she cries at night To Rolando– third shift manager, "all right, I'll be there in five." To the winos at the Dive, To her Topeka Crew, Yellin's long past overdue, Her parents on the ranch still all alone– No angst can conceal they're still all alone Been so for years... Hollywood-Holly dreams of making it big under those southern hilly lights. Yet Target don't pay & Amazon's wage is under seize And the streets never close. Holly knows that dress will earn her a quart of bourbon, a Domino's pie and another night's stay at the Knights Inn. And Knights Inn Wi-Fi works, the sheets are clean, and the Johns always pay. –BRIDGE– Holly would arrive at nine the next day, She tells Rolando to put her down for the day But Rolando knows Holly's true scene So he don't tell Sue, the manager of the day. -[If Jamming]- -SECOND BRIDGE- When day breaks the reds of Walgreens welcomes Holly For a carton of reds, a three-pack of single wraps and leaves Holly alone with her change.
Work
(A love poem to my favorite job of all time– Andolini's)
[I worked at Ando's 1998-1999 in Charleston SC.]
…And yes, I am being serious. In my own twisted way, after this piece was published I learned that in fact, it actually is a love poem honoring one of my most fulfilling jobs ever!
WORK -LB (Feb 2019)
And then tie your apron and then smile at Mrs. Rosetti— she owns the butcher shop and writes your check and then make sure your station is fully stocked, fully clean, fully ready for your shift, and then clock in and then clock in— you don’t clock in before your apron is on, before your apron is tied, before smiling at Mrs. Rosetti, before making certain that your station is stocked— no you don’t do that and then wipe down the butcher boards then the mirrors then the table tops, chairs, floors and then check with Carl to make certain he is all set cause if Carl is not all set and then Carl tells Mrs. Rosetti he is not all set then— and then you will be out of a job and then after Carl is all set re-wipe the butcher boards cause we are only paying you minimum wage and you know what that means and then you don’t ask for a raise, you don’t ask if you can go home early, you don’t ask if you can stay late, if you can take a long lunch, if you can stop and say hi to your friends and then you leave with your friends like the last boy we hired and then we get a post card from California and then the last boy we hired visits us and tells us how everything is wonderful in California, that minimum wage is higher in California, and then you leave to go to California and then you leave Mrs. Rosetti crying in the cannolis and then you don’t laugh at my alliteration because you are only a minimum wage worker— not a part-owner like me, like Carl, like anyone who matters, and then you— are you listening to me or are you— and then you pay attention because this is your training and we don’t pay you for your training— the last boy didn’t get paid for his training and not even Carl got paid for his training so you certainly will not get paid unless you pass your training and then you will clock in because we are only paying you minimum wage and we know you know what that means and then you will wipe the boards and then you will smile at sweet Marie Rosetti because she is the owner and she built this place before you were in diapers and we only pay minimum wage and you will wash the dishes, wash the sinks, wash the stools, wash the floors, mirrors, pots, pans, ladles, because we are only paying you minimum wage and we can replace you in a moment’s notice if you don’t—and then you will not ask for a raise, you will not ask to go on vacation, not ask to buy new furniture for your sorry mother— the minimum wagers always have sorry mothers and then you will think that somehow you are different and then we will tell you that you are not even if you do a good job which is doubtful because minimum wage workers usually do bad jobs and then you will clock in— and then you will clock in— and then you will work.
Back from PHiSH, D&C, & SCI. (July 2019)
Okay, so I wrote this BEFORE the summer even began,
But most of y’all wouldn’t know that anyways,
AND, as it turned out this Summer-Predictions Poem was/is quite accurate…
SUMMER PREDICTIONS –LB 5.17.19
Driving up the Rockies,
Over The Great Divide
Down the Mississipp
through the cornfield...
congested through ways of the.
North east
past and through the drive-in,
drive-thru
Lobster Mc archways,
glazing through dunking rings of dough
crab Merry gaps,
Monumental squares,
Casino roundabouts,
up n down sacred elevations of the
GPS
TA emblazoned Beacons fueling me, Steve, the randos accompanying us and our chariot.
MP3, USB, the F to the B,
the blue Birdie,
the gram to the me,
the W that's three,
and the cloudless/cloudy.
[That might be where it should end]
The cloudless/ Cloudy yellow line,
dashing up,
And through,
In and over
states and codes and counties. Amphitheaters of similar dimensions
with similar sounds
and similar sights, in stealth,
directing my actions.
Parking grills,
pendant thrills,
Icy Gatorade chills,
Obsessive less likely nills.
A buildup of boric cured by a white pill the night's still made for me.
To be me.
[Another potential end]
Them days - ughhhhhh.
Sheetz strewn,
Car loaded
Onwards to the next show
go go slow,
go. Go, enjoy the journey but make the
scene by 3--
Set up, make money, get that ticket.
the day-- so gradually becomes night.
Add, the night's [still] made for me?
The congested smooky boozy money
packed line.
The Hourglass moment.
Squeeze, tug, push.
No cadence, no rhyme, reason, rhythm,
Buck waters
Asshole cops or Boulder cops-- best in
the nation.
Security guards; MGM or MGM
The latter? Michael in a wheelchair,
The former? The CSI kickers.
The lights change
And them four--
And we all--
And "another reason to play Kick the Can."