70s-child: If they say so:

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

If they say so:

I was at JERA'S place this morning and found THIS LINK on her sidebar, and submitted THIS POST (the one a few days ago about how, when I was young, I liked to hang out under the Christmas tree). Apparantly, I write like Kurt Vonnegut (although, for the record, I've never read Kurt Vonnegut, so I wouldn't know)..

10 comments:

Jerasphere said...: well, according to my "Readers by Authors" post you write for those who would play Radiohead's Creep while having sex or smoking pot. Fairly accurate?

in case you are intrested

http://jerasphere.blogspot.com/2010/07/readers-by-authors.html; December 28, 2010 1:40 PM
Jerasphere said...: oh, ps.... thanks for stopping by!; December 28, 2010 1:41 PM
joe said...: My readers are into that???? God help us all.....; December 28, 2010 3:12 PM
Porky said...: That's the clincher. Not only a great blog, but big name writing too. I'm taking it on trust mind.; December 29, 2010 8:40 AM
Sans Pantaloons said...: Apparently I write like Dan Brown. No wonder I can never understand anything I write.; December 29, 2010 12:24 PM
joe said...: So do either of you like playing Radiohead and smoking pot??? Jera says you do, since you're my readers...; December 29, 2010 12:47 PM
Porky said...: If Radiohead's a game, why not, I'd be willing to play it. The pot smokes when I burn the dinner.; December 29, 2010 2:47 PM
joe said...: So what's Radiohead?? I've never known what that is. I suppose i could google it, but that just takes so much time; December 29, 2010 4:32 PM
Sans Pantaloons said...: I stand on a pot with a smoking radio on my head.
230 volts is a mighty passionate voltage!; January 2, 2011 8:40 PM
joe said...: If you've got a pic of yourself doing that, I'd love to see it; January 3, 2011 2:58 AM

one two three four five six seven eight shlameel, shlamazel, harsenfeffer incorporated!

We're gonna do it! Give us any chance we'll take it, read us any rule we'll break it; we're gonna make our dreams come true, we're gonna do it. Nothin's gonna turn us back now, straight ahead and on the track now, we're gonna make our dreams come true, we're gonna do it. There is nothin' we won't try, never heard the word "impossible". This time, there's no stoppin' us, we're gonna do it. On your mark, get set and go now. Got a dream and we just know now, we're gonna make our dreams come true. And we'll do it our way (yes our way); make all our dreams come true. And we'll do it our way (yes our way); make all our dreams come true, for me and youuuu.

I guess either way she's screwed:

1976 memory:

As a kid, I never got an allowance. That's something my folks weren't into. They were very generous with me, I never lacked anything, and usually when I asked for something they'd get it for me, but an allowance just wasn't going to happen. In '76, just before my folks split up, dad decided to give me a "job". It was sometime in January and the weather was pretty brutal, so he told me he'd pay me a quarter if I'd open the garage door for him when he got home so he wouldn't have to get out of the car and open it himself. We lived in a split level house (a raised-ranch), and the garage was in the lower level. The very first night, I was watching TV and I heard him pull in and stop at the garage door. I didn't want to leave my show, and it was pretty cold down there in the garage, and I was rather warm and cozy and comfortable sitting in front of the tv, so I basically ignored him. He honked. He honked again. And again. And again. Finally I heard him open the car door, open the garage himself, pull into the garage and slam the door shut. The way he slammed the door, I could tell he was angry and that I was in trouble. He came upstairs and just looked at me. Let's just say I lost my job that night, which didn't really bother me. A QUARTER??? I didn't get out of BED for that kind of money...

First class and fancy-free, she's high society. She's got the best of everything:

Suzanne takes you down to a place by the river. You can hear the boats go by, you could spend the night beside her. And you know that she's half-crazy, that's why you want to be there, and she feeds you tea and oranges that come all the way from China. And just when you want to tell her that you have no love to give her, she gets you on her wave-length, and lets the river answer that you've always been her lover. .... Suzanne takes your hand and she leads you to the river. She is wearing rags and feathers from Salvation Army counters. And the sun pours down like honey on our lady of the harbor. And she shows you where to look among the garbage and the flowers. There are heroes in the seaweed, there are children in the morning; they are leaning out for love, and they will lean that way forever while Suzanne holds the mirror.

Every time I think that I'm the only one who's lonely Someone calls on me...

... And every now and then I spend my time in rhyme and verse, And curse those faults in me. And then along comes Mary, And does she want to give me kicks, and be my steady chick, And give me pick of memories - Or maybe rather gather tales of all the fails and tribulations No one ever sees? When we met I was sure out to lunch, Now my empty cup tastes as sweet as the punch. When vague desire is the fire in the eyes of chicks Whose sickness is the games they play. And when the masquerade is played and neighbor folks make jokes As who is most to blame today. And then along comes Mary. And does she want to set them free, and let them see reality From where she got her name? And will they struggle much when told that such a tender touch as hers Will make them not the same? When we met I was sure out to lunch, Now my empty cup tastes as sweet as the punch. And when the morning of the warning's passed, the gassed, And flaccid kids are flung across the stars. The psychodramas and the traumas gone, The songs are left unsung and hung upon the scars. And then along comes Mary. And does she want to see the stains, the dead remains of all the pains She left the night before? Or will their waking eyes reflect the lies, and make them Realize their urgent cry for sight no more?? When we met I was sure out to lunch, Now my empty cup tastes as sweet as the punch.

Greetings from the author:

As my profile mentions, I was born on Christmas Eve 1967, in Hyannis Massachusetts. However, I was adopted as an infant and my adopted parents lived in Raynham Massachusetts which is where I grew up. I was an only child until I was 13, and being an only child I spent alot of quiet time by myself, and so I guess I was able to absorb what was going on around me without distraction. I had no idea until I started this blog just how many memories I retained. Even before I started this blog, I'd be talking with old childhood friends or relatives and I'd bring up something that happened in the past and they would always ask me "how I remembered that stuff". I didn't know about blogs until about a few months before I started this one. I've had several blogs since, but I always came back here. It just seemed to fit me. I enjoy remembering the things I post, and I enjoy sharing them with the people who read my site. Another thing I've enjoyed as a part of the whole experience is the people I've met. I really like communicating with people I've never met before, and who I probably would never get the chance to know if it weren't for the blog. Plus the other benefit of blogging is there is no editor. I get to write what I want, and say it the way I want to say it (I'm just that way...). I hope you enjoy visiting and I thank you for listening to what I have to say. I'm honored that you all stop in and take the time to read my posts, and thank you all for your comments. I try to respond to everyone, because I feel that nobody should be ignored. A couple of times I thought of quitting the blog, but I guess I enjoy it too much to ever let it go. Thank you for allowing me to be part of your day, this wouldn't be much fun without you ;^)

My hodge podge lodge:

In the early '70s there was a show on PBS called Hodge Podge Lodge. I don't remember much about it, but it describes my house perfectly. It's really a hodge podge of a house. It's got clapboard siding, log siding, asphalt siding, plank siding, and tongue-and-groove siding. It's got metal roofing and asphalt roofing. It's got old windows, new windows (and no windows). Nothing's plumb in the house - all the angles are a little askew. I've owned several homes, but even after I move on to somewhere else, this one will always be my favorite. It truly is a special place.

A gathering of angels appeared above my head:

I'm sailing away, set an open course for the virgin seas. 'Cause I've got to be free - free to face the life that's ahead of me. On board I'm the captain, so climb aboard. We'll search for tomorrow on every shore, and I'll try (oh Lord I'll try) to carry on. I look to the seas, reflections in the waves strike my memories: some happy, some sad - I think of childhood friends and the dreams we had. We'll live happily forever, so the story goes. But somehow we missed out on the pot of gold. And we'll try (best that we can) to carry on.

First I was afraid, I was petrified. Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side...

... but then I spent so many nights thinking how you did me wrong, and I grew strong. And I learned how to carry on. And so you're back from outer space, I just walked in to find you here with that sad look upon your face. I should have changed my stupid lock, I should have made you leave your key, if I had known for just one second you'd be back to bother me. Go on now go! Walk out the door! Just turn around now, 'cause you're not welcome anymore. Weren't you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye?? You think I'd crumble, you think I'd lay down and die - oh no, not I, I will survive. For as long as I know how to love I know I'll stay alive. I've got all my life to live, I've got all my love to give. I will survive, I will survive. Hey hey!!!

Jane Curtin: Scientists claim that the increase of radioactivity in the environment can adversely affect cows and the milk they give. Because of this, more pregnant women are choosing to breastfeed their infants. Here to comment further on this, is correspondent Roseanne Roseannadanna.

Roseanne Roseannadanna: Thanks a lot, Jane! Thanks a lot! A Mrs. Richard Feder of Fort Lee, New Jersey writes in and says, "Dear Roseanne Roseannadanna: I want to breastfeed my baby, but i'm not sure how you do it? Which breast do I use? How do I get the milk to be the right temperature? Will I have to heat up my breast? Do I have to sterilize my nipple? When I'm done, do I have to put my breast back in the refrigerator? And if I ate a Hershey Bar, will my breast make chocolate milk?"
Mrs. Feder, I didn't think it was possible, but you're just as stupid as your husband! But I know exactly what you're thinking, 'cause I, Roseanne Roseannadanna, was a breastfed baby. Imagine, if you will, a teeny, tiny, infant Roseanne Roseannadanna, cute as a little doll, being held close to her mama's bosum, sucking away like there's no tomorrow! It's natural, and I love stuff that's natural! Natural foods, natural childbirth, natural history, natural resources, natural gas. And, most of all, natural beauty.
I hate it when people try all these tricks to make themselves look like real hot chic. With grain, a lot of eye make-up, or those ladies who corn-roll their hair like a lot of little braids, and hang Lifesavers and lights and buttons and feathers and little stuff from Toys-R-Us on the bottom of it, and their heads are clanking around, and they look like curtains at a gypsy's house!

Bill Murray: Well, to make room for new mid-season TV programs, dozens of shows have gotten the axe this week and one of them, I'm sorry to say, is "Rhoda." Which brings us to this week's Celebrity Corner because my guest tonight is the star of "Rhoda," Valerie Harper. [Bill turns to smiling, gum-chewing Valerie Harper (dressed as her character Rhoda Morgenstern) who appears on the Chroma-Key screen behind him] Hi, Val!
Valerie Harper: Hi, Bill!
Bill Murray: Welcome to Celebrity Corner.
Valerie Harper: Hi, Bill!
Bill Murray: Kitten, let's get to the ugly stuff, first. Your cancellation. How do you feel about it, Val?
Valerie Harper: [thick New York accent] Oh, I'm fine. Listen, I had my shot. I got my break on the old "Mary Tyler Moore Show," they gave me my own show which ran for five and a half years, and now I'm off. That's life.
Bill Murray: That's all well and good, honey, but how do you really feel about it?
Valerie Harper: [in denial] I don't wanna tawk about it.
Bill Murray: Valerie!
Valerie Harper: I really don't wanna tawk about it.
Bill Murray: Valerie-a!
Valerie Harper: I'm ticked off!
Bill Murray: You're ticked off. Okay, now that's the old adorable Rhoda that I love so much. Now, why do you think you were canceled?
Valerie Harper: You know why they canceled me, Bill? You really wanna know why? Anti-Semitism. ... CBS hates Jews. That's why I was canceled.
Bill Murray: [amused] Val, you are so wrong. CBS does not hate Jews. I happen to know that Bill Paley, the chairman of CBS, is Jewish. And, furthermore, you're not Jewish.
Valerie Harper: [long pause] ... I'm not?! ...
Bill Murray: No. Rhoda Morgenstern is, but Valerie Harper is not. ...
Valerie Harper: I'm dyin' ... Are you sure I'm not Jewish? ...
Bill Murray: [sighs] I'm sure I'm sure.
Valerie Harper: I'm a shiksa? ... A bland, humorless, "makes a lousy mother because she cares more about whiskey and spam than she does her own children" shiksa? ...
Bill Murray: Well, yes, I'm afraid so.
Valerie Harper: Then why do I tawk like this? ...
Bill Murray: It beats me, Valerie. Thanks for being with us on Celebrity Corner. [Valerie Harper disappears as Bill turns back to the camera] .Valerie Harper, a very confused star of "Rhoda." [applause] Jane?

Jane Curtin: And now a new addition to our Update team is correspondent Emily Litella with tonight's commentary. [applause] Well, Miss Litella - you've badgered us all for a long time and now you have a job. Welcome.
Emily Litella: [bespectacled little old lady with squeaky voice] Oh, well, thank you, Jane. It's very lovely to be part of a news team. Ah, tonight's commentary is very important because I hear that President Ford wants to make Puerto Rico a steak! ... Now, why does he have to make them a steak? I didn't think those people even liked meat. ... Now, let me warn all of you. If you make Puerto Rico a steak, the next thing they'll want is a baked potato! With sour cream and chives and little tiny bacon bits and pieces of toast! And then they'll probably want a salad bar! Why, they'll be lined up for miles! If President Ford wants to be remembered as a great president in his final days, he should do something about the price of coffee! Not steak! It's outrageous! I can't believe what that man is doing--
Jane Curtin: Miss Litella.
Emily Litella: What? What?
Jane Curtin: [speaking slowly and clearly] Miss Litella, you've done it again. That's not "steak." President Ford wants to make Puerto Rico a state. Not a steak -- a state.
Emily Litella: Ohhhhh. Well, I'm sorry. [squints and grins, into camera] Never mind. ... [applause]
Jane Curtin: Miss - Miss Litella. Let - let's get something straight. We've put up with your slight hearing impairment for a long time now and in the beginning it was cute. But now you're part of a news team and we like to report the news accurately. Now, if you don't report the news accurately, we'll have to let you go. No job is permanent. Do you understand me?
Emily Litella: Oh, yes, yes, I do. I'll - I will certainly do my best. I'll try to do better, hm.
Jane Curtin: Please do.
Emily Litella: Bitch. ... [applause - after a moment, Miss Litella briefly holds up two fingers behind Jane's head to the crowd's delight]

Chevy Chase: Weekend Update recognizes its obligation to present responsible opposing viewpoints to our editorials. Here to reply to a recent editorial, is Emily Litella.

Emily Litella: I'm here tonight to speak out against busting schoolchildren. Busting schoolchildren is a terrible, terrible thing. I hear this is going on all over the country. Mean policemen arrest little children and put them in jail in the wrong neighborhood, so they can't even play with their little friends. Imagine, busting schoolchildren! The food in jail isn't good, and even though they get bread, I don't believe they can get toast. Or nice cake. Now, who will tuck them in? Where will they hang their leggings? Where will they set up their little lemonade stands? Well, they don't have toys in jail, except maybe..

Chevy Chase: [ interrupting ] Miss Litella?

Emily Litella: Yes?

Chevy Chase: I'm sorry. The editorial was on bussing schoolchildren. Bussing. Not busting.

Emily Litella: Oh. I'm sorry. Never mind.

Jane Curtin: This week, the Air Force reported two UFOs off the coast of Florida. Here to comment further on this phenomenon is correspondent Roseanne Roseannadanna.
[Applause as the camera pans over to Roseanne]
Roseanne Roseannadanna: Thanks, Jane. Mr. Richard Feder of Fort Lee, New Jersey, writes in and says: "Dear Roseanne Roseannadanna, Do you believe in UFOs? Have you ever seen a UFO? Have you had a contact with a UFO? Have you ever been beyond and back? Did you see Star Wars? Do you believe that we are not alone?" Mr. Feder, you ask a lotta questions for someone from New Jersey. But I know what you're askin' because once, I, Roseanne Roseannadanna, saw somethin' that drove me crazy! It was a hot and clammy summer night, and I was sittin' alone in my apartment. And I said to myself "Roseanne Roseannadanna, what you need is a ride in the country." So, I got in my car and I start drivin'. And I love to drive, 'cause my car got an FM radio that I sing with. And I don't wanna brag, but when I sing in my car, I sound just like Connie Francis! Well, it's around ten o'clock at night. I didn't know it, but off to the side of the road, there's this drive-in movie theater, and they were showin' this X-rated French movie called Le Sex Shop. And I was just ridin' along, singin' a song when all of a sudden, peekin' through the trees, I saw the world's biggest buttocks! Two big cheeks that was bouncin' over the expressway. I thought I was gonna die! There it was in living color, a rectal eclipse! And underneath, there was words, you know, like, ah, subtitles? And this backside is talkin' to me, sayin' "Do you love me? I love you. Can you touch me, please. Hold me closer, darlin'. Kiss me, my honeybear." I couldn't believe it! Jane, tell me, did a rear end ever talk to you?
Jane Curtin: [Forcing herself to smile and remain calm] No, I-I don't believe one ever has, Roseanne.
Roseanne Roseannadanna: Boy, you sure are in a good mood today.
Jane Curtin: Yes I am, Roseanne.

1974 Snoopy Power Toothbrush: I'd forgotten all about it until today. My memory must be slipping...

Show 'N Tell record player: I had it from about 1973 to 1975. I wore it out. It was a record player with a tv screen on the front, and had a slot where you would insert a strip of slide pictures. As the record played, the slide show would correspond with the story. I had a couple dozen records with the picture slides. I guess you could say it was kind of like a '70s era DVD player for kids. I loved shutting the shades and making my room as dark as possible, and sitting down for a show. Good times. With the exception of my Fisher Price Castle, this ranks up there as one of the best.

1974 Huffy Pro Thunder: I was devastated when I outgrew it. It was like losing a friend.

Fisher Price movie viewers: Sort of a '70s portable VCR for kids...

The Green Ghost Game: I didn't have this one, but my cousin Dee Dee had it. We played it once in my grandparent's house (in the bathroom, it was the only room that was dark enough when we pulled the shade down). I was drawn to glow-in-the-dark things. Plus, I loved haunted houses, ghosts, etc. I don't remember much about how the game went (who won, etc.), because Dee Dee habitually made the rules up as she went along (she thought I was too young to notice, but I did notice, and basically I knew she was full of crap that day). She was always "just remembering" rules which worked in her favor, whatever we were playing. Well, I still love her. Even though she was a cheater...

Don't be shy, just let your feelings roll on by.:

Harold is driving his hearse, and Maude sits beside him. Then Maude says: "And so just before he left for the monastery in Tibet, Big Sweeney gave me his keys" (She is showing Harold her ring of car keys). And Maude continues: "Of course, I've had to make some additions for the new models, but not as many as you might think. Once you have your basic set it's then only a question of variation." Harold replies: "And you get into any car you want and just drive off?" Maude replies: "Not any car. I like to keep a variety. I'm always looking for the new experience, like this one. I liked it." "Thank you" says Harold, "But when you take these cars don't you think you are wronging the owners?" "What owners, Harold?", replies Maude, "We don't own anything. It's a transitory world. We come on the earth with nothing, and we go out with nothing, so isn't "ownership" a little absurd?" "Still, (says Harold) I think you'd upset people and I'm not sure that's right." "Well," says Maude, "if some people are upset because they feel they have a hold on some things, then I'm merely acting as a gentle reminder - I'm sort of breaking it easy -- Here today, gone tomorrow, so don't get attached to things. Now, with that in mind, I'm not against collecting stuff..."

They arrive at Maude's home, and it is daytime, and the scene is inside her house. Maude looks out her window into the backyard, sees several birds and exclaims: "Oh, look! The birds." She goes to the window and works a unique pulley device that delivers seed to the bird table in the back yard. And Maude continues: "This is my daily ritual. I love them so much. The only wild life I see anymore. Free as a bird! (fluttery laugh) You know, at one time I used to break into pet shops and liberate the canaries, but I gave it up as an idea before its time. The zoos are full and the prisons overflowing. My, my. How the world so dearly loves a cage."

PSYCHIATRIST: Harold?
(Harold is day dreaming.)
PSYCHIATRIST: Harold?
HAROLD (comes to): Huh?
PSYCHIATRIST: You don't seem to be listening. I asked do you have any friends?
HAROLD: No.
PSYCHIATRIST: None at all?
HAROLD: Well, maybe one.
PSYCHIATRIST: Would you care to talk about this friend?
HAROLD: No.
PSYCHIATRIST: Is this a friend you had when you were away at school?
HAROLD: No.
PSYCHIATRIST: (things are getting difficult) I see. (he tries a new attack) Were you happy at school, Harold?
HAROLD: Yes.
PSYCHIATRIST: You liked your teachers?
HAROLD: Yes.
PSYCHIATRIST: Your classmates?
HAROLD: Yes.
PSYCHIATRIST: Your studies?
HAROLD: Yes.
PSYCHIATRIST: Then why did you leave?
HAROLD: .. I burnt down the Chemistry building...

Maude and Harold are walking down a row of flowers. And Maude continues: "They grow and bloom, and fade, and die, and some change into something else. Ah, life!" They stop by some flowers. "I should like to change into a sunflower most of all. They are so tall and simple. And you, Harold, what flower would you like to be?" Harold pauses for a moment and replies: "I don't know. Just one of those" (he gestures to a large field of daisies stretching to the hills). Harold and Maude look out at it. "Why do you say that?" asked Maude, a little perturbed. "Because they are all the same" replied Harold. "Oooh (said Maude) but they are not. Look. (they bend down to see some close ones). "See - some are smaller, some are fatter, some grow to the left, some to the right, some even have some petals missing - all kinds of observable differences, and we haven't even touched the bio-chemical. You see, Harold, they're like the Japanese. At first you think they all look alike, but after you get to know them you see there is not a repeat in the bunch. Each person is different, never existed before and never to exist again. Just like this daisy - (she picks it) - an individual". They stand up. "Well, we may be individuals all right but - (he looks out at the field) - we have to grow up together". Maude looks up. She is very struck by what Harold said. She speaks very softly: "Yes, that's very true. Still I believe much of the world's sorrow comes from people who know they are this - (she holds the daisy) - yet let themselves be treated - (she looks out at the field)- as that".

Maude and Harold have just dug up a sick and dying tree on municipal property in front of a courthouse to transplant it in the woods. Maude is driving and speeding excessively. Harold sits beside her. Harold looks at Maude. She smiles. He smiles. A Cop on a motorcycle watches Maude go by. He follows her and flags her down. She pulls the truck over to the side of the road. The cop gets off his motorcycle and comes over to the truck door.
COP Lady, you were going 70 miles an hour in a 45-mile zone. Could I see your license, please?
MAUDE Yes. Those little pieces of paper with your picture on it?
COP Yes.
MAUDE Oh, I don't have one.
COP Come again?
MAUDE I don't have one. I don't believe in them.
COP How long have you been driving??
MAUDE About forty-five minutes, wouldn't you say, Harold? We were hoping to start sooner but, you see, it's rather hard to find a truck.
COP Could I see your registration?
MAUDE I just don't think we have one, unless it's in the glove compartment. Could you look, Harold?
COP Isn't this your vehicle?
MAUDE No, no. I just took it.
COP Took it??
MAUDE Yes. You see I have to plant my tree.
COP Your tree..
MAUDE Well, it's not really mine. I dug it up in front of the courthouse. We're transplanting it. Letting it breathe, you know. But, of course, we would like to get it into soil, as soon as possible..
COP Lady, let me get this straight...
MAUDE (agreeing) All right, then, and we'll be off. (she revs up the motor) Nice chatting with you.
Maude zooms off down the highway. The cop is left flabber- gasted. He races for his motorcycle. With SIRENS blazing he drives off to catch her.

The scene is inside Maude's home. It is night, and Maude and Harold are dressed in bright Japanese kimonos. They are relaxing on cushions in the Japanese nook after having just finished supper. Maude puffs pleasantly on a hookah. Harold says "I like Glaucus." Maude replies: "Yes, so do I. But I think he is a little... old-fashioned. Like a puff, Harold?" "Well, I really don't smoke.", says Harold. "It's all right," says Maude, and offers him the hose, "It's organic." Harold smokes and says "I'm sure picking up on vices." Maude replies: "Vice? Virtue? It's best not to be too moral, you cheat yourself out of too much life. Aim ABOVE morality. As Confucius says, "Don't simply be good. Make good things happen." "Did Confucius say that?" asks Harold. "Well -- (she smiles) - they say he was very wise, so I'm sure he MUST have."

As Harold and Maude sit before the fire, Harold points over the fireplace and says to maude: "What's that?" Maude replies: "My umbrella? (fluttery laugh) Oh, that's just a relic. I found it when I was packing to come to America. It used to be my defense on picket lines and rallies and political meetings - being dragged off by police or attacked by thugs of the opposition. (fluttery laugh as she remembers). A long time ago. "What were you fighting for?" asks Harold. Maude replies: "Oh, Big Issues. Liberty. Rights. Justice. Kings died and kingdoms fell. I don't regret the kingdoms- what sense in borders and nations and patriotism - but I do miss the kings. When I was a little girl I was taken to the palace in Vienna, to a garden party. I can still see the sunshine, the parasols, and the flashing uniforms of the young officers. I thought then I would marry a soldier. (fluttery laugh) Later, Frederick would chide me about it. (with a twinkle) He was so serious. A doctor at the University. And in the government." Suddenly she gets quiet. "But, that was all... before..." Maude stares into the fire. She suddenly seems very small and fragile. Harold notices the change that has come over her and is not sure what to say. He asks "So you don't use the umbrella any more?" She looks at him and softly says "No." "No more revolts", says Harold. Maude sparks back to her old self and says "Oh, yes! Every day. But I don't need a defense anymore. I embrace! Still fighting for the Big Issues but now in my small, individual way.
Shall we have a song?"

I've always had a "thing" for organic architecture:

Oh very young what will you leave us this time? You're only dancing on this earth for a short while. And though your dreams may toss and turn you now, they'll go vanish away like your daddy's best jeans - denim blue, fading up to the sky. And though you want them to last forever you know they never will (you know they never will), and the patches make the goodbye harder still. Oh very young what will you leave us this time? There'll never be a better chance to change your mind. And though you want this world to see better days, will you carry the words of love with you - will you ride the great white bird into heaven? And though you want to last forever, you know you never will (you know you never will), and the goodbye makes the journey harder still.