Morning Came And Morning Went

 

🤍🍦🤍

            Morning came.  The band was sick and tired of their accommodations. They weren’t starving and had some cash left. But that bumpy roll all night took its toll on Howler and man. But it was their last box car ride, and they were happy for that.

Sue fared better, being so small, and liquid, as everyone knows about cats. She smiled and purred in Maurice’s arm as they followed Joe out into the Missouri morning.

***

            Speaking of cats, as it happened, Sleeky Sue was right about everything!  Joe’s song, Can You Hear Me, Mama, was a huge hit. Joe&Company were on their way, even though Joe&Company was only Joe as it turned out. Maurice and Sue could hardly perform with him, after all.

            It was all over the radio, wherever they catered to the C&W market. There were T-shirts and other merch. And Joe's success wasn’t a flash in the pan either. His other songs began to slowly catch on. He made TV appearances and played Country venues. Joe became a moderately rich man.

            While Joe was living the life and getting rich, Maurice and Sue kept house in his ritzy apartment in downtown Branson. It was an easy life, but not what they had come to Missouri for. They kept thinking and planning, wondering about the best location for a new ice cream shop. Maurice washed dishes and Suzy picked up strings and papers off the floor to help. Maurice was becoming a pretty fair cook. He even learned how to do laundry and get Joe’s things ready for his next trip. This went on for a good six months. Winter passed. Spring came.

            Sue was getting to be a grown up kitten. She personified her name well. Sleeky. Her tabby coat was of the finest. Her green eyes snapped with intelligence.

            Maurice grew a beard and started wearing jeans and T-shirts. Not all of them were Joe’s merch. In the evenings he and Sue practiced reading and writing. Well, Maurice could hold a pen, but Sue’s little paws just weren’t built for that. Sue was all about ideas and plans.

            One evening when Joe had come home for a few days, Sue decided that the time to speak up had come. Maurice cleared the table, and Sue crossed her paws and spoke.

            “Joe, do you remember back last year when we were bumming our way across the country?” said Sue. All three thought back to those chilly and bumpy rides and sneaking on and off those box cars, hoping not to get caught and tossed out. They remembered the deli chicken and being very glad to have it. They remembered Howard at the store where they first performed and their very first relatively decent money. They remembered when Maurice had declared himself to be Albanian, incredibly.

            “Of course I do, but it’s hard to believe now, everything has changed so much.” He had to grin. Joe was quite a style icon these days. In fact, he had a bit of a following in matters of fashion. He had some silver in his ponytail now and had taken to wearing sunglasses in the daytime.

            “Well, Joe, as the song says, ‘baby you’re a rich man…’.  Me and Maurice want to go ahead with the ice cream shop now.  Good time for you?”

            “Sue, I have not forgotten, and I think I know a good neighborhood for you. I’m all for it, and once again let’s do it!,” Joe announced.  “I see a lot of kids from the College of the Ozarks, and they seem like great kids who would just love some ice cream.  I mean. They are hungry. Always.

            “What shall we call it, guys? It might help to trade on my name,” said Joe.

            “Maurice and I were thinking ‘Howler’s Frozen Custard’,” said Sue. “It’s right for the location.  Everybody loves the Ozark Howler. Or, maybe they like to think they do. What if they knew they were buying ice cream from the real deal!”

            Maurice howled, getting a kick out of the idea. He still liked to sing along with Joe’s hits when he heard them on the radio.

            “That’s fair, “said Joe, “you guys will do fine on your own without my name hung on the business.” They sat up late into the night laughing and remembering.

            In the annals of happily ever after this was a good one. A defunct gift shop within three blocks of the college was leased. Joe paid for everything. There were renovations. A great sign was made by a local sign painter who needed the work and did a hilarious cartoon of Maurice along with the lettering. Licenses were obtained and inspections made. Equipment and supplies were bought and the whole enterprise proceeded as perfectly as a dream.

            They hired an Albanian student to man the counter. Maurice and Sue made ice cream from scratch, their own signature flavors. And, man, how the money rolled in!

            And, as in all good dreams, they did live happily ever after! This is the absolute truth.

La Fin and Adieu!

A True Story

 

Nursery Tales From Space

Such a strange planet!

(⌯’ᢍ’⌯ ^)∫

 

          A true story dear babes, though you will scarcely believe it! I can tell you today that I have visited this world in my many travels and all that I report to you I have seen with my own eyes.

          Approaching the Earth planet in my ship, I saw that it was a fine blue and green and brown place.  There are vast seas of water such as we never see here at home. I was careful to land somewhere green not blue my dears!

          The souls who inhabit this green and blue world have a great love for an imperious small beast. It is a mammalian creature. My children, that means that it bears live young and nourishes those young at their breasts. It is furry. There are some nearly furless ones, but they are exotic and rare, and require sweaters when the world is cold.

          Children and adults both love them, except for some who favor another beast entirely, one of a much more obliging nature. The former are called cats, kitties, pussy, kitten when young.  The latter beasts are called dogs and for some unknown reason there is animosity from the dog favorers toward the cats. However, cat lovers generally accept dogs readily. Odd.

          But, if the truth were to be told entirely, cats can be dicey subjects. They can be fastidious to feed, changing their opinions on the delectability of foods frequently. Some say that if the cat is truly hungry the cat will eat. Well, others are not so sure. Perhaps the cat will die of the exigencies of its demanding appetite. One can’t be too careful, they caution!

          For a small opportunistic beast, it is opinionated in the matter of where to sleep. As a matter of fact, many of them sleep a great deal of the day, so perhaps it matters to them a great deal. Sometimes a cat will seem to have vanished from the face of Earth but is merely sleeping in a new and more secretive location.

          I need to tell you that most of them have a long furry tail. This is true!  I have seen them. Cats also have two pointy ears on the top of their heads and many long whiskers beside their small nose. They are born with coats of different colors. Some are striped and spotted, this coat is called tabby, some are black and white, some are orange or yellow.  Some come in a mottled coat of black, white and orange.

          Cats are famous for their favorite word, which is “Meow!” They make other sounds, but “meow” is the best.

         A lot of playful opinion is aired in the matter of which is best!

          Perhaps someday before long I will acquire some kittens and bring them to our planet. I believe that this would be a very good idea.

“MEOW”

By Mak

We're Just About There!

 

Sunrise in Missouri

 
            “Why in the world did you tell that lady you were Albanian?” snickered Joe.
            “First thing that came to mind,” said Maurice, shaking his shaggy head. “I couldn’t say I was the Ozark Howler now could I? How would that have gone over? Plus, Albanians are pretty hairy. There was one in that last band in Milltown. I think he gave me a run for the money!”
            All three were gathered close together because it was dark in the box car and they were sharing some Kielbasa, bananas, rolls and more milk, mostly for Sue’s sake, since she was still a kid. A little cat kid. Joe had also bought some cans of Fancy Feast because Kielbasa is maybe a little rough and spicy for a little kitten only a few months old.
            “By the way, Joe, why did you tell that guy, Howard, that the name of the band was Joe&Company?” said Maurice. “That isn’t real bell ringer!”
            “As I told you and Sue, I felt put on the spot.  We hadn’t even discussed a name and all of a sudden I needed one,” said Joe. “I don’t think it’s real bad though. Not every band name is some exciting crazy two word phrase that someone just picked out of the air. Sometimes, it just says what it is!”
            “I think it’s ok,” said Sleeky Sue, sleepily. “If we invent a better name, we’ll just use the new one.  I don’t think it’s done any damage.
            “I’m wondering about how many songs you have written, and their names. Maybe while we’re stuck here all night, we could think about that. Were the four you did over and over today all that you have?  Are they written down?”
            “Oh, no, I have a notebook full. Some are pretty good. Some are odd and some are, like, not finished. But you’re right Sue, we need to work on maybe a dozen or even ten. Polish em up. Teach Maurice the lyrics,” said Joe.
            “I have a good memory,” said Maurice, “but I can’t read. Reading just sort of never came up. None of us Howlers ever needed to read.  We just howl and hunt and hide.  You know.  The big three.”
            “Oh, reading is no big deal,” said Joe. “I can teach you how to read pretty quick. I’ve taught other non-literates to read, sometimes for a price, you know. Each one help one, but a man’s gotta eat too.” He was strumming, and humming, and thinking up lyrics in between speaking and listening.
            “Why don’t you list a few Joe,” asked Sue. “Just by title, for now.”
            “Okay. Let’s see, um,” said Joe thoughtfully.
1.      Can You Hear Me, Mama.           
2.      Ringing In My Ears.
3.      Fishin’ Blues.
4.      My Truck’s Broke Again.
5.      Get Your Dog Off My Lawn.
6.      That’ll Be $26.99.
7.      Please, No Turkey!
8.      The Garden At Midnight.
9.      Korean Burrito.
10.  Only A Duck Would Do That.
11.  It’ll Be A Long Way Back Now.
12.  Cat’s Got It Goin’ On.
 
            “That ought to be enough,” murmured Joe.
            “The words aren’t very complicated.  People seem to dig repeated verses because they like to remember songs and the repetitions make it easier for them.”
            The train was singing that old sleepy song again, and it had been a busy day for the band. The car rocked. The wheels rattled. Sometimes a little flash of light from a lamp outside would show up briefly. It was all very much like being rocked to sleep. Some old memory.
            Maurice curled up into a doughnut again, making a shaggy nest for Sue. Sue climbed in under his raincoat in the center of the doughnut, sighed and shut her eyes.  She purred for a while and then drifted off. Her sleep was ruffled a bit by memories faint and sweet of her mother, and memories of her beloved lady.
            Joe scooted over to where he had a wall to lean on. He played a few of his tunes quietly, then put his guitar back into its case, checking to make sure that the precious notebook was still in the pocket inside. He shut the lid and drummed with his finger tips for a while on the case. Soon he was dreaming of the great future that was just waiting for them in Missouri.
            All through the night the freight rolled swiftly through the heart of America and the center of the band’s dreaming. Stars flew by, the moon gleamed, then clouds covered the heavens. Morning was on the way, just as surely as every morning that there has ever been.

Sunday Greetings for August 18, 2024

 By my whiskers and by my tail,

says Suzy,

I wish you the best of days.

She will have more commentary,

at a later date.

Of that you may be assured!

Your fabulist has taken Saturday off!

💐🤍💐

Sweet And Creamy Dreams

 

            Joe found a spot against the sidewall to lean up against, to maybe sleep and pass the night away. But of course, he didn’t fall asleep right away.  Maurice didn’t either, though his method was to curl up on the floor into a big shaggy, furry doughnut. In the center of that doughnut was Sue with Maurice’s raincoat pulled up over both of them.
            Once they were all settled Sue began to speak.
            “First, I dreamed of my mother. That led me to dreams of sweet milk, naturally. Then I thought of ice cream. Sometimes I think that people love ice cream more than just about anything except maybe true love! And oddly, love and ice cream seem to go together nicely.
            “Then I got to thinking of a dear little ice cream shop. I see it so clearly boys that I can almost touch it! I know we can do it if we are careful and do every thing right. We are basically starting from nothing so we must proceed just right!
            “I don’t know how to do anything but play this guitar,” said Joe.
            “That’s good, because that is the most important part of this whole plan,” said Sue.
            “We have to look at our assets. The best one we have right now is your music, Joe. People will pay to listen. But it’s really important where you play. You need to be strategic about locations. Let me pick a spot for you tomorrow. Maybe I can come up with a rich one!” she said.
            “I can sing,” said Maurice. “I actually did sing with two bands. Can you sing kitten?”
            “Yes, I like to sing, but I don’t have much volume. What I’m thinking is this. Joe plays his songs, Maurice sings with him, harmony you know. I will charm the passers by with my kittenish ways, and collect the cash,” said Sue.
            “We might make enough money to live day to day that way kitten,” said Joe. “But I don’t see how we’re to jump from that to an ice cream shop.  Help me here!”
            “I can’t figure it out either,” grumbled Maurice sleepily.
            “When we get to Branson we’re going to set up outside of one of the recording studios in town, play and sing all day.  If we keep it up every day and the music is good, some producer will see us or hear about us! Joe will have to do all the business, for obvious reasons. Brains don’t matter if one is a cat or a cryptid. OK, next. When Joe signs up with the music producer and gets a hit, he will have quite a bit of money. My lady’s son was one of those producers and I heard a lot of talk about the music business, though I wasn’t paying attention at the time. But I have a pretty good memory.
            “Then Joe can set us up in our shop.  You’d do that wouldn’t you Joe?” she asked him.
            “Kitty, if all of that works out like you think it will, you’re darn right I will!” Joe sounded like he actually believed it could happen. “Anywhere you like, town or country or suburb!  Maybe by a college, that would be a great place to sell ice cream!” he said, chortling at the thought.
            On that happy note, they all finally fell asleep listening to the rattle and roll of the train.
            In the morning the train was running on flat country in the middle of the continent. It was warm already when Joe, and then Maurice and Sue woke. The sun was coming up, but they were still running full speed. Of course, they had no idea when the next stop would be. So, they ate the rest of the deli chicken and drank the water from the milk carton.
            Joe played a couple of his songs. Maurice sang along, once he had heard the words a couple of times, in his piercing falsetto, which sounded very wild and western indeed. Sleeky Sue smiled. All she could think of was that little ice cream shop in Missouri.
            The next stop was in the middle of nowhere, officially. It was a flat dusty town surrounded by flat field full of corn and soybeans. They slipped out of their car easily. This town looked uninhabited to the cast of this drama. Hot flat streets with almost no traffic.
            “There has to be a gas station and a grocery store and maybe a McDonalds here,” said Sue. “Maybe they will let us set up in the parking lot at the grocery or the gas station. I think this town could use a little festivity.” It didn’t look too promising. The gas station didn’t look like a good prospect.  There was no shade at all, and no place to do their thing really.
            The grocery store looked better.  There were some trees in the parking lot and even a bench or two in the shade at the front of the store. Joe went inside with his change from last night and made sure the manager didn’t mind if they played some music outside.  He came back with four burritos, a small can of kitten food and another carton of milk.
            The manager of the store happened to like live music a lot and he asked Joe what his band was called. Before Joe opened his mouth a world of possibilities flashed through his mind, but his mouth said, “Joe&Company.”
            Howard, the manager said, “well there won’t be any confusion there,” and laughed. He walked out with Joe to meet the rest of the band. “So, you just have a singer, yourself and a pet kitty! Okay. Sounds good.” Howard wandered back into his grocery store.
            It was a long day. Most people at least smiled. Country people usually do. They took a break at the McDonald’s for drinks and a trip to the restroom. They made fair money for busking in the sticks.  Sue was right.  The grocery parking lot was a good place. They brought in $97.25. Cash buyers in the store tended to drop their small change into Joe’s hat.
            Some people actually stopped and listened. Some wanted to know the names of the songs and the name of the band, and if they had ever had any recordings made.  One old lady looked at Maurice and said, “where the heck did he come from?”
            “I’m Albanian, ma’am,” said Maurice looking very sincere.
            “Right,” said the old lady and kept on walking to her old green Plymouth sitting under a different tree. “Sure,” they heard the word as she neared her car.
Before they left the store, Joe went in and got a bag of supplies for the night and morning coming up. He said goodnight to Howard, and thanked him, telling him to be on the lookout for their band to go professional.
            After another trip to McDonalds for some warm dinner and a little scrub up in the restroom, they went back to the train line. Their train from last night was still there waiting for them.

We're Not In Oz Anymore

 

🐺😸🎸

            Maurice’s mouth was still really sore, and he was hungry. It had been a long time since all those cookies the previous day. One of the problems with being on the lam was hunger. It greeted a guy in the early morning and said nighty night to him when he tried to sleep. Sue was feeling it too, but she didn’t want to say anything about it right then.
            “Joe, how do you manage to eat out here hitching around,” asked Maurice. Actually, he was pretty sure, but just wanted to bring up the subject of eating.
            “You saw my hat. That’s it. If I make a few bucks, I eat.  If I don’t, well I live over it, to eat some other day,” said Joe. “Today I made $27.45 in legit American currency donated by the common run of mankind, in their kindness. It's not a hell of a lot. But we can eat on it today.”
            “I bet a grocery store is a good place to find a cheap outside dinner,” said Sue hopefully.
            “Sometimes that’s my best bet,” said Joe. “Fast food burgers get old fast. I would be ok if I never saw another one. Sometimes I’m too far from a regular store and I’m stuck with whatever I can find at the 7-11 or wherever.
            “Maybe I should have stayed home and worked some place regular. I have to wonder about all my so called freedom.  Such as it is,” said Joe. “My best song is about that.”
            Maurice, with Sue perched on his shoulder and Folkie Joe were still on that park bench. The day was getting on toward evening. Part of what was going on was a natural process of unconsciously agreeing on who was leading this parade. Each one waited to see who would assume the position of idea guy.
            Finally, Sue said, “the train rolled past a supermarket right before it hit the station. I saw it before you woke up Maurice. Let’s walk back along the tracks until we get there.  Then Joe can go buy some marked down deli chicken or something. My lady said that when deli chicken has been on the heat for a couple of hours they pull it off and put it in the fridge cases at about half price. We often had it when she didn’t want to cook.”
            Sleeky Sue had stepped up into her natural role. Both guys stood happily, prepared to do as she suggested. They made the several block trip out the park and back to the train station quickly. 
            What it looked like as they started down the tracks was a ponytail guy with a guitar case and a rather hairy gent, possibly some sort of large canid, walking together on the ties. What didn’t show was Sue tucked up in the crook of Maurice’s elbow where she rode in state. Their hearts were all lightened by her very good suggestion.
            Maurice and Sue waited out by the cart parking bin while Joe went inside the huge well lighted store. Nobody seemed to notice them there, which was nice.
            When Joe re-emerged ten minutes later he did have marked down deli chicken. He had three clamshell packages of it and half a gallon of milk and not much change left over. All that remained was to find an out of the way place to eat and then get back to the trains.
            “Let’s just go back to the park,” said Joe. “Seems like as good a place as any.” Fall was coming and it was getting a little chilly out. They got spattered by a little spit of rain on the way back to the park. Someone had left a long black raincoat on the bench. Maurice put it on. They all laughed but he kept it on. Maybe he could pass in public that way!
            Back on their bench, Joe poured some milk into the top of one of the clamshells for Sue, and the guys drank the rest. Maurice was able to eat the tender chicken even with missing fangs. He and Joe consumed most of two packages, leaving one for later and tearing off some nice strips for Sue. The crew was much happier now, with full tummies.  It doesn’t take much to feel full when you’ve been hungry for a few days!
            Joe rinsed out the milk carton at the fountain, filling it with water for later, and they returned to the station. Now came the tricky part, finding the right boxcar headed east. Joe took the lead. Maurice and Sue stayed in the shadows while Joe scouted around. At last, he was satisfied by a row of cars, and found one that seemed likely.  It was unlocked and seemed to be empty, from the outside anyhow.
            “I’ve never done this before,” said Joe. "I just hitch." He had followed Maurice and Sue into the car. Unlike the first car, there were no boxes of cookies here. Just a dark empty box.
            “I’ve done it. It works. Sometimes I don’t think people can really see me. Maybe that helped me,” said Maurice.  He hadn’t really considered this before. But it was beginning to seem likely.
            Slowly, slowly the train began to roll. It was going to be a long night.
            “I’ve been dreaming something,” said Sue. “I’m thinking of a plan.”
            “What’s your plan little kitty,” asked Joe.
            As the train rolled on through the night, Sue told Maurice and Joe about her dreams for their bright new futures.

Morning Is Always Better

 

 

            The freight train rolled all through the night without stopping. Maurice and Sue slept on.
            Tucked up under Maurice’s chin, Sue, who was not very old after all, dreamed of her mother. The dream naturally led to thoughts of sweet milk. Then, as dreams do, it broadened and generalized and soon she was lapping melted ice cream, a frequent gift of her lady’s. She missed her lady very much. But so much of life is a mystery to even the most observant of kitties.
            With daylight came the squealing of brakes on the rails. It was rolling dead slow into a great American city. Through the narrow opening Maurice had allowed the night before Sue could see suburbs, and then an old downtown train station. It was time to wake up and be alert.
            “Maurice, I think you better wake up,” she said.
            When his eyes opened, he was startled to realize that last night’s kitten was still there and was, in fact, washing his face for him. He hardly knew how to react, and she just kept working on his face. "Can I come with you Maurice," she asked again.
            “I’m awake cat.” He set her back on the high packing crate and then went to look outside. “Yes, we better be ready to jump when we get a chance to. The way to do this is to get out and then back in later when no one is around watching, maybe a different train. We don’t want to be here when people are looking.
            “Are you sure cat? Life with me might be rough. Nobody likes a Howler, and prospects aren’t good. You might be sorry Sue!” said Maurice while looking out at the slowing scenery.
            “I’m not afraid Maurice. I’m so small I’ll be easy for you to carry, and we can look out for each other. I’m sure. When you jump, take me with you!” She purred as loudly as she could. “And my lady is gone.  I have only you, if you will let me come with you.”
            “Okay kid, then, let’s go!” barked Maurice, scooping her up and jumping to the pavement outside, into the brilliant sunshine. He hit the ground running, with Sue tucked up under his left arm. No one was there and they were not spotted.
            They needed water. Food would be nice, but water was urgently needed.
            “Let’s find a park,” said Sue. “There will be water fountains. She used to take me to a little park in town and there was water there in a fountain.”
            “Good idea, kid,” said Maurice and he slipped along the still sleeping streets until they could see a block covered in trees and other greenery with playground equipment in the center. There was indeed a water fountain also. They decided to spend the day there in the park and return to the station when evening came. It looked like it was going to be a long day, trying to not be noticed. They settled in to wait down under some laurel bushes.
            After noon, Maurice and Sue started hearing guitar music. “That sounds like somebody I know,” whispered Maurice. “I met this guy camping in a basement back there. I wonder. Sure sounds like one of his songs! I better go look, Sleeky Sue! If it’s him, we’re in luck I betcha!”
            A somewhat shabby looking young man, maybe in his thirties, was seated on one of the benches near the entrance of the park. He had a long brown ponytail, an old guitar and case, boots, sweater, jacket and jeans. He was playing up a storm and had a western hat upside down on the pathway. The hat had a few bucks in it. He didn’t even look up when Maurice, carrying Sue, came up to him.
            “Joe! Hey Joe!” hissed Maurice. The guy looked up, startled.
            “Maurice, what the heck are you doing here?” he said. He had stopped playing his song in mid strum and he quite gaped.
            “Came in on a train, Joe. I had to get out of that damp grey place and away from those crazy people! I beat it last night. Oh, I met this cat on the train,” said Maurice.
            “Last time I saw you, you were in trouble for eating…” he trailed off.
            “Never mind that, Joe. I changed my mind. What are you doing here?” countered Maurice. “This cat is smarter than me.  She’s comin’ with me.”
            “I’ve been hitching,” said Joe. “I’ve been to six cities just in the last two weeks. I play my songs on this old thing and collect a few bucks for my trouble.  It ain’t the mother lode, dude, I’ll attest to that fact!” He put his hands in his lap and looked kinda blue about it all. He was actually pretty lonely, if the truth were known.
            “I’ve got some good songs Maurice. If I could just get the right guy’s ear I know they would make it,” said Joe.
            “Are you still playing those folk songs,” asked Maurice.
            “Naw, I wrote some kinda western ballads. I thought they would work better out here on the streets busking for bucks. They’re good songs. So far, this is my life’s work.  I have to get something going somehow.”
            “Me and Sue here are going to Missouri, back home.  I want to get something going too.  I just don’t quite know what yet. But that’s where we’re going. Going to get another train tonight. Bound to be one heading east, Joe,” said Maurice.
            “I have an idea,” Sue said suddenly. Both guys looked at her silently.
            “Why doesn’t Joe come with us? I think between the three of us something very interesting could happen. Think about it.  Why not?” Then she waited.
            “Be fine with me, Joe.  This is a smart cat.  She knows stuff,” said Maurice happily.
            “Well, okay. That might be the craziest thing I have ever heard. Invited to hop a freight train heading for Missouri with a kitten named Sue and the Ozark Howler.  Why not, indeed! Let’s do it!  All for one, and one for all!” said Folkie Joe, putting his guitar back into its case and putting his hat on his head. “Let’s do it!”