Friday January 7th, 2011

The exercise:

Four lines of prose about: the concert.

I was able to pick up all the quarter round trim we need but the store still didn't have the baseboards in. Supposedly they will tomorrow. So I spent part of the day cutting the quarter round and then I tidied up the basement a bit - a task which I had been putting off for at least a week.

But I needed to make space for our new washer and dryer. I totally forgot to mention that, didn't I? Probably because they haven't arrived yet. We got them during a Boxing Week sale for a pretty incredible price and they should show up some time this week. I'll get a picture once they're setup.

If I don't get the baseboards done tomorrow I may just lose my mind. We started the renovations four months ago today and they're basically the last thing I need to do. I just want it done already.


"I can't believe you managed to get first row tickets - I don't even want to know who you slept with to get them!"

"Yeah, you really don't."

"This is gonna be so awesome... wait, why do you have that look on your face?"

"No reason... but uh, tell your mom I said hi."


Greg said...

Good luck with getting the baseboards tomorrow -- I completely understand your frustration with only one thing left to do!
And I was wondering, when you mentioned the basement yesterday, if we'd be getting any pictures of that. I'm guessing that hasn't required any renovations, more a clean-up and tidy.
Building your own home? Well, that'll probably need a blog of its own ;-)
I loved the last of your four lines today. So very apt.

The concert
concert, n. [From the very Vulgar Latin concigliarissimo meaning you'll have to ask your mother what that's shaped like.] To surprise in a pleasant manner. [See disconcert as antonym.]

Heather said...

Marc- I don't even know what to say. But I did smile.

Greg- Back to definitions, huh? I like it.

Not happy with this, but it is what it is.

The concert would start in about an hour in the old theater across the street. It would be a small intimate affair, only 250 seats, that Joe would be attending with his new girlfriend. I raised my diet coke from my window seat at Penny's Diner as I saw them enter and muttered a quiet, "Kaboom", a private joke between Joe and I. The next morning the headlines would read Bomb Squad Expert Sets Off Bomb At Explosion Concert.

Lynn said...

Marc - I have been following your blog for quite some time now. Just getting up the nerve to actually share a response to your prompt. New Year's Resolution of sorts.
Love the pictures of your new home. The view is to die for!

The seats are front row, unbelievable. I know this concert will be over the top, and he will expect something special for getting the tickets for us. But later is later and here we are in the front row. The concert starts and the teeny boppers jump up and run to the stage, so sitting for the show is not an option. We stand, jumping with the beat and feeling the excitement grow. The lead singer comes out with the microphone and stands at the edge of the stage, looking down at us. He doesn't look like I expected him to. He actually looks a bit green around the gills, if you know what I mean. He opens his mouth to sing and without warning vomits all over those of us within range. The crowd goes wild. The teeny boppers are screaming like that was a real treat. "He threw up on me! He threw up on me!" They are crazy in love with this guy. I say to my date, "Yuck! Get me out of here! I need a shower right now!" He grins, thinking the shower surely will include him, and off we go. What a waste of good front row seats.

summerfield said...

marc, first i didn't get it, then i did get it! aha!

greg, you never fail to amaze me.

heather, good one - "kaboom!"

lynn, i've witnessed such concert in my lifetime. no vomiting but with a lot of screaming.


Watching her was a dream come true. In her black velvet gown, she sat on the edge of the high stool, delicately brushed her hair aside with her beautiful fingers, and when she sang the first few notes of "What are you doing the rest of your life?", I cried.

Her voice was half a note lower than 30 years ago, but it didn't matter. For the mere price of $275 I got to see her and hear personally the greatest voice of them all: Barbra Streisand.

Marc said...

Greg - the basement was mostly one hell of a tidy up and putting in insulation. It wasn't much to look at before, and still isn't, really.

I'm very pleased to see the return of your definitions :)

Heather - well, I'll take a smile any day of the week :)

That sounds like quite the concert.

Lynn - well then, welcome to the sharing part of the blog! I like to consider it the best part.

And nothing to fear here, we're a friendly and supportive lot :)

"He threw up on me! He threw up on me!" Hahaha. I could totally picture that.

Summerfield - well, at that price it had better be worth it! I know it wouldn't be for me :P

Zhongming said...

The concert

I wish I had the courage to hold her hands and give her a hug when we first dated at the outdoor concert. I wanted to give her the support that she wanted badly ever since her last broken relationship but I remain evasive and looked unconcerned. I wanted to reserve the best of best for her and I wanted her to deeply feel how much I really care. I just wish that the concert would stop in time so that I can make it right again.

Marc said...

Zhongming - I can feel your narrator's inner turmoil. Very nicely done.