Bob Deakin Short Stories

I’ve heard of big asses, fat asses, tight asses and lard asses, but I’ve never known anyone to have a long ass.

Not the case anymore.

I saw a woman at a town meeting last night who had such an appendage. She was a pretty woman of about 55-60, not fat and not unusually tall but she had an unusually long ass. It’s hard to describe it, in that it extended from the bottom of her back to the top of her legs to a length of nearly two feet.

I couldn’t tell anything was amiss at first when she was seated but then she stood to speak to the room and holy cannoli, there it was. Again, she was not deformed in anyway and didn’t look as though she’d been the victim of an accident or surgery gone wrong. It was as properly proportioned as a long ass should be, I guess, not that I’d ever seen one before, but it was just so damn long.

How can that happen? Had she spent in inordinate amount of time sitting down through the course of her life? Perhaps she’d done a lot of driving or row-boating. Maybe she’d been overseas in the Peace Corps in the 60s and 70s and spent too much time sitting Indian style?

Speaking of overseas, she had an English accent which, strangely enough, made the long ass make more sense. How, I’m not sure but the elegant speech patterns and extended vowels seemed to match the longness of the ass. I easily imagined that she might have made the scene at many a “high tea” in England and scoffed down her share of scones and crumpets.

I can be certain she was a stranger to the soccer, or futball field in jolly old England but she’d probably been on a horse or two. Come to think of it, maybe she’d been a horse in a past life or closely related to one. Her ass was like that of a horse without the bulging muscles. She didn’t have a horse face by any means and I wouldn’t ask her “what’s with the long face” but I might ask her “what’s with the long ass?”

Perhaps, “A little long in the bum wouldn’t ya say, ma’ lady?” might be more appropriate.

She probably wouldn’t like that and I wouldn’t ask her that for I wouldn’t want her to kick my bum. Would it be proper to tell her she’s a little long in the bum or is it bad manners to say that to a woman? I think I’ve answered my own question.

I wonder if she spends more money over the course of a lifetime on seat cushions and undergarments? Stands to reason. And where the hell does she buy underwear? The Big and Tall Store? I don’t know of any Big and Long Stores. Does she wear underwear? I certainly hope so but she doesn’t wear panties. Nothing that covers that rig ends with “ies.”

She seems like a very nice woman and very intelligent too. After all, she’d brought up a good point at the meeting, which was organized to address the disproportionate, uncontrolled growth of her pretty little town.

The irony of it all.

Copyright 2009

The Beatles' Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band was originally relased in 1967.

As we celebrated the 40th anniversary of the release of The Beatles seminal Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band album, I was compelled to finish the review that I never completed. I was a few months short of my second birthday when the album was released, but it had a profound effect on me.

Thanks to older brothers and sisters, the album was played over and over again as I learned the basics of life and an early appreciation of music. I didn’t yet know how to write or reason, but I’m confident that the countless comments that I heard at the time about the Beatles, the songs and the album were deposited into my subconscious memory for later withdrawal.

What I do remember vividly are some of the dreams I had about the imagery from the album; most notably John Lennon’s glasses from the cover photos, Ringo’s drum break in “A Little Help From My Friends” and the recurring nightmare I had about “Lucy In the Sky With Diamonds.”

My older sister’s name is Chris, known around the house as “Chrissy” as a kid, and I had this very scary dream, set at night in our back yard, that she was in the sky, with shiny things around her, hence, Chrissy in the Sky With Diamonds. It wasn’t a good dream. She was kind of stuck up in the clouds with Lennon and his glasses on while the rest of us were on the ground kind of staring up at her with other weird images popping up all around.

Lennon’s voice in that song really bothered me. It was as if he put Chrissy up there and was taunting us about it. There was no psychological reason for the dream. I loved my sister as I did everybody in the family and I didn’t want her to be up there with that weirdo. The dream didn’t go much farther than that, but it came back to me a few more times until the song was forever etched in my mind as “Chrissy in the Sky with Diamonds.”

I replay the image of that dream every time I hear the song (which has only been a thousand times or so) and to this day it’s one of the few Beatles songs that I don’t like. The CD version of the album sounds like crap compared to my mint condition vinyl LP, but the one thing I like is that I can skip to the next song with the click of a remote control, as opposed to walking to the turntable and lifting the tone-arm and moving it to “Getting Better,” which has always had a double meaning to me, as a result.

Here’s how my review of the album would have read if I was able to put those thoughts and images together as a very mature one year-old.

Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band

The first song on this unique new album, the title track, “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band,” really blew my mind, which isn’t saying much for a one year-old. The song is dominated by brass with some really groovy guitar licks by George Harrison woven in between. The song clomps along in a steady march and climaxes with a very impressive ascending vocal harmony at the end. The crowd applause is a nice touch, too. Very unusual for a rock band to begin an album with an overture.

What’s really cool is how the first song leads into the second; “A Little Help From My Friends.” I don’t know who these friends are that the Beatles speak of but they must have quite an influence on them. Ringo Starr shows a fine baritone voice that we’ve not heard before and he adds a great, albeit, simple drum break early that gives the song a moment of reflection that works to perfection.

“Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds” is the third track and it’s quite the step back into the mellow introspective. John Lennon does the vocal and sounds almost creepy, singing in a voice we’ve never heard from him. The song is hauntingly breathtaking and soothing while disturbing at the same time. We aren’t told who Lucy is, why she’s in the sky or where diamonds come in to play but it’s the Beatles, so it must be cool. It’s almost as if the title of the song is an allegorical word play on something that the Beatles are not informing us about.

I don’t know if I’m more frightened by the way John sings this song or the way he looks in that satin green, 19th Century military uniform on the album photos. He also now sports these round, wire-rimmed glasses that make him look really way out. It almost looks as if he’s doing drugs or something, but this is the Beatles, and we all know these fine Englishmen don’t dabble in that stuff.

“Getting Better” is next and that’s right. The album gets immediately better with this song. It is a breath of fresh air following the emotional roller coaster that is the first three songs.

I’ve got to admit it’s getting better
A little better all the time
I have to admit it’s getting better
It’s getting better, since you’ve been mine

Whoever it is that Lennon and McCartney are referring to, she must be quite a girl. I always figured since the Beatles are so famous, they must have girls throwing themselves at them everywhere they go. I’m sure we will find out one of these days very soon who this special someone is who has had such a positive effect.

Emotions aside, Paul McCartney drives this song with his bass guitar while he and Lennon team up for a brilliant lead vocal duo throughout. It is odd to hear a bass guitar lead a song but McCartney’s Rickenbacker 4001 Bass does just that. Harrison’s halting cadence on the guitar adds the perfect touch of an optimistic march forward.

Great phrasing and contradictory messages abound including Can’t get no worse, as well as pictures of their past (I used to be cruel to my woman) that are perhaps better left unsaid. Best song on the album, hands down.

“Fixing a Hole” really sent me for a loop with that somber harmonium at the beginning. I was also wondering what kind of hole needs fixing. Anyway, very nice and powerful vocal by McCartney with a great distorted guitar break by Harrison midway through. Love the rising falsettos that close out the song. McCartney’s energy builds and builds, getting seemingly desperate about a seemingly banal subject.

Seems like he was spooked by the hole where the rain gets in. Stops my mind from wondering? He seems to have been caught in a moment of heightened imagination. The Beatles seem to have a lot of those type of moments these days. Well, they’re getting older and maybe they’re starting to experiment with different ways of thinking, or something. I heard that Lennon’s been hanging around with Mick Jagger, and I hear that guy hangs with the extra groovy people.

“She’s Leaving Home” is quite the departure in emotions once again, which seems to define this album. Beautifully Victorian in its style, the string quartet provides the perfect backdrop to this sad story of a young girl leaving home and leaving her parents heartbroken.

McCartney’s vocal tells a third-person story so easy to visualize, buttressed by Lennon’s answer to each of his statements in the verses, placed so cleverly in the distant background. McCartney’s falsetto soars ever more toward the climatic and terribly sad conclusion, matched by Lennon’s Bye, Bye voice of his conscience. The story doesn’t have a happy ending, and I feel as if I’ve lost someone forever, although I will never let it happen again.

“Being For The Benefit Of Mr. Kite!” is the last song on Side A.

What the hell is going on here?

A raucous calliope and thumping drums set the tone in this peculiar tune which I may never figure out. I’m not even sure the lyrics on the recording match those on the back cover of the album.

Messrs. K and H assure the public
Their production will be second to none
And of course Henry The Horse dances the waltz!

These guys are getting really weird. It’s bad enough that those words make no sense but I can swear Lennon is singing And of course Henry The Horse and Fuzzy The Whale!

Still makes no sense but I’m glad it’s the last song on the first side because I can push the stop button on my turntable to end it and turn the album over.

“With You, Without You” opens side B. We don’t get many George Harrison songs on Beatles albums and I wonder why we go this one. Sitars look really groovy and it’s fun to watch somebody play it but, like yodeling, I don’t want to hear it.

I’m sorry George. I loved “If I Needed Someone” on the Rubber Soul album and I hope to hear more beautiful songs like that in the future. This is probably just a phase George is going through with this Indian music and probably the last we hear of that stuff on a Beatles album.

“When I’m Sixty-Four” is next and now we’re floating back to Earth. This song is steeped in the classic Al Jolson style of crooning in the 1920s and if I didn’t know better, I might even say it was written by McCartney by himself, even though the credit is Lennon-McCartney. You don’t suppose these guys just bill every song as a co-write do you? Maybe Lennon added the line Doing the garden, digging the weeds. The way he’s been acting lately, it almost seems like he’s been digging weed, although this is the Beatles, and we know these fine Englishmen don’t dabble in that stuff. Certainly not McCartney.

“Lovely Rita” follows that and man, where is this album going? I can’t imagine McCartney being attracted to the local meter maid when we see film clips of a thousand women chasing the Beatles down the street. This song is very bland in lyric and melody although the vocal harmonies are great. That said, where does this fit on this album? Am I missing something?

“Good Morning, Good Morning” follows Rita and we’re going down hill Daddy-O. I would have to be on drugs to enjoy this song, and I’m sure that’s not the message that the Beatles are sending because we know these guys don’t do that stuff; although my suspicions are growing about Lennon. Maybe those friends he’s been hanging out with are having some strange influence on him. Probably just a phase, like Harrison and the Indian music.

“Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band (Reprise)”

Finally a good song. It seems like a week ago I was excited about how this album was getting better all the time, when I was starting to think that it can’t get no worse.

This song takes off like one of those rockets they’re sending into orbit nowadays. A one, two, three, four count off from McCartney and the Beatles are rocking like the Yardbirds on their best day. This reprise of the title track moves quick and is over before you know it, but not before you forget it. Harrison plays some mean distorted guitar with Ringo pushing the song along with a frantic pace, which ends with the first note of the last song on the album.

It leaves us winded, but poised for a song with meaning and, more importantly; a song from John Lennon.

“A Day In The Life” is a tour de force emotional roller coaster that epitomizes and completes the album we thought we were getting when it started.

Lennon brings back his “Lucy” voice, sounding unusually winded and disappointed, not like we’ve heard from a Beatle before. He tells the sad story of a lucky man who made the grade yet blew his mind out in a car because he hadn’t noticed that the lights had changed. A crowd of people stood and stared. They’d seen his face before although they weren’t sure if he was from the House of Lords.

Lots of imagery here. Perhaps Lennon is speaking metaphorically and cynically of McCartney’s rise to the forefront of the band, which seems to have happened in the past year. If that is his point, he speaks as though his band mate has died, artistically, losing touch with reality and succumbing to his exploding ego.

We can’t tell what’s going on behind the scenes with the Beatles but Lennon has developed a very introspective and brutally honest way of expressing himself in his songs. If you ask me, strange as it may seem, he’s talking about himself.

The song does an about face when the melody changes abruptly and McCartney chimes in with Woke up, got out of bed, dragged a comb across my head. Very interesting interlude from the guy this song may be about. I’m just getting confused with all of that when they do a brilliant drop back into the original melody.

Lennon picks back up with the vocal spouting off about 4,000 “small” holes at the Royal Albert Hall, which, coincidentally, seats about 4,000. I don’t think John is going to be invited to Tea with the Queen any time soon.

The song concludes with Lennon’s line, I’d love to turn you on, followed by an orchestral hyper-climax that ends with all hands on the piano for the final note, which rings on in a terrifying manner for what seems like eternity. I think I’ll hide under the covers now.

There is this developing tavern tale with Beatles weirdos that Paul is dead. There are countless “clues” on the album giving credence to the story such as Paul standing with his back to the camera on the back album cover and the lyric, He blew his mind out in a car. There is also a message divulged when playing backwards the recent single, “Strawberry Fields Forever,” which conveys I Buried Paul at the end of the track. Incidentally, that song and “Penny Lane,” the B-side, would have fit much better on this album than any number of the other tracks that made it.

It’s actually a clever ploy on the part of the Beatles marketing bandwagon but I have to ask myself, why would they need more publicity? Also, who is the guy they found to replace him who writes songs, sings, plays incredible bass, guitar and keyboards? I guess it must be those guys from Phil Spector’s “Wrecking Crew.”

The next thing you know, they’re going to be circulating stories that it wasn’t Lee Harvey Oswald who killed Kennedy.

“Sgt. Pepper” is undeniably original, at times scary and sometimes too weird for listening pleasure. I think the guys are spending a little too much time with their friends, although I’m sure they have lots more friends now that they’re The Beatles. Nonetheless, I’m sure there are plenty of great albums to come, and I bet Lennon starts hanging around with the right people again. I heard he has this really nice new girlfriend who’s from Japan.

I bet she straightens his life right out and the band is together for the next 20 years.

Copyright 2009

Very important couple Tim Robbins and Susan Sarandon.

In a closely contested vote this week, the Senate approved the dissolution of the relationship of celebrity couple Susan Sarandon and Tim Robbins. The couple credits the liberal majority in Washington for the ability to officially end their unofficial two-decade relationship.

“Our work here is done,” stated a satisfied Robbins on the steps of Capitol Hill following the pre-Christmas vote, the Senate’s last act before the Holiday recess. “We had a great ride and feel we have changed the world in ways we never imagined.”

“We didn’t accomplish everything we set out to do but this does not end the story of our pursuit of freedom for all peoples,” Sarandon declared in a prepared statement. “We will merely be taking different roads toward the same ultimate destination.”

The couple paid homage to several groups for years of support in their efforts to help the plight of the common man in his fight for justice and fair treatment in the face of opposition from “oddball factions” such as heterosexuals, the middle class and military veterans.

“This great nation would not be what it is today without the heroic efforts of people like William Shakespeare, Madonna and Oprah Winfrey, and we wish to thank them, our fans and the Academy for all they have done to further our causes,” Robbins shouted, provoking a long ovation from a sympathetic crowd of reporters from most major news sources. He did not specify which nation to which he was referring but the ovation continued nonetheless, with camera flashes popping like fireworks at a Disneyland celebration.

Sarandon and Robbins each made a point to celebrate the tireless efforts and funding of various government programs that benefit drug addicts, repeat criminal offenders, illegal immigrants and global warming, which may never have existed without the guile of the liberal media and the entertainment industry.

Sarandon laughed at a hypothetical question posed by an NBC reporter – playing devil’s advocate – asking if such programs wasted valuable taxpayer dollars to benefit those who didn’t need, want or deserve Federal assistance.

“I think your presence here this evening is the best answer I can give to that question,” Sarandon giggled as she stepped off the podium before planting a long kiss on the mouth of Rosie O’Donnell.

Sarandon and Robbins added that they will continue to provide assistance and support for the two children they bore during their time in office as a celebrity couple. 

Copyright 2010

One day, Margie said to her brother, “What’s with the long face, Timmy?”

Timmy sullenly looked up and said, “Our favourite restaurant, A Bottle of Bread, burned down and now I can’t go there to see all of my friends.”

“Well Timmy,” she said, “Sometimes restaurants catch on fire and the brave firemen aren’t able to put the flames out before the restaurant turns black and smells like charcoal.”

“That’s just not fair,” he chirped. “Everyone should have a place to go where they can eat good food and see all of their friends.”

That got Margie thinking. Maybe they could buy their favourite restaurant, fix it up and bring all of their old friends back. They could name it after their two favourite actresses; Hope Lang, who played Mrs. Muir on the TV show, “The Ghost and Mrs. Muir,” and Olive Oil, wife of the strong-armed, spinach-eating sailor. They considered other names for the restaurant as well, including A Loaf of Milk, A Pint ‘O Beef, and The Colon Clogger, but settled on Hope and Olive.

They could make the restaurant look real sassy and hire some very, very people to work there and invite lots of friends with stupid names to come and visit. They could make the place turn groovy with some music and fun shindigs and serve some all-real, all-yummy vittles. Being restaurant owners would also give them the excuse to order cases and cases of nitrous oxide canisters so they could do whip-its and get higher than Richard Pryor.

In any event, they each had some loose ends to tie up before they could make the plunge into their new passion as restaurateurs: Margie worked full-time as a Pinkerton and Timmy had his gig as a shepherd, but they were both determined to make it work. They each had to accept the idea that there were other people who could patrol parking lots and tend to ruminant mammals of the genus Ovis, of the family Bovidae.

What hit them the hardest, however, was that they would each have to retire from their night gig as go-go dancers for The Nut Busters, a happening local band that had built a strong following in the thriving North Hampton music scene.

Success does not come without sacrifice.

“What if we bring in local bands to play so that our customers and friends have fun and keep coming back. The bands get more exposure, bring more friends into our restaurant and make really small amounts of money that they can joke about later if they make it,”said Timmy, with much self gratification.

“I think that’s a very effective marketing ploy,” said Margie, playing the diplomat. “And we can buy meats and produce from local purveyors and pot head organic farmers. We’ll buy beer, wine and liquor from salesmen who have the best deals that particular month. We’ll hire local contractors to fix the place, share laughs with health department inspectors and local politicians, and get somebody else to pay for the whole floggin’ thing”

Their plan was coming together. The only thing they were missing was a third party to act as business manager and run the kitchen: Enter Mae.

Mae was a friend of both Margie and Timmy and had managed A Bottle of Bread during its last tenure when the three of them became friends. She knew all of the best pot head farmers, local purveyors, local politicos and previous customers. She was a no-nonsense gal, fit with a strong work ethic, a demand for excellence and a distaste for lazy douche-bag waiters.

There was something magic in the air. Margie and Timmy just had to get their friend on board for the voyage to grooviness.

The logical thing to do at this point was to invite Mae over to the house to smoke some crack and watch The Wizard of Oz with Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon as the sound track. When the movie was over, Margie fired up a blunt, passed it around and popped the question to Mae.

“Say, groovy girl, how’s about you, me and Timmy reopen A Bottle of Bread as our own place and live happily ever after?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Mae responded.

The three erupted with laughter and proceeded to dance around the house before teaming up to make a celebratory rope of homemade sausage links with Timmy, of course, manning the meat grinder.

Things kind of just fell into place after that fateful evening. They got their financing together, fixed the building, got all the permits and inspections, rounded up a hum dinger of a staff, decorated the place real sassy and invited their old friend, Dan Seward, to perform at the opening night gala. He brought down the house that night with his frozen chicken routine.

Margie, Timmy and Mae got off to a flying start with Hope and Olive and kept a steady stream of shiny happy people coming in every day. Their story has since been chronicled in The Boston Globe, among other pubs. Margie and Mae are wheelin’ and dealin’ some of the tastiest vittles you’ve ever seen and Timmy does a mean James Dean in the front of the house.

To clarify, that’s James Dean, the late actor, not Jimmy Dean of sausage fame, which may confuse some readers based upon previous sausage reference.

Copyright 2009