storeeze

“This is it?” asked Charline. “The map showed just beyond Fox Park,” replied Charlie. “Are you sure?” “Heard about it from a friend.” Unnoticed and unobserved in the swirling snow, Charlie and Charline stepped around a pile of rubbish in front of a snow-capped warehouse in Old Soulard. The heavy iron door clanged open to a large glowing cavern. Condom on Your Tongue boomed from the walls. Nude models in body paint roamed the floor, stirring the pot for the grand opening of Naughty Gras. Charlie gestured. "Now this is what I’ve been talking about.” “Why don’t we just leave?” “Yours?” “Oooooh no. We can stay here, I suppose. I have a treat for you,” taking off her coat and gloves. “Dang! I’m shocked by what you can fit in a Winslet!” “ You don’t like it?” “No, you look sexy. Can you breathe?” “Barely.” Four hundred revelers had flocked to the bacchanal, away from the veil of everyday life: sexy art and sensual costumes, a urinal crafted from a female figure, an eye staring out fro...

“We take this action not for the purpose of expanding the war into Cambodia, but for the purpose of ending the war in Vietnam and winning the just peace we all desire.” —President Richard M. Nixon, Address to the Nation on the Situation in Southeast Asia (April 30, 1970) Out in the boonies, away from the gaiety of modern life, one perilous day bred another in Vietnam, a confused and horrible country that I had zero interest in. Imagine my delight, my joy, when Capt. Martinez interviewed me for a job I never saw coming. I listened attentively: “Sgt. Barclay is going back to the world. We like your background, McClish. You’re high on our list. You can be the new company clerk if you want it and think you can handle it.” What would life be without fetid water, oppressive heat and rain, random bouts of violence, maddening insects, flies everywhere, loathsome diseases, and beefy loads?  “I, uhm, think I want the job. Yes, Captain. Yes, sir!” I tossed my trusty M79 grenade launcher, Cla...

My wife Babs heard about a history professor at the University of Minnesota who crafted wine cabinets, and thought it would be the perfect birthday present for me. We saw him one evening to pick the style, wood, and finish. A month later we brought the finished cabinet home in the back seat of the car. We were so impressed we decided to have a dinner party for it. Babs invited the professor, her shrink Paul Arnold, and his wife June. I brought the menu to Haskell's, a fashionable wine dealer, and came away with nine bottles and precisely when to drink them during the meal. The christening came on a warmish evening, beginning with Weingut Muller Privat Rheinriesling Spatlese.  Chateau Thivin Cote de Brouilly, was uncorked when Paul and Babs went to the kitchen. The professor sampled the rogue bleu while he stared at the Girl with Red Chair, Brick Wall, hanging over the fireplace: “She has a beautiful little body, hasn’t she?” June leaned in, wearing a clingy red jersey knit. “You sh...

She came in the rain offering a ride, hair wet  the day I left Vietnam. “Get in, I've been expecting you.” We rode on, smoked cigarettes. Someone in back was sleeping. She stopped in the long green grass, clasped my wrist, and crowned my lips— “The thirteenth part has run.”

I don’t even think they know where they’re goin’.  What are they tryin’ to prove, anyway? —The Wild Ones (1953) You know how every neighborhood has an eccentric? When I slipped my Harley up Richie’s drive on a wonderfully hot Saturday afternoon, he was sitting on his bed surrounded by clothes and boxes. It was one of those wacky Saturdays where the sight of Richie sleeping in would cause his father Ollie to turn purple and thrust a finger in Richie’s face: “Goddammit Richard, you'll be out of my house by six o’clock tonight, I GAR-UN-FUCK-N-TEE!” and dump the contents of Richie’s bedroom into the drive. “Where’s Ollie?” I asked. Richie sighed, “They’re at the Hub.” We got it back into his room—the heat didn’t help—and cracked open a couple of Ollie’s cold ones. We’d been in crises since Alan frosted us with the Angels: I like his sister. Yeah, fourteen. She doesn't look it. What do you see in these Angels girls? They're still in high school and you ain't even finger-fuc...

Subject: My calls with Kim today. Sandy handed me my morning latte with a note to call the Gateway Shelter. Kim answered. She told me she was uncomfortable and getting a COVID test today because there was a potential outbreak at the shelter and she wanted to see her grandchildren. “That’s scary,” I replied. “Only three residents [out of 50] wear masks.” I sipped my latte and asked her whether the staff wore masks. She said yes, they do, but at every other job she had during COVID, the workplace was much safer—lots of cleaning and sanitizing, masks and headgear. These precautions aren’t taken at Gateway. Kim has elderly relatives and other family members with compromised immune systems. Her daughter was scared. I propped my feet up and asked her if there were other issues. Kim’s sister is also a social worker. They had a conference call with another friend to discuss the issues at the shelter. Kim mentioned general cleanliness. “One morning I wasn’t even on the clock when I was ordered ...