Sunday, November 6, 2016
HDamato who actually lives on a Maple Street. She did not seem very particular what sort of card she wanted. My wife and I both liked this postcard for the dog on it. I don't think I write postcards directly for people very often, but with the maple street address I could only think about Twilight Zone.
The Monsters are Due on Maple Street
I wonder if The Hunt would still be my favorite if I rewatched the series? I suppose I have homework now.
My family especially my brother and I have lived lieves that have been shaped ever so slightly by repeated twilight zone marathons on the SciFi network. One of them, a classic, "The Monsters are Due on Maple Street" my brother assembled a lesson pan to explor its meanings and themes. - My favorite episode is "The Hunt". A man wakes up next to a pond after jumping in to have his dog. He slowly realizes he and his hound dog are dead and walking along a road for eternity. I'd hate to ruin the episode in case you haven't seen it but it made me appreciate dogs a bit more. It also made me think that both heaven and hell might be kinda creepy but the journey or walk to either of them might not be so long as I had a dog with me. -T.M.
“Earl Grey” US-4302324
Flavor Text: A magnificent view of Portland, Oregon. Mount Hood is seen from Washington Park Rose Gardens. Photo: Ken Vermillion
I can’t drink Earl Grey tea. When I was younger I remember one evening watching TV with my cousin. I did not put it together why my grandmother put a large cake sized Tupperware next to him while he laid on the couch. “He did not feel good” I was told. My grandmother and aunt made him some toast (which always seemed to come out burned or so completely always desiccated as to be utterly unappetizing) and cup after cup of earl grey tea. Which he was encouraged to drink. When my cousin started vomiting, I remember watching him for a moment. The puke shot out from him like a geyser. Slowly he started to fill the Tupperware with a liquid that bore the same color, consistency, and smell of all those mugs of earl grey they were forcing in him. I silently walked to the kitchen and told my Aunt and Grandmother that Eric was throwing up. I had interrupted a quiet conversation they were having. “We know.” They both said softly. They did not get up. They did not say anything else. I immediately associated earl grey tea with something that makes people vomit…on purpose. To this day I can’t drink earl grey tea and every time Jean Luc Picard drank it I associated it with half-filled Tupperware of cloudy brown emesis. -TM
Transcribed by jjwood687 on Fiverr.Sent via postcrossing to MicSeb who likes flowers, pictures from where I live, landscapes, and photography. Boom. This postcard is pretty nifty view. I will actually have to try and visit this place. There is a part that makes me think I have already written this story. Oh well. I like this version.
So here is the finale of the Cold series. I suppose I should type it all up so it is in one flowing story that could be read. I don't think I will do that today. I will come back to this entry and amend it with the completed written version of it.
Dat postcard tho. I found it at a recent estate sale. So fucking haunting. A beautiful degree of damage and weathering. It's so perfect for the series. I love it and I was so happy that I was able to put something great on it and send it on another trip. The card is over 100 years old. Which just blows my goddamned mind.
Yes, that is my address if you are reading and would like to send me something or start a correspondence.
Cold #9. US-4308092
Flavor Text: INTERIOR VIEW CHAPEL OF THE TRANSFIGURATION
Worshipers in the Chapel of the Transfiguration have an inspiring view through a spacious plate glass window, framing lofty Grand Teton Peak which rises to an elevation of 13,766 feet.
The strength and pull of the river upon me was inexhaustible. I fought to reopen my swollen eyes the outstretched hand was still there waiting. I swung my hand around blindly hoping they would close the missing distance but instead I was drowning deep sputtering gulps of water that sought to occupy all the spaces within me. Cold, angry water that would rather be frozen. I bolstered myself on the cracking ice. I opened my eyes again hoping the hand was still there I pushed hard with all my strength, force, a power I knew to be any resources I had remaining if the hand was not there at its acme I knew I would be back in the river. My eyes opened at the crest of my push and there it was…the hand. Unwavering. I had to take it. I reached up and felt the backside of the crest. I was slipping back. I took the hand closing my fingers around the warmth. The hope. I exhaled and felt my body shift under the ice. I gazed at the person whose hand I possessed. It was her. I tried to pull my hand back but there was no longer any separation. We were one.
Transcribed by jjwood687 on Fiverr.
So I figured I would finish off my Cold series. It has been sitting around for a long time. I really wanted to finish it off on this last card but once again...it refused to fit comfortably. So it requires another post.