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(from Jazz Notes in the Misty Blue: A Mountain Empire Anthology)

ACR, Pearl Mountain Range -- click for larger view “Foundry Bogs, Mississippi”

by Jeannette Harris

Jobo TN Glory Field Park-- click for larger view Phaedra chose for their walking tour the blue convertible and a rusty red copter from the rental lot. A dime has a mere 118 ridges around the edge, she grouched obscenely. Patty demanded a boy's tricycle in the design of Aunt Joel's unicycle seat.

Oleander chose to serve humanity over-easy. Twenty-eleven soggy leaves of just-picked garden lettuce crashed into the marble patio flooring tile scattering the watermelons against moonbeams driven to perpendicular angels before Jocelyn could stop any of it with her borreyed umpire whistle, because a shark can detect one part of blood in 100 million parts of water and a sneeze will travel out your mouth at over 100 m.p.h. She realized instantaneously how trivial the moment or any negligence or Andean sense might be or could become.

Hal took Isaac's hand and bent gently each finger back to pull the purple polk-dot rawhide bandana down over his furry ears.

Her Number Fourteen "JO" train was only sixty-seven ten hours late pulling into DoHickoryCiao Station on the wrong date in an erroneous year. A pig's orgasm lasts for 30 minutes. "NOT HERE!" pleaded blinking lamps beside every sixth stool and every thirty-seventh loveseat, upholstered or not, by Second Sacred decree of the Ulster of Pembury Down.

Jobo TN Holiday Show-- click for larger view "Where's our marshmallows?" Kerry demanded in a conspiratorial whisper. "Digitized decimals hide surreptiously on every side," LouEllen replied thankfully, kneeling. But a Saudi Arabian woman can get a divorce if her husband doesn't give her coffee.

"DO YOU THINK ANYONE NOTICED?" Milotte screamed, plugging his nose with dandelions and slithering slowly into the whipped cream.

"According to a British law passed in 1845, attempting to commit suicide was a capital offense. Offenders could be hanged for trying," she added, sententiously.

"Real life in the skip-eight century looks like this," Lynn intoned scarily, handing little Deiter a tufted and cushioned monochrome pepperspray kaleidescope on a porcelain pentragonal tray.

"We knew that one," Phil and Gerald yelled in unison from the third and fifth balcony.

Lydia blew her nose, lifting her left foot politely first to rehearse the onion'ed hashbrown Monterrey. "Monserat," she pled weepily. "Or Seurat." Kane thundered into the foreboding omission. Lydia wilted. "I wore pink lace pushup bras," she begged and cried over his rosemaries.

"TROTSKYite!" he screamed into the keylatch now by his big right toe.

"Bikini bows," Stuart stuttered in the throes of a cornpopping jam.

"Jamarama," Jodie sang silkily in her mother's nightgown.

Harriet fed the rabbit cinnamon sticks of authentic imported Parisian liver pate' from Montreal and bathed him in aged Reisling unearthed last week from a slightly cracked cask in the remains of still-moulding Dresden. Grateful chirps emerged from the pointed tips of his long ears.

"I'm just in it for the orange peels," Van testified solemnly by earhair-swear.

"And the wheatgerms," Brenda interjected testily, ripping one out by the root.

"And okra chips,"she added, meanly.




The Play's The Thing

The stage is divided into two-thirds the living room, with usual furniture and table with telephone, and dining room of a suburban house, with the front door at stage left and another door in the back off the livingroom, and one-third stage right a jail with holding cell that turns later into a one-room apartment. Stage left there is also a small area that is the walkway and outside of the house. Lights shine and darken on whichever part of the stage is the one in which a scene is happening.


Guest 1
Guest 2

Lights are on the jail area where a woman is standing barefoot in a thin dress at a metal counter and the dining room where Helen and Gil are giving a small supper party for two guests. The telephone rings. Helen excuses herself with a nod from the dining room table and walks into the living room.

Nell [in a low whisper] : Helen?

Helen: Yeah.

Nell: I need help.

Helen: What's wrong?

Nell: I'm in jail.

Helen: What happened?

Nell: They think I'm someone else.

Helen: I'll be right down.

Nell: Okay.

Helen: Somesby, right?

Nell: Yeah.

The jail scene goes dark as Helen hangs up the telephone and turns toward the front door and dining room. Gil and the guests are laughing at a joke they've just made.

Helen: Gil! Gil!

Gil: Yeah?

Helen: I've gotta go to town.

Gil: Why?

Helen: There's been an accident.

Gil [sitting very still and lowering his voice] : Who?

Helen: Walk me to the car.

Gil also excuses himself from their guests, standing up and walking toward Helen and, taking her arm, walks through the front door with her.

Helen: It's Nell.

Gil: What happened?

Helen: She in jail.

Gil [frowning] : What?

Helen: She says they think she's someone else.

Gil [frowning more deeply] : There's an accident?

Helen: That's an accident.

Gil: [reaching into a pants pocket for his wallet] : Right. You might need some money.

Helen: I might need the deed to the house.

Gil looks confused and is frowning again.

Helen: For bond. Will you got get it so everything won't look too strange?

Gil: That won't look strange?

Helen: It's in the top drawer of the desk upstairs. Say I forgot my pocketbook.

Gil: Okay. Cool.

Helen: Run!

Gil turns back through the front door and passes his guests.

Gil: She forgot her damn pocketbook.

He disappears through the stairway door backstage and the guests murmur with their heads leaning toward each other. Gil reappears in the living room with a large envelope in his hand.

Gil [rushing and turning his head toward the guests]: It's gonna be okay. Not fatal. It's a friend of hers.

He goes through the front door and hands the envelope to Helen.

Helen [opening the envelope and checking to make sure the right papers are there] : Whew! Okay.

Gil: Call me when you know.

Helen: Right.

She walks offstage and he turns back toward the living and dining rooms.

Historic Jobo TN 
Stage Lounge Historic Jobo TN 
Tanasi Tell *********************

Historic Jobo TN Procession Historic Jobo TN Arts Shop

Jobo TN Stage Ballet -- click for larger view Jordan in his pink nylon jacket walked across the room toward her to ask, with the usual undernote of arrogance in his off-key tone of voice, “Would you like to go to the Wednesday night dance here with me?”

Sylvia gulped in long-concealed distaste as if she’d swallowed a potato bug colony and a family of red ants.

“No, thanks,” she answered softly. ”I’ve been looking forward on that night to crawling by myself through 'possum excrement washed down with buzzard vomit. I really appreciate you asking me though.”

The building owner’s oldest son feigned to not have heard her preferences but smiled and nodded too closely by her side throughout the next song played.

(... to be continued....)


finis Jobo TN Cafe Bistro -- click for larger view

ACR Table of Contents -- ACR Up-To-Date Archives

Historic Jobo TN 
Procession ACR Cover

Jazz Notes Cover

Jobo TN Digital Folk Art Village
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Jobo TN Village-In-A-Box


"The way of the Cross is not easy, yet it is the tuneful, the rhythmic, the beautiful, the lovely way."
-- Edgar Cayce, Association for Research and Enlightenment

Original text and graphics c. A Country Rag, Inc. and Jeannette Harris, Jonesborough TN, 2012.