Theirs was a New York love...

[Bob]

https://www.sjsu.edu/faculty/scott.rice/blfc2008.htm

[concerto_love]

aaw.....   

[pianistimo]

bob, you have suddenly become more expressive in your pick of signatures.  however, the farm animals are now real live people in georgia. russia is packing a punch and moving towards tiblisi.  democracy of the world is being threatened.  for real.  and this is real communism.

ok.  anyways - the passion for writing is definately in the winner.  the runner up is definately a runner -up in writing style.  divides four words with a paragraph (do i do that?).  i want to win one of these things someday.  what's the prize?

once i got into a poetry anthology.  they never paid me any money.

[Bob]

I enjoy bad writing.  What can I say?

[pianistimo]

try www.onlinestories.net  - that'll leave you on the floor with laughter - if you read their sci-fi.  excuse any stories with bad language or whatever.

i can't help but think of 'rear view window' or 'rear window' - the old movie with grace kelly and what's his name.  a new york love - where everyone can see in everyone's window.  why isn't love private anymore's?  like on the prarie.  with miles of prarie dogs and that's it. 

ok.  i admit.  an assortment of 'zappos' shoes and a few faux furs - pretty dresses, places to go.  but, frankly, after one day - i'd be tired of it.  it's all about money and prestige, fashion, intruiege.  and, well, the fashion can be kinda strange.  look at the latest styles and you see these clothes put together like someone shut their eyes and just pieced on ripped clothing.  does this make one look good?  i love the 'i love lucy' show where she wears a lampshade on her head in nyc.

ok.  there's some movie with audrey hepburn and clark gable, too.  now which one was that?  wait.  no - it was cary grant and audrey hepburn.  did you know cary grants real name was archibald alexander leach.  good thing he changed his name to fit his face. 

[Bob]

I remember another news article about bad writing.  "The tension in the air was thick, like pea soup, but the kind you might get in New York, not Boston pea soup."

[pianistimo]

the last thing i read in reader's digest was about criminals who arrange it so noone is aware that a crime has taken place. this is the story:

last year a german psychologist was accused of taking advantage of three of his patients.  he had sex with one, whose name was kathrin; he convinced another, finja to buy him some shoes; and he conned the third, leonie, into cleaning his house and paying for his vacations.  this all came to light when a fourth patient, monika, became suspicious and called the police.  why would she do that when the three victims hadn't?  because the four are one person:  kathrin, finja, and leonie are monika's multiple personalities.  when monika confronted the psychologist, he refused to discuss the matter, saying it would violate therapist-client confidentiality, something he owed all his clients, including alter egos.

i just remember reading that the first time and thinking it was a joke in the joke column.

[pianistimo]

theirs was a new york love...is a very intreguing title, though.  hmmm.  if i were to write one that started like that i'd model it sort of between the styles of pearl s. buck and danielle steele.  they'd be immigrants - but somehow come into big money.  maybe buying a house that had money stuffed into the walls during the depression.

recently, a new york man that bought a home in portugal found that the barn was filled with antique cars.  here's the story:

https://www.oldcarsweekly.com/article/Portuguese_Barn_Find_Too_Good_to_be_True/

i think very simple things are beautiful.  there are things that can turn into pictures in your mind.  at a concert i witnessed a couple of grandparents and three children.  the grandfather had the seven year old sit near him.  then the grandmother sat down with the four year old with hands around her neck and half sitting on one side.  there was only three inches left.  the teen daughter, i was expecting, was going to sit only four inchs on the other side of them because a one inch piece of wood was dividing this wooden bench from the next one - making it a total of a four inch distance.  instead she started to sit down at the three inch area.  i was totally in shock.  the grandmother scooted over, the grandfather scooted over, and the seven year old was slightly smushed - but they all fit into the area and proceeded to stay there the entire concert that way.

[Bob]

Theirs was a New York love...

He was a strapping young buck, the kind you might see displayed above a fireplace.  She had the eyes of doe (not literally), just like the wide eyes you might see in the deer you hit, bouncing off your windshield.  She looked up at him with eyes as big as a potato.

Actually that's more like a deer lovestory instead of New York.

[pianistimo]

that's pretty good bob.  keep on going.  i want to read the rest.

because my husband and i both come from middle-class - it would be hard to write something in comparison to a new yorker magazine.  the first time i went into new york - i kept gaping at the bridges.  that's something a real new yorker would just take forgranted.  and then, you turn your attention to the skyscrapers.  can't imagine what some of them look like inside.  i've been to las vegas for conventions and all - but new york- that's something different.

[pianistimo]

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[goldentone]

That's funny that Snoopy's "It was a dark and stormy night" opening that he started many times was taken from Edward Bulwer-Lytton.

[pianistimo]

good catch on that one!  hmmm.  all one needs is a good opening line then?

[Bob]

I went to the bottom to see the new post.  Saw pianistimo's.  Then I scrolled up.  Then I scrolled up. Then I scrolled up. Then I scrolled up. Then I scrolled up. Then I got past pianistimo's posts. Wow. 

I can't type that much.  This is all I got.






...She was a pre-school teacher turned lawyer.  She had paid her dues in the trenches and knew how to answer a persistent line of "Why?" questioning.  Why?  Because, that's why.

[pianistimo]

i like it bob.  say...i decided to shorten the story.  it is now four paragraphs of dots.  the first thing a writer should always do.  edit.  big time. 

ok.  bob, your turn. 

[Bob]

Why did you write all that?  Haha. 


He looked at her.  She looked him.  The dog looked at them both because it had to go out.  Now.

Since they lived in separate high rise buildings facing each other, they discovered they could pass notes back and forth over the connecting laundry line.  Woe to the passerby below when they discovered they could also pass the dog over the same line, thus negating the need to actually take the dog all the way downstairs in order for it to go out. 

[pianistimo]

insomnia.

bob, you are very creative.  but, you are not finishing your stories.  i did finish mine.  however it was too long.

[Bob]

Theirs was a New York love.  It was quick.

The end.



There.  That one's finished.






Theirs was New York love.  "Oh ja!" said Sven.


And that one is just Finnish.  I think.

[Bob]

All right.  I know.  Give me the next part. 

[Bob]

Theirs was a New York love... It went a lot faster than was posted and it was a full of potholes along the way and if you weren't careful you could crack an axle on those potholes.

[pianistimo]

ok-ay.  hmm. bob.  a little more romance - a little less on the potholes.  this is beginning to sound bumpy.  i liked the deer story.  can you finish that one?

[rc]

I rate this thread:  Grrrreat!

[Bob]

Theirs was a New York love...

He was a strapping young buck, the kind you might see displayed above a fireplace.  She had the eyes of doe (not literally), just like the wide eyes you might see in the deer you hit, bouncing off your windshield.  She looked up at him with eyes as big as a potato.

Actually that's more like a deer lovestory instead of New York.

He looked down at her.  "You're eyes are as big as a potato." 

She was confusified, "The better to see you with?"

"It's really freaking me out."

"Oh.  Sorry?"

"Don't worry about it," he said and started wondering about that tail now too.

[goldentone]

Theirs was a New York love. . .

In a time when romance scarcely breathed; in an age where love dared never
rhyme.  When skyscrapers were the measure of all things, and all but
ruled the windswept and the wishful.

Two pianists they were, unknown to each, yet not far from music's reach.
Two souls they were, sounding hearts--a Steinway hers, a Fazioli his.
Until a Manhattan breeze improv. . .

 

[concerto_love]

muahahahahahahah!!!  COOOLL!!!!!

[morningstar]

Hahaha you guys are geniuses! if the stories were appreciable length you could go in to business as writers or something. Don't let me interrupt you though, please continue

[pianistimo]

....it had all the improbability and occasionally frequent dissonance
of peppermint ice-cream and peach sorbet
not that i favor a steinway over a faziloi or visa-versa
but the improv stopped people from talking

excepting the two, on stage
who had never met before
unless there had been ...
a competition (of sorts).

there they were - like mason and hamelin
excepting more like ira and george (maintaining a discussion whilst playing)
although they were playing strictly
classical.

they would take a theme and then make it
slide into improbable and back again.
they were able - with slight of hand - to
make duets sound like solos.

this was a new york love.
they were a pair - a pair of lunatics
alone and yet together for this brief moment
of fame.

[morningstar]

....it had all the improbability and occasionally frequent dissonance
of peppermint ice-cream and peach sorbet
not that i favor a steinway over a faziloi or visa-versa
but the improv stopped people from talking

excepting the two, on stage
who had never met before
unless there had been ...
a competition (of sorts).

there they were - like mason and hamelin
excepting more like ira and george (maintaining a discussion whilst playing)
although they were playing strictly
classical.

they would take a theme and then make it
slide into improbable and back again.
they were able - with slight of hand - to
make duets sound like solos.

this was a new york love.
they were a pair - a pair of lunatics
alone and yet together for this brief moment
of fame.

OK good... It sounds kinda like a poem, is that what you were after?

[Bob]

He went on...

"Alone and yet together...
Apart, but also near...
Near, but oh so far...
Like the moon and the sun..."

"You're just putting opposites together.  Stop that."  She said.

"No I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"All right.  Maybe I am.  I can't rhyme like that....
Like chocolate and vanilla...
Like ham and eggs...
Like butter and toast...
Now I'm all hungry."

He said.


He went on, "Whilst...
"Whilst?" she inquired.  "Who uses 'whilst' anymore?  That's like... Old English or something."
"I do."
"You do?"
"Yes, I use whilst.  I use whilst all the time in fact."
"Since when?"
"I've always used whilst.  Whilst whilst whilst.  See?"
"I do."
"Don't roll your eyes at me... woman!"
"Don't call me 'woman.'"
He went on, ignoring her, "Whilst," he puased and looked at her.  She rolled her eyes. "Whilst in the valley of the setting sun and the moon shone down..."
"Now you sound like the Hobbit book, Mr. Tolkien," she interrupted.
"May I finish?"
"All right.  All right.  Go on.  Sound like a Hobbit if you want, for all I care.  You and you're whilsting and hobbit talk."
He continued, "Whilst..."
She interrupted, "You know, you do have hairy feet like a hobbit."
He was quiet.  "I think I should like some toast now.  With butter."
"Butter?"  She raised an eyebrow.
"Yes.  Butter."
"Oh."
"Mmmhmmm."
And then they both turned and looked at Bob who was wondering what the heck these two characters were talking about.  And then they looked out at the people who are reading this thread.

[morningstar]

He went on...

"Alone and yet together...
Apart, but also near...
Near, but oh so far...
Like the moon and the sun..."

"You're just putting opposites together.  Stop that."  She said.

"No I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"All right.  Maybe I am.  I can't rhyme like that....
Like chocolate and vanilla...
Like ham and eggs...
Like butter and toast...
Now I'm all hungry."

He said.


He went on, "Whilst...
"Whilst?" she inquired.  "Who uses 'whilst' anymore?  That's like... Old English or something."
"I do."
"You do?"
"Yes, I use whilst.  I use whilst all the time in fact."
"Since when?"
"I've always used whilst.  Whilst whilst whilst.  See?"
"I do."
"Don't roll your eyes at me... woman!"
"Don't call me 'woman.'"
He went on, ignoring her, "Whilst," he puased and looked at her.  She rolled her eyes. "Whilst in the valley of the setting sun and the moon shone down..."
"Now you sound like the Hobbit book, Mr. Tolkien," she interrupted.
"May I finish?"
"All right.  All right.  Go on.  Sound like a Hobbit if you want, for all I care.  You and you're whilsting and hobbit talk."
He continued, "Whilst..."
She interrupted, "You know, you do have hairy feet like a hobbit."
He was quiet.  "I think I should like some toast now.  With butter."
"Butter?"  She raised an eyebrow.
"Yes.  Butter."
"Oh."
"Mmmhmmm."
And then they both turned and looked at Bob who was wondering what the heck these two characters were talking about.  And then they looked out at the people who are reading this thread.

Very random... but much longer kudos!

[Bob]

"Quite," he turned and said.