"What To Leave In And What To Leave Out!"

Peggy Sketch#2

 Good "Workout" Wednesday Morning, y'all.

Was invited to attend a sketching class yesterday evening with some friends, but inertia got the best of me after a doctor's appointment.

So, I decided to post this "doctored" ( on Photoshop! ) prismacolor sketch that was a preliminary study for a painting I'm currently working on.

And yes, the age old question is, what to leave in and what to leave out...

First cup, y'all.

Copyright 2022/Ben Bensen III

"One Hell Of A Sermon!"

There's another one somewhere in Montana!

 Good “wrasslin’ Wednesday, all bodies.

When I arrived, Badass was sitting by himself. His buddies, Herb Galloway and Tom Burns was ensconced in our normal sitting area talking cattle… like they always do. Larry didn’t wanna impose, he said.

As we so often do, old Badass drifts into theology with me. I think he’s trying to save me before he kicks the bucket. Today, Larry gets the lowdown on his health and although he says, “it don’t mean nuthin’“, I know it does.

Because one of Larry's pet peeves is priests preaching about things they don't know, I proceeded to aggravate and distract him by asking to explain the difference between priests and pastors being ignorant of real people and how they live their life, or are they being just plain stupid.

Analogies abound, but...

“Although, when we was younger, me and my buddy were at Mass at St. Peter’s in Covington and this man started to nod off,” he said.

“Mustah been one boring ass sermon,” I replied.

“No, he said. The guy, who was sitting between me and my buddy, slid into my friend’s shoulder and he didn’t know what to do, so he pushed the man’s head over toward me and my shoulder!

“Freaked me out 'cuz that man was out cold,” Larry said.

“Aw, c’mon now, man,” I replied. “He stayed there on your shoulder through the entire rest of the Mass?”

“No, we called a priest to come check on the guy. We were nervous that someone would think we killed him... Or sumpthin.”

“And, that priest checked the man out and declared that, indeed, he was dead!” Must have had a heart attack right there in church,” he said.

“Now, Badass continues with a laugh, that’s a priest that knows the difference from being ignorant or being just plain stupid!”

Playing along as best as I could, I replied,"In that case, it mustah been one HELL of a sermon!”

I know, I know, but just couldn’t help myself…

No cups, yet!

Copyright 2022/ Ben Bensen III

"Documented In A Sketch!"

Weighing All The Possibilities...

Lots of errands to run after I truck on over to Harahan this morning. Yesterday, I spent most of the day working in the studio. I opened one of the Venetian blinds in one of the four windows and the entire system came apart in a tangled mess.

Low bid...

On Saturday, in an effort to keep with my PT's wishes, I returned to my local gym, Anytime Fitness. I haven't been there in over a year for fear that I'd make my spinal concerns worse.

After a light workout, I moseyed over to the gym's old style medical scale. It has never let me down even though for a good while we weren't speaking to each other. Whenever I go with Tee for her doctor appointments, I sneak a peek on one of their scales, but I always have recalculate from kilograms to pounds which I never get right!

Anyway, with no keys, glasses, wallet or pocket change, I weighed in at a nifty 234 pds. I haven't seen my weight this low since I saw a dietician in an effort to get back down to 218 from 234. Unfortunately, along with the weight loss, I believe some of the loss is muscle loss.

With a gym that has therapists and a doctor on board, I feel more confident in resuming some semblance of a long since gone workout routine.

Amen to 'dat?

Yeh, an "Amen to 'dat" and a first cup! 
Copyright 2022/ Ben Bensen III

"The Whiff"...

The "Whiff!"

 Good Wednesday Morning, y'all.

If only the weather would stay this nice... What a beautiful way to start the day and to put the "kibosh" on my final painting for the Abita show. It's entitled, "Heavy Metal Thunder!"

This morning, after showering, I opened the medicine cabinet to get my razor blade and a Wiffle ball fell out.

I know, I know! You're asking what the hell is a Wiffle ball is doing in a medicine cabinet. Oh, the wiffleball stories I could tell. But, I'll just stay with this one since it's the ball our kid played with for many years even after his baseball playing days.

Wikipedia says, "Miniature versions of baseball have been played for decades, including stickball, improvised by children, using everything from rolled up socks to tennis balls. The ball most commonly used in the game was invented by David N. Mullany at his home in Fairfield, Connecticut in 1953[2] when he designed a ball that curved easily for his 12-year-old son. It was named when his son and his friends would refer to a strikeout as a "whiff". The Wiffle Ball is about the same size as a regulation baseball, but is hollow, lightweight, of resilient plastic, and no more than 1/8 inch (3 mm) thick. One half is perforated with eight .75-inch (19 mm) oblong holes; the other half is non-perforated. This construction allows pitchers to throw a tremendous variety of curveballs and risers.

Brian used to take the ball down the block in South Pasadena to his friend, Jeremy MaCauge's home. They'd spend hours on the front lawn trying to strike each other out. The ball, later, took on a new life here in Louisiana where Brian would introduce his pitching style to some of his college buddies.

The ball later sat, for years, in a box along with some other memorabilia. Some things like memories are easier to let go of than others. At the time, not knowing where to put it and not sure I was ready to give it away, I put it up on the top shelf of the medicine cabinet in our guest bathroom thinking that I'd save that decision for later.

I guess I've decided, even though it jumped out at me this morning, that I haven't yet decided!

First cup!

Copyright 2022/Ben Bensen III

" All Is Quiet Up In The Trees, So Far, Except For Him"

 

Good "Aftermath" Monday Morning, y'all.

I trust everyone celebrated the Easter weekend to the fullest. For us, the weekend sure ended with a stormy, stormy night, and I've decided, with a first cup in hand, to check for any early morning damage.

There doesn't seem to be anything major save a few more tree limbs and branches. A stream of water from last night's rain trickles as it dances its way downhill to the culvert out front. Could've sworn I saw trout in there.

With no Pierre to take out in the quiet of the misty dawn, I have been missing the beauty of Spring. Life surely is a double edged sword. All the leaves on the trees are a bright and fresh yellow green. They won't stay that way for long.

Below, are the wildflowers like clover, dandelions and a blue flower that Tee planted in a pot years ago only to escape and participate in Spring's wild enthusiasm.

Very enthusiastic, high up on a cypress tree, is our resident mockingbird. I don't hear or see much of him during the winter, but this morning he's letting loose with all his new riffs much to the disdain of the other birds. All is quiet up in the trees, so far, except for him.

I guess he's just glad to have survived the storm to live another day... Me too!

Second cup, y'all.

Copyright 2022/Ben BensenIII

"I Know Who You Are Talking About... What IS His Name?"

New Orleans pianist, James Booker.

 Good Wednesday Morning, all bodies.

I walked into Russell's Marina yesterday after an appointment with a physical therapist to hear the New Orleans R&B song called,"Something You Got" which was written by Chris Kenner. I found it to be rather fortuitous... and funny.

After giving the doctor all of my information, medical and otherwise, I turned the tables on him by asking him how he became a physical therapist. I groaned when he told me that he went to Jesuit, but from that part on it got interesting...

At least to me!

His first exposure to the medical industry was at Charity Hospital in downtown New Orleans. It was called that for a reason and serviced many of the poorer patients in the city... and some of the greater R&B musicians too.

"Who's that guy that played in Fats Domino's band," he asked.

"Oh man," I replied. I know who you are talking about... What IS his name!"

Shame on me because I never did remember his name and neither did the doctor. The stories abound as I mentioned that my brother-in-law worked for many years as the head of the x-ray department there and had the opportunities to meet so many great musicians there. We could have gone to the local brew pub and continue on. So much fun as I attempted to jog my memory.

Who IS that guy? Toussaint, Fess, Fats, Ernie K-Doe, Larry Gueden, Roy Brown, Frogman Henry, Jesse Hill, Art Neville, Lloyd Price, Booker!, Earl Palmer... Chris Kenner!

Yeh, that's it... Chris Kenner. "Something You Got", "Land Of A Thousand Dances", "I Like It Like That!"

Yeh.. NO! With a fourth cup, it all came to me... Dave Bartholomew!

Second Giddy Up cup!

Copyright 2022/Ben Bensen III

"You Know... Where The Buffaloes Roam And All That Stuff,"

The Famous Montana Hat...

I received a call yesterday morning from Larry Leonard. Well, that's what the phone told me who was calling, but I didn't recognize the voice and the only Larry I knew that might call me was my next door neighbor.

It didn't sound like him.

"Hi, Mr. Ben, this is Larry!"

"Hey there, Larry" I replied.

"Larry who?" I asked.

"Mr. Ben, this is Larry... Badass Larry," he said.

I could tell something was up. Badass has never called me. He got a new flip phone a few months ago and barely knew how to use it. I tried to "edjamacate" him, but he was too embarrassed to learn.

"Hey man, wassup?"

Sniffles in the background made me think about the worse. Larry carried a small 22 caliber pistol on a belt holster next to the belt holster that houses his seldom used flip phone.

Polite as ever, asking me how Therese and I were, he told me that his wife of sixty plus years had passed away earlier in the morning.

Disguising my real sigh of relief, I quickly attempted to share his grief at losing her.

Upon hearing that me Dad has passed away, I felt that same sigh of relief.

"Do you wanna meet at Giddy Up? Is there something I can do to help you out? Please let me help," I begged him.

"No, he said, I just come back from there!"

Talking a bit about arrangements for her funeral, I reminded him that I wanted to be a part of his grief and offered another visit at the coffeehouse if he wanted.

After hanging up the phone, I immediately thought of his beloved cowboy hat. Because I lusted after it, he promised to buy me one when he leaves this all behind and moves to Montana... if his wife passed away before he did.

Seems like every morning, Badass would sit alone with his cinnamon roll and coffee and complain about his life with his wife who suffered for years with Parkinsons. The entire scene is pretty sad, and I'd always do what I could to listen and put a smile on his face.

"Dude, you've got diabetes on top of your Mesothelioma, you cannot be drowning your dreams in cinnamon rolls," I'd say in a "sweet talking" admonishment.

"What about your Montana? You wanna return there, don't you?"

"You know... where the buffaloes roam and all that stuff," I'd say.

"Aw, Ben... it don't matter much, anymore!"

With a "nudge, nudge, wink wink," I'd remind him how I much I needed him to return to Montana to buy me that cowboy hat. Apparently, that's where the hat came from when he was younger and had once visited his newest faraway place.

Defending in a rather befuddled way, he'd tell me about the latest abuse his wife would bestow on him.

"It... it don't matter much. She doesn't know what she's doing!"

I guess we all have a need for that special place here on earth where things are bound to be better. Some dreams do come true. It will be interesting to see if indeed, Badass leaves it all behind and return to the "badlands of Montana"...

And, buy me that hat!

First cup

Copyright 2022/Ben Bensen III