website, blog and vanity nexus of writer R F Brown

Posts tagged ‘deaths’

THE SOUL IN STUFF – flash essay by RF Brown

cabinet.rfbrown

When you lose your mother but you inherit a headache. My thoughts on grief and “things” in a flash essay appears in Variety Pack, Issue 1: http://www.Varietypack.net

Before my mother died from a long cancer struggle she had many infirm months to reckon the future of family heirlooms. My husband and I traveled across the country to Colorado for the last goodbye, and after Mom’s memorial we had to solve getting our assigned heirlooms home to Rhode Island…. https://varietypack.net/issue-i/

 

 

REBLOG: CLAYTON DIGGS HEMINGWAY, RECALLING THE DEATH OF MACHISMO

link: http://claytondiggs.wordpress.com/2012/05/26/ernest-hemingway-hard-living-and-sharks/

Ernest Hemingway, Hard Living, and Sharks

by claytondiggs

You ever sit just sit around and think about Ernest Hemingway? We’re coming up on the 51st anniversary of Hemingway’s death, and it got me thinking. Isn’t it kind of weird that we remember him on the day he died? I mean, remember how he died? He grabbed a shotgun and shot himself in the face, decades before Kurt Cobain thought of it. You know what else? His wife was in the house and she was the one who found him.

That must have sucked it.

You see, for months and months, maybe even years, old Ernie was convinced that the Feds were tapping his phone, bugging his house, and basically driving him nuts, and nobody believed him. They just thought all the years of scotch and sodas were taking their toll. Eventually, he couldn’t take it; not the feeling of being hunted like an animal, and probably not the feeling of everyone thinking he was batshit. He actually tried to off himself several times before he bought the farm. He also spent time in a mental institution. And you know the worst of it? Turns out the Feds were tapping his phone, bugging his house, and driving him nuts. The fuckers!

See, that’ s not really how I want to remember Hemingway, as an old guy, kind of fat, full of regrets, telling anyone who would listen that the government was trying to get him. I grew up reading his stuff. I love The Sun Also Rises. Those people in the book are screwed up, big time, but I’d still like to hang out with them, have some wine, some more wine, more wine, fall down, see a bullfight, get in a fight, and go fishing. Hell, you substitute bourbon for wine, that pretty much describes my youth. Oh, and Brett Ashley? Apart from having a dude’s first name for a last name, hottest woman in literature.

Thanks, Papa Hemingway!

I like to remember all the times Hemingway probably should have done himself in (accidentally) but made it through. I once read this book about him and there was a rundown of all the accidents he suffered during his life. It was like two damn pages long, and included: two plane crashes, two car accidents, bringing a skylight down on his head by mistaking its rope for the toilet chain, breaking his foot kicking a door in anger, and (my favorite) shooting himself in the leg while trying to gaff a shark. (If you want the full list, check out the bookIntellectuals, by Paul Johnson.) Hell in ‘tarnation, that’s my kind of boy. You think he was drinking a lot to have that much bad luck? He was. He was putting down 17 scotch and sodas a day and going to bed with a bottle of champagne (he often wasn’t going to bed alone, so you’ve got to wonder about what else that champagne bottle might have been for). Anyway, point is, for years and years the son of bitch did a bunch of stuff that by all rights should have ended in a funeral, but didn’t. He was this tough bastard who drank and hunted and boxed and fucked.

So that’s how I like to remember him. I know, in the end his fucked-up, self-destructive side took over, but why dwell on the last chapter of his life? Look, we’re all going to end up six feet under eventually, so let’s remember him like he was in his glory days. The hell with the day he killed himself. I’d rather think of old Hem on the day he shot himself in the leg trying to gaff a shark and then had a drink. I think that’s more who he was.

So, here’s to you, Ernie. You weren’t a perfect human being, but you sure were cool.

Thinking of Hemingway makes me thirsty. Want another great way to remember Hemingway? I once heard that he’s the guy responsible for making daiquiris popular in the States. Don’t know if it’s totally true, but here’s a good daiquiri recipe just in case:

Hemingway’s Daiquiri:

  • A fat shot of white rum
  • Juice of 1 lime
  • 1 tsp maraschino juice
  • A little bit of grapefruit juice
  • Some sugar
  • Ice
  • A gaffing hook
  • A shark
  • A gun

Stick all the very fine, good, clean, bright shit into a shaker with ice and shake until your hands sting. Serve in a highball on the rocks. Chase with some rum or bourbon. Then gaff the shark and shoot yourself in the leg. Avoid medical treatment because you’re a tough bastard. Have another daiquiri and some more rum. Cheers, friends!

“I am manly. I damage myself almost constantly. Pass the Scope. I’m thirsty!”

FBI Investigated Sabotage Threat In Plane Crash That Killed Senator Paul Wellstone

What’s with all the redacted pages over a small plane crash blamed on pilot error in 2002?

link- Revealed: FBI investigated claim that group threatened de-icing equipment when probing crash that killed Senator Wellstone | Raw Story.

Tom Bosley,TVs Howard Cunningham, 83 -RIP

 

Bosley on Happy Days

 

Tom Bosley, best known for his tv role as Howard Cunningham on Happy Days, 1974-1984, is no longer coming down for breakfast.

Bosley was a veteran stage actor, he won a Tony award in 1959 for the musical Fiorello! He is familiar to most people from television on Happy Days, Murder She Wrote, Father Dowling Mysteries, and TV commercials and infomercials in which he mostly played Tom Bosley.  I recall for a time people also confused him with the late actor David Doyle, although I never did.

 

People always mixed up Bosley and Doyle. I still don't see it.

 

Happy Days is one of those shows I watched religiously in childhood and now I recognize that all but the first season sucked.  The original idea was borrowed wholesale from the movie American Grafitti, including the staring actor Ron Howard.  They first shot Happy Days on film, with some pretty daring story lines for a prime time sitcom.  The second season they went to multi camera video, brought in a jovial studio audience, scrubbed a major character from everybody’s memory (lost brother Chuck), and flipped the Cunningham household set around so that the front door was on the right.  I guess a door on that side was much less controversial, but not any funnier.  The show was never the same again for ten irratating seasons.

However, Tom Bosley was a funny actor, and, I gather, a charitable person.  RIP.

link:  CBC News – Television – Happy Days actor Tom Bosley dies.