Sinister: mistakes, we've made a few

[boyon abike]

hullo my pretties!

my goodness!!  i leave my computer for about one week and i have over 250 
messages in my in-box.  no doubt, the majority are sinister, probably from 
sinsister, too ;)  hmmm...think it is time to switch to digest?  methinks 
so.
anyhoo, i have never really posted to the list but something of utmost 
mysteriousness and personal interest has occured in my generally not quite 
rock-star life, and so i tell a wee tale.

***slight, insignificant b&s content.  well, honestly, none really***
***warning, sappy frank sinatra content ahead, proceed at your own risk***

once upon a time (today, to be more specific) i was at a "jazz jubilee," 
with my mum.  as our tastes happen to differ a yet [i have not been able to 
convinced her that the divine being (you may insert whichever noun you 
personally prefer here: _______) actually lives among us in traveling about 
on soundwaves which originate from b&s instruments, but she will see the 
light.  my what a rambling...] we decided to split up, with a plan to remeet 
at 5:00, leaving me with two clear choices: a) i could get sloshed off two 
beers. b) i could go wander about a local rare records store, which we had 
passed eariler.  after a moment of contemplation, i decided to take 
morrissey's sound advice: i can have both!  unfortunately, i did the record 
perusement first.  although, the store drew a large zero in the indie 
department, i came across a cache of old frankie sinatra records.  a myriad 
of them (now, it might serve my story well to tell that mr. frank sinatra is 
one of my top loves in the world of music, and i have long longed for a 
vinyl album of his.  not only for the sleek sounds of classsic crooning, but 
- imagine if you will, close your eyes, no not while reading, silly! - a 
large picture of a young, sexy, sulty, felicitous and lovely, morsel 
miraculous and meaningful, francis sinatra--only second to stuart 
murdoch--donning the cover of a large record album.  an album which i could 
very well sleep with under my pillow every night for the rest of my life, or 
at least until the drool causes him to be too indistinguishable and soppy).  
oh if only i could express my extreme joy followed by the sudden and utter 
dismay of the realization that it would cost more than an arm And a leg just 
for one album such as "nice and easy."  after an hour-or-so of telling 
myself i could live without it, i decided to drink more (surely afterwards i 
would not have the same view!).  i wandered around listening to happy old 
folks in big bands, drinking my ale, when i came across a "news and review" 
(a free local events publication).  while perusing said paper i next came 
across the following header (referring to various members of the u.s. 
executive branch):  "Mistakes, We've Made a Few."  it was an omen from the 
stars above.  frankie babie was cooing for me.  but did i run, in my silly 
noisy shoes and wool knickers, through the perilous outdoor mall, dodging 
both old and young, straight for the holy grail o' sound which awaited me 
with a single beam of light from the heaven's above and a glorious wall of 
angelic warbling?  i think you may be able to guess...of course not.  
obviously, god was on my side.  i could dilly-dally all i want.  confident 
in my revelation, i went to a different store on the other side of town.  
not a single sinatra album in descent condition.  poo!  i asked the lad 
behind the counter if he new the time.  it was 4:45, recall if you will, i 
had to meet my mommy at 5:00.  i went to our designated spot and there she 
was joined by my sister with my three-year-old nephew.  we had a long walk 
back to our lightrail station, but luckily the beacon of a record shop was 
on the way, near the end however.  three is the best age for swift 
foot-travel, mind you.  after spending about half an hour looking at a 
fountain, looking at big sousaphones, going up and down escalators (which 
was all more fun than i had even bargained for, of course) i found my store 
to be closed.  to make matters worse, i am only visiting from out of town, 
so it is not as though i could go back tomorrow.  no that would be too easy. 
  only then, at that moment when my ever-so-eager eyes set sight on the 
gated-up old run-down record store, did i realize the true foreshadowing of 
my header.  how could i have been so blind???  now, i sit at my mommy's 
computer in sackcloth and ashes mourning for my blind ignorance.  
mistakes...i made one.  moral:  do not waste time, thinking everything will 
wait for you.  on the other hand, i did pick up a spiffy fred rogers album 
at the other store i was at.  moral: always, look on the bright side...and 
then whistle a happy tune.

ahhh...my tale was told.  i feel whole.  please excuse me, the only person i 
have been shatting with on a regular basis is my grammy, and she is such a 
wonderful story-teller.  it is my secret desire to be a grandmother, but as 
fred rogers told me today:  "only girls can be mommies".  sigh...i suppose 
that goes for grannies too.  oh joy!! (see it is not that hard to keep me 
content)! i also have a brand new b&s mix tape to listen to on my way back 
home.  life is grand, is it not ;)

love to each and every one of you: you're special just the way you are!
edwin
who honestly, hasn't lived up to his coy expectations.  shame on me!!
naughty edwin!  or is it knotty edwin? hmmm...


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