My Kind Of Town

"Hi, Quonset.  Can I talk to you about something...?"

"Sure, Don!  What is it?"

"I need to get away for the weekend... sort of a mini-vacation, I s'pose.  Can you recommend a nice place?"

"Funny you should ask!  I just got back from up down by Prunedale area, and had myself a HECK of a time!  Don, if I know you- I think you'd like Prunedale just fine."

"I don't know...  I'm a sensitive man and I think I would want something a little more friendly than Prunedale..."

"Don- say no more.  I know just the place...  just close those baby-blues of yours and picture...  COPPEROPOLIS."














"Boy, that's a mouthful."

"That's what SHE said!"

"Who?"

"My mother-in-law."

"...your mother-in-law...?"

























"Yeah, she was just asking about fancy towns to visit and so I told her about COPPEROPOLIS."

"Gee, Quonset... I don't mean to be such a cantankerous old huff, but I guess I was looking for something a little more...  old-fashioned, if ya catch my drift."

























"Don- consider your drift CAUGHT because I've got JUST the place.  Close those cute little baby bunny-rabbit blues of yours and picture this little slice of heaven- PUMPKIN CENTER."

"Quonset, as much as I love PUMPKIN CENTER- and I do...  I just want something more... well, more RURAL."

"Shoot, Don!  Why didn't ya say so!  Try Loomis- you'll thank me Monday morning!"

"Loomis, huh?....  Hmmm...."

Later that weekend...





"Boy, Quonset sure was right about Loomis!  This is my kind of town!  C'mon, guys- let's go see the sights!"

The Font Man: Part 3

...Continued from Part 2.

This installment is brought to you by the
7th Most Attractive, yet very humble-
Sophie Kipner.




Relieved he was now not to have to use Comic Sans, as indicated by the door post, Bryan swept a sigh of relief across his face with the back of his hand.  But Arial, he thought.  Why she would use the font he had been in LOVE with for years before Helvetica was an astounding mess of delusion so complex and interweaved with hatred he could barely swallow at the thought of it.  He had taken refuge in Vicodin after his split from Arial.  He consumed her to the point of identifying himself with her slants and narrow style, but that point was also to sickness.  Every woman he met would fit into her style or else he couldn't really see them clearly.  Font glasses.  His parents staged an intervention but he ended up just transferring his propensity towards OCD onto other fonts.  That's when he started calling his girlfriends Helvetica.  Same pleasure from the affiliation with a font, but never a mention of Arial.  It was too painful. 

Caught now between a backstory and a future of calligraphic possibilities, Bryan was frozen stiff.  His legs parted hip-distance apart, angled awkwardly outward, in the middle of the doorway after he saw the sign.  He looked down at his feet so long he started to lose his balance and fell backwards.  Wobbling first, then falling quickly with a loud bang, disturbing his co-workers.  Nothing unusual, they thought.  "Bryan with a Y in Helvetica- weirdo!", they'd say to each other after a snide laugh.

His vision faded but his spell was broken when he awoke to a nurse calling out his name.  Tapping the right side of his head as if to ascertain the whereabouts of its contents.  As she spoke, something enormously unusual happened.  Bryan blinked his eyes, wondering if it was a dream.  As she opened her mouth, instead of hearing the sounds, he could see the letters spill out of her mouth and bounce through the air... all in the neat and round and equal font he recognized.  "What's your name?", he asked the nurse. 

"Verdana."

 

My Collie & Me

"This is Quinn. He's my Collie, but more importantly- he's my best friend."

"Quinn's a long-hair and his beauty is only matched by his temperament.  Before Quinn came into my life I was heading down a rocky road... and I don't mean ICE CREAM!  But, seriously...  Things were getting pretty... HECTIC for a while there..."

"He's my rock, my companion, my sweet gentle beast.  He's just an old soul."

"I just hang out with her because I feel sorry for her."

The Name Game

"Psst!  Angel, are you awake?"

"Wake up, sweet cherub..."

"Oh, honey... this is no time for your sweet angel-games...  Open your peepers, you old mother rabbit..."

"Night-terrors again?"

"You old greyhound...  I just can't get any dern sleep until we decide on a name..."

"I thought we went over this already, bumpkin-boo..."

"...if it's a girl, it's Cassie-Lynne- with an 'E'... and if it's a boy, it's Dakota Tristann- with 2 'N's."

"*sigh*...  Hon... those names are terrible.  He'll get beat up for something like that...  you might as well call him...  'Trapezoid' or 'Book-humper'..."

"Fine, then what's your grand idea, mister so and so?"

"Well, we'd have to name him something classy, yet refined...  strong, yet tough... classic, yet... timeless..."

"...something like...   WINCHESTER..."

*sigh*

"I don't know...  that reminds me of a gun or something..."

"Cherub, that's the POINT!  Ugh!"

"Well, do you have any other ideas?"

"Hmm...   what...  about..."

"...Radford!"

"...yeah, and his middle name can be 'DRIVE'..."

"...yeahhhh!  Get 'em, Radford!  GET 'EM!"

"What if it's a girl?"

"I don't want our daughter to be named after some sort of street..."

"Fine, we could spell her middle name with a 'Y' to differentiate..."

"Why does every conversation about our child's name end up being some kind of weird gun fantasy?  I'm willing to meet you half way...  You want something a little more tough... with a little more street-cred... okay, I can respect that.  What about D'Artagnan?"

"NO."

"Listen, angel-food...  I think we should respect the BABY'S wishes... maybe try asking him what HE wants...  hmm?"

"Well, that only seems fair, I guess...   Go on, ask her..."

"Uh-huh, uh-huh...  what?  Oh, mm-hmm, mm-hmm...  Ahh, I see...  Okay."

"Well, that settles that.  Good night, sweet cherub."

"Well, what did she say?!"

"HE.  HE said that HE wants HIS name to be 'Man-At-Arms'.  So, there ya go."

"What the heck is a 'Man-At-Arms'?!"

"THIS!  This is 'Man-At-Arms'.  I love you angel, but you can be pretty ignorant sometimes..."

"The one with the bangs and the pink vest?"

"No, you clod!  The one with the sweet 'stache!"

"Well, if that's what he wants... I guess it's settled then.  Could you get the light, hon?"

"Sure thing."

"Goodnight, special angel."

"Goodnight, bear."