Category Archives: Max

Hotcakes

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Dolores loved Jim’s surprises.

Voicemail: Max, it’s Dolores. Sorry, but I have to cancel for tomorrow. [Excitedly] Jim said to pack an overnight bag; he wants to take me someplace for breakfast! [Even the click of the phone was excited.]

But not always.

Dolores: Really, Jim? A bus? An overnight BUS?

Jim: What? It’ll be fun.

[Grudgingly Dolores boarded the bus. Jim didn’t notice the grudgingly.]

[At breakfast the next morning after the bus arrived.]

Jim: I think you’ll like the pancakes.

Dolores: You’ve lost your ever loving mind if you think I traveled on an overnight bus for pan. cakes.

Jim: But wait. [Reading the menu] Bread pudding style hotcakes. [Her breathe caught.] With white chocolate and almonds. Topped with a cherry sauce.

Dolores: [Nearly trembling. To the waitress, but staring at Jim.] I’ll have the hotcakes.Nookies Hotcakes Chicago Illinois

Dolores always loved Jim’s surprises.

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Jim Manhattan Takes the Compliment

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Voicemail: Hello, Max. It’s Dolores. [Pausing, heavily] Do you have any idea why Jim has been so smug? Call me.

Voicemail: Hey, it’s Max. He thinks the barista is flirting with him. Nothing to worry about.

Earlier that day the barista said to Jim: You always pick the best doughnuts.Mojo Monkey Doughnut

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The World’s Best Bran Muffin

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Dearest Max,

Jim’s sister took us to her favorite patisserie for the world’s best bran muffin. (Jim insists I pause after saying that.)

To her credit, it was the world’s best bran muffin.

Then Jim let her try a bite of his apricot Danish. It seems the world’s best bran muffin is no match for the world’s best apricot Danish. Jim ordered a second round for everyone.

Don’t let the location in the strip mall fool you; you must join us next time.

Ever yours,
Dolores

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Pascal’s Wager and Mojo Monkey

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Minnesota, April 22, 2013

Minnesota, April 22, 2013

My dearest friend Max,

Please forgive me. The (April!) snow on Monday was my fault.

Last week, Jim said he stopped the snow in time for the evening commute by eating a cherry almond doughnut.

I didn’t believe him. I said it was a coincidence.

He was so angry; he refused to eat a doughnut on Monday. You saw the results.

This morning he decided on a key lime Bismarck. You should see the forecast for this weekend, let’s plan a picnic.

Yours truly,
DoloresMojo Monkey Key Lime Donut and the perfect forecast

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The Sidewalk, Part 2: Poetry

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Perhaps it was the Witch’s Hat that cast the final spell: I now seek out poetry.

I never saw that coming. Like many people, I was well into my adulthood and still believed poetry was something to be suffered. My conversion to poetry has been slow. My friend Kara was the first to warm me to the idea of poetry. “What’s not to like? Sixty seconds and you’re done.” That took the fright out of poetry. I didn’t seek it out, but I could approach poetry without suffering.

Then last year, I ran across a poet in one of Portland’s farmers markets. Tristan, using an old fashioned typewriter, would write a poem for you while you shopped. I think poetry perhaps, like vegetables, looks better in the fresh air. But here also was a piece of art that I could afford to commission. I commissioned two poems that spring. Yes, I puffed my chest as I typed that. I commissioned . . . Continue reading →

The Sidewalk, Part 1: Voicemails

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Voicemail: Hey, Max, it’s Jim. Had the best talk with Dolores yesterday. See you Thursday.

Voicemail: [Dolores sighs heavily] Oh, Max, only Jim could answer an open-ended question with a yes or no. [Aloud, to herself] Yet, oddly have it make sense. [Focused, with energy] But my point is I can barely get a peep out of him. Whenever I try . . . [message continues in this vein].

Voicemail: Hi Max. Sorry, my message got cut off. So I was saying . . . oh, wait, before I forget, we’ll see you Thursday?

To be explained . . .

The First Anniversary

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One year ago today I began PFM Reports – the online version. (The family version began a few years earlier as letters home.) I struggled to find what I wanted to say today to celebrate. I thought about lists – My Top 5 [insert topic]. My friend and editor, Max, despite being rather darkly written, nixed the idea of bringing out my soapbox (probably to save topics for himself). So I pondered. Continue reading →

Ishmael, nothing from the sea for me.

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“And I only am escaped alone to tell thee.”

Closing the book, that’s how I felt – a lone survivor – as I finished Moby-Dick, a novel that had become my white whale. That’s also how Melville closes the book; in the epilogue he is quoting the messengers from the first chapter of the Old Testament book of Job.

“I alone have escaped to tell you.”

Epilogue.

Let’s be honest, that’s how I felt after the first chapter of Moby-Dick. It’s one slog of a book. Job was still blessing the Lord in Chapter One. Not me, unless you ignore intonation. Continue reading →

Market Theater Gum Wall

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I took the bus up from Portland to Seattle last week to visit friends. Having finished first breakfast (no one needs to know about that meal, although most of my friends will just assume it occurred), I went for a walk through downtown Seattle until it was time to meet my friends for (second) breakfast. During my walk, I passed one of my favorite sites, the Market Theater Gum Wall.

Before I can say anything about the Gum Wall, my friend Max has pestered me to say a word or two about gum. Max, you may remember, is rather darkly written, and as before, he has asked me not to apologize in advance. I give you Max. Continue reading →