Work in progress: Record stories

I originally began this blog as part of an exercise in storytelling recommended to me by one of my nieces. At the time it seemed like a good idea. And in a lot of ways, I think it still is. But I tired of it quickly, and this blog twisted in the wind for a long time.

So, I'd like to include writings here that aren't constrained by fixed word-count limits. Welcome to "Write just 50 words (or more) a day"!

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The following is an excerpt from a work in progress.

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Record Stories (excerpt)
All stories Creative Commons 2008 by P.M.G.
Non-commercial use only, attribution, no derivative works.

Frank Sinatra - My Way - Reprise Records, 1969

Shelley bought the record after her father died at age 36. Like most high school sophomores in the late 1960's, she listened to rock. But this record reminded her so strongly of her late father that she spent the last of her weekly allowance on it. She first heard the song on a radio station that she never listened to, while waiting in the doctor’s office for some tests. She’d often play it on her little battery-operated portable turntable when her mother wasn’t around, or late at night when she was up past her bedtime, turning the volume up just enough to be able to clearly make out the lyrics. One day, as Shelley was lying on her bed, the turntable next to her, her mother came home unexpectedly. She didn’t see her mother standing in the doorway until the song was half-through. They stared at each other for a few seconds. Then Shelley got up, ran to her mother, and threw her arms around her. They both started sobbing uncontrollably.

Bobby Fuller Four - I Fought The Law - Mustang Records, 1965

Steve Jameson was a model student. He’d always be the first one who arrived in home room. No teacher ever had to discipline him. He only knew what the school’s principal looked like from a picture from an article in the local newspaper. He wasn’t a straight-A student. A “C” on a French test saw to that. But he landed on the honor roll so many times that even his teachers had lost track. He was good at gym class and made the basketball and swim teams. He was in the math club, the drama club, and the AV club. Unlike his peers, he listened only to classical music, either on records that his father regularly brought home or on the 8-track tape player in the family car as his father drove him to school. Steve occasionally played Bach on his church’s pipe organ.

Each Tuesday, he’d walk downtown to where the Junior Chamber of Commerce was meeting. On his way there, he always stopped at Maxwell’s Grocery, a corner store where he’d buy himself a bottle of Randy’s Birch Beer to drink on the way. On his way to the soda cooler, he noticed that the rack of picture postcards next to the beer cooler had been replaced by a wooden floor display full of 45 RPM records. He spent a few minutes looking them over before his eyes came to rest on the Bobby Fuller single. He picked it up. His jaw dropped. He couldn’t believe someone would actually make a song about breaking the law. He took it and the birch beer to the counter, paid old man Maxwell for them, and continued on his way.

Queen - Another One Bites The Dust - Elektra Records, 1979

Dan had finally lost his virginity. It was at the off-campus apartment of a girl who he’d met in creative writing class last semester. The song was playing on the FM radio in the living room, which was adjacent to her bedroom. He timed his final thrusts to the beat of the music, climaxing just as lead singer Freddy Mercury wailed his wordless vocals in the song’s final verse. He bought the record the following day at the campus bookstore. He’d put it into the mix tapes that he sometimes brought along when he visited his girlfriend. It became their song.

December 5th and 6th, 2007

I live next door to a gas station. It has music and commercials playing on outdoor speakers, even late at night when it's closed. It used to bother me. I'd even dream about gas station attendants filling my car's gas tank. But now I think I've gotten used to it.

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Fuck you. You're a student. We're administrators. Do you know how many of you flunk out each year? Even if you pass, who'll remember you? Even if you donate a building with your name on it? Those who take the courses decide nothing. Those who push the pencils decide everything.

September 26, 2007

Damn, but I've been away a long time!
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Dali and Bunuel made this movie in which someone gets their eye cut open. It's trick photography, but looks very real. It played on campus. As the scene came on, I shut my eyes. I didn't watch it, but the screams and moans of disgust from the audience were deafening.

August 7, 2007

Triple-header

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I believe that televangelists can say whatever they jolly well please. That's called freedom of speech. I also believe that people whose lifestyles don't necessarily conform to their notions of morality have the right to live their lives, unmolested by bad laws and government morality squads. That is called liberty.


I met my old classmate Jennie at the hotel. I desired her, as a student, but was too shy. We talked about school and our careers. Her room was on the same floor as mine. As we said good night, she put her arms around me and kissed me, hard.


I've lived in Berlin for 8 months. Learning German was easier than I thought. I no longer translate words from German to English before comprehending them. I fit in almost like a native. It's a little scary. Lately, I've been having lots of dreams about my late father and grandmother.

July 27th, 2007

Damn, but it's sure been a while since I last posted!
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The closet had been locked for 40 years. No one knew what was inside. There was a thick layer of dust over stacks of cardboard boxes. Someone pulled one out, dusted it with a wad of paper towels, and slit the packing tape which sealed it with a pocket knife.

July 12, 2007

“Diversity” is one of those words that's a benediction to some or liberal claptrap to others. Permit me to clarify the definition. “Diversity” is a 50-dollar word which means that just because someone looks, speaks, or thinks differently from you does not necessarily mean that they must be destroyed.

July 1, 2007

Hal stumbled out the delivery door at the back of the club. The sill of the door was just an inch or so higher than the pavement, throwing him off balance. It was 12:30. The headlining act was three hours late. He thought, “What is it with these punk acts”?

June 30, 2007

The music swelled. The video monitors in the control room switched from a long shot of the studio to the animation that closed every show. The red camera lights went dark. Another show was in the can. Soon hundreds of checks would pour in from souls begging to be saved.

June 27, 2007

Larry liked to show off when he was young. Back in '64, he was a manager at the bank. He had the first Lincoln Continental in town. Black, with doors which opened in opposite directions. People gawked every time he drove it down main street, which he did a lot.

June 26, 2007

“What is it this time?”, he sighed in frustration. It was his fifth attempt at recording his latest song. The studio had just bought new equipment, and the engineers weren't used to it. He had yet to get a full take down. “Master 36197, take 6” shouted the tape operator.