"Sketches Of A Waitress"...

Good "First Friday" Community Coffee and Donut Get Together, y'all.

Yesterday, after my tooth decision was discussed, made and hopefully finalized, I threw myself upon mercy of The Southside Cafe and my waitress, Gabby, who mentioned the recuperative qualities of an Abita Amber on draught with some fried onion ring can have!

Good choice!

Gabby, who mothered me for the next two hours, honored me with her pose when she saw me sketching the new model airplanes that hover above the bar. I quelled her curiosity about my life as an artist as I attempted to capture the new A-4 model hanging from the ceiling and finish my Reuben.

So, I stopped drawing the plane and started to incorporate Gabby's pose into the picture. It looked interesting, but Gabby liked it enough to request ownership. The back of the sketchpad page was stained with charcoal dust which was why I chose it to play around with. I didn't think it was that good, and offered to do a better rendering without the jet for her to have... for another Abita Amber!

A little later, a elderly woman (elderly as much as I am!), who sitting across from me at another table, said she enjoyed watching me sketch the waitress, and mentioned how good portrait looked. It reminded her about her son who was, "Really good at copying the Mona Lisa!"

I completed the sketch, offered to sign it, and finished my beer! I thanked Gabby for the attention she gave me, took another Tylenol, and split!

Old coffee... so far!

Copyright 2025/BenBensen III

 

"Oh No, Not Again!"

Good "not so good" Thursday Morning, all bodies.

A week ago, on Wednesday morning, Therese fell fracturing her left tibia in three places and "crushing" her ankle. In terrible pain, Tee was rushed to the hospital and was scheduled to have surgery that night to secure her ankle with pins.

After a week at the hospital, just yesterday, she was transferred to Heritage Manor for a few days to help rehab her her leg. Her doctor, Dr.Bouvillon, thinks she is improving enough to continue with the second surgery... this time on her ankle. So, on Monday, she will be sent to AVALA for the surgery with an overnight stay and then, back to Heritage Manor for continued PT.

There is a belief that people don't fall because they are awkward or clumsy and not paying attention to their surroundings. Theory is that then fall because their bones can no longer support the body. Scary thought.

Tee will be laid up and incognito for three or more months, so I guess I will too!

First cup...

Copyright 2024/Ben Bensen III

 

"Will I Ever See You Again?"

 Well, I really have no one to blame but myself. Three Wednesdays ago, I received a third “invite” to visit my urologist. At first, it was with the phone call. Then, a text message. Both of each, I ignored. Finally, through My Chart, the front desk requested an interview of some sort.

At last, I walk through the door of the doctor’s office and is handed a list of pages I am suppose to fill out.

“Ma’am, why do I need to fill these forms out?” You guys have been harassing me for over a month and therefore, I assume you have all the information you need on me!”

“I’m sorry,” is all she said.

“Yeh, me too!”

Signed, sealed and delivered, I was seated in one of the rooms after another inquisition and a good pee in a cup, I await the urologist, and peruse the many interesting models and all the wonderful things that could go wrong with one’s “pleasure machine!”

The urologist enters a few minutes later to tell me that my urine is fine and that all systems seem fine, but…

“Mister Bensen, I am curious as to why do you have two urologists?”

“I do?”

Laughing, I proceed to tell him the shortened version of my “Tales Of Testosterone” epic. I could tell from the look on his face he was only slightly amused.

“So, you are seeing this doctor and he is monitoring you levels every six months… Correct?”

“Yes, I guess so. It’s about time to see him soon,” I said, a bit apologetically. I thought that guy was you guys!”

“So you won’t be having a need for our services, I assume,” he said.

“I am told because of my age that I won’t be needing a PSA exam for another five years, so I guess not”… 

“Not with you guys, at least!”

“Well, okay, but before I let you go, let’s make sure all is well and have another look anyway!”

I thought,”you mean for old time’s sake” but I didn’t say it.

As expected, I passed the test with a quick poke from the blue fickle finger of fate. Pulling my pants back up, I turned to the man, looked him straight in the eye, and as he ripped away his gloves asked him  with a slight smirk on my face…

 “Is this the end… Does this mean our relationship is over?”  Will I ever see you again?

“No,” he said.

First loving Giddy Up cup!

Copyright 2024/Ben Bensen III

"No, Not That Kinda Hey... HAY!"

 

Good "Monday Again" Monday Morning, all bodies!

See, you have to understand some people here in Folsom come from a different stock with their own special priorities. For example, we are in the middle of a highly sophisticated topic about automobile oil filter sumps when a friend's eyes set long and hard on a pickup truck that passed by the window of the coffeehouse.

"With her eyes all a twitter, she jumps up out of her chair and yells, "Hay!"

Now, being a city boy who is still trying to find my place in this here town, I answer,"WHAT?"

"No, Barbara says as she points to the window. Not that kinda hey... HAY!"

Her enthusiasm puts a halt to the conversation as everyone watches her run to the window.

"It's hay... two bundles of the good kind of hay sitting in the back of that truck. I wonder where he got it,” she asked hoping that the owner was gonna stop by for a cup of coffee.

Unfortunately, he did not making a right turn at the corner and off into the distance.

With a giggle, I asked her, "Do you always get so worked up about... um, HAY?"

"I do when it's the good brand of hay. You can't get that kind of quality here in Louisiana."

As she continued to explain the differences in hay to anyone who'd listen, I couldn't help but be impressed by Barbara's ability to see and discern one brand of hay from another, and even from the back of a pickup just passing through. Gotta love it though!

• Copyright 2024/Ben Bensen III

"He Liked The Photo Better"...

Old West Altar

Last night, while having dinner, we watched a PBS series called, "Iconic America" where the reporter wanted to get to the bottom of the lore of the real cowboy vs the TV hero. Being a baby boomer, we could relate to the questions the reporter was asking of real cowboys about how TV heroes like Roy Rogers, The Lone Ranger, Gene Autry, and Hopalong Cassidy was distorted even more by the movie industry.

 What's the real story!

 

So funny, are my latest connections to the story because just three weeks ago, some artists from the Lacombe Artist Guild came to the coffeehouse, Giddy Up in Folsom, to sketch and nosh a bit. We picked a saddle seated atop a wooden bannister as our subject, but it wasn't a great saddle and it wasn't well lit.

I mentioned a saddle I sketched a few years back and liked it enough to add some color to it, and post it on Facebook. Well, a friend of Karen Kuchar, Linda and David Weirather, saw it and thought it would fit right into the extra bedroom they had. It was turned into a western theme.

 

The room originally belong to their daughter who passed away a few years back. Having lost our son in 2013, we had a lot more in common then just the old west. So, as requested, I tore it out of the sketchbook and sold it to them.

 

About a week ago, looking for something interesting to sketch, I saw this rusted old spur that broke away from the other half on the wall and rested behind the original saddle I had sketched years ago. How appropriate... kinda like an omen of sorts!

 

 

 So, I sketched it as is on one of the Giddy Up coffee tables and posted it. David saw my post and loved it. He thought that the real rusted spur sitting on the table in front of the Giddy Up branded logo was gonna be a nice edition to his collection. So, he asked to purchase just the photo... How could I refuse him.

 

Check's in the mail, man...

Second cup!

 

 Copyright/2023/Ben Bensen III

"Well, Mothers Do Have Their Ways!"

Claes Oldenberg Lives...

 Good "foggy and humid" Wednesday Morning, y'all.

I didn't know Claes Oldenberg was fond of making model airplanes... If you know what I mean. Claes was artist/sculptor, best known for his public art installations typically featuring large replicas of everyday objects.

I saw this photo a couple of weeks ago and cracked up. If you were a model maker back in the Fifties and Sixties, the design on this tube of cement will send you way back.

It also reminds me of a story that I might have mentioned before where against my mother orders, I bought for 29¢, maybe 49¢, Aurora's kit of the Lockheed F-94C Starfire. I hid it inside the upright piano that no one has ever played on for years.

Long ago and far away, this model costs .49¢.

Well, mothers have their ways, don't they. I have to assume, in spite of my surreptitiously covert action, that my mom found out about the stash. It was really hard to lay low till the heat was over, but when I returned to my secret hideaway few impatient days later, the model was missing!

Where could it have gone?

I lifted the piano cover and practically climbed into it sifting in between the felt hammers thinking the small box may have slipped way down below them. I pushed down the foot pedals hoping doing so would pop up the hidden gem. But, to no avail.

Swallowing hard a month or two after I "filed a missing person's plane report", I asked my mother, with slight trepidation, if she had seen this model of the famous Lockheed F-94C Starfire. She looked at me rather confusedly. Even at an early age, I was about eight years old at the time, I knew my mother was known for her practical jokes.

But, after repeated inquiries over a series of months, I could see in my mother's eyes that she wasn't joking and was starting to show concern for my loss... and my emotional well being.

"Poor baby!"

The mystery still haunts me sometimes in my dreams. Did I actually get on my bike and ride three miles to the strip mall hobby shop between the cemeteries and the Gentilly Branch of the U.S. Post Office.

I was a regular client there. I showed up every other weekend from a weeks worth of cut lawns with money burning a hole in my pocket.

But that part of the dream never occurs. It was only of me opening the piano top and setting into the hammers the model of the Lockheed F-94C Starfire, and returning to find it gone.

A few years later, belonging to the American Society of Aviation Artists,( ASAA ) and having forgotten all about the mystery, I found a picture of the wonderful illustrator that stole my aviation soul to sent it to some nebulous dream world. Where DID that illusive 1/82 scale model of the famous Lockheed F-94C Starfire go?

Thank you, Joe Kotula... I think!

Second foggy cup!

Copyright 2023/Ben Bensen III

"Gonna Take A Hammer And A Chisel To It!"

 Good "Thirsty" Thursday, y'all.

I know it's early but, I could use a good beer right now!

So funny.

I know I've made it very clear that I don't care for our new refrigerator. It makes too much noise, especially the convenient water and ice cube dispenser. AND, to me, the interior isn't very ergonomic.

It couldn't have been designed by an Art Center graduate, I am sure.

A few months ago, during red beans and rice season, I froze three one gallon ziplock bags in separate slots, or racks, of the door panel.

Well, one of the plastic ziplock bags froze in such a way that it locked itself into the panel rack. The way this is designed, you can't pull out the rack away from the door panel till you unlock the plastic snaps.

A safety device for the inept, I suppose!

Frustrated after many attempts to pull the bag away from the rack, I told my wife that soon I was gonna take a hammer and a chisel to it.

Therese suggested another way, which I was not in the mood to pursue at that time. Currently, there are just too many other things that need my attention, and I just as soon, eat out!

The next morning, around 6 o'clock, I'm awakened to the drone of what sounds like a hair dryer. I guess the sound went on for a few minutes, but having been up late the night before, I decided to ignore it all and go back to sleep.

Dragging myself out of bed an hour later or so, I noticed that bag of frozen red beans was defrosting in a large pot.

"Well, I'll be damned," I thought to myself... She did it!"

The afternoon before, Tee suggested taking a hair dryer to the stuck frozen bag and melting the corner that was stuck to the rack snap. What a gal!

Guess what we had for dinner last night... Ha!

First home brewed cup!

Copyright 2022/Ben Bensen III

A Golden One...

One of hundreds of fruit plates I've designed...

 Those that have followed me through the last four or so years know that my wife survived pancreatic cancer with many digestive concerns. A protein shake with vitamins and minerals was created for her by my doctor/ bro.

About two years ago, after another surgery, I started daily making her a fruit salad, but after a while boredom set in. So, I decided to have some fun for her digestion and my creative needs. Since that time I have created over one hundred different fruit plates I call my "TruMan Compoty" collection of fruity alternatives.

Today, I made a special one celebrating our 50th Golden Anniversary. So glad to be able to have her with me for so many years... and healthy.

Copyright 2022/Ben Bensen III

"A Garage Band Reunion"...

A garage band reunion...

 Good “mundane Monday Morning, y’all.

Well, at least, it does seem that way!

It was a nice way to momentarily put away the grief of losing and burying our little pup on Thursday. On Friday, we were invited to a Memorial Mass at St. Ann’s in Metairie to celebrate the life of Patti Smith Cook, M.D. who passed away at 89 years old. For those who are interested in all of her incredible accomplishments, for instance, she was a judge for the US Figure Skating association for Pairs, Freestyle, Moves, and Ice Dancing until her death, and actively skated those disciplines until 2009,

check out: https://www.mourning.com/obituaries/Patricia-Cook-M-D/....

Therese’s brother Jimmy asked us to join him and his wife, Wanda, for a lunch at a small Italian restaurant called, “Sandros.” Tee and I had not been there in quite some time, and it was just what we needed. Good food and great conversation… One on one!

When we came home that evening, we reluctantly began the process of taking down and putting away the Christmas decorations… I know, I know. It's about time, right?

Therese had planned weeks ago, to share her gingerbread “expertise” with our sister-in-law, Laura Bensen, Saturday afternoon. It certainly wasn’t what I had in mind. So, I took the chance of calling my musician buddy, Reggie Scanlan, in the hopes that he was in town and willing to share a lunch with his desperate old pal.

Lo and behold, he was available for that eventuality. I then decided to give my cousin, Glenn Fortier, a call to once again join us for lunch. For whatever “insipid” reason, he always turned me down, but…

But, this time, Glenn agreed to join me.

I was ecstatic. You see Glenn was the drummer of our four piece garage band, but to my knowledge, had not seen Reggie play bass guitar with the band called The Radiators or even seen him in decades. Once we got passed New Orleans’s Covid requirements at the Hi Hat restaurant, we had a ball.

Reggie’s got so many stories from his past playing bass behind so many great musicians, I wanted Glenn to hear some of them and possibly share some of his musician days.

I think two years before Therese had her bout with pancreatic cancer, Reggie was diagnosed with the fourth stage version. So they also have that in common including the brilliant Doctor John Bolton as their surgeon. Returning to pick up my wife and some gingerbread cookies, I dropped off Christmas decorations and my older sister’s fake tree that we didn’t wanna keep though we still had not put away our own decorations.

On Sunday, we went to Gus’s for breakfast to see the old gang and thank Paula Alario for her love and care of Pierre all these years. Paula has had to have put down four dawgs and a few horses over time. Later that day we watched some great football with a roaring fire in the fireplace and attempted to reluctantly put away the rest of the Christmas decoration…

We did… First cup!

Copyright 2022/Ben Bensen III

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