As Sigur Ros played melodically on the stage, a Chinese paper lantern gently rose, lifted higher, and disappeared on the horizon, creating a moment of pure magic.
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Tag Archives: music
My Second Book, Coming Soon!
Coming soon! Wrags Ink., a new publisher in the Philadelphia area, is putting 
out a collection of my typography on vintage photographs! You’ve seen some of them before here and possibly on my Etsy, but this collection has about fifty images and more than half of them have never been seen before! So get ready, readers! My work is also being featured in a few magazines coming out this summer, and I’ll be sure to let you know about that as it comes up!
Also, once the book is out the prices will probably be going up a bit on my Etsy, so if you want any, better get them soon!
Thanks for reading!
Posted in flash fiction, photos of strangers, Typography
Tagged 1940s, 1950s, 1960s, 1970s, art, beauty, childhood, children, couples, dating, death, dennis finocchiaro, entertainment, family, fiction, flash fiction, found art, found photograph, friends, friendship, funny, hipster, horror, humor, kitsch, life, love, marriage, music, people, photo, photograph, photography, photos, pictures, poetry, reading, records, relationships, retro, romance, sad, typewriter, typography, vintage, writing
I Love Record Store Day
I’d already waited in line for thirty minutes, thinking I would be first if I showed up an hour before the store opened. I was wrong. There were a good number of people ahead and the store was around the corner. But come on, how many could possibly be looking for The Beach Boys’ album, right? I mean, record store day is about the indie music…isn’t it?
The doors opened at ten, a full hour before their usual time, and by eleven I was finally at the door. Eleven fifteen finds me released into the crowded den full of hipsters and gross unshowered balding men with combovers, and as I approached the wall dedicated to record store day releases, I saw the royal blue cover, golden rays shining from the words, The Beach Boys in that hard-to-miss 60s font. As I closed in someone snatched it practically from under my nose, and here I am in line, waiting to purchase the runners-up on my list of top ten special releases. Peter, Bjorn a John, not a band to ignore. Of Montreal, only a thousand pressed. New Pornographers. Decemberists. But the prize, the number one on my list, The Beach Boys including the songs Good Vibrations and Heroes and Villains, an early and alternate take, respectively, my only chance to hear them on vinyl, gone. I tried to hide my dissatisfaction with the day, my disappointment, and I noticed the register girl was the one who always remembered me, knew my music tastes with such perfection that I would blindly buy a record based on her recommendation without even listening to a single song.
“Hey! You made it!” she said to me with her usual winning smile, and I tried to smile back, but the most I could muster was a half-hearted grin.
It was my turn, and she took my records and looked through. She flipped through a second time and reached under the counter.
“Looks like you’re missing one…” she said as she produced a copy of The Beach Boys album, my holy grail for the day. My half-hearted grin turned genuine in a heartbeat. “You want it?”
I nodded, speechless as she rang up my total and I handed her my card without even looking at the price. Who cares, right? It’s record store day.
As I walked toward the door I looked in my bag and once more saw the golden rays shine at me, and I smiled. A quick look at the register and she waved goodbye to me with a huge smile before she took the next person in line.
I love record store day.
Posted in flash fiction
Tagged art, Beach Boys, beauty, Decemberists, dennis finocchiaro, entertainment, fiction, flash fiction, funny, hipster, humor, indie music, kitsch, life, love, music, New Pornographers, of montreal, people, Peter Bjorn and John, photo, photograph, photography, photos, pictures, rare vinyl, record collecting, Record Store Day, record stores, records, retro, vinyl
Flash Fiction Published!
I’m proud to announce a collection of my stories was published in a lovely publication called The Fifteenth Dame Lisbet Throckmorton Anthology:
Click the image to order the book on Amazon. It was an honor to be selected with such beautiful stories and talented writers.
My collection are a bunch of short flash fiction pieces that take place in a coffee shop. There are two sections, Despair and Hope, some of the stories continuing from the Despair section to the Hope section. I’m really excited! Here are a few example flashes:
She removes her hood, as directed. He wants to see her eyes as she ends it. She sighs and takes a sip of tea. He spins his mug of coffee on the saucer, noticing the tiny cracks in the glaze.
~
From above, all that could be seen was two people calmly reading.
From below, all that could be seen was a serious, ongoing foot war.
~
It was their first date, blind at that, and conversation was fairly smooth. But he knew it would all work out because as she ate her giant marshmallow square, she broke a piece off, rolled it into a bite-sized, mouth-appropriate ball in the palms of her hands, and carefully regarded it between her finger and thumb before popping it into her mouth.
~
She loved sipping the hot rooibos tea but regretted her decision to sit inside on such a nice, clear night. She looked out the window with an air of regret, but lacked the initiative to move.
Posted in flash fiction
Tagged Amazon, art, authors, beauty, Candace Leigh Coulombe, Carla Brownlee, childhood, children, coffee, coffee shop, couples, dating, dennis finocchiaro, entertainment, family, fiction, Fifteenth Dame Lisbet Throckmorton, flash fiction, friends, friendship, hipster, humor, kitsch, life, love, marriage, music, people, people watching, poetry, published, Rachel Scandarion, reading, relationships, retro, romance, sad, Sally Whitknee, Sheila Romano, Sherri Cook, tea, writers, writing
Vintage Kermit
“When did our bookshelf become all Rainbow Connection?”
She looked up from her copy of Dave Egger’s You Shall Know Our Velocity and shifted her weight in her favorite reading spot, the moon chair they’d bought at Urban a few years before.
“I found it in my parents’ attic! Can you believe it? Really brings me back.”
He picked up the vintage Kermit and made it wave at her. She smiled.
Kermit’s hand got stuck on his sweater and he had to pull it off. “What the…he has Velcro on his hands!”
“And feet!” she added. “Neat huh? He used to hang from my doorknob as a kid. He guarded it so monsters wouldn’t get me.”
He laughed and started propping the doll on the shelf with his back blocking her view.
“Don’t make him do anything perverted!”
After a quick dirty look, he went back to work. “Come on, I have the utmost respect for Muppets.”
She relaxed a bit in the chair. “You don’t understand, Kermit was my favorite. My dad gave him to me before he…left. I cried more tears into that toy than anything else I own. My dad used to sing Muppet songs to me. The show theme song or Mahna-Mahna when I was down, Rainbow Connection before bed.”
He turned and joined her in the chair for a hug.
“Thanks.”
“Check him out!” he said with a huge smile, clearly proud of himself.
She looked over to see Kermit sitting with his legs crossed and his hands folded on his lap.
“I love it.”
Posted in flash fiction, Zoey and Xander
Tagged 1980s, beauty, childhood, children, couples, dating, divorce, entertainment, family, fiction, flash fiction, frogs, hipster, humor, Kermit, Kermit the Frog, kitsch, life, love, Muppets, music, people, photo, photograph, photography, photos, pictures, puppets, relationships, retro, The Muppet Show, vintage, writing
The Girl With Melancholy Eyes
There was once this girl with really sad eyes at a concert and I fell in love with her in an instant. It was at a Belle and Sebastian show (of course, why wouldn’t it be?) and I noticed her when my friend needed a smoke. We headed out to the small corral they created for the tobacco-addicted and I felt like a cow herded into a small enclosure surrounded by metal fences.
The crowd literally shifted and opened and my memory tells me a streetlight shone down on her as if she were on stage under a spotlight. Her short blonde hair, perfect for her face, was brushed out of her eyes by her pale, petite hand and in an instant I could sense, feel, and see how sad she was. She smiled, took a drag on her cigarette, laughed at what someone said to her, yet the melancholy poured from her eyes and into my heart, infecting it.
A moment later she looked over at me and the smile disappeared; she knew I could see into her soul, could sense through her façade that she felt pain. She nodded to me and I smiled, which caused the corners of her mouth to crack a little before returning to her conversation.
Posted in flash fiction
Tagged beauty, belle and sebastian, concert, concerts, couples, dating, fiction, flash fiction, friends, friendship, life, live music, love, missed connection, music, people, photo, photograph, photography, photos, pictures, relationships, romance, smoking, writing
Imagine
“That was an amazing exhibit.”
“Oh trust me, I remember,” he said as he changed his Facebook status to one 
simple word, Imagine.
“Found it!” she said as she pulled the record Double Fantasy out of his collection and brought it to the turntable.
“Good job. Remember the wish trees?”
They were thinking back to an art exhibit they’d seen in Montreal that was a tribute to John and Yoko.
“I loved them. What was your wish again?”
He looked away from her.
“It’s fine, you don’t have to admit it. But I know it was me.”
“Yeah yeah,” he tried to dismiss that part of the conversation.
“We actually were IN the bed of the famous sleep in.”
“I know, it was impressive. I think my favorite was how interactive the exhibit was. How they invited everyone to take part, like how we could hammer a nail to the wall.”
“And all those stamps that said imagine peace in multiple languages?”
“You just had to find the French one, then we stamped your hand with it and took photographs of your hand all over Montreal.”
She sat on the couch next to him and snuggled up. “They were airing all of her home movies of the two of them.”
“The whole wall of War is Over signs was pretty neat too.”
“Agreed. I wish we could go back and do it again.”
“Well, we could totally go to Montreal. But the exhibit is long gone.”
“I know.”
The record continued to play in the background and she looked at him.
“This is a perfect way to spend his birthday, listening to his records with someone I love.”
“Agreed,” he said as he put his arm around her.
Posted in flash fiction
Tagged art, Beatles, beauty, couples, dating, Double Fantasy, entertainment, fiction, flash fiction, friends, friendship, hipster, humor, Imagine, John Lennon, John Lennon's Birthday, kitsch, life, love, montreal, Musée des Beaux Arts, music, people, photo, photograph, photography, photos, pictures, records, relationships, retro, romance, tribute to John Lennon, vintage, vinyl, writing, yoko ono
We’ll Lead You Astray…
Photo taken by me in Kung Fu Necktie, Philadelphia.
“We’ll lead you astray,” she said.
He picked up his beer and turned to face her. “Oh really?”
She laughed a bit.
“Hi, I’m Rob.” He reached out his hand.
“Sally,” she said with a smile.
“So, go ahead. Lead and I’ll follow.”
She turned to her friend next to her and whispered something, and she whispered back. He started to lose his confidence. But she was the one who spoke first. She removed her cardigan and started rolling the plaid sleeves of her shirt. He noticed the tip of some cleavage peeking out of the tank she wore underneath. The band started playing which should have ended the conversation, but he persisted.
“So what do you do?”
“I’m a teacher!”
“Teacher by day, hipster by night?”
“I’m not a hipster,” she frowned.
He laughed. “I was kidding.”
He paused, making it awkward.
“Are you here to see Those Darlins, or one of the openers?”
“Darlins!” she yelled. She turned to her friend again.
“I love them, aren’t they great!”
“Yeah!” she yelled back. “Love them…saw them in Jersey a few weeks ago.”
“Nice!” he said with a smile.
The band was especially loud as she yelled something to him and he could not hear.
“Huh?”
She yelled it again and he still couldn’t hear her.
“Reading what?” he yelled to her.
She pointed at something over his shoulder, and he turned to see a lit up sign that said “We’ll Lead You Astray”.
Posted in flash fiction
Tagged band, bar, comedy, concert, couples, dating, embarrassment, entertainment, fiction, flash fiction, friends, friendship, hipster, hipsters, hitting on a girl, humor, Kung Fu Necktie, life, live music, love, marriage, music, photo, photograph, photography, photos, pictures, relationships, romance, Those Darlins, writing
La Nuit Française
“I’ve never seen a balloon cause so much trouble!”
“I know, right?” she said to me.
We had just finished watching the 1956 French classic Le Balloon Rouge, or The Red Balloon.
“That kid got into so much trouble!” she said. I nodded. “How did you know there was so little dialogue?”
“Someone told me.” I had come up with the idea of creating our own soundtrack to it, side two of Françoise Hardy’s Maid in Paris, then side one of the Serge Gainsbourg and Jane Birkin record.
“It made it more fun, didn’t it?”
“Oui!”
“Dork.”
She fell back onto the couch and started staring at the ceiling. “I’m glad we didn’t 
sell them.”
“Even though we could use the money.”
“Money can’t replace the beauty of those records.”
Someone had just offered me a shit-ton of money for my collection of record française. Yeah right, like I would part with them.
“Yeah right, like I would part with them. I lugged half of them all the way across Montreal, and most of the others, I left clothing behind in Paris for those. They are definitely worth more than money to me.”
“Me too. They’re half the reason I liked you at first.”
“Very funny.”
“Fine, that’s a lie, but on the first date it is how you lured me back to your place. French records, a little wine, you sure know how to make a girl melt.”
“You’d be surprised how often that line works. I have a nice collection of French records at my place…”
“Nice.” She frowned. “Wait, you are kidding, right?”
“Of course. I’ve never shared these records with another woman.” She looked at me. “What?”
“Never?
I thought about it and decided to come clean. “Fine, fine, I have tried. None of 
them appreciated them.”
“Not as much as me, right?” she said, grabbing my arm and pulling me into her arms.
“Nope!” I said as I kissed her. We made out for a bit until the needle started scratching against nothing, then returned to its arm rest.
“Should I flip it?” she asked. “Or should we maybe watch the movie again with the real audio, just to see if the effect is different?”
I smiled and picked up the remote to start the movie again. The balloon once again floated down to the little boy and I laughed as he was once again told he could not bring it on the bus, thus being late for school again.
“I’ve never seen a balloon cause so much trouble.”
Posted in flash fiction, Zoey and Xander
Tagged Balloon Rouge, comedy, dates, dating, entertainment, fiction, flash fiction, Francaise, Francoise Hardy, French, friends, friendship, fun, hipsters, humor, Jane Birkin, life, lifestyle, love, movies, music, people, photography, photos, pictures, random, records, relationships, romance, Serge Gainsbourg, silly, The Red Balloon, vinyl
A Perfect Sunday
As he sat in his moon chair listening to the rain he realized what a perfect Sunday it was.
Peaceful.
Relaxing.
He felt the excited/trapped feeling people get sometimes in storms. Moments like this had been his favorite since he was a child.
It was nearly perfect, but something was missing. As soon as he recognized what else the day called for, he ran to his record collection, moved a lamp close by so he could read them in the cloudy darkness, and pulled out all four of his Smiths records. He put one on, turned the sound down to a three, and returned to the moon chair just as A Rush and A Push and the Land is Ours started up on the player.
Perfection.
Posted in flash fiction
Tagged contemplation, fiction, flash fiction, hipster, inspiration, kitsch, life, love, moon chair, Morrissey, music, photography, photos, rain, rainy day, rainy day fun, records, relaxation, Smiths, Sunday, vintage, vinyl, weather
A Flash of Inspiration 
