Sunday, October 2, 2011

Seeing Red

Fetid dream, last night. Blame Guanabanas (Jupiter FL), a pricey sizzle over substance experience, where the atmosphere is great and the food, oh well... Macadamia coconut clumps of bored snapper, heavy plantains and ho-hum green beans must have messed my brain. Retro anything is over rated.

Just to be clear, a guanabana is a tropical fruit. Called the soursop more commonly, the large green edible bonga-ball can be made into a variety of palatables including juices, fruit dishes, flavorings and so on. In some places, indigenous people eat the fruit much like an apple. The white pulp and black indigestible seeds of the cut soursop make an interesting pattern, say for a kitchen floor. Oh, just to be fair, eating soupsops can be hazardous as well. Research in the Caribbean (research in the Caribbean?) has posited that eating soursops leads to atypical Parkinson's disease. For what it is worth, Guanabanas does not feature guanabanas on its menu...

Bolt upright, 3 AM, with sweat aplenty. Nightmares can do that, although all remembered then and now is a leg wearing the kind of stocking with the line running up the back. Although hose of this kind is a curiosity now, back in the 50's, women wore those "nylon's" all the time. Prone to "runs", these stockings had a short life. Oh and that thick leg adorned with a black stiletto was on my left thigh! Still sitting at Guanabanas?

Looking down, after feeling the pressure of this gravid gamba, the so sexy scarpa was riveting. Immediately upon seeing the shoe, the question of the red sole fired off like a rocket. Scrunching back a little to gain some wiggle room, the old dropped napkin ploy had to be put into action. With head askew and left arm extended, the reach down garnered a good view... Nope!! A worn, brown outer sole and a thick ankle and calf said "Hi"! Ugh...

There was no upper leg, there was no other person in the dream but me and the leg. Today, the obvious questions become,
  • "What if there had been a red sole?" 
  • "What about that old-time stocking?"
  • "Who was the owner of the leg?"
  • "Could this be the beginning of Parkinson's disease?"
  • "Does this have anything to do with my Aunt Cybil?"
Well, no clue, no clue, no clue, no clue and no clue (er, well perhaps...). Prompted to do a little surfing, here are a few discovered images... from

Man, those stockings look, well, old. Not so much sexy as just old. Maybe they will come back... like glass milk bottles. Well time to get some joe, signing off...

E cosi va


Caren Castro and Aunt Cybil looked alike back then

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