Hello, Bradstone?

Hayter’s article for May 3, 2020

“Hello, Bradford?”

                                                                                                                               

            “And you think the movie came out in 1990? That narrows it down. Oh, yeah, I’ll leave no turn unstoned until I find it. And you’re fairly sure that Mickey Rourke is in it? Super. If I can find the movie I’ll watch it today. Okay, I’ve got to run, Bradley. It’s past time to write my article. Yes, I’ll try to leave you out of it.

            “By the way, after you hang up, I recommend you try your luck again at some magnet fishing. It will add a little tension to your day. Okay, later, Bradstone. Remember to be happy about having such a good friend. -- Who’s Larry? Bye, Bradford.”

            What a jack-- Oh, I’m sorry. I thought I had enough time to talk to Brad Meyer before you showed up. I was wrong. I couldn’t help notice from his e-mails that the man was bored. I pick up on stuff like that. Earlier this morning he wrote - “I AM SO BORED!!!!!!”

            Let me give you a little bit of advice, here. If you know someone who is upset over not having anything to do, don’t call him. I was on the line with Bradley for 45 minutes and now I’m tempted to get out the extension ladder so I can jump off the roof. It’d be my luck that the parts of my body I shatter will not be classified as “essential to life”. -- “Mr. Hayter, it’s only your spleen. You can lead a near-normal life without that thing.”

            By the way, isn’t this a lovely day? There are red, blue, 'lallow', and pink blossoms in Kay’s garden. -- Beg pardon? -- Oh, “yellow”. At times my diction takes a quick trip back to my childhood. It usually doesn’t stay very long… unless my kid sister is visiting. Jill and I seem to be the only Hayter kids who took note of our younger years. When we’re gone, we’ll be taking a load of crazy with us.

            What was that? Oh, the comment about magnet fishing? No, it doesn’t involve fishing for magnets. It involves fishing for metal with a magnet. I think I wrote about it not too long ago. Before the pandemic hit us, Kay and I were invited for supper over at Brad’s house. I like supper, and I like Brad’s lovely wife, Nancy, who doesn’t do the cooking.

            When we got there, we sat on the backyard deck and visited. Brad has an egg-shaped hanging rattan-chair on his backyard deck. The egg chair was one of the most fun places to sit that I’ve ever sat. The next time the Meyers take an overnight trip, I think I’ll sneak over and steal the chair. So, I’m twirling around and swinging up and down for a good hour. Then, we go magnet-fishing… I mean fishing with a magnet. It was Kay’s idea. It was a fluke that Bradmeyerson had a bag of magnets. They weren’t nearly as strong as my bag of magnets, but they’d do.

            We trolled for iron objects for about an hour and a half from Brad’s pontoon-boat. The anticipation of the adventure didn’t come close to the actual experience. All we hauled in was a net. Not Annette. It was a fishing net that got away from Bradullford on one of his previous boat trips. The magnets didn’t attract the aluminum-poled beast. It was the webbed part of Annette that got tangled with the bag of magnets.

            When we returned to shore, Brad asked if anybody was hungry. I don’t remember exactly what I said, but it could be interpreted as sarcasm. Brad told me to keep my shorts on, and he’d cook supper. Keep my shorts on? We got there at 5:30 and at 8:00 he decides to “cook” supper! If he pulled a frozen rump roast out of his freezer, I was going to end it right there.

            What he did was pour some Italian dressing in a skillet and grill some chicken breasts. So 20 minutes later we had a tossed salad, green beans, and grilled chicken. Everything was delicious. Perhaps I was just hungry. Naw, it was delicious. During our late supper, Nancy mentioned that her young granddaughter cries if she sees a green bean on her plate. I told her that Big Al used to do that when Mom made salmon patties. Elsie’s salmon patties were not among her better entrees. Fortunately, Mom took her chopped fish recipe with her. Al’s over it now, but he gets this weird facial tick when the memory is raised during our conversations. I raise it a lot.

            There is a good chance that if Al happens to read this, he’s going to mess me up. No worry, if Bradson reads this I’ll likely end up at the bottom of his lake with a bag of magnets wrapped around my neck. While there’s nothing I can do about Big Al, I may be able to smooth things over with Bradford, by finding the 1990 movie he recommended. How hard can that be? --No, I’m asking.

            Eight minutes later: Isn’t the Internet wonderful? The movie is called “Desperate Hours.” I just saw the trailer. It’s got Mickey Rourke and Anthony Hopkins in it. That pairing is wrong in so many ways. -- I’ll give the movie a shot. Having a good friend can be costly. If Brad really messes me up, there’s going to be an egg-shaped, rattan chair hanging on my porch.

.          

end

           

hayter.mark@gmail.com