Reme (Reh-may) or Violet’s bored regards and Wonkan Cakelike Apple Cider Vinegar Remedies

A man stopped by me in the line-up

he turned to the woman too beside me

a wedding cake maker, he

offered us congratulations on our performance tonight

and in a sturdy aside he preached to me,

and her

  • a “we” you might say-

on the fable of a one young soldier,

upon discharge from his service

read a magical mystery in a men’s medicinal handbook in 1959

an age old fountain of youthful faces washing up in frozen countenances

“My, my, my boy, you just take a little dip there of the fingers and splash it in your cheeks.  Now, now.  Now I tell you too my lady dear, you’ve got a heart of gold I can tell just by lookin’ in your eye- so I do so solemnly vow it is the god’s honest truth.  Oh Long Hai Rhic Ah Rehl Rah Sha was her name and she danced like a beauty, Bali Hai me if you will but I believe we should be more focused on the deficit, I’m running for the White house don’t you know.  I have a plan to make a blue million dollar bill, and everyone can have one, if we just can-”

“Mr. Buxtable, I’m sorry but the actors need to go now.  Thank you for coming.”

It was the lady from the front of the house, we never saw her in the back.

“Oh yes-” he replied, jittering softly for a moment craning his neck to her, and in even time just the same back to us “Yes!  The Apple Cider Vinegar.  Precisely, I take a sip every day my dear keeps me spry and happy, keeps the rest of me nice and tight, as a man might say, it’s delectable, with an acquired palet I find it absolutely magnificent and what would you know it but I’m a young 84.”

He was of course a child, but with all the demeanor of a delightfully dandy muffincake Mr. Barnaby T. H. E. Buxtable was (though he often went as Harry, his middlemost name.)  If such a sir could be called a sir, he could of course be called a Mr..  We weren’t sure if the chicklet beside him was his Mrs. or his daughter, so in age this one was, so in age were they both in age.  With Reme-Meme-Remedies both they remedied themselves in native recipes, one pre-New England, the other Sunset Boulevard.  A caretaker was a distant third option.  Far more likely, a student- his student, and perhaps all the more so to be, in a way, all four.  She was in like all ways also mother, teacher, former husband and or his own creation.  Her name was Sally.

When Harry met Sally they erupted in a kind of hippie explosion that only results in a purely classical sense of madness in the gentlest kind of Willy Wonka ways.  He was mad about cakes and she was mad about pill popping, also nonshopping and pillow arrangements.  Together they decorated homes in birthday suit cake day like fashions and put on galas designed to be eaten after dinner with a bit of coffee, “decaf if you have it” you might ask if it’s too late and you’ve got work in the morning or are more serious about that early morning run.  They settled on Wedding cakes because of her love of flowers and his attraction to music, accoutrements and courtesy, but don’t ask about why she doesn’t like Hank Williams any more.  Or at least it seemed to be very hush, hush.  Don’t ask me how we got onto Hank Williams.

Front of House texts me and says “Darlin’ you better get your butt over here, we’re starting to strike.” She always used fairly good grammar in her texts, that Front of House Woman.  I found it to be an admirable quality in any texter.

“Mr. Buxtable, it’s been a pleasure thank you for the invitation.  It was very nice meeting you. Have a good night, thank you for coming.”

We walked away a little, a little too, I don’t know, quickly maybe?  Nahh, it wasn’t quite rude, but there was a softness he carried with him and to deflect him was rude- by not softening also you felt a way in which words were shallow if they could not be at the very least polite.  It was a depth of understanding in the very apple blossom lay a politeness, that whether through what weather it will whether snow, sleet, sun or rain it offers up, so, so softly, a little bit of lightness in soul and spirit, this fine flowering bearing still only fruits.  It was a little bit of enlightenment passing by this ship at night a thumb to the forehead in prayer this little madman imparting prophecy and wishes was a man frozen in time (a buddha buddy of Fuddrucking Fuddy Duddy’s at the food corporation)

traveling across time.  I have become mad with his madness of home remedies and I remedy people now too with my own Fuddrucking Fuddy Duddy Pudding Patty and can only go on making a more, to put it puddingly simple, a one world peace pudding party.

This is what happens when you’ve been bitten by a Willy Wonka, an intense sweet tooth  inspired sugar palet fascination with pastries, pies, baked goods, candy, cookies and cooking, drives an individual to the brink of success and madness, bordering on Mad Scientist turned Culinary, Confectionary.  Don’t give your kids candy.

Paid for by the America Dental Association.

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