The Postman Rang Twice

15 October 2005, Saturday -- OK, so I, Nicholas Smith, was busy downloading the latest episodes of Desperate Housewives onto my fabulous new Video iPod. I was the owner of the roadside truck stop, the Mother Truckers' Apple Cyber Cafe, located deep in the Pine Barrens of New Jersey. My lovely, sincere, eternally faithful and totally trustworthy wife, Cora Jones (she always used her maiden name for some reason), was behind the counter making sure that the Xserve RAID array was updating all the new web files on our P2P site. We were getting ready for the influx of weekend business, to make sure that the men, most usually in western attire, many always accompanied by a new friend they found on their route, hitchhiking, would be able to catch up on what they missed while on the road.

The three 50" Panasonic plasma screen TVs were each now showing a different movie in one of the three lounge areas -- Gone With The Wind, Star Wars : The Revenge Of The Sith, and a selection of vintage Apple Macintosh Computer commercials, to cater to the different tastes of our clients, most of whom were regulars.

Around the spacious dance floor were comfy sofas and another large plasma screen on which iTunes Music Videos would provide non-stop entertainment for the happy couples and threesomes. We used to have a DJ, and well known artists would occasionally stop by (U2, Madonna, Bob Dylan, Iggy Pop, Michael Jankson, and even the Stones, among many others), who did non-paid gigs for the raving crowds. The DJ was expensive and talked too much about his five Xs, sang off-key solos about lost loves while strumming his air guitar, but he wasn't very popular. After getting an iPod Photo, we decided it would be much less expensive to use it as a secondary music source, complete with slide shows of the artists as well as photos that the truckers brought in from their hauls from sea to shining sea.

Then there were the 10 private upstairs rooms for our guests who came on Friday night and stayed the entire weekend, some longer -- they kept coming, day in and day out. Each room is equipped with a king size water bed, a supersized whirlpool hot tub in the shape of an apple, and a 23" G5 iMac with iSight. They all had an internet connection, of course, and some guests would allow their live video camera to be viewed in other rooms, on a reciprocal basis, naturally. Cora watched occasionally on the hidden monitor, telling me they exchanged investment information, truck decorating tips, and cookie recipes.

Cora had just placed a MAN WANTED sign in the front window because we could use an extra hand to show our happy customers how to access the WiFi network we had set up for their Mac PowerBooks, which was easy, but some of them didn't have a clue. There are 24 individual laptop booths, each large enough for two users, having a soundproof privacy curtain, red in color (it was our very own time proven, highly successful one last thing detail, later copied without express written permission by a certain egotistical dogmatic pushy CEO of a sorta well known high profile company as a so-called motif for his over-hyped personal staged media events around the world), discretely covering the entrance. Even during the week they were usually occupied.

At this point, in strode a dude who seemed like the classic studly drifter, Benjamin Franklin Chambers, by name. Although we didn't know it at the time, his AOL handle was blkStud4U, but everybody knows that InterNUT screen names don't always connect with who the user really is. Many use different online names to project multiple imaginary personalities, each distinct in its own right. It has always been this way. This is Frank in reality, seen in an on-set photograph -- not exactly blk, but prolly a Stud4U -- hey, according to his ballcap, he is a True Value!

This is where begins what one might even call a classic film noir, remade to more modern tastes, as they usually are --

you may remember the 1946 flick?

John Garfield = Nick Smith, the Cafe owner
Lana Turner = Cora Smith, his tantalizing wife
Cecil Kellaway = Frank Chambers, the drifter who applied for the MAN WANTED position

his qualifications -- great positions in chambers

Based on James M. Cain's sexual novel, this film underplays the explicit quasi porno references but heats up the subtle suggestive allusions to the boiling point and beyond --

the remake opens with a MAN WANTED sign, while Cora is so well played that there's no doubt what she's offering as perks, aside from stock options , comprehensive health coverage, and a generous severance package. Without the explicit sex of the later remake, this story is a lot freer to be intellectually stimulating rather than explicit.

Lana Turner is excellent as the femme fatale, she is smoldering, as ready to erupt in spontaneous violent passion as Mount Saint Helens, and very, very desirable. Garfield is also excellent as the man trapped in her World Wide Web. The two are the very center of the film and are both superb in their respective roles. If the film has any weakness, then it may be that modern audiences need more than very subtle subliminal hints, but that's probably the viewer problem rather than the film's.

That first time we meet Cora is simply one of the most erotic, powerful scenes ever filmed -- in black and white, which only adds to the overall psychological effect. Frank is sitting having an Espresso and bagel with cream cheese and lox at the Mother Truckers' Apple Cyber Cafe counter -- Cora's husband, Nick, has gone to see a customer who asked how to get the iSight camera on the new iMac to capture anything below his face and neck -- we see an iPod Shuffle rolling on the floor. The camera follows Frank's gaze from the iPod, to the path it took on the floor, to its owner, Cora, and the reason it fell to the floor -- a close up showed no scratches on the gizmo.

The camera stops -- as does Frank's gaze -- panning in on Cora's deliciously shapely legs, shown in all their splendor from mid-thigh to heel -- Cora is wearing short shorts and a fishnet halter top. We eventually see Cora's face, and then Frank's, and we can literally see Frank's breath suddenly being sucked out of him -- he had never seen an iPod before.

OK, so I think you can imagine where the storyline leads -- nicht wahr ?

For starters, Frank immediately logs on to the Apple Store web site and orders the high end dualie Power Mac with as much memory as it can hold PLUS an additional hard drive (as if what he already has isn't enough), a top of the line graphics accelerator, the largest flat panal Studio screen, and an iPod setup for his dilapadated pick-up truck, parked outside -- he was ready to put it on his new Mother Truckers' Apple Cyber Cafe employee's tab, but Cora said NO WAY, and paid for his purchases out of her brokerage account balance.

Here are a couple quotes from that vintage film --

Frank -- I can sell anything, even a Dell, to anybody.
Cora --That's what you think.

Frank to Cora -- With my brains and your looks, we could go places.

Toward the end of the film, a postman arrived at the closed Mother Truckers' Apple Cyber Cafe door, ringing twice...... he had a very large package for Cora.

A footnote : the newly released DVD has a bonus feature on the life of John Garfield. He died in 1952 at the age of 39, a victim of the House Un-American Activities Committee. Garfield was a prominent target, whom the committee sought to discredit and destroy, in an attempt to gain credibility with the American people. How very sad that so many lives could be shattered with such implacable malice emanating from Congress itself. Let us pray it never happens again.

GAWD, I always seem to get off the track of what I wanted to write, somehow, nicht wahr ? Sorry about that.

Anyways, I was sitting at my work desk getting a couple eBay items ready to list tonight, when the doorbell rang -- although the bell is in the hallway and is quite loud, I sometimes get distracted so I installed a wireless chime thingy to the right of my eMac, that acts as a sorta backup to make sure that I don't miss someone at the door. So down the stairway I went, as he rang again -- it was the Postman, he rang twice, thus the shaggy dog story title -- come on already, fess up, you may have noticed?

He delivered a Priority package, 24.5 x 33.0 x 8.0 cm, with a postmark from Yarmouth, Maine, where ever that is -- I don't know anybody in ME. About the only thing I have personal experience with is that they make Rockport shoes in Maine -- I have a couple pairs of them -- rugged, sexy, and kewl.

So back up to my study I plodded my way, ruthlessly slit the transparent tape which was securing the box closed, and what to my wondering eyes should appear but ~~a miniature sleigh and eight tiny......~~ , sorry I do tend to go off on tangents some times, my typing error -- my overly active, concept shifting mind sometimes wanders off all by itself -- anyways, this is the extremely photogenic opened box --

the large-ish label on top explains something about the contents --

oh, my -- the smaller label is more exact, revealing precisely what the cookies are --

OMG! Who would take the time and effort to send me my favorite cookcooks? Wait, there is also a sizzlingly discrete card resting on top of the yummy treats -- could it be from Cora?

CLICK for larger view -->> -- opens in new browser window

sniff....... sniff .... WAHHHHHHHHHH

It brings tears to my weary eyes to see that someone from this virtual cyber universe thinks enough of me to send me this totally unexpected and obviously undeserved treasure chest filled with oatmeal raisin cookies! What did I do of worldwide significance to warrant this delectable treat? I already taste tested one of the stacks of cookies, and they really are very superbly schrumshisly hyperdelicious -- way better than those from Sam's Club or that super expensive high-end supermarket in West Trenton, Marrazzo's. A real gourmet delight!

OK, for those posting on the board, now that you hopefully read down this far, it's Quiz Time --

1 - Who is the secret admirer who sent me this box of cookies?

2 - Is it a male or female?

3 - Do they post on the AOL appl board?

4 - Why do you think they sent it to me?

Think of this as a new WAG contest, but one without a time limit -- hopefully enough peeps have read this far and are curious enough to submit their answers before the end of this century.

What will each of the winner/s receive? As soon as I get ten emails with the correct name of my mysterious cyber pal / friend / lover / stalker (or any combination of same), I shall send a congratulatory email to each lucky winner with the scan of the actual gift card including the last line which contains the name of my magnamous benefactor, obscured in the above pic file!

They must previously swear on a stack of bibles / korans / mayan codices (facsimiles are acceptable) / playboy centerfold editions and / or mad comics that they will never / ever reveal the privileged information they receive to anyone, living or dead, innovative Mac, imaginative Linux, hallucinatory hyper gamey out-of-this-world AlienWare, or generic boring dark side msft PC box user.

Please Note : This contest is open to anyone in the cyber universe, regardless of raciness, sexual prowess / preference [or lack thereof], dual nationality, stock option / WIC income, religious hallucinations and / or age -- the older, the better. Employees of Apple Computer or their worldwide affiliates, associates, consultants in any capacity, including their immediate and distant families (up to 26th cousins), lover/s du jour, servants, pool and estate grounds help, thoroughbred groomers, stable hands, cow punchers / herders, electricians, plumbers, chimney sweeps, pizza delivery boys, neighbors in their township / municipality, as well as those they come into contact with at any commercial establishment where they shop, are NOT eligible to participate. Don't even think about it!

Oh, yes, and my sincerest sniffling THANK YOU from the profoundest depths of my quickly palpitating heart to the peeper who sent me this kewl gift. I'll try to make sure that I click YES on the appropriate positive feedback link for ALL of your AOL new format board posts, even though that format sucks.

God Bless !