Word: Applesauce

applesauce

[ap-uh l-saws]

noun

1. apples stewed to a soft pulp and sometimes sweetened or spiced with cinnamon.
2. Slang. nonsense; bunk.

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            Nick looked at the counter and blinked in surprise.  Every inch of it was covered with bags filled with apples.  There must have been at least a dozen bags there, and each was stuffed to the brim.

               “So, I take it the apple picking was a success?” He said. 

               His wife, Jessica, sighed and looked over the bounty of red and green fruit.  “Too much so, yes.” She said.

               “Why did you pick so many?  You know we can’t eat them all.”

               “Julie wants to try her hand at making applesauce, so she insisted we pick a lot.”

               “And she couldn’t have made do with two or three bags?  I mean, how much does she want to make?”

               “Well.”  Jessica said.  She rubbed the back of her neck and stretched the word out.  Nick had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.  “You see, she kind of wants to try making a unique recipe, so she needs a lot of apples to experiment with.”

               “Oh.  I see.  And you didn’t say no to her, why?”

               “I tried, I really did.  But she got that look in her eyes and…and I just couldn’t.”

               It was Nick’s turn to sigh.  “And here I thought it was the dad who can’t resist the daughter.  Please tell me you’ll at least keep things simple.  You remember the last time she tried to experiment with food.”

               Both of them let out a shudder at the memory of the ten-year old’s attempts to make a new kind of cake.  They had been scraping the oddly chunky batter out of the carpet for days.

               “She said she found a few recipes online that she wants to try out first.  And I’ll make sure I’m with her the entire time.  I’ll do my best to keep things reasonable.”

               Nick nodded.  He still could not stop himself from imagining what terrible fate might befall the poor, innocent apples.  He would have to pin his hopes on his wife’s supervision to reign in their daughter’s more unusual tastes and ideas.

               “So what should we do if something does go wrong?” Nick asked.  Jessica looked over the rows of plastic orchard bags.

               “If things get too out of hand, we can always give some away and tell her store bought apples aren’t good for making applesauce with.  That should take care of it.”

               “Okay.  Maybe we should hide a bag or two beforehand though, just in case.  You know, limit her materials to limit the potential damage?”

               “It won’t work.  You know she’s a smart kid.  She knows how many bags we brought home.  Hiding them will only make her want to search the house for them.”

               Nick did know that.  He just hoped that Julie would not care, and be content with the still large number of apples still available.  But, knowing his child, Jessica was probably correct. 

               “Well then, I guess we’d better get ready for anything.” Nick said.  “Who knows, maybe she’ll actually make something good this time.”

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Apples are tasty.  That's really all that needs to be said, right?

Word: coup de foudre

coup de foudre

[kooduh foo-druh]

noun, plural coups de fou·dre [kooduh foo-druh] /kudə ˈfu drə/. French.

1. a thunderbolt.
2. love at first sight.

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               It was a lovely, clear day without a cloud in the sky.  Which is why Julius was so shocked—both literally and figuratively—when a bolt of lightning crashed down less than twenty feet in front of him.  He covered his eyes against the light from the literal bolt from the blue and shook out his limbs.  The electricity did not seem to have done him any harm him, so that was good.

               When he finally opened his eyes, he froze.  There was a woman there.  Standing right where the lightning had struck.  And she was exquisite.  It was like the best features of every Hollywood actress were combined into one perfect woman.  And when he looked at her, a large, goofy grin spread across his face.  He was not sure if it was because of the electricity or something deeper, but he swore he heard a chorus of angels singing Barry White songs.

               The woman wore a shimmering grey jumpsuit that hugged her flawless figure.  Her glistening black hair was cut short, ending at the top of her neck.  Julius had never been a fan of short hair, but on her, he could not picture her any other way.  His heart beat like a jackhammer when he saw her lustrous, hazel eyes.  Everything about her was amazing.

The woman was looking at the area where she stood.  She had a curious expression on her face.  She looked at a silver armband on her right wrist.  She tapped at it a few times, like it was a tiny keyboard.  She muttered something and resumed looking around.  She saw him and made her way towards him.

Julius tried to calm his breathing, but was unable to.  The goddess-like woman was clearly going to talk to him!  The very idea was the greatest thing ever.

“Excuse me.” She said.  The sound sent butterflies loose in his stomach.  “I seem to have gotten lost, and my band doesn’t seem to be connecting to anything.  Perhaps you can help?”

Julius was too lost in her eyes to say anything.  She frowned.

“Is there something wrong?” She asked.  “Do you require medical attention?”

Julius finally managed to shake himself out of his stupor.  “Uh, no, no.  I’m, uh, I’m fine, really.”

“Are you sure?  Perhaps you should seek a medical professional.  I will go seek aid from someone else while you do so.”

“No!” Her leaving would be terrible.  He needed to stay near her.  His very soul cried out for her presence.  “No, I’m fine, really.  I was just, uh, surprised by your arrival is all.”  There was so much else he could have said, but not without coming off as desperate or creepy.

“I…see.” She said slowly.  She raised an eyebrow and continued.  “Well, regardless, I would like to request aid.”

“Okay.  I can do that.  Probably.  Maybe.”

“Good.  I have become lost, you see, and since my band seems to lack a connection, I am unable to determine my current location.”

“Oh, sure.  I can do that.  We’re in Bear Mountain State Park.  I can even help you get back to the road.  And then maybe I can show you around a bit more.  I live around here, so I know all the best places to do, uh, stuff.”

“Geographic location is appreciated, I suppose, but I require more detail.”

Julius was getting a bit confused.  What kind of specifics did she want?  The county?  Surely not the state or country.  But best to give as much as he could.  It might help get on her good side, which is something he definitely wanted.

“Uh, well, it’s in Rockland county in—”

“As I said, geographic data, while appreciated, is not needed.” She said calmly. 

“Oh.  Okay, what do you need then?”

“I require chronological coordinates.”

It took him a moment to realize what she was talking about.  Most of that was spent gazing at her perfect beauty, but he finally managed to say something.

“You mean the date?  Uh, it’s August, 11^th.”  When she simply looked at him, he kept going.  “It’s 2:30 pm if that helps.”

“Any data is appreciated.”

“Okay.” He was starting to get a little worried.  What did she want.  She still looked at him like she wanted more details.  “Uh, the year is 2018?”

That got her attention.  She looked worried and suddenly nervous. 

“2018 of which calendar?”

Julius struggled to remember what it was called.  “I think it’s the Gregorian calendar, but I could be wrong.”

The woman’s eyes opened wide and she opened and closed her exquisite, bright red lips.  Her entire body seemed to shake.

“No.  No, that…that’s impossible.  I…I can’t be…no.  How…how could this happen?  This shouldn’t have happened.  There must be some mistake.  You.”  She said the last word quickly and with a hard edge.  “Have you ever seen anything like this before?”

She held up her wrist, presenting the band to him.  He looked at it closely.  It seemed like a normal silver armband to him, which he told her.  She let out a pained wail and collapsed.  It pained Julius to see her like that.  But he was also unsure of what to do to comfort her.  Should he rub her shoulder?  Should he say something? 

“Is…is something wrong?” He ended up asking.

“I’m trapped.” She said.  “I’m stuck here in an early digital era.  No way home.” She said quietly.  She kept saying the same general thing over and over in different ways.  Once Julius recovered from the heartache he got from seeing her like that, he managed to piece together what he was saying.

“Wait, are…are you a, a time traveler?” He asked.  She nodded.  “And that lightning was, like, the method you use or something?”

“Lightning?  Did…did you see a bolt of lightning?”  He nodded.  “Oh dear.  That would do it, yes.  No, the lightning has nothing to do with my method of temporal traversal.  It must have interrupted my travel and caused to me exit the time stream too soon.”

“I have no idea what any of that means, or why a normal bolt of lightning would do anything to you, but if you need help, I’ll do what I can.”

A sad smile crossed her lips, sending the butterflies swirling again.

“You have my thanks.  And I believe I will accept your offer.  I will, after all, need a guide to this time period.  I have only read about this time in historical data, and have no information on daily activities.”

“Okay, great.  Let’s get started.  I’m Julius.  What about you?  Oh, uh, are there still names in the future, or do you, like, use numbers or something?”

A slight chuckle escaped her.  “We use names.  Although, there was a period where serial numbers were used in the 25^th century, that period was short lived.  My name is Keela.  It is a pleasure to meet you, Julius.”

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Some Barry White songs for you.  Because everyone needs more Barry White in their lives.

Word: Exoteric

 

exoteric

[ek-suh-ter-ik]

adjective

1. suitable for or communicated to the general public.
2. not belonging, limited, or pertaining to the inner or select circle, as of disciples or intimates.
3. popular; simple; commonplace.

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             “I’ve done it!” Mr. James cried as he barged into Mr. Martin’s office.

               Mr. Martin was so startled by the sudden intrusion that he nearly spilled the cup of coffee he had been sipping. 

               “What?  What did you do?” He asked his portly colleague.

               “I’ve created the ultimate music group.  One engineered to be so popular it’ll be everywhere.”

               “A music group?  Really?  Single acts are more popular these days.”

               “Yes, but groups are due for a comeback.  And this one will be the one to do it.  Come on, I’ve got them getting set up with testers right now.”

               Mr. Martin sighed and followed.  The building was large, and neither of the men were in particularly good shape, but they still arrived at the small test studio in a reasonable amount of time.  Inside, a group of employees were fussing over five girls that could have been anywhere from 18 to 23.  They were all very pretty, and each was of a different ethnicity, consisting of the board room’s five major ethnicities; White, Black, Asian, Middle Eastern, and Latin American.

               “So?  What do you think?” Mr. James asked proudly.  “Perfect, aren’t they?”

               “All I see is a group of girls that can be found anywhere.”

               “That’s part of the charm.  They’ll make girls think they can be famous too, and boys think they can meet them, and maybe more.  It’s perfect.  They’ll be this generation’s Spice Girls.”

               Mr. Martin was unimpressed.  The only thing he could see was that, while all of them were very good looking, each of them was also quite a bit different than the others.  Each one would appeal to a different type of person, which would indeed give them wide ranging popularity should they hit the mainstream.  Still, that was only on the surface.  There was a lot more to a group than just looks.

               “There had better be more to them than looks.” Mr. Martin said.

               “They do, trust me.  And they each add to the diversity.  Let’s see, Jessica is the shy, quiet one.” He pointed at the blonde, white girl with thick but somehow stylish glasses.  “Lin is a lesbian, enough said.” He said while pointing at the slender, doll like Asian, who was indeed doing everything she could to get closer to the others.  “Destiny is the sporty, athletic one.” He motioned towards the tall black girl who was indeed in very good shape.  “Maria is the fun one.  You know, the one who likes to party and stuff.” He nodded towards the Latina who looked like she could be on the cover of any fashion magazine.  “And Leah is the geeky, nerdy one.” He motioned to the short, curvy Middle Eastern girl.  “Together, they cover just about any and every group there is.  They’re perfect.”

               “Okay, that sounds good, I guess.”  Mr. James said.  His mind was starting to work.  He could not help it.  His business senses were feeding him ideas, and about how each girl could have a unique set of songs related to their individual traits.  It could work, at least on some level.  “But what about songs?”

               “Songs?”

               “Yeah, you know, songs?  What will they be singing?  And can they even sing?”

               “Oh, probably some peppy, pop things that the kids love and parents don’t dismiss.  You know the kind.”

               “You haven’t thought of the actual music?”

               “Let the music people worry about that.  We have more important things to work on with these five.  Now, let’s talk merchandise.”

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Why do I get the feeling that this is how most boy bands got started?  Seriously, some of them feel like they were cooked up in a board room instead of a music studio.