Fram, the man at home & at rest

Sorry about the "tiny" photos; "punch it" to make it big.

This guy has many forms of recreation ....

We hope at least some of the rumors have been dispelled and a more accurate foundation has been put in place for understanding the nature of Fram following yesterday's presentation of his love for young ladies throughout the world. Incidentally, we are trying to establish whether another of his ancestors might actually have been Casanova the First, who was last seen a couple of hundred years ago leading an archaeological survey along the North Dakota-Canadian border in search of Viking artifacts.

For tonight's examination, we will look at some of Fram's favorite leisure time activities. His interests are vast, his love life unreal and his accomplishments many, so it follows that Fram must occasionally indulge himself with a bit of rest, relaxation and recreation.

Glancing left to right across the top row of photographs, we learn that Fram actually is an accomplished guitar player, and frequently spends an evening at home practicing his love songs. He is shown here rehearsing for his next appearance with the Flying Elvises. Fram is an adept student who frequently attends night classes in his never-ending quest for knowledge. Here we see him wearing the sweatshirt of his alma mater while treading his way across the campus searching for his car. Fram grew up in pool halls. (Not actually, but he spent a lot of time in them.) On Saturday nights, he often can be found at the corner bar, hustling pool games with people who think country boys are hicks.

Returning to the left side of the array, on the second tier, we see Fram practicing his bedroom eyes stare. Just uncanny, isn't it? How can any young lady resist? In the middle, we see Fram practicing his dance steps. Some have said his moves are bit old-fashioned and unconventional, but none would deny that all eyes focus on him when he steps onto the ballroom floor. Moving along, Fram is great with children. It is not unusual for him to be found playing football or just simply hanging out with the kid next door. Below that, we see an old photo of Fram, back during the days when he smoked. He absolutely loved Cuban cigars, and still has revolutionary dreams even today.

To the left again. Fram likes fast cars, but he also indulges himself with leading the motorcycle pack down the highway at breakneck speeds searching for Nirvana -- or for Barbara Allan, or for Betty Lou, or .... ah, yes, born to be wild, that is our boy, Fram. And, yes, Dennis and Jane's brother often ride with him. Fram does have his serious side. In the photo immediately below that, he is shown supervising landscape improvement projects in his backyard. No project too large to tackle; that is Fram’s motto. In the center, we see one of Fram's neighbors doing her daily exercise routine. Being the considerate fellow he is, Fram goes to great pains to make himself available to advise her and to be her spotter while she pumps iron. Most people do not know this, but Fram once was a roadie for David Bowie. He sometimes reminisces about their nights of heavy duty partying after a concert. By the way, Fram did all Bowie's stunt work and, from backstage, sang harmony on the high notes.

Returning to the left in the bottom row, it is possible to encounter Fram cruising his neighborhood in his best shorts, on the lookout for Bridgette Bardot look-alikes. In the center we see a miniature Fram, walking the city's streets in the rain, still searching, searching, searching, for his car, but getting valuable exercise at the same time. Last but not least, we see Fram's three closest and dearest friends and co-workers. Newsmen extraordinaire, are these three musketeers when working in concert with Fram.

We, here behind the scenes, have been debating if we should end the production of this mountain of information about Fram. Maybe one more tomorrow. Too much data about Fram to digest in a short amount of time might short circuit the system even of those with the hard-core souls and most impact-resistant hearts. Best to absorb Fram gradually, sort of like chocolate or banana cream pie.

Pity the men whose vast desire
was both the fuel and the fire,
who could not, though we can, divide
the plucking finger from the lyre,
but set their souls and died.

Between the poles of love and death
they too were torn and spent their breath
in vain endeavors to decide
between the garden and the wreath,
and still endeavored when they died.

Pity those men who from the start
defied the desert of the heart,
the victims of some crazy pride
in love, in armies or in art,
who won or lost their game and died.

Some lines from a poem
by Michael Hamburger