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Another NYE

December 31, 2018

Because the other 364 days of the year aren’t bad enough, along comes the last one – day number 365 – and along with it another New Year’s Eve where you really feel like a loser when you’re spending the night home alone.

Here’s a ballad from Tom Waits. The person who uploaded the song thoughtfully added the lyrics to the description in case you want to read them (and this is a Tom Waits song so I don’t know why you wouldn’t want to read them). Considering the goings on at this NYE party it’s maybe not so bad being alone after all.

“And we all started to sing . . .”

Happy New Year to you!


It’s Christmas & a Merry one to you

December 24, 2018

I like Christmas because it’s the one day of the year where pretty much everyone says nice things, does nice things and thinks nice things. This contrasts with what I believe are the majority of folks who claim to act this way – a way that’s in accordance with their professed religious beliefs – but really don’t, on the other 364 days of the year. Below is a quote from John Steinbeck. Please excuse the gendered language, but it was written back in 1938 and taken from his journal and used in the introduction in one of the later releases of “Of Mice and Men”. If you can see your way past the language of the times I think his words are as relevant today as they were eighty years ago, and I think our country and our world wound benefit if we followed them every day of the year, not just one of them. They might even help more than silent pleas to a heavenly body/bodies, who knows?

“In every bit of honest writing in the world, there is a base theme. Try to understand men, if you understand each other you will be kind to each other. Knowing a man well never leads to hate and nearly always leads to love. There are shorter means, many of them. There is writing promoting social change, writing punishing injustice, writing in celebration of heroism, but always that base theme. Try to understand each other.” – John Steinbeck

Be kind to someone today and for the next 364 days. Merry Christmas to you.

Terrible Poetry Contest (week 5)

December 11, 2018

It’s the Fifth Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest hosted by Chelsea Owens!

This week Chelsea says that the topic is ‘Twas the Night before Christmas. I thought it was interesting that she chose that topic because if you look closely at the calendar you’ll see that Christmas is – you ready for this? – only a couple of weeks away!

Coincidence? Well, you know what Shakespeare said: “You speak an infinite deal of nothing.” Of course that has nothing to do with coincidence but it does make me feel a little self-conscious every time I think of it. Anyway, back to coincidence. So this Christmasy prompt falling so close to Christmas is, as baseball great Yogi Berra once said, “That’s too coincidental to be a coincidence.”

It’s week five and you can read the rules by clicking right HERE.

Christmas Eve Thing

Twas the night before Christmas and I’m all by myself
got my camera to photograph that goofy red elf.

2018’s the year where I’ll get him recorded
and for my effort the Pulitzer committee will see me rewarded.

But I’m hungry so first I’ll make me some nice, hearty bisque.
And maybe I’ll make it with some gooey lutefisk.

Can I ask you a question, my Christmasy chum?
Did you ever try writing some poetry, hmmm?

Don’t answer ‘cuz honestly I really don’t care
anymore than I care ‘bout your smelly footwear.

So maybe, dear reader, I’ll deck the halls because:
I really want my two front teeth,
or maybe I just want
or blue,
or white,
Sorry, my thoughts became a little abstracted, but when I saw who mommy was kissing I got a bit distracted.

Now I’ve lost my count in this Christmas extravaganza
and I know Chelsea said only eight or nine when it comes to the stanza.

(I just counted and that’s seven. Please, dear reader, pretend you didn’t just read this parenthetical non-stanza. It’ll just be our little secret; alongside that one time when Dasher and Comet got some . . . oops, never mind that and forget I even mentioned it)

I have one final thought for you before it’s too late
(and no, it’s not to tickle my manly breastplate)

It’s whether you’re at sea or straddling an isthmus,
Please have yourself a merry, happy, jolly, healthy little Christmas.

= = = =

And remember, as Pearl Bailey says, it’s OK to ask for money!

Terrible Poetry Contest (week 4)

December 6, 2018

From Chelsea Owens it’s the weekly Terrible Poetry Contest. You can join in the fun and read the full instructions here. Please do!

This week:

The topic is That Object That Always Breaks in Your House. In It’s a Wonderful Life, George Bailey keeps pulling off that darn banister knob. Chez moi, it’s a heat register originally glued under my kitchen island counter. Maybe yours is a loose bit of carpet or a lightbulb that burns out within a week.

What’s the limit? Word count needs to be between 3 and 153 words. In mathematics terms, that means 3<P<153.

= = = =

O! Radio! (153 words)

The radio’s antenna is bad.
When it first broke: “Oh, egad!”
I fixed it with glue,
what else could I do?

My head: stuffed like the brick. Oh, antenna, desist.

With frustration I pace, “Ah,” I to frustration. “Why do I tarry? Why not I make merry?”

Dash the radio. (Mary?) Hosanna! From where? From my despair do I dare to pose such a posing question?

Remove your madding thoughts. Becalm like the bluebird.

Explain, voice, my choice. Will my radio play? Will my hips again sway?

I wait sans answer.

The faucet drips leathery through my vino-filled veins. The antennaless radio’s static-buzz, like the vivific current of the vacant velvety Vermillion river vaguely venturing via Verndale home to Victoria.

(plop . . .) Oh Mary, forsake me not.

(buzz . . .) Yet I stand

(plop . . . ) like the deerskin covering the thorny tree,

(buzz . . .) forsaken.

Terrible Poetry

November 28, 2018

Chelsea Owens is a talented writer who blogs over here and I just discovered that she recently started a weekly Terrible Poetry Contest and that sounds like it’s too much fun to pass up. If you want to read about the terrible poems or the contest then just go here.

This week’s form is haiku and the topic is falling snow.

I’m watchin’ snow fall.
Snow is rain, but frozen, yup –
and it really sucks.

And here’s a bonus haiku joke or joke haiku (or joiku?)

Hope the snow keeps up.
Really? Why would you want that?
Then it won’t come down!

And here’s a good poem, not a haiku, but that’s ok. It’s got not only snow, but a snowman.



What’s that sound?

July 2, 2018

What’s that sound, is someone singing?

The 2018 baseball season is just about half over and it looks like the Minnesota Twins chances of seeing any postseason play are all over.

On the plus side, right now we’re in 2nd place in the American League Central division which makes being among the 10 worst teams in Major League Baseball a little easier to ignore.

On the negative side, we’re reminded (once again) that professional baseball in Minnesota is little more than a joke and that success on the field is left to luck.

On the positive side, maybe now someone, somewhere, will realize that 2017 was an aberration and that trusting Paul Molitor to manage a professional baseball team was a mistake.

On the negative side, there’s always 2019.

Now what’s that sound?


Making Black Bean Burgers

May 14, 2018

You know that feeling when you’re making Black Bean Burgers and you have the beans rinsed and drained and you have the onions and red pepper chopped and you have the ketchup and all the spices measured out and you have the pinch of cayenne pepper set aside in it’s honored place as “Final Ingredient and you go to add the oatmeal and . . .

and . . .

and . . .



and the next thing you know you’re looking at the floor and saying, “Oops”?

I have that feeling right now.

It’s a little frustrating because I was looking forward to the BB burgers and this would have been two dinners and two lunches but I guess it is what it is, right? This is a good time to take a deep breath and be content that I tried my best and just focus on aimlessness.



And if you like playing Where’s Waldo, that’s my big toe in the lower right corner of the picture.

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