commuting, alone
stuck in the car, with my thoughts
OH, is it crowded!
There are mornings when I manage to get the car on to I85 and over to my 2nd lane from the left and start going over things that are on my mind and the next thing I know, I am passing my exit to Peachtree St.
I wonder how I got there.
Smiled at the face
in the mirror. He winked.
It was not his face.
Adapted from The Three Day Blow by Ernest Hemingway
“I’ll get some more water,” Nick said. He went out into the kitchen again. He filled the pitcher with the dipper dipping cold spring water from the pail. On his way back to the living room he passed a mirror in the dining room and looked in it. His face looked strange. He smiled at the face in the mirror and it grinned back at him. He winked at it and went on. It was not his face but it didn’t make any difference.
Seventy Two Hours.
They are missing from my life.
3 days that are gone.
Flying trip by car to Michigan and back for a family funeral.
Family, friends gathered to mourn a young man gone too soon.
Bump bump diddy bang
Bang bump bump. Michigan Roads?
Those stories are true!
Georgia, Tennessee
Kentucky, Indiana
Michigan and done
Conventions demand?
Acts we have to do? Strive for
unconventional!
all these words, thoughts, books
and all, yet, still there are times
when there are no words
Computer hatred!
Deep, real, fixed. Nothing that
baseball bat can’t fix
Been one of those days.
Someone once told me that Microsoft does not design computers to not work.
That might sound simplistic but when you realize that it is something someone, maybe me, did to the computer that is causing the problem, you can start searching for the problem.
race and sex isms
confront inevitable
tough to be a Mom
When I ran out of the house and off to the school at the top of the hill, I don’t know how much my Mom thought about the problems of racism, sexism or any number of other isms that confront today’s Moms.
Maybe I just wasn’t aware.
Today, to me, it seems there is so much outside the door of your home that HAS to be dealt with.
That confrontation for a Mom with racism, sexism and other isms is inevitable.
With that in mind, our children have no greater champion than my wife Leslie.
She was BORN with the idea that injustice anywhere is injustice anywhere.
She might have issues with our kids over any number of sins BUT if any one of them was ever held back or limited in anyway by their race, by their sex by their beliefs, by our family structure, then confrontation with Leslie was inevitable.
And I pity the fool on the other side of this confrontation because they never knew what hit them.
Leslie always did her best to raise our kids but when came to being their CHAMPION, there was no one better to be on their side.
music, emotions
sounds that you hear what you feel
quiet city plays
I am in awe of the concept of music.
I was up early this morning. It was quiet. Gray outside, slowly getting brighter.
Quiet City by Aaron Copland was playing as I had my morning coffed.
The bond between the music, my emotions and my physical surroundings was surreal.
I do not understand how music like this is even thought up let alone written down.
How do Copland, Mozart and Ellington do that?
I was taken out of myself and this world for a few minutes of something beyond words.
Are there words? Maybe I don’t know them yet.
After almost 60 years maybe this is the best explanation for reading and wanting to read I have ever come up with.
My search for words.
As for the music. I can’t write it. I can’t play an instrument. I can enjoy it. Isn’t that enough.
As for moments like this, I don’t they can be planned, they can only happen.
This was came to end when my youngest son got up.
He can’t go through a doorway without slamming it.
He cannot take a shower without singing and whistling.
He cannot have breakfast with making a fruit smoothie with his rocket blender.
So much for quiet. But for a short time I was in my civilized world.
Clarence Day wrote, ” The more I thought about it, the less I wanted to be a civilized man. After all, I had had a very light lunch, and I was tired and hungry. What with fingernails and improving books and dancing school, and sermons on Sundays, the few chocolate éclairs that a civilized man got to eat were not worth it.”
Maybe not chocolate éclairs but the moment of this morning was worth it.
No Haiku For You 