March, 2011

Another March, ambivalent:
Winter, summer, sun, or wind,
Rain or snow.
Just six of one, or of the other,
Never really warming,
Sometimes really cold.
Like the Marches of our lives,
No longer child, nor fully grown.
It's so easy in October
When we know
What's coming next.

Two of my grandsons visited New York recently, and one of the main attractions was a trip to the Statue of Liberty. That put me in mind of Emma Lazerus and her moving poem. The words have been put to music--Fred Waring and the Pennsylvanians produced a choral rendition that has now begun to play over and over in my head:

Send me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breath free,
The restless refuse of your teeming shores.
Send these, the hopeless, tempest-tossed to me.
I lift my lamp beside the Golden Door.

And that triggers another story with the lady with the lamp in it:

The torch I carry is handsome.
It's worth a heartache in ransome.
And when twilight steals,
I know how the lady in the harbor feels.

When I want rain, I get sunny weather.
I'm just as blue as the sky.
Since love has gone, can't get myself together.
Guess I'll hang my tears out to dry.

Friends ask me out.
I tell them I'm busy.
I need a new aliby.
I sit at home and ask myself, "Who is he?"
Guess I'll hang my tears out to dry.

Dry little teardrops,
My little teardrops
Hanging on a string of dreams.
Dry little memories,
My little memories
Remind me of our crazy schemes.

Some people said, "Just forget about her."
I gave that treatment a try.
Strangely enough I got along without her.
Then one day she passed me right by. Oh well,
I guess I'll hang my tears out to dry.

Anybody know who wrote that? Pretty song.

Happy Birthday to me

Recently I celebrated a birthday. A dear friend sent a card that said, "A little bird told me that you were having a birthday." On the inside of the card it said, "And a geckel told me that I could save 15% on my auto insurance."

Books

It's June. Yesterday I was honored at the block party on Elm Park where we lived when we first moved to Elmhurst. Distinguished Alumnus. That was prompted by Rain In the Afternoon, just published. It was a great honor!

Talking of books, there's a poem in Parts Left Over about books:

Friends are like books,
Meant to be enjoyed,
Some more, some less.
Some charm though mostly fiction,
Some instruct with much to tell,
Regale, arouse,confess,
Or entertain one well.

Though never seen again,
Some will be remembered still,
Or merely shelved.
Some are kept close by,
And there might be one
You want to keep
Right there beside you
Where you sleep.

So far the Hawks have dominated the Stanley Cup Series. Neither game has been a thing of beauty, but the job got done. I guess hockey was never a thing of beauty anyway--like losing seven teeth to a flying puck. Imagine it!

Another Astute Prediction

Sunday it's the Hawks vs. Philadelphia. Having been completely out of touch on the Sharks series, I need to be more cautious with my predictions. Both teams have beaten everything that has been thrown at them. That's how they will face eachother. It will all depend upon the clock and who scored last. It's a toss up.

They are trying to stop up the oil spill today. I harbor the nightmare that nothing will stop the spill, and that gradually it will dispoil all the oceans of the world and their coastlines. It could mean the end--not of the world which will go on spinning in space--but of the human race. Hope I'm wrong again, and that the attempt today will succeed.

The National Guard has been sent to close the Arizona border. The Nolicans are right about this point. You can't reform immigration till you stop the human oil spill across the Mexican border.

So Much For Predictions

Well, if you saw the Sharks play last night, you could have been sure that they would win. They mounted the most offence, they drew first blood. They had possession of the puck and took more shots at the cage than the Hawks. The crowd was going wild.
But the Hawks won number 3.

Well, the Sharks are due. Look to Sunday.

I told you it would be spring

I also told you that the Sharks would win.

May: From PartsLeft Over

May ... from Parts Left Over:

(Oh, my God! It's about being in love. Ahem.)

I had thought to bring you oranges
Or a tiny pearl to dangle
At the hollow of your throat,
A kiss away from where my heart would be,
To dream of in the night
When you are fast asleep,
Or violets to stay with you
When I am gone away,
Or purple ribbons,
They to tie your hair
Which in its own way falls
To lie against your face
As so would mine.
I had thought to do these things
And someday I will, but for today
I only have a tear, a smile,
Words spoken in the setting sun,
And then the night.

Spring will come to the midwest tomorrow, and we can begin brewing sun tea, that loveliest of beverages. Yesterday we had purple asparagus. It was exceptional! GM is peofitable--"as Gm goes, so goes America." Things are looking up. C'mon, Dow Jones, do your stuff.

So far, the Hawks have made a liar out of me, but I'm sticking with my prediction. I'll be so happy to be wrong.