The other night, on the tube, a lawyer was advertising a CD that one could use to write one's will.
I recognized the lawyer as the man who represented O.J. Simpson at his arraignment after the murders in LA.
One of the first things the lawyer did was to present to the judge a brown envelope for admission to the evidence room for safe-keeping. I think the envelope contained the knife which was never found.
It was never found because it's locked away in the evidence room in LA.
Of course, when the high powered defence team took over, they never requested presentation of the brown envelope's contents. They may not have been aware of its existance. So the knife, probably with condemnatory traces of blood, is hidden safe forever by order of the arraigning judge.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Monday, April 25, 2011
April Showers, Snow, Hail, High Winds, Winter
It has been the worst April ever. We have broken all records for terrible weather.
Take heart, though. Here's an April Poem:
THROUGH MY OWENS-CORNING WINDOW
Every April it's the same.
Never fails.
The pool is not yet ready
For summer fun,
Its waters black
And clogged with floating leaves.
Confused,
These geese make their approach,
Flaps down--
Of course they're down--
They're geese.
They glide in smoothly
And they land.
A pair who mean to stay.
Sad to say,
Some weeks from now,
They will have to move away
With broken hearts
Before their young
Are old enough to fly.
Each year I promise to learn
The care and feeding
Of the baby geese,
The goslings.
But I do not
And would explain to them,
But they would never understand.
You can put your long underwear away, but keep your raincoat handy.
Take heart, though. Here's an April Poem:
THROUGH MY OWENS-CORNING WINDOW
Every April it's the same.
Never fails.
The pool is not yet ready
For summer fun,
Its waters black
And clogged with floating leaves.
Confused,
These geese make their approach,
Flaps down--
Of course they're down--
They're geese.
They glide in smoothly
And they land.
A pair who mean to stay.
Sad to say,
Some weeks from now,
They will have to move away
With broken hearts
Before their young
Are old enough to fly.
Each year I promise to learn
The care and feeding
Of the baby geese,
The goslings.
But I do not
And would explain to them,
But they would never understand.
You can put your long underwear away, but keep your raincoat handy.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
New York visa vis Paris
A few days ago, I was reminising about New York, and that got me to thinking about an even more exciting place, Paris.
Parisiens, call impolite.
You might be right.
But rare filet, they're not the pork
Like in New York.
Parisian women dress in satins
Not Manhattans;
Kiss like wine, not gin and tonics
Like in the Bronix.
Goils in Paris don't go bonkers
Like in Yonkers,
Don't go gaga over flattery.
Check your Battery.
Goils beautify Champs Elysees,
But never on the Great White Way,
Like junk bonds in a fraud
At Fourth and Broad.
Prettiest eyes you'll ever see
Await you on Le Pont Marie.
Disinterest is thorough
On New York's old Triborough.
So go to gay Paree and see
The finest goils that there can be.
Don't even look in ...
Brooklyn.
A couple of my favorite goils are going to Paris soon. I've recommended Angelina's on
Rue de Rivoli for, among other goodies, the best hot chocolate.
Parisiens, call impolite.
You might be right.
But rare filet, they're not the pork
Like in New York.
Parisian women dress in satins
Not Manhattans;
Kiss like wine, not gin and tonics
Like in the Bronix.
Goils in Paris don't go bonkers
Like in Yonkers,
Don't go gaga over flattery.
Check your Battery.
Goils beautify Champs Elysees,
But never on the Great White Way,
Like junk bonds in a fraud
At Fourth and Broad.
Prettiest eyes you'll ever see
Await you on Le Pont Marie.
Disinterest is thorough
On New York's old Triborough.
So go to gay Paree and see
The finest goils that there can be.
Don't even look in ...
Brooklyn.
A couple of my favorite goils are going to Paris soon. I've recommended Angelina's on
Rue de Rivoli for, among other goodies, the best hot chocolate.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
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.
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.
Monday, July 12, 2010
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."
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
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!
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!
Thursday, May 27, 2010
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.
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)