Saturday, July 25, 2009

Summertime Blues



The hardest part about S&G ... aside from YOUR struggling through what I’ve written ... is THE BEGINNING, that is, how and where do I begin?

I’ve said it before, and it bears repeating ... I sit down at the keyboard on Friday evening ... and I don’t know whether to start at the beginning and try to find my way forward ... or start at the end and work my way backward.

The alternative, of course, is to start in the middle and work in both directions.

-S&G-

Another possibility, I suppose, would be to start earlier in the week ... thus avoiding the Friday evening panic attack over having nothing to say ... or, worse, waking up on Saturday morning with the realization that I forgot to write anything the night before.

Been there, done that. And, believe me, that’s real panic.

-S&G-

In any event, here I am on a Friday night ... racing the clock. Fortunately, it has given me a head start (I need all the help I can get). Oops! There it goes ... that blasted alarm.

More later.

-S&G-

LATER ... You know you’re a Floridian if ... A good parking place has nothing to do with distance from the store, but everything to do with SHADE. - courtesy of HELEN (Florida)

-S&G-

THANK GOODNESS for those who find time to respond to S&G. Their e-mails really help to keep me going ... even if my slowness in responding sometimes would indicate otherwise. Those e-mails are like breaths of air ... and (puff-puff) I really need that.

-S&G-

LOREE (Kansas) liked last week’s poem ... "Brittle Poems" ... which mentioned, among other things, catching fireflies and stashing them in a jar. Reminded Loree of her great-granddaughter who, when she visits, usually has a jar with her ... and spends a lot of time chasing down bugs of all kinds:

"Her last visit produced eyes as big as saucers, and a need for a jar, since she had forgotten her own. So excited she could barely talk, she came running in, describing this HUGE bug she needed the jar for.

"Turns out it was one of those shells that locusts leave behind, clinging to a tree or whatever.

"That reminded me of what I used to use them for. I could spend hours on the ground, laying out a farm with twigs, and then rounding up those locust shells for cows! One of my favorite toys (or games, if you prefer) was doing that!

"Can you imagine a kid in this day and age taking off the earphones and putting the I-Pod away, to go build a dairy farm with twigs and locusts?"

-S&G-

REMEMBER WHEN? ... You got your windshield cleaned, oil checked, and gas pumped without asking ... all for free, every time. And you didn’t pay for air ... and you got trading stamps to boot! - courtesy of WALT (Ohio)

-S&G-

PROFESSOR SQUIGGLEE ... got one response to his request for a show of hands last week ... and, if you read the "footnote" that was added later ... decided that makes it unanimous ... right? Sorry, to find out WHAT was unanimous, you’ll need to backtrack to that installment ... and don’t forget to scan down to OOPS!

-S&G-

MUCH LATER ... I just realized that ... providing I find some way of pulling this installment all together ... and the old computer is still wheezing but working ... it will be posted on July 25.

The significance of that? Well, look at the calendar. It means that only four months from this very morning ... we’ll hop of bed and go running downstairs in our pajamas (be careful not to trip) ... to see what Santa has left under the tree for us.

Oh, I hope you’ve been good ... and you get what you want. Me? I’d like to get EVERYTHING ... but I know there’s not enough room under our tree for all that stuff ... so I’d gladly settle for a winning lottery ticket.

Which reminds me ... one of my sons keeps reminding me that buying a lottery ticket doesn’t materially improve my chances of being The Big Winner. Still ...

-S&G-

TODAY’S POEM ... Let’s not get involved in a discussion of memory (I think mine’s around here someplace ... but I’m beginning to wonder) but I know ... those of you with any kind of memory will recognize having seen this poem before. I hope you won’t mind my sharing it with you just one more time. It seems so timely. This one was also originally published in Capper’s:
 
SUMMERTIME BLUES

I've got those
low-down,
good for nothin'
summertime blues.
My handkerchief
has wilted,
my shorts have
turned to glue,
my socks have
already melted
and run down
into my shoes.
Oh, I've got 'em bad,
as bad as they can be,
those prickly-pested,
heat infested,
good for nothin'
summertime blues.

-S&G-

COMMENT? Feel free ... below, if you like.

Or if you prefer e-mail, that's fine, too ... especially for more detailed observations, to




and it helps if you put "Squiggles" or "S&G" ... something like that ... in the subject line (just remember, no religion or politics ... please!)

-S&G-

UNTIL NEXT TIME ... take care ... see ya!

-S&G-
© 2009

Saturday, July 18, 2009

Brittle Poems

(I'm intrigued by reflections ... the various ways in which they mirror real objects ... in this case providing squiggly images on the water)

Looking back ... I don’t do a lot of that, for fear of bumping into things (I do enough bumping into ... when I’m looking straight ahead) ... but I’m looking back now to Monday, March 24, 2003.

And what was so memorable about that date? Nothing. It was just the date on a printout of an e-mailed installment of S&G ... and I guess some of you remember what that was like ... I’d put together a "newsletter," set it up to go out to three special mailing lists ... and send it, via a certain online service, to numerous states ... and a couple of countries abroad.

Oh, those were the days! Until that certain online service brought it to a sudden halt ... without any notice ... no explanation ... no recourse ... despite the fact that all of those on the mailing lists had ASKED to receive the FREE e-mailed S&G.

Meanwhile, I kept receiving all those e-mailings, via that online service, that I hadn’t asked for, and didn’t want to receive. Go figure.

But that was another day, another issue.

S&G went homeless for a while, stopped, started, stopped ... and finally started again ... HERE.

Now where was I? Oh, yes ... Monday, March 24, 2003. This is part of what I said then:

Moderation in all things.

I’ve long preached that. Especially as it applies to others. And now I’ve begun to practice it myself. Not in all things, perhaps, but in some. Well, a few.

Shoveling snow, for example. I used to approach snow as the mortal enemy, and I didn’t stop ... often didn’t pause ... until that last intruding flake had been cast aside.

As I’ve become older, I’ve become more sensible, thanks to the intercession of my own reasonably good brain, and some very persistently good advice from my best buddy, Phyllis.

Now I take shoveling a little at a time. If I don’t get all of the snow shoveled, it will eventually melt anyway, right?

-S&G-

PROFESSOR SQUIGGLEE ... (I know, he hasn’t been around much lately ... hope you remember him) ... would like a show of hands on two matters: 1. When do you normally take your weekly peek at S&G? (Actually, I guess an e-mailed response would be better than a show of hands on that one) ... and 2. Would you be in favor of an occasional "update" of S&G, say mid-week or so? (Maybe an e-mailed response on that would be better than a show of hands, too, if you don’t mind).

-S&G-

MODERATION? I’m afraid I’m a little late with that piece of advice, as far as LOREE (Kansas) is concerned.

When I last heard from her, she was expecting company from Iowa (one of her fans just had to meet the person writing the poems on Loree’s web site).

So-o-o-o-o ... That called for sprucing up the farm a bit. Loree explains:

"I held off on the mowing until the last minute, so yesterday did the whole pasture, PLUS pressure washed the main deck off the kitchen. On brief breaks I did the laundry, and a few fun things like that.

"This morning at 7:30 I was applying the water seal to the deck. The sprayer didn’t want to work at all, so I got an old sponge and applied the water seal by hand. The deck seemed to be MUCH larger than it was when we built it!

"But, in addition to having a deck now that looks almost like new wood, I found out there is nothing wrong with the pores in my body ... every one of them is open and working! Not a dry hair on my head, and my clothes were sopping wet. How can a little old lady sweat like a 230 pound construction worker?"

-S&G-

YOU KNOW you’re a Floridian, if ... You know the four seasons really are: hurricane season, love bug season, tourist season and summer. - Courtesy of HELEN (Florida)

-S&G-

TODAY’S POEM ... It’s another poem about writing, this one triggered by a supply of brittle paper given to me by one of my sons. You know me ... I can’t just throw something away ... I have to find a use for it ... use it up ... get that last ounce of value from it. This paper ... well, if you tried to fold it, it broke ... that’s right, broke! ... it was that brittle. And if you forgot and put a piece of it in a shirt pocket, what you retrieved amounted to about a hundred ... maybe two hundred tiny pieces. Was it ever BRITTLE!

That was the beginning inspiration for this little poem ... and here’s the final result, as originally published in Capper’s:


BRITTLE POEMS
My poems
are written
on brittle
paper, little
thoughts
that blink
like fireflies
scouring
summer nights
looking
for someone
with a jar,
a quick hand,
someone who
will catch
them, enjoy
them, let them
fly again.

-S&G-

COMMENT? Feel free ... below, if you like.

Or if you prefer e-mail, that's fine, too ... especially for more detailed observations, to




and it helps if you put "Squiggles" or "S&G" ... something like that ... in the subject line (just remember, no religion or politics ... please!)

-S&G-

UNTIL NEXT TIME ... take care ... see ya!

-S&G-

OOPS! Earlier this week ... or was it last week? Let's just say ... um ... recently, Professor Squigglee indicated that he'd like to know if readers would like an "update" on S&G ... say, somewhere around mid-week.

Well, the response came pouring in. The final tally showed one vote for ... none against. I guess you could call the unanimous, right?

At the time I thought it might be nice to add a few words to S&G, say, around Wednesday ... and then I forgot.

So here we are ... a day late ... and I forget what the rest of the saying is, but I'm sure you can fill in the blank.

Professor Squigglee? He says, "I always remember EVERYTHING ... but my timing is sometimes off a bit."

And that's the way it is on this ... well, whatever day this is. Maybe we should try this again sometime. What do you think?

© 2009

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Running the Hurdles




Here it is (puff-puff) ... Friday, as this is written ... and I’m (puff-PUFF) sprinting again.

Sprinting?

That’s right, sprinting. Sorta. Most of you know how it goes with me. When I say I’m sprinting ... don’t worry ...

I’m not hot-footing it down the track. I’m not (puff-puff) speeding. Truth be known, I’m hardly moving.

What I’m doing, basically, is racing the clock. The clock always wins, of course, but I never give up. After I’ve (puff-puff) rested a bit, I always challenge it to another race.

These "races" ... and I’m not sure that designation would stand up under careful scrutiny ... do consist of short segments of activity (I was going to say "furious activity" ... but I never quite reach that pitch).

Actually, the segments are 15 minutes each. That’s about the amount of time I can spend hunched over the keyboard before I get a message from my back ... or my calves think they’re in a rodeo and start jumping and lurching ... or, well ... I think you get the picture.

Short intervals of sustained activity. That’s the secret ... and when the timer goes off ... hard-boiled egg that I am ... I take a break and cool down a bit.

-S&G-

SPEAKING OF cooling down ... I don’t know what it’s like where you are, but it’s summer here ... has been for several weeks now ... but we’ve been lucky (and spoiled) in that we’ve had unseasonably cool temperatures.

Until today. Today, Ol’ Man Summer (is there such a guy?) has turned serious.

I have a window fan going ... and I can almost feel the cooling effect of the air it’s shoveling in my direction ... almost. I guess I’ll have to imagine cooler temperatures ... no bubbling streets, no eggs frying on the sidewalk.

Water. I need water ... and some ice, please. Lots of ice. Some for my forehead, too, if you don’t mind.

-S&G-

MEANWHILE, if I’ve hit the right keys (not easy, while knocking on wood and trying to stay cool at the same time, you know) there’s another structured, rhyming poem (oh, how I envy that gift) by LOREE (Kansas) ... entitled "How Big Is Forever?" ... and you should find it just a click away, here:


-S&G-

YOU KNOW you’re a Floridian, if ... You never use an umbrella because you know the rain will be over in five minutes. - Courtesy of HELEN (you guessed it, Florida)

-S&G-

BOOK NOOK - I’m still working on that collection of Shakespeare’s sonnets ... and, oh, what an uphill climb it has become for me. In my spare time I’ve also taken up The Boat of What I Know, by Marian Schwilk-Thomas.


And what’s on your reading table?

-S&G-

SOMEONE turned up the thermostat in Kansas, writes LOREE, then there was a break, of sorts:

"Last night it was great sleeping weather, except for the thunder and lightning from storms just north and east of here, yet close enough that we got the fireworks!

"Wichita even had some baseball size hail ... I’ll bet the insurance companies had to put on more help to deal with the claims from up there. And no doubt my own premium will be called into duty to help pay for that also ... like being in the reserves of the military, and yanked into active duty!"

-S&G-

TODAY’S POEM ... Last week I was trying not to repeat myself ... and I’m not sure I succeeded in that. This week I’m trying not to be too wordy ... not an easy task for me, either (I was once told by a literary magazine editor that he liked a certain haiku I had submitted ... you know, those three-line poems with a limited syllable count on each line ... but he thought it was too wordy. He suggested that I cut out one word. I did. He accepted it ... and it was published).

But I digress.

I was trying to be brief, right? Here goes (this one originally published in Capper’s):

RUNNING THE HURDLES

Have you
ever noticed
how many more
things go wrong
when you're trying
to get away
early, or make up
for lost time?

-S&G-

COMMENT? Feel free ... below, if you like.
Or if you prefer e-mail, that's fine, too ... especially for more detailed observations, to




and it helps if you put "Squiggles" or "S&G" ... something like that ... in the subject line (just remember, no religion or politics ... please!)

-S&G-

UNTIL NEXT TIME ... take care ... see ya!

-S&G-
© 2009

Saturday, July 4, 2009

Ceiling Monster




SO THIS is the FOURTH, eh? ... a time of watermelons chilling in the tub, fish frying on an open fire, kids running amok, eager for darkness to come so they can catch fireflies and watch the fireworks.

Oh, no ... that’s the FOURTH OF JULY that I remember from my own childhood. I imagine fireworks were legal then, for everybody seemed to have some ... sparklers at the very least ... maybe some Roman candles ... and a couple of BIG BOOMERS.

But that has changed over the years.

Now, please understand ... all I know about fireworks is what I hear ... and what I hear is that if you want to buy fireworks in Ohio ... you CAN ... but you have to sign a paper which says you WON’T set them off in our neck of the woods.

In other words, it’s legal to buy ‘em here ... but not to use them here.

As I say, all I know about fireworks these days is what I hear ... and what I hear must be a new development in the traditional explosives for celebrating THE FOURTH ... a BOOM which carries all the way from that neighboring state ... where, I assume, it’s legal to set ‘em off ... and it sounds almost like it’s an explosion taking place just a few doors down the street ... and sometimes like it’s in the alley right behind our garage.

There goes one now ... and another ... and another ... and now a whole bunch like a giant pan of popcorn.

I can’t help wondering what distant state they’re being set off in ... and how they manage to sound like they’re so near.
 
-S&G-

MEANWHILE, if you’d like a bit of peace and quiet ... actually, a peaceful interlude with some music playing in the background ... while you enjoy a bit of well-structured, rhyming poetry, written by LOREE (Kansas) ... try this:


-S&G-

LOOKING BACK ... (this time all the way back to 2003) ... somebody wanted to know where in the world Brimm Manor is located.

Well, let’s see now ... Brimm Manor is located on the banks of Carlisle Avenue ... and that’s true (would I kid about something like that?). When the houses in this neighborhood were being built, I guess it was the fashion to situate the house, then a small front yard (consisting of dirt dug out to make the basement), then an embankment, then the sidewalk, and then the street, this last part fairly narrow, and built out of bricks, of course.

So that’s it. We are located on the banks of Carlisle Avenue ... oh, okay, in Dayton, Ohio.

Way back in ‘03, I acknowledged that "Brimm Manor" likely conjures images of a large estate with gardens, hedges, acres of flowers and a long, curving, tree-lined driveway leading up to an imposing structure.

Actually, I admitted, our abode is a rather old, unimposing structure, on a small city lot. It does have a hedge, but little or none of that other stuff. But it’s home, and we like it here.

-S&G-

THIS WEEK ... the magical, mystical, mythical TROPHY FOR PERSISTENCE ... undoubtedly must be awarded to LOREE (Kansas) ... for it was on an evening that promised to be a fairly quiet one ... but which broke that promise with thunderstorms just a couple of miles to the south:

"As a result, I had just started downloading your current installment ... BINGO! Off went the electric!

"Fortunately, it came back on almost immediately, but that effectively kills a phone dial-up connection. Back to Square One, and the whole process of re-establishing the connection.

"Would you believe that happened a total of four times before I managed to get your site completely downloaded?

"Finally got in ... and it has stayed on long enough for me to read the poem. Your grandmother was one smart lady, making a game of the hot weather walking trips, wasn’t she?"

Oh, Loree ... with that statement about my grandmother, you’ve definitely qualified for the trophy!

-S&G-

TODAY’S POEM ... As many of you know, I try not to repeat myself ... but sometimes I repeat myself ... even though I try not to repeat myself ... and now Professor Squigglee is giving me that LOOK, so I’m trying not to repeat myself ....

But you may have heard this poem before. It always comes to mind about this time of year ... when I’m dozing off ... or struggling to find my way out of the fog of an afternoon nap.

So here it is again (originally published in Capper’s):

CEILING MONSTER

Five blades embrace
heavy summer air
while four globes stare
at a pair of strings,
slender, descending
like spiders seeking
new worlds to claim,
and my eyelids flutter,
fighting against sleep,
for I have sat down
intending only to read
a few paragraphs,
but find I'm slipping
now, glasses off, my book
slowly rising, falling
as it rests on my chest,
both of us helpless
against that monster
whirring, soothing,
cooling, hypnotizing
us in the afternoon.

-S&G-

COMMENT? Feel free ... below, if you like.

Or if you prefer e-mail, that's fine, too ... especially for more detailed observations, to rbrimm@peoplepc.com...


and it helps if you put "Squiggles" or "S&G" ... something like that ... in the subject line (just remember, no religion or politics ... please!)

-S&G-

UNTIL NEXT TIME ... take care ... see ya!

-S&G-
© 2009