Please welcome my first grandson, Wesley James, who arrived on Monday, January 28, 2013.
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Kid Blast ...
Please welcome my first grandson, Wesley James, who arrived on Monday, January 28, 2013.
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Some
Forecast ... Endless RainSome
Some people push life to its limits. Some don't push at all.
Some people want everything and more. Some settle for what they get.
Some people fill their lives with experience. Some just dance along the edge of other people's lives, like spectators peeking through dusty curtains.
Some people share an unrelenting passion. Some have no passion to give.
Some people fill the room with colour. Some turn everything into black and white.
Some people find the key to the riddle of sharing life and loving another. Some lock themselves away and remain alone.
Some people see the glass as half-full, and others see the glass as half-empty. Some don't even know there is a glass.
Some live, some die. Some can't tell the difference.
Some people push life to its limits. Some don't push at all.
Some people want everything and more. Some settle for what they get.
Some people fill their lives with experience. Some just dance along the edge of other people's lives, like spectators peeking through dusty curtains.
Some people share an unrelenting passion. Some have no passion to give.
Some people fill the room with colour. Some turn everything into black and white.
Some people find the key to the riddle of sharing life and loving another. Some lock themselves away and remain alone.
Some people see the glass as half-full, and others see the glass as half-empty. Some don't even know there is a glass.
Some live, some die. Some can't tell the difference.
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Living In A Small Town
Sun Setting On A Small TownLiving In A Small Town
It's like a quiet little town, this place we call Blogger. Nothing like the hurly-burly of former neighbourhoods, nothing like Yahoo! 360 or Multiply, the former long gone and the latter seemingly teetering on life support in the ICU of social networks.
No, the streets of Blogger seem to have suffered a kind of cyber-foreclosure, and except for the odd porch light that flickers on and off every so often, most of the blogs here are relatively inactive.
I suspect we could blame it all on that megalopolis, better known as Facebook, for luring most of the conscious world to within its city limits. Not sure.
Then again, I'm not sure what "blogging" is anymore. At one time in the history of social networking, folks enjoyed using the written word as a means of connecting with one another. Some wrote volumes; some wrote just a word or two. Some posted photos; some shared a video from YouTube. Most of all, people dropped by to say "Hello." Now, not so much.
Blogging has changed, has been reduced to the immediacy of quick notes, such as what we see on Twitter. People want their interaction to be served up like fast food. The new blogger has "places to be and people to see," and anything more than a "drive-thru" experience is too long a commitment, too much a presumed waste of precious time.
Some days, I have to remind myself why I am here. Today, I can't quite figure that out.
It's like a quiet little town, this place we call Blogger. Nothing like the hurly-burly of former neighbourhoods, nothing like Yahoo! 360 or Multiply, the former long gone and the latter seemingly teetering on life support in the ICU of social networks.
No, the streets of Blogger seem to have suffered a kind of cyber-foreclosure, and except for the odd porch light that flickers on and off every so often, most of the blogs here are relatively inactive.
I suspect we could blame it all on that megalopolis, better known as Facebook, for luring most of the conscious world to within its city limits. Not sure.
Then again, I'm not sure what "blogging" is anymore. At one time in the history of social networking, folks enjoyed using the written word as a means of connecting with one another. Some wrote volumes; some wrote just a word or two. Some posted photos; some shared a video from YouTube. Most of all, people dropped by to say "Hello." Now, not so much.
Blogging has changed, has been reduced to the immediacy of quick notes, such as what we see on Twitter. People want their interaction to be served up like fast food. The new blogger has "places to be and people to see," and anything more than a "drive-thru" experience is too long a commitment, too much a presumed waste of precious time.
Some days, I have to remind myself why I am here. Today, I can't quite figure that out.
Monday, January 21, 2013
sometimes love goes somewhere ...
Don't Look Backsometimes love goes somewhere ...
sometimes
love goes somewhere
sometimes squeezes out the bathroom window
with the steam from a hot morning shower
sometimes curls off into the starlit skies
with the smoke of a summer campfire
and if you chance to see it going
be sure to say "goodbye"
"so long" or maybe just "farewell"
unless of course you're in a mood
then just go ahead and grumble
"oh, what the hell"
sometimes
love goes somewhere
sometimes checks out
while you're in the kitchen
making toast
sometimes bolts out the back door
when you're on the front porch
watching the neighbourhood kids
slipping in and out of the twilight
while playing hide 'n' seek
and crashing into trees
or dancing after fireflies just before night
sometimes
love goes somewhere
sometimes catches a bus
and goes downtown
to watch the latest horror flick
sometimes steals the keys to the car
and swaggers over to the McDonald's
drive-thru for a Big Mac
and super-sized fries
then stops in the Legion parking lot
to eat alone
but i guess that comes as no surprise
sometimes
love goes somewhere
sometimes storms out the front door
after a harsh word or two
sometimes floats off
across the lake
on a rubber raft
while you're catching some rays
asleep on the beach
and it never calls back
for help out there
even as it drifts far out of reach
sometimes
love goes somewhere
sometimes kidnaps the kids
you never had
sometimes goes behind your back
and gets a sad tattoo
of a broken heart
inscribed underneath
with the word "Regret"
an ink stain that leaves you breathless
as you crawl helplessly under the bed sheets
and try not to remember what you'll never forget
sometimes
love goes somewhere
sometimes runs away without a reason
and maybe joins the circus
sometimes buys a plane ticket
on the Internet
and flies off to Belize
books into some cheap resort
and for a week or two
drinks just enough local beer
and smokes just enough dirty dope
to erase the hopes it had for you
sometimes
love goes somewhere
sometimes it sleeps
in the other room
sometimes it even elopes
with your ex
and drives to Vegas
to get married at the Church of Elvis
and if all this makes your dreams seem pretty small
just remember that
sometimes
sometimes love goes nowhere at all
love goes somewhere
sometimes squeezes out the bathroom window
with the steam from a hot morning shower
sometimes curls off into the starlit skies
with the smoke of a summer campfire
and if you chance to see it going
be sure to say "goodbye"
"so long" or maybe just "farewell"
unless of course you're in a mood
then just go ahead and grumble
"oh, what the hell"
sometimes
love goes somewhere
sometimes checks out
while you're in the kitchen
making toast
sometimes bolts out the back door
when you're on the front porch
watching the neighbourhood kids
slipping in and out of the twilight
while playing hide 'n' seek
and crashing into trees
or dancing after fireflies just before night
sometimes
love goes somewhere
sometimes catches a bus
and goes downtown
to watch the latest horror flick
sometimes steals the keys to the car
and swaggers over to the McDonald's
drive-thru for a Big Mac
and super-sized fries
then stops in the Legion parking lot
to eat alone
but i guess that comes as no surprise
sometimes
love goes somewhere
sometimes storms out the front door
after a harsh word or two
sometimes floats off
across the lake
on a rubber raft
while you're catching some rays
asleep on the beach
and it never calls back
for help out there
even as it drifts far out of reach
sometimes
love goes somewhere
sometimes kidnaps the kids
you never had
sometimes goes behind your back
and gets a sad tattoo
of a broken heart
inscribed underneath
with the word "Regret"
an ink stain that leaves you breathless
as you crawl helplessly under the bed sheets
and try not to remember what you'll never forget
sometimes
love goes somewhere
sometimes runs away without a reason
and maybe joins the circus
sometimes buys a plane ticket
on the Internet
and flies off to Belize
books into some cheap resort
and for a week or two
drinks just enough local beer
and smokes just enough dirty dope
to erase the hopes it had for you
sometimes
love goes somewhere
sometimes it sleeps
in the other room
sometimes it even elopes
with your ex
and drives to Vegas
to get married at the Church of Elvis
and if all this makes your dreams seem pretty small
just remember that
sometimes
sometimes love goes nowhere at all
Monday, January 14, 2013
Coming Up For Air
Surfacing Coming Up For Air
After two days and nights, the chills and fevers slowly disappeared. Then the long sleep came, just after the dancing circus bear left for Moscow.
A few more days of a very bad cold, headaches, and an outright surrender to lethargy, until finally the flood waters began to recede.
Today, I can breathe normally again.
It's no fun being sick, but sometimes, I think a good case of the flu is a lesson in humility. You learn pretty quickly that you're not quite as invulnerable to life's little discomforts as you may have thought.
Unfortunately, my zest for writing has abandoned me for the moment, but that will return soon enough.
Thanks to everyone who was concerned about me. Not to worry, I'm still alive and kicking. OK, maybe not kicking quite yet, but I managed a decent temps lié this morning.
After two days and nights, the chills and fevers slowly disappeared. Then the long sleep came, just after the dancing circus bear left for Moscow.
A few more days of a very bad cold, headaches, and an outright surrender to lethargy, until finally the flood waters began to recede.
Today, I can breathe normally again.
It's no fun being sick, but sometimes, I think a good case of the flu is a lesson in humility. You learn pretty quickly that you're not quite as invulnerable to life's little discomforts as you may have thought.
Unfortunately, my zest for writing has abandoned me for the moment, but that will return soon enough.
Thanks to everyone who was concerned about me. Not to worry, I'm still alive and kicking. OK, maybe not kicking quite yet, but I managed a decent temps lié this morning.
Tuesday, January 08, 2013
Naked Lunch ... With Apologies To William S. Burroughs
CheesyNaked Lunch ... With Apologies To William S. Burroughs
I know you're frantic, baby,
I can tell by the look of your eyes,
You say I'm not romantic, baby,
I've no more alibis.
Who the heck stole the cheese?
Yes, you're my sourdough bun, baby,
And I'm your bratwurst on the q,
Add some hot mustard just for fun, baby,
Or maybe you think just sweet relish will do.
I swear someone up and stole the cheese.
You know I hate to quibble, baby,
But some things in life do matter,
For a slice, a cube, or even a nibble, baby,
I'll step up to the plate and be your batter.
Until, at last and once and for all, we finally find the cheese.
I can tell by the look of your eyes,
You say I'm not romantic, baby,
I've no more alibis.
You say you want me, want me, want me, any time or anywhere,
Doesn't matter if it's here and doesn't matter if it's there,
But tell me, honey, tell me please,Doesn't matter if it's here and doesn't matter if it's there,
Who the heck stole the cheese?
Yes, you're my sourdough bun, baby,
And I'm your bratwurst on the q,
Add some hot mustard just for fun, baby,
Or maybe you think just sweet relish will do.
You say you need me, need me, need me, any time or anywhere,
Doesn't matter if it's here and doesn't matter if it's there,
But, honey, when you went down on your knees,Doesn't matter if it's here and doesn't matter if it's there,
I swear someone up and stole the cheese.
You know I hate to quibble, baby,
But some things in life do matter,
For a slice, a cube, or even a nibble, baby,
I'll step up to the plate and be your batter.
You say you'd woo me, do me, cuckoo me, any time or anywhere,
Doesn't matter if it's here and doesn't matter if it's there,
But, honey, your moans and groans I really can't appease,Doesn't matter if it's here and doesn't matter if it's there,
Until, at last and once and for all, we finally find the cheese.
Wednesday, January 02, 2013
without loving you
Waitingwithout loving you
I can live without peace or war
can live without always wanting more
I can fall asleep on a kitchen floor
or deep inside some bedroom door
can sometimes forget everything I knew
but I can't live a day
without loving you
I can live without a heart on fire
can live without satisfying every desire
I can tip toe across love's highest wire
and know how truth creates a liar
can sometimes forget or misconstrue
but I can't live a day
without loving you
I can live without feeling old
can live without icy winter's cold
I can be brave in courage without being bold
like the hero of a story left untold
can sometimes forget my point of view
but I can't live a day
without loving you
I can live without the rags of hope
can live without life's slippery slope
I can sometimes laugh and sometimes mope
sometimes dangle at the end of my rope
can sometimes forget how to make it through
but I can't live a day
without loving you
can live without always wanting more
I can fall asleep on a kitchen floor
or deep inside some bedroom door
can sometimes forget everything I knew
but I can't live a day
without loving you
I can live without a heart on fire
can live without satisfying every desire
I can tip toe across love's highest wire
and know how truth creates a liar
can sometimes forget or misconstrue
but I can't live a day
without loving you
I can live without feeling old
can live without icy winter's cold
I can be brave in courage without being bold
like the hero of a story left untold
can sometimes forget my point of view
but I can't live a day
without loving you
I can live without the rags of hope
can live without life's slippery slope
I can sometimes laugh and sometimes mope
sometimes dangle at the end of my rope
can sometimes forget how to make it through
but I can't live a day
without loving you
Tuesday, January 01, 2013
2013
Out With The Old, In With The New2013
For the new year, 2013, I resolve to ...
I dunno ...
What should I change?
More blogs? Less blogs? No blogs at all?
More stories? Less stories? No stories at all?
More poems? Less poems? No poems at all?
More funny? Less funny? No funny at all?
More drama? Less drama? No drama at all?
More photos? Less photos? No photos at all?
OK, well, I'm getting tired of typing that over and over, so ...
Maybe my one resolution will be to try to be less indecisive.
For the new year, 2013, I resolve to ...
I dunno ...
What should I change?
More blogs? Less blogs? No blogs at all?
More stories? Less stories? No stories at all?
More poems? Less poems? No poems at all?
More funny? Less funny? No funny at all?
More drama? Less drama? No drama at all?
More photos? Less photos? No photos at all?
OK, well, I'm getting tired of typing that over and over, so ...
Maybe my one resolution will be to try to be less indecisive.
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