Doc-ingStation

For Dawn Marie Catherine - to honor your brother.

2010-06-09T09:01:00.001-05:00

A man often asks himself, “Who might I be?” defining himself by a role
Of all the parts he plays in his life, none will define his true soul
Husband or son, brother or coach, worker or father of two
None of the titles, labels and names will speak of his goodness on cue

Answers to a question like that need help and assistance to learn
For boys are raised up to protect and provide and are not often taught to discern
Not without wishes, remorse and some ill, a man lives his life best he can
Sometimes his best may seem very little as castles constructed of sand

But the grains that made his castle remain, they never go far or away
His ideas and passions, values and creeds remain with those who must stay
I didn’t know Douglas so my thoughts may be wrong but sharing these things I will do.
How can he write this? How dare he, you ask? I write what he feels like through you.

Compassionate, caring, with love on his sleeve.
Wry sense of humor, absurd
To those who surround him, he lightens their load
With a smile, a touch and a word

Those gestures of care and of giving
With zeal and his obvious pride
Hide a deep side that’s quite often missed
Except by those with whom he has cried

Good with a story or twist of a phrase
Able to laugh and enjoy
Not being the easiest one to believe
That’s ‘cause he’s your brother, a boy

Wind-in-his-face kind of a guy
Loving the turns and the bends
Straight lines are boring, the reasoning here
Is that you can see both the ends

Especially with those he is close to
Able to kid and cajole
A memory of faux pas’ long ago past
For that is part of his role

Complex is defined by numbers of threads
Woven and tangled by time
Combined with experience, weakness and strength
God’s loom of uniqueness, sublime ©

Grandpa's Love

2010-03-14T19:51:00.000-05:00

The day I first hear about you, I love you

– because you are you.

Before you arrive, I love you

– because you are you.

The day you are born, I love you

– because you are you.

The first time I see you,

The first time I hold you in my arms,

The first time we play together,

Each day I love you

- because you are you.

There are no days when I love you more

Each day I love you because you are you

There are no days when I love you less

Each day I love you because you are you

As a small child, crawling about

As a youngster, chasing and playing

As an adolescent, conversant and growing

As a young adult - and as a grown-up person

I love you because you are you

On your first birthday, I love you

- because you are you

All the days in between until on your last birthday –

- I love you because you are you

Always know, my grandchild,

My love for you is constant

My love for you is continuous

My heart leaps for joy when you are happy

My heart breaks when you are sad

I love you now and forever. ©

Grandpa

2010-03-13T07:55:00.000-06:00

The day I first hear about you, I love you

– because you are you.

Before you arrive, I love you

– because you are you.

The day you are born, I love you

– because you are you.

The first time I see you,

The first time I hold you in my arms,

The first time we play together,

Each day I love you

- because you are you.

There are no days when I love you more

Each day I love you because you are you

There are no days when I love you less

Each day I love you because you are you

As a small child, crawling about

As a youngster, chasing and playing

As an adolescent, conversant and growing

As a young adult - and as a grown-up person

I love you because you are you

On your first birthday, I love you

- because you are you

All the days in between until on your last birthday –

- I love you because you are you

Always know, my grandchild,

My love for you is constant

My love for you is continuous

My heart leaps for joy when you are happy

My heart breaks when you are sad

I love you now and forever.

Grandpa

Just Noting ......

2010-01-18T09:39:00.000-06:00

Spent a large part of the “warm” weekend pulling snow off of the roof. Tons of snow that had a 3” layer of crust over it. Breaking loose, the slabs would slide down, gaining speed as they neared the eave, and glide over the edge, shaking the deck as they hit. I’d brace myself against the ladder and they’d hit me in the shoulder before smashing to the driveway or the patio. What fun!
Father Pat (a Francisan brother) came over for lunch on Sunday and we talked about the state of the church in the US and the necessity of using the laity to lead – lessening the hierarchal aspect of Catholicism, as well as the need to amend and augment the lessons learned in seminary school.
Over time, I’ve become convinced that the Catholic church needs orators in the pulpit and they seem to be few and far between.

Casting Off

2010-01-12T19:59:00.002-06:00

Had lunch with a friend of mine who, with his wife Patty, has spent most summer weekends of his adult life sailing Lake Superior. "Casting Off" was written for them ...

Casting off, they’d loosed the lines

And turned to face the breeze

Twenty seven years they’ve sailed the lake

Companions, mates at ease

And tacked across expanse of blue

At knots at times deemed high

To push themselves beyond the known

At times, the wind a sigh

Explored the shores, the coves and tors

Perched high upon the hills

Of islands set upon the waves

The view from which gives thrills

To look out on the placid seas

And know from where they’ve been

In truth it matters not one whit

Should becalmed remain the wind

The sailing has enthralled them since

They first became as one

To stand upon their deck and peer

At rise or setting sun

And times the storms have roiled

Their craft o’er waves blown rough and high

And made them better sailors

As on life’s seas they ply

Their long experience, intimate

Of themselves and of their mate

See through the deepening troughs of life

And so the seas placate

Someday, becalmed, they’ll come to peace

With one last sail to make

And off into the glorious eve

Together they’ll partake.

Diamond or Prism - continued

2010-01-10T07:00:00.000-06:00

Part two:

I’ve thought of that glass, that small little thing
Quite often the past many years
As I stew in my mind the problems at hand
And bounce things around with my peers

Here is the thought that occurs to me
See if you think it makes sense
Our God given gifts we use as the light
Through a prism or diamond and hence

There are those who when challenged to think
Go quickly to blue or to green
With thoughts like a prism, they break it apart
And decide which color is seen.

The opposite trait is the thinker who sees
Like diamonds which capture the light
It bounces around its faceted walls
And fires out bursts left and right

Both types are good, they come from the source
Of life, from heaven above
There isn’t a good or better or worse
We all receive it in love

This brings me to ponder the question
Of which one am I and are you?
For if we’re to love each completely
The way we see light will construe

The way we see love and affection
The way we see others and self
The way we treat dogs or a hamster
The way we see riches and wealth

The answer to me is the bauble
That which I found long ago
To look out at life as the diamond
Is the way we just happen to glow.

Diamond or Prism

2010-01-08T15:12:00.000-06:00

Part One:

Once as a child, a bauble was found
A treasure of glass at my toes
In hindsight a piece of an old chandelier
But what does a boy know of those?

From where it had come or what it had been
There wasn’t a clue in the dirt
But O what a treasure it turned out to be
As I polished it off on my shirt

The tricks that it played as it came to see light
Were wonderously amazing to see
Not knowing the how, the why or the what
Made it magic to us – and to me.

It still is, this trick of God’s crystal clear world
But the structure of light is well known
Although we now know the why and the what
It’s the how that He keeps quite unshown.

As we held up our treasure to consider its source
We noticed the colors come through
The light we were using to examine our find
Was first red, then yellow, then blue.

To Play The Role

2009-12-25T21:53:00.002-06:00

The daycare was filled with kids young and old

As Santa strode in from the snow and the cold

And all of their eyes beheld him in red

Lit up their faces, no words were yet said

With a “Ho ho ho” Santa was there!

At their little daycare with nary a care

He’d come just to see them to bring them a smile

Took time to stop in and chat for awhile

Their eyes were like saucers, so big and so round

They stood and they looked and gaped at the mound

Of red suit and hat, big beard and black belt

The love welled right up and he thought he might melt

And he became Santa, the jolly old elf

He loved each and every one little self

To see adoration and know it can be

A good thing or bad thing, it was all up to me

My best I put forth, to allow them to see

The beauty of Christmas and all it can be

For it is when we give with no thought of return

That love rushes forth and in one’s heart does burn

The clear and distilled message today

To love each and everyone passing our way

And as I waved goodbye and said my farewells

They called “Merry Christmas” and jingled some bells

As I walked along and went out to my sleigh

Santa stayed with me throughout all the day

e is a real person you know

He is in all of us if we just let him show.

Thank you Santa. Merry Chirstmas. ©

A Christmas Anthology - Part Eight - Merry Christmas to all.

2009-12-23T07:00:00.002-06:00

So closing this extended verse, I wonder how to do

The lessons in the prophecies, the Gospels are for you

And me to learn the truth of Christ, the reason that He came

Was more to know a giving God than just to know His name.

His mother Mary, bless her heart, gave Jesus human life

She nourished Him and brought Him forth and then became a wife.

And mother too, to Him, her Son, a most important job

For mothers love, that’s what they do, it’s why their hearts do throb.

Now Joseph gave his trust to God, that all would turn out right

He listened when he was spoken to and heard from God at night.

He set the tone for family life. He was a grateful man.

For all that he’d been given, he knew it was God’s plan.

For this is what it’s all about, the giving part I mean

If you’ll recall the animals around the manger scene

What could they give? An animal? Why, they provided heat.

It’s what they had, it’s what they could and did provide that’s sweet.

The shepherds came with nothing but their wonder and their awe

Which proved to be quite the gift when they realized what they saw

The Magi gave their earthly gifts with homage and respect

Two very important things to give to those whom we neglect.

Of all these words and all this talk, my point is overdue

The reason for the season is God’s gift to you

The gift He sent, the greatest prize, to you and me and all

That we may know and worship Him for that is our great call.

Merry Christmas.

And Happy Birthday to you, my dear Robin - December 23

A Christmas Anthology - Part Seven

2009-12-21T07:00:00.000-06:00

So off they went, the three of them, in search of Son of Man

And when they found the place He was, their gifts they gave began

The tradition we still do today. The tradition done with love

When we give gifts at Christmas time, we honor God above.

They gave Him frankincense, a spice from far and long away

And myrrh, a similar thing to use to freshen up the day

And gold they gave, in homage to the one they’d come to find

For wise they were and generous too as well as very kind.

The night they left, they had a dream, a kind of sleep alarm

That Herod, the Roman king was planning to do harm

To the newborn king and so they went and took another route

And headed home by a different road on which was no pursuit

Remember now, that Herod knew that Christ was borne a king

He knew the town and had to act to save his royal ring.

And when he found the wise men gone without honoring his rule

He was quite mad, very much upset that he had been so fooled

He gave an evil order to protect himself and Rome.

Kill all the boys under two years old who make Bethlehem their home

But before the act was carried out, before the deed was done

Joseph had another dream to take his wife and son

To leave for Egypt, get out now and stay until you’re free

To come this way again as you return to live in Galilee.

They left there fast, they had no choice, their lives were in the hands

Of God himself. They trusted Him to guide them through the lands

This story of salvation is 2000 plus years plus old.

It is only the beginning of a story so often told

The story of the Son of God, sent here by His own call.

For us to hear His voice, His name, Jesus, Savior of us all.

A Christmas Anthology - Part Six

2009-12-19T07:00:00.000-06:00

From all of this and more, my friend, the Christ child does appear

With shepherds watching in their fields and angels singing clear

“We bring great joy to all today, for in King Davids town

A Savior borne in Bethlehem shall be in a manger found.”

They hurried off and found in peace the child asleep on straw

They knelt in awed amazement from what they’d heard and saw

And when they left they told their friends about the new borne child

And all who heard their holy tale took comfort for awhile.

For life was hard back then and there, it was uncertain what would be

The Romans ruled with iron fists from across the deep blue sea

Any talk of kings from other lands or references to change

Were dealt with quickly and with force and hence came this arrange.

Three wise men came into the land in answer to the call

To pay homage to the King of Kings, born in the manger stall

When they arrived they went to see King Herod. It was he

Who asked who they were looking for and what they knew, you see.

And when he heard they’d come to find the one whose star had shown

King of the Jews, the Christ child borne, he vowed to make it known

That nothing would become of this, he’d finish it today

Telling them to return with news he sent them on their way.

A Christmas Anthology - Part Five

2009-12-17T07:00:00.001-06:00

With child was she as yet unwed, a shameful state to be

But God was with them and her betrothed a dream of faith had he

“Be not afraid to take the woman into your home as wife

For the child within is of the Spirit and through Him you will gain life.”

The holy texts predict this all, they reference these affairs

Not just once but many times down through the many years

How can it be, unless it’s true, these common parts and threads

Of age old books and long told lore from many hearts and heads.

I’ve said before in written form about the trip of birth

From Nazareth to Bethlehem the couple walked the earth

On sandaled feet, they trod the ground from one place to the next

Together walking, hand in hand, in fulfillment of the text

The birth to be in Bethlehem, they did not know the why

Only that the rulers there had made them all comply

To return to where they had been born for census, the decree

Of Caesar simply to be counted where their home was thought to be.

A Christmas Anthology - Part Four

2009-12-15T07:00:00.002-06:00

There were fourteen generations with Abram at the start

To David and a kingly rule with God deep in his heart

And another twenty eight then came with various depths of love

For God’s divine countenance, His blessings from above

The anointed one was going to come and emulate a ram

With warlike and rebellious ways. He wouldn’t be a lamb.

A Messiah made of flesh and bone. Immanuel shall fight

And throw off the Roman yoke of rule. He would have the might.

God came to Zechariah and inspired him to seek

His dear old wife Elizabeth and with her not be meek

She became with child, the foretold John, the man to go before

And make way the path for the one called Christ, to open up the door.

Now, six months passed, an angel came to Mary making plans

To wed the good man Joseph, a worker with his hands

The angel said to her with love, Hail Mary full of grace

God favors you ,His child within, He smiles upon your face.

I am afraid was her reply to which the angel said

Worry not, my dear, dear one and rest your weary head

For you’ve been chosen as the one upon which your faith dwells

To be the mother of the Son Most High, the one Immanuel

A Christmas Anthology - Part Three

2009-12-13T07:00:00.000-06:00

The Christmas star shown near and far, a most surprising sight

For learned ones who knew the paths of nightly things of light

What’s this? They thought – what does it mean? Is this an omen dire?

Or is it just some foolish thing? A ball of skyward fire?

What’s that you say? A king is borne? Someone to rule the Jews?

That could be bad for us and them. What else is there of news?

Their holy texts foretell this thing? Is that what’s being said?

We’d better check, put out the word, this king is better dead.

Judea was, by all accounts, the land God gave, His ration

For they’d been freed, from slavery bound, to become a godly nation

His covenant, His promise made to provide them of their needs

With land to graze, good water, fruit and soil to sow their seeds.

So there they’d lived, for many years, through times of peace and strife

Many generations came and went and God stayed in their life

King David came, the good king ruled ‘til old age took its toll

Jerusalem he built to be God’s city made of gold

The temple there, so grand and rich, rose regal, high and white

And travelers came from far away to worship at its light

As time went on, God’s people there forgot from whence they’d come

The strife and hardship they’d endured became a silent hum.

This happens too, these days for us, it’s easy to be vain.

We think about the stuff we have, no longer are we sane.

The wants, not needs, the toys, the cars – as if it’s all expected.

We gain the world and lose our souls, God starts to be neglected.

Prophecies foretold the Christ, the child born on that day

They also had foretold the piece King David’s throne would play

Descendant of the great, good king the child would have a link

To rule divinely given, an important piece I think.

A Christmas Anthology - Part Two

2009-12-11T07:00:00.000-06:00

In testaments from long ago as we see time to measure

Shepherds tell of God’s own words come to them as treasure

The day will come, you shall not know but it will come, be sure

When God shall walk the earth as man, His wisdom shall be pure

Manger born in Bethlehem, even that part was foreseen

A census sent them to the inn, though borne a Nazarene

The town was full, the count afoot, no place to lay a head.

A stable stall, a mat of straw was Mary’s birthing bed.

As night fell cold and clear and bright, her ordeal was at hand

To culminate the tales long told, a Christ child to the land

Obediently, her husband there, did foster to her needs

The child, though theirs, was not of him, his trust in God exceeds

Our own, for were we called to bow and take his place

Not one of us would likely have his devotion, love – his grace.

The night wore on, the darkness deep, no moon that night was there

The livestock lowed and pawed the ground, instinctively aware

Their warmth they gave, it’s all they had to give the little child

Enough it was, though be it cold, the manger became mild.

Within His mothers arms they watched, a cause for glee and laughter

He squirmed and fed and went to sleep and so did they soon after

And others came, to mark the day as on their knees they fell.

For in the east, a star rose full, a sign Immanuel.

A Christmas Anthology - Part One

2009-12-09T20:33:00.001-06:00

There are eight parts to this anthology. It was written in December 2005 in five days. Each time I sat down to write, the words flew from my fingers. This is not of me. I was simply the conduit.

Around the first of Christmas, an angel came to say

A child will come to Bethlehem, a virgin birth this day

Be not afraid, O chosen one, through you our Lord is born

In fulfillment of the ancient words, His star will light the morn

In all the ancient Hebrew texts, a theme runs loud and clear

A Son will come to right the faith, a Son whom we will hear

God’s promise made whole in His own time. For who’s time is it at all?

Do we suppose to make it ours? Do we think God’s that small?

The maker of the earth and stars. Of atoms, quarks and space

The trees, the seas and mountaintops, each special in their place

Do you say, “No, it cannot be.”? It must be myth and fable.

A God that made both you and me would never take the label

Of human being, with faults galore. So glaringly apparent.

A servant born a bastard child? A virgin as a parent?

Wait and see, my doubtful friend, it’s a story told in tales

Of prophecy from early on – from birth to three large nails

And leading up to Christmas morn, this story will continue

It bears retelling every year. God in flesh and bone and sinew.

Thanksgiving Anomaly?

2009-11-30T09:48:00.002-06:00

Each year prior to Thanksgiving and Christmas, there are letters in the advice columns as well as comments from co-workers and friends about the dysfunction within their families and how they look forward to those holidays with dread. The memories of holiday celebrations past haunt them and they anticipate more bad memories to come.
What have I missed? I have good memories of holidays. Good memories of grandma and grandpa, uncles and aunts – not specifics so much as attitudes – the over all sense of family and goodness together. Yes, there were a couple of specifics – Dad drinking too much – but that was not evident to me very often – maybe I just missed it – or was blind to it – but it never soured the day – or the memory.
On Thanksgiving, I am grateful and very thankful for the many years of wonderful celebrations together as family. My sisters and I were loved by all the old folks – and we knew it. It showed. I am grateful and very thankful for carrying those memories forward and allowing them to color my outlook on the present – and the future.
Yes, my blessings are manifest
Robin and I had a very nice Thanksgiving celebration on the day itself with two people we had never met before and may not meet again but for those few hours, they were a part of our lives – and we were a part of theirs – and it was good.
On Saturday, three of our combined five children came over and we celebrated again. How wonderful to see them as adults. They are good people and we would be honored to consider them friends were they not family. Yes, our blessings are plentiful.

Did I miss a memo?

2009-11-20T06:55:00.000-06:00

Yesterday, I stopped at McDonalds for a quick dinner after yoga class. The young man who waited on me was pleasant. I paid him and he handed me my change. I said, “Thank you” and he said, “Uh huh.” He handed me my burger and again, I said, “Thank you.” And again he said, “Uh huh.”
Were this an isolated incident, I wouldn’t have thought much of it other than he needed to be trained in how to close a transaction from a customer relations perspective. I think thanking customers is appropriate – don’t you?
Unfortunately, this is not an isolated incident. In fact, from my daily observations and experiences, it is the “new” normal. “Thank you” has left the vernacular in retail.
Why is that? Is it lack of proper training by management? Is it an insecurity that somehow keeps them from expressing gratitude? Is it self-absorbtion – they are unable to consider others as they would themselves?
I asked a young woman at the “quickie mart” the other day – she had simply said, “Yup” when I thanked her for my purchase – how, if she were the one making the purchase, she would want the clerk to respond. She said she’d like to hear “thank you.”
So, at least using her as an example, it is not for lack of knowledge of the importance of those two simple words.
I’ve been told I’m too picky – it is not a big deal. I say: BS!
I’ve been told the clerks are underpaid and overworked and shouldn’t have to fret about how they close a sale. I say: BS!
Come on! A simple thank you makes the world a little friendlier. A simple thank you makes both people feel good. A simple thank you is the right thing to do. Accept nothing less. Perhaps if a few of us stand at the counter and ask for it, the message will get across. Perhaps not but keep trying. Thank you.

Nothing says "Happy Holidays" like a pilfered tree.

2009-11-18T11:26:00.001-06:00

As we embrace the diversity of our nation, let us take a moment to consider the inclusiveness of everyone which is reflected in a stolen Holiday tree.
The meaninglessness of the “holiday season” must not exclude those who would take what is not theirs. Steal from a Salvation Army kettle? Fine by me. Take your neighbors lights and string them up in your basement? Good idea – a festive basement is always a delight. Shoplift a doll or a Ipod for the kids? Why not? It’s the Holidays.

Quoting a line in the movie, “As Good As It Gets,” as the character played by Jack Nicholson says to the character played by Helen Hunt, “You make me want to be a better man.” Christmas does that for us – women, men, children. Christmas makes us want to be better. Not because Santa is watching but because the image of a child being sent to Earth to serve as Savior is compelling. The image of a cold night in the desert, of animals at peace, of others there too – in recognition of an event occurring. Those images provide the impetus to be a better man, woman or child.

Without the Prince of Peace to impel this sense, the holidays are empty. Back to Druidism. The Solstice is here – all hail the Solstice. I’m off – to steal a Holiday tree. ©

Purity

2009-11-16T11:37:00.000-06:00

Yesterday at church, as I was walking out, the fellow who raises money for homelessness was heading out to his tent. I thanked him for his efforts. He said, “It’s something I can do.” And I thought about how profound that simple statement was. There is something we all can do. What a world it would be if we all did it. Whatever it may be.

My mind is getting broader
I’m thinking quite apart
From how I used to think of things
I thought I was so smart

To see someone who is down and out
I used to think this way
Pick yourself up and buckle down
And it will be ok.

Somehow I’d feel better
Like I’d done something right
When in fact I had ignored them
Blindered to their plight

Is my conscience stretching?
To embrace a truth unseen?
To help ease suffering in a life?
Have I become less mean?

Whether events or age or other stuff
Has given me this start
I’m grateful for an open mind
And openness of heart. ©

2009-11-13T09:41:00.000-06:00

I am praying for my niece. She is having a difficult time of late. Her mental health has been tough on her and her family for the last few years. I pray that she will be treated with the right combination of meds. I pray for her to have strength to slog through the depressions. I pray for her to see light beyond this moment, this hour, this day. I pray for her to be healthy and happy. Should you read this, please do likewise. Thank you.

Wrong Number

2009-11-09T13:43:00.003-06:00

I am suprised at how little, inconsequential events can take us to places long dormant in our minds. This "wrong number" was one of them. Thank you, small child, whoever you are.

I got a little gift today; don’t know from where it came
My cell phone rang and on the line a small voice, anxious to proclaim
“Dad?” he asked a bit surprised
To hear my sound, unrecognized

A small boy, I think, from just that word though I don’t know for sure
A little girl it could have been but “Dad” is what I heard.
The precious thing from one so small; to hear that name once more
In such an eager, love filled way; to cause my heart to soar

The instant swept the years aside. Just where am I? And when?
Am I yet there? A child this age? The years a dream have been?
The memories flashed all through my mind of Steve and Jill and Dan
Of playing catch and playing games and summers in the sand

They flooded back, as fast as light, these visions of my love
Their gap-toothed grins and small warm hands
True gifts lent from above

Then I returned to here and now to answer his small plea
To gently say the dad he’d called was someone else, not me

And then he knew, I wasn’t his but just some other dad
Before he went, he just said, “Bye” - and left me feeling glad
And grateful to that little one, mistaken though he’d been
For he gave to me the greatest gift of memories so long not seen. ©

2009-11-07T08:33:00.000-06:00

Today is my daughter’s birthday
She turns 32 and has two little boys of her own
The circle of life.
When I talk to my mom about aging
She tells me she still thinks of herself
As if she were in her mid-30s

I still think of myself in roughly
That same age bracket – and I’m 58
The circle of life
And I think of all that have left
Been here and gone
Remembered and missed

For the people they were (are?)
For the love they gave and got
The circle of life
I look at those older than me
In a different light than in years past
Knowing we’ll all be gone someday

I look at those younger than me
Realizing they too have the same fate
It helps me to love; the circle of life
And so it goes. ©

2009-11-03T11:59:00.000-06:00

The natural world awes me. It supports my faith in the supernatural world. The way of things – liquids, solids, gases. Molecules, atoms and the smaller particles. The electrical charges each carry. The complex interactions and combinations that make stuff – from dirt to oils to plants and animals. The chemical balances that exist that permit such combinations. Awe is hardly an adequate word. Understanding the science that supports the mechanics of it does not diminish the wonder. It enhances it.

This morning I witnessed a hawk capturing a songbird for breakfast. A bit further on, two bright red-headed woodpeckers warily eyeing each other in a stand-off in a parking lot.

From the ultra-micro to the super-macro – awe and wonder. Affirmations of the supernatural. The spirit of it. The spirit of us. The spirit of all.

Monday, 2-November - Year After Year After ....

2009-11-02T08:32:00.005-06:00

Moon setting at the same angle as mid-summer sun. Glimmering light across a still lake. To the East, sun just lightening the sky.

Full moon sets at dawn’s first light
Streaks yellow on the lake
Morning sun though not yet born
Glows orange in nighttime’s wake

And as the night with white light fades
The quiet is so deep
I listen and can almost feel
The heaviness of sleep

No birds are trilling, they still perch
With heads beneath a wing
Unwilling yet to test the air
Unwilling yet to sing

November morns portend what’s next
What debt will soon be due
And seasons come and seasons go
With life that’s old and new. ©

To Laugh At Ourselves

2009-10-30T07:50:00.002-05:00

The "drama" that seems to pervade many of our lives can be handled in one of two ways. It can be internalized as a "woe" or it can be externalized as a "whee." IMHO 'tis better to "whee." Yes, my sky is very blue. Beautifully blue.

A milepost of emotional maturity
Denoting my inner security
Comes not from a sense of self worth
It comes from my finding the mirth

The things that I do or perhaps I may say
Are not always right or said the right way
To know that it matters not one little bit
To laugh at myself is always a hit

It relieves any sense of playing the fool
In fact, to the contrary, it is quite the tool
By disarming those who take life too serious
Who set themselves up as being imperious

The reason for this is easy to see
Because of the fun I can have being me ©

2009-10-30T07:00:00.000-05:00

2009-10-26T07:16:00.002-05:00

This was written in May of 2006. Newly alone and lonely, longing for intimacy. Reading it now in present circumstances, thet truth of it rings clearly to me.

A man’s fate is his own
But he longs it be shared
With someone he loves
And someone who cares

The days bringing nuance
The years passing bide
Real love is simply
To lie side by side

To feel the warmth
Of one you adore
To feel the heart beat
Nothing is more

Peaceful and loving
Than the gift we extend
To lie in the arms
Of a lover, a friend ©

Old Man Wisdom - Each Day An Adventure

2009-10-22T08:11:00.002-05:00

For my beloved son, Daniel, a United States Marine, just returned from overseas.

I’ve been trying to think of a way to conclude this series. Not meaning to imply that I’ve written all my “Old Man Wisdom” – just a closing part for this bunch of stuff.
Met with my “men’s group” this morning and one of the fellows was lamenting getting back from vacation – and being back into the routine of daily life versus the sense of “adventure” that each day of vacation brought.

His lament sparked this within me: What attributes are necessary in order to make each day – regardless of whether they are “ordinary” or “extraordinary” – an adventure? Here is what came to me – in no particular order except for #1:

An open mind.
The willingness to explore.
The willingness to love – and to show it.
The willingness to listen – and hear.
The willingness to look below, above and beyond what is obvious.
The willingness to be at ease in all situations.
The willingness to laugh at ourselves.
The willingness to be tender – to be soft – to have heart.
The willingness to be open – and vulnerable.
The willingness to accept ourselves as imperfect.
The willingness to admire that which we find admirable in others
The willingness to emulate that which we find admirable.

As you’ve read these, many will seem to be redundant. It seems to me to be true that to be one, we must be all – to be all, we must be one but each statement brings its own “feeling” to my heart and mind. Therefore, they are listed separately.

So, my dear young son, there you have it. It has taken me almost two months since your birthday to finish your the gift. The writing of “Old Man Wisdom” has been a gift to me as well as to you. Thank you, Dan.
Love, Dad

Casino Buffet Rap - Cop an Attitude !

2009-10-20T14:00:00.002-05:00

Road trip to Cleveland with Robin - passed a casino along the way - sign out in front - it said:

"All You Can Eat – All theTime"
Entrée’s, sides and pie key lime
The casino buffet, I’m sure to win!
Park the car and waddle on in

Pay my money, pick up my tray
Ooh, the trough smells good today
Look to the left, look to the right
Food, food, food – I’m eating tonight!

Baby back ribs, looking mighty prime
All I can eat – all of the time
Mashed potatoes with butter and cream
Oo la la – a fat man’s dream

Broasted chicken with skin so brown
Grab two legs – gonna chow ‘em on down
Meat loaf’s coming and I can’t resist
Pick me a slab ‘bout the size of my fist

Baked beans, bacon and cheesy fries
They’ll go straight to my hairy fat thighs
Yellow jello with orange cookie crunch
Two big scoops won’t spoil this lunch

Mac and cheese, some corn on the side
Stick a brat on top for the ride

That’s all I can pile, no more will fit
‘Til my second trip, this is it
Amble on over and find me a seat
Set down the platter, all ready to eat

Wait! I need a cup in my hand
One more trip to the soda stand
Let’s see here, what’ll it be?
Yeah, pour that Diet Coke for me!

All I can eat – all the time
Waxing rhapsodic in syncopated rhyme
The words so sweet, gotta loosen my colla’
And stuff my face with my food dolla’ ©

The "Buddy Holly Story" - Minnesota History Theatre

2009-10-19T07:59:00.002-05:00

Great cast, great music, great tempo, great show. The audience was into it. The cast fed off the energy and everyone had a wonderful time. This is a “MUST SEE”! The Minnesota History Theatre (www.historytheatre.com) has added two additional shows. Get tickets if you can. They will sell out fast. Don’t miss it!

Followed by Byerly's Tomato Basil Soup! As my grandma used to say, "Ooof da, good."

Road Trip

2009-10-17T17:10:00.002-05:00

Robin and i took a road trip to Cleveland. We left on Monday night and returned on Thursday night. All told, almost 2000 miles with the running around to various places off of the interstates. Aside from the business at hand, we visited the Euclid Bluestone Quarry Park, the old Euclid Crane Co. building and Ed Nye, the town of Vermillion on Lake Erie, the small town of Wakemon. Ohio and the Morman family, Port Clinton, the Studebaker Mansion in South Bend, Indiana. Blains Fleet and Farm Store in Ottawa, Illinois and Castle Rock at Volk Field in Wisconsin. We searched for and found three geocaches enroute - great fun. We enjoyed one anothers company - Robin is a trooper. What a woman!

Old Man Wisdom - Living with Integrity

2009-10-12T12:51:00.001-05:00

For my beloved son, Daniel, a United States Marine, currently in Iraq.

I define “integrity” as living by the standards to which I adhere.
For instance – if I consider myself to be honest and trustworthy, having integrity means that I behave honestly and with trustworthiness – with others – and with myself.

To have integrity we must ask ourselves:
What are my moral standards?
What are my spiritual standards?
What are my emotional standards?
What are my intellectual standards?

Integrity is living one’s life in line with those standards. Simple, yes? Partially so because some of the responses are easier than others but complex in the sense that to live as people of integrity, those standards must be defined in detail. It is difficult. It requires time, it requires deep reflection, thought and feeling. It requires self-awareness – and integrity does not come all at once – nor do the standards upon which it is built.

Having said that, living a life of integrity is a process because as our lives change, our experiences broaden, our standards can and do – must - change and evolve. As I have grown, my “Old Man Wisdom” has grown in complexity because of the broadening of life experiences but there is a paradox in that complexity. Living with integrity becomes simpler – because of that broadening. There are fewer instances where I have to ask myself whether there is conflict with my standards because – at my age – issues are simply variations of past experiences. That is a good thing.
Love, Dad

Old Man Wisdom - The Attributes of Character - On Being Judgmental

2009-10-08T06:50:00.002-05:00

For my beloved son, Daniel, a United States Marine, currently in Iraq.

Being judgmental of others is a hindrance to personal growth. That statement is selfish but less so than believing we have a “right’ to judge others. Over the course of my many years, I have had many “epiphanies” – realizations that previous conceptions were inaccurate if not downright wrong.

Having said that, my “need” to judge others based on my conceived set of criteria is also wrong. Purposely moving in an opposite direction from one’s comfort zone is hugely enriching. Purposely opening your heart and head up to the differences in us all provides opportunities to learn, to understand, to appreciate – and to embrace the diversity that God has created in us.

When we judge others with what we perceive is our own “rightness” we miss the chance to broaden ourselves – to broaden our definition of “rightness.” Keeping an open mind when we meet others – whether they be part of our extended peer group, a stranger on the street or someone in line at the grocery store who simply “looks” different – may provide us the opportunity to hear their story – and they to hear ours. That type of communications / sharing enriches both parties and never, ever leaves those who have shared the same. There is always growth that occurs.

Don’t like someone? What are you basing that on? Try again. Listen with your heart as well as your head. Seek first to understand.
Love, Dad

Minnesota Twins Baseball

2009-10-06T22:44:00.000-05:00

Tonight, after four months of “win a game / lose a game” but having had a good August and a marvelous September, the Minnesota Twins – in the 163rd game of the season – won the America League Central Division by beating the Detroit Tigers in 12 innings 6 to 5.

The lead see-sawed throughout all 12 innings – the Tigers going up early, Twins tying and going ahead, Tigers tying and going ahead, Twins tying – until, at last, the 52,000 people attending the game and the millions more in Minnesota and the world, witnessed the conclusion with a run scoring single in the bottom of the 12th inning.

Baseball is sublime. The beauty of the field with green grass, the symmetry of the base lines, foul lines, batters boxes, et al. The rainbow of colors, skin and clothing, in the stands cheering on their teams. All ages – infants to elderly. Families, couples, singles, friends – all there for the love of the game.

The speed with which the game is played – agonizingly slow at times, faster than the eye can see at others and much in the middle – can alternately lull or thrill. No other sport quite like it. I love it. How ‘bout them Twins !

Old Man Wisdom - The Attributes of Character

2009-10-06T07:33:00.003-05:00

For my beloved son, Daniel, a United States Marine, currently in Iraq.

Confronting Abuse:
There are many people in the world who use meanness, abuse and intimidation as their way of dealing with others. Quite often, the ones the abusers abuse the most are those they would say they “love.”
As my son, you know most of my story. You know my father did not know his father and had no good male role model upon which to build his parental skill set. He exhibited abusiveness – especially when he drank – toward his wife and children.
You’ve seen me sober during your entire time on the planet – I quit drinking four years before you were born – but had you known me before that, you would have likely said that those same patterns which I successfully broke, were in evidence.
So why do I bring this up now? Because it is an issue with many, many people. Drinking may contribute to it – or any substance abuse for that matter – but the patterns of abuse stem not from the substance but from the individual. A person can be stone cold sober and be abusive to others.
I bring this up now because when we are faced with evidence of this type of behavior we have two choices. We can choose to ignore it as “none of our business” or we can choose to attempt to instigate change. There are risks involved with either choice but I contend that to ignore it is the weaker of the two choices. Allowing abuse is tantamount to condoning abuse – and I cannot / will not condone it. I expect the same from you.
Most people are intelligent enough to realize that if they are challenged from outside of their “family unit” their secret is no longer a secret – their behavior / abusiveness has been made public and perhaps they should – at the very least – minimize it, and at the very best – stop it and seek help.
People can change – but only if they choose to change. It cannot be brought about without their consent and often their consent is not forthcoming when confronted with the abuse by the abused. It is only when confronted by “outsiders” that they may consider change as an alternative.
This is another one of those “choices” in life to be made prior to the situation presenting itself. Another decision on “how you will choose to live your life.”
Love, Dad

Old Man Wisdom - The Attributes of Character - Emotional Intelligence

2009-10-05T06:22:00.002-05:00

For my beloved son, Daniel, a United States Marine, currently in Iraq.

We are possessed of different intelligences. An IQ test provides us insight into our mathematical, analytical, associative and cognitive abilities. We have physical intelligences in our abilities to run, jump, play sports, coordinate hand and eye, etc.

An area of intelligence which is seldom measured and seldom discussed is emotional intelligence. Our ability to discern what we are feeling at any given time and whether those feelings accurately reflect the significance of a situation along with our ability to have empathy for others constitutes our emotional intelligence.

The “OMW” for today, my dear son, regards anger and my contention / belief that it is a secondary – or reactionary – emotion. When you or someone says “I got angry” it is important to think (or ask) “What did I feel before the anger?” If you stop to think about the last time(s) you got angry at someone or something, you will realize that a more primal emotion occurred first. Perhaps it was frustration or guilt, fear, shame or hurt or embarrassment or something else.

Whichever it was, it is important to realize that the anger that followed – and that may have been acted on – was a reaction to the first emotion. Would you have handled the situation differently had you realized that you were hurt? Or shamed? Would the recipient of your anger been treated – talked to – differently? How would the result have changed?

Now turn that around. Remember the last time someone got angry with you? What feeling were they having that morphed into anger? Did you do or say something to bring hurt or shame or guilt or frustration into their hearts / heads? Further, I would bet that you thought they had reacted wrongly with their anger.

Anger quickly clouds how we perceive our feelings. Anger quickly clouds our ability to understand another person – or situation. It is only with practice that you – and I – can take a step back from the brink of anger and think about what we truly are feeling and address the person or situation from a more accurate viewpoint.

Anger is not an “attribute of character.” The “attribute” is the ability to identify (and feel) the emotion that is leading to anger. Anger is a liability and a false response whereas the ability to discern “root” emotion is an asset and leads to a response from which growth can occur.
Love, Dad

OMW - The Attributes of Character – Sidebar 2 – Pre-Decisions for Times of Crisis

2009-10-04T07:00:00.002-05:00

For my beloved son, Daniel, a United States Marine, currently in Iraq.

How often have you seen or heard a report of someone in distress – whether it be from an accident or a purposeful act of rage or crime – and the report includes the following: “Passers-by stood and watched as ….” Or “People turned away while the assault took place ….”

I use those examples to make my point strongly. Decisions to act are seldom made at a moment of crisis. Crisis creates a moment / minute of indecision in us all. We’re not sure what to do – where to go – how to act – and that moment / minute passes and we’ve done nothing.

My challenge to you, my son, as a man is for you to decide now – today – what you will do when presented with such a crisis. Will you act on behalf of those being hurt? Will you act on behalf of those in danger? Will you act on behalf of those injured? Or will you turn away and go about your business – paralyzed by the moment of indecision?

Those reports I cited earlier of the passers-by and the by-standers – they are people who have not taken the time to ponder how they will behave in those situations. I am not implying that they are bad people – only that they haven’t considered their actions and the moment passes. After which they likely wish they’d done something.

The situations I refer to are not always extreme. They are not always physical in nature. They may be emotional dangers. They may be someone who threatens someone else. The bullies of the world. They may be very loud – or very quiet. They may be very obvious – or very subtle.

There are times when you must consider whether actions are necessary. Words will often be a better way of diffusing a crisis.

So again, my challenge to you is for you to spend time in contemplation of future actions. Ask yourself how you want to be. Run some scenarios in your mind. From the most frightening and life threatening to the most benign - and decide where your limits are.
Love, Dad

OMW - The Attributes of Character - Sidebar 1 - Informing Your Heart

2009-10-03T07:00:00.002-05:00

For my beloved son, Daniel, a United States Marine, currently in Iraq.

It is my humble opinion that many of the helpful articles / books being written today are being done a disservice. They are being read with the eyes only.
Why is this a disservice you ask? Because when we read with our eyes, what we read goes only into our head. The brain sees it and understands, interprets and uses it in its fashion – which in itself is not a bad thing – it’s better than nothing – but the disservice comes insofar as our hearts don’t hear the words.
I find that my head doesn’t always communicate well with my heart. My head uses past experiences, logic and analysis to discern how I interpret and retain what I’ve read..
It is necessary – if I want to truly understand – for me to read out loud. This lets my heart get involved.
Therefore, if I am reading an article, letter or book from which I desire a positive effect, I must choose to make the effort to read aloud – slowly and deliberately so that my heart and my head hear.
So please, my dear son, as you read my “Old Man Wisdom,” do so aloud. I want your head to hear me surely but I want your heart to hear as well.
Love, Dad

Old Man Wisdom #3 - The Attributes of Character

2009-10-02T07:00:00.002-05:00

For my beloved son, Daniel, a United States Marine, currently in Iraq.

Nurturing:
When you were born, your mom and I held you in our arms. We looked into your eyes and smiled. We spoke to you in soft, loving sounds. We were attentive to your needs – whether it was food, water, diaper changes or attention.
You are now a man but those acts we did with love when you were small are still with you. Those acts are still performed in their fashion when we see you. Translating the nurturing that takes place with a small child to the nurturing we do with each other; regardless of circumstance, is pretty simple.
Nurturing others is our call as people. Aside from the providing of sustenance, it is defined in my “dead tree dictionary” as: The act of promoting development and growth.
It matters not whether we are with family, at work, at play – we are nurturing to those around us in some fashion. Positively or negatively. Being aware of our words, our tones and inflections, our touches, our facial expressions and demeanor are all part and parcel of nurturing.
To promote development and growth in those around us is to allow them to be themselves. It is to acknowledge – in words and actions, aloud or tacitly – their importance to us as people.
To nurture means to give a little piece of ourselves to others – not in expectation of receiving back – but in acceptance of others as themselves.
It can be scary – there are times when the nurturer risks rejection – but to accept the risk knowing that it is the way to closeness with others is powerful. To put ourselves out there is freeing. It is the choice of those we come in contact with to accept or reject -but I assure you – like the stick of butter fresh from the refrigerator and left on the counter – those we nurture will soften over time.
As men, nurturing seems to come with more difficulty to us. Provide and protect – the man’s mantra – but remember, if we parse those words, to “provide” for promotes growth and development. To “protect” means to teach self sufficiency – a synonym in my book for growth and development. So get past the idea that men don’t nurture. Real men do.
Love, Dad

Old Man Wisdom #2 - The Attributes of Character

2009-10-01T08:52:00.004-05:00

For my beloved son, Daniel, a United States Marine, currently in Iraq.

Honesty:
Remember when, as a small boy, you admitted that you had hidden Nick’s billfold? At the time you did it, I don’t think you had thought about getting caught. I think you thought you could get away with it – and with whatever money was in it. I think it was only after a while that you knew in your heart that what you did was wrong so when confronted with the question, you admitted your guilt to me.

We all have lapses of honesty. Many times have I walked through a store and thought, “I could just take this.” Many times I have made an error on something at work and thought, “I could blame it on …” Those are examples of lapses and do not indicate dishonesty in and of themselves. They are just lapses – it is part of human nature to question ourselves about different perspectives of our being.

But there are additional “Old Man Wisdom” factors at work here. Honesty, yes. Also integrity and morality – and there is also the “guilt factor.” Guilt weighs a person down. Like a man with an empty wheat sack stopping at each field to bag some kernels, guilt builds slowly and inexorably becoming a full sack over time – hard to carry, hard to handle, hard to unload and if you are lucky enough to unload it, the muscle memory takes awhile to dissipate.

Better to not have the sack to begin with – back to honesty. Honesty is living life without that sack – and the temptation to fill it.

Honesty is being able to be trusted. By anyone – with anything. Honesty means more than “not lying” although that is a crucial piece. Honesty means a man or woman is real – to themselves and others – without pretense or affectations. It means a man or woman does not take advantage of a situation or others. It means you are genuine – what and who I see is what and who you are.

What honesty is not: It is not being “brutally honest.” Usually, you may notice, when that phrase is used, the words that precede or follow it are hurtful to another. There is tact in honesty. There is kindness in honesty. There is caring in honesty. There is love in honesty.

Big deal isn’t it? Remember, an honest man can be made up of all the positive aspects to follow in my “Old Man Wisdom.” A dishonest man will be made of none of them.
Love, Dad

Old Man Wisdom #1 - The Attributes Of Character

2009-09-30T14:20:00.002-05:00

For my beloved son, Daniel, a United States Marine, currently in Iraq.

Optimism:
Abraham Lincoln said, “A man is about as happy as he makes up his mind to be.” To choose to be an optimist makes you one over time. Like wrinkles in your brow (my brow), they don’t get there permanently overnight. It takes time for them to set. It is the same with optimism. Some people are more readily optimistic than others, it’s true, but it is a decision. We have only this day, this hour, this moment to live. The choice to live it with enthusiasm and love, energy and caring, happiness and thankfulness is magical. It brightens ourselves and the light from us shines on others and they reflect it back towards us and others. It is wondrously contagious.
As your dad, if I have influenced you to have optimism, to foster it and embrace it, I am happy. And optimistic.
Love, Dad

Belated Birthday Rumination

2009-09-30T07:00:00.000-05:00

One week past another anniversary of escaping the womb. One week past another completion of solar circumnavigation. Already 11,285,000 miles past the way point. The miles fly by without the awareness of traveling. The years fly by without the awareness of aging.
But a look into any reflective surface and the evidence is there. Like a river bed beginning with a trickle of water, the etching of the land growing deeper with each rain, the body shows the storms of the years, the showers of the seasons, the freezing and thawing of the decades.
Thankful for the shreds of wisdom that accumulate along with the years. Thankful for the ability to recognize blessings in everyone and everything. Thankful for still having awe and wonder for life and love.
Another birthday? So what? They are mile posts only. They are not meant to guide the trip – only to mark how far one has come. The destination is unimportant. It is the joy of the journey that matters. Happy belated birthday to me? So it is. ©

And Now - the News from Chicago

2009-09-29T06:43:00.002-05:00

Another young man was killed today
Four animals were charged
They hit him with clubs in the head
Knocked him down and killed him as he lay

Sixteen years old, going to be seventeen
A good kid by the reports, honor student
Used to being picked on by his peers
Another young man was killed today

Four animals were charged
Another young man was killed today
Another young man was killed today
Another young man was killed today
Another young man was killed to….
Another young man was kill…
Another young man wa…..
Another young man ….,
Another young m….
Another youn…..
Another…..
Anoth…
An….

Can there be any explanation? Any rationale? Any lesson learned? Any hope?

UFO Lands on Orono Estate?

2009-09-26T16:50:00.003-05:00

26-Sep-2009; Orono, MN, USA

Two people reported today that an alien craft had landed last night sometime after dark. Unknown at this time whether the depressions were due to four landing pads plus a support stanchion of one craft or multiple craft, an Orono spokeperson, requesting anonymity, stated,”It is obviously an anomaly, not a normal event – at least for this town.”
The depressions were discovered this morning when the two residents – unnamed within this report out of concern for publicity – awoke and looked out at the lawn towards Lake Minnetonka. One of them offered this, “It was a cool morning and we thought the lake was fogged over but perhaps it wasn’t fog as much as the residue from the UFO’s lifting off the lawn. We detected no odor but it’s widely known that alien technology is far ahead of ours – they don’t even need catalytic converters.”

-------- Men Friends --------

2009-09-26T08:19:00.005-05:00

Ah, men and their sports---------- The ardor with which I
That sense in their shorts-----------Hear these men talk
That seems to support--- -----------Is quite disconcerting
Their need to report----------------- I ponder, I balk
---------\/-------------------------------------\/----------------
Did you see that punk?--------------And I raise my awareness
That run or that dunk?---------------Of the only true game
The shot that was took?--------------The one where life matters
The kick with the hook?--------------From whence all else came
---------\/-------------------------------------\/----------------
Oh jeez did he miss?------------------There is no kicked ball
You boo and I’ll hiss!-----------------No hot shot on goal
Another bad call----------------------- No lay-up or tip-in
The worst of them all!-----------------No “Put-It-In-Da-Hole”
---------\/-------------------------------------\/----------------
Is that all there is to------------------- Just beauty and angles
These guys and their lives?-----------And rhythm and pace
Is this stuff more sacred---------------And fans lolling eating
Than children and wives?-------------With mustard on face ©

---------------------------Go Twins!

2009-09-25T08:28:00.001-05:00

May-2006 – Sitting at Caribou, watching people float in and out, sit and talk, sip and taste the goodness of companionship and friends – and the couples who – being quietly observed from my “distant” sight – inspired the last line of the first stanza……

For you are a true love, a wonder to me
Someone who wakened a longing you see
To walk down a beach basking in sun
Enjoying each other, one with the one

We’ve both seen the pairs who cherish their time
Together as people, each separate, combined
They challenge, cajole, discuss and talk through
Ideas and feelings and things they must do.

They’re honest and open and want to grow far
Each with the other, entranced by the bar
That gets raised every day, a little, a lot
But raised nonetheless, more intimate, more hot

Not in the sexual sense though that’s there
But into each other, a part unaware
A personal nuance, a piece re-revealed
May give rise to an aspect as yet still sealed

The key to this dream is deciding to be
Oneself at the outset, oneself, just me
True to my values, my sense of what’s right
Unfettered by fear of rejection or slight

Strong in my own sense of value and worth
Strong in my own self, God given from birth ©

The Angel

2009-09-24T14:40:00.001-05:00

On my way to Wednesday morning 7 am men’s group. Waiting to turn left onto 101 – old bicycle, seat set low – happy. Life is good…

I saw an angel today
He was riding his bike
Singing away
His ear buds in place
Pedaling to race
‘Cross Route 101
Heading east toward the sun
He wore a red shirt
And his legs showed some muck
From road grit and rain
Flung up and stuck
As he passed by me
His voice sounding sweet
He smiled and kept singing
His mission complete ©

Sittin' On A Fender

2009-09-23T08:44:00.001-05:00

Duane rode his Harley Sportster in a couple of days ago. Three of us were out looking at it and Bob commented about a trip to Sturgis for the bike rally and how this couple had come riding into the campground. She was “sittin’ on a fender” and off I went to write ….

Sittin’ on a fender, she rode up to the place
Where gathered, there were people who had ridden across space
And time to come together and celebrate and be
Enjoy themselves and one another. At Sturgis, they were free.

Free of timeclocks, free of ties and free to sing a song
Free to stay up all the night as they were pulled along
With camaraderie and oft-told tales of life’s downs, ups and woes
As they sat themselves beside the fire and warmed cold feet and toes

But I digress, which is to say, my mind does easily roll
To other thoughts which good times bring upon my heart and soul
This started as a reminisce about a woman , she
Provided me with joy of life as she displayed her glee

Came ridin’ up to Curley’s Bar, her arms around her man
Just sittin’ on a fender, a blanket on steel pan
She was a beauty with long, dark hair and eyes so almond brown
Her smile, it lit the graying eve as she stood up, climbed down

The ride they’d shared was off the roads, she’d mud streaked up her back
But she was laughing and having fun, her spirit was intact
It mattered not, for she was with a man who thought her smart
A man who loved her for herself and had a poet’s heart. ©

2009 Minneapolis Bike Tour - September 20

2009-09-22T06:58:00.001-05:00

Plying their two-wheeled, handle-barred thrones
Still waking up with stiff morning groans
All shapes and sizes arriving en masse
In ones, twos and threesomes, some lay in the grass

To stretch before leaving this chaos of park
And race off to finish before the first lark
They’ll pedal and pant and push as they ride
Along the paved parkways with lakes at their side

But most of us will take a more leisurely pace
And treat it as fun – not so much as a race
First Kenwood with neighbors out lining the street
To wave and encourage this annual fete’

Of people together enjoying the morn
Three thousand plus strong, on bicycles borne
To Lake of the Isles, Nokomis, Calhoun
Look to the west, we can still see the moon

Past Harriet and Cedar, with joggers on paths
To the Falls of Minnehaha, a rest stop at last
The river miles start here and we follow it down
Under the freeway and up into town

Past Gold Medal Park and the Guthrie we ply
O’er old Stone Arch Bridge so flat we can fly
Across the deep water and St. Anthony Main
We follow the river on cobblestones lain

So long ago, when horses trod there
And hundreds of grain men worked for their share
Then northward we turned to follow the flow
To Nord’east and neighbors who pay as they go

The old Grain Belt brewery, still regal in age
As we pedaled our tandem, we turned back the page
Of time, for these homesteads had been here for years
Through good times and bad, through good days and tears

Crost’ over in Camden, then southward we roam
And rode the wide parkways that many call home
Then Theodore Wirth, the park known by name
Through green woods and landscape – not wild, not tame

And now almost done, just one piece to press
A couple of miles of trail to address
And back to the park from where we’d begun
Tired, happy and glad. We’d had so much fun. ©

"Double Trouble" - The Recumbent Tandem

2009-09-21T22:03:00.002-05:00

We've been riding a Rans Recumbent Tandem bicycle this year after having a "normal" tandem last year. The trepidation I had over going to the recumbent (I feared losing power on hills) was not an issue. The gearing takes care of that and the tandem lets us talk together - I can even get a shoulder rub during the ride!! How cool is that?

Looking for a way to be a more friendly couple?
Then my advice is to get you a double.
A bike built for two, that’s partly the answer
Especially if you’re not a very good dancer

Aerobic health rises as you pedal the streets
The two of you working with leg pumping beats
And talk if you chose to, whatever comes up
Its great time together, an intimate sup

Breathing in sunshine, alive and astraddle
A four pedaled wheeler forbids you to battle
It brings two together as one for the goal
Of wind in your face and food for your soul. ©

A Blatant Attempt At Poetic Success - Dear Oprah:

2009-09-20T21:45:00.002-05:00

It has come to my attention that should you deem to mention
A genre’, book or poet, the world will come to know it
So pardon my intrusion but my work does need infusion
Of karma from a greater sphere than I

My mother thinks it’s great stuff, my sisters’ say it’s “Good ‘nuff”
I have no brothers so what they think is moot
But readers find me droll, they say I bare my soul
My heart is on my sleeve with every one

So Oprah won’t you please, just read a few of these
And think it over just a little while
Regardless what you do, my respect for you
Will continue unabated with a smile.

2009-09-19T08:05:00.001-05:00

Sometimes it’s okay to turn down the spout
Of feelings, the words that want to rush out
And sit with my sense of tranquil and peace
In wonder, at dawn, as sun rises east

Silence…..

Thom's Gone

2009-09-18T10:31:00.002-05:00

What is there to say when someone is "let go"? Through no glaring fault of their own, it is done - in the "best interest" of the organization. Though I understand with my head, my heart doesn't listen ...

They let a good man go today
Sent him off with a shrug and his pay
I watched him struggle to come to grips
As he packed his stuff with taut, pursed lips

It hurts my heart to see him go
For as I struggled, he let me know
That he cared about and for me through
His words and deeds, and others too

Sweet man, now out upon the street
With mortgage to pay, needs food to eat
He finds himself without a job
Less place or purpose, a keyless fob

Be safe my friend, I farewell bade
I shant forget, but memories fade. ©

My Son, The Marine

2009-09-18T06:51:00.002-05:00

A friend of mine sent an FW with photos of Marines in Iraq. Manning a fire station in a rain storm. Asleep in foxholes dug between to rows of convoy vehicles. On patrol as a sand storm rages. My son, Daniel is currently serving in Baghdad, the lion’s den . Hence …

That’s him, I think, my son so dear
Though I can’t see his face with all his gear
I know it’s him by the way he stands
I know it’s him by his strong, gloved hands

The way he moves, his purposed gait
Wherever he is, the hour is late
I long to hold him just as I did
When, so long ago, he was just a kid

To tell him I love him and to see him smile
To tell him I love him and all the while
To protect him and clothe him and eat all his greens
To tuck him to bed and fold his blue jeans

That’s him that I see asleep in the sand
Where today is yesterday for him and his band
The pride of this country, our finest, our best
Our young men and women being put to the test

Oh Lord, please protect them, each one of them loved
By those of us here, by you up above
And allow my prayer heard, this moment, this hour
That’s him, I’m sure of, my son, life’s flower ©

Sittin' In The Waiting Room

2009-09-17T10:30:00.004-05:00

Went to see an old friend the other day. He stood me up! Good thing - because if he hadn't, who knows where this would have gone ......

Sitting’ in the waiting room
Waitin’ for “the man”
A friend from quite some time ago
When wildly we ran

From fire to fire, our days so filled
With normal stress and strife
Now all becalmed since we’ve become
More mature in life

So as I sit and ponder
This junction I’ve come to
My mind can’t help but wander
And think of me and you

Young love is such a glorious thing
We’d play along the streams
Our days filled with thoughts of youth
Our heads chock full of schemes

Remembering we’d share our meals
We’d each eat our fair share
Combining germs with every bite
We surely didn’t care

Same spoon, sure, that’s okay
We’d have at our ice cream
No need for separateness with us
We share our hopes and dream

O memories, sweet tastes of pasts
Some fade but others stay
To take us back in time and then
To help us through our day

I sit here in the waiting room
My friend’s now overdue
But that’s okay because I’ve been
Just hangin' with Ol’ Blue. ©

The Bubble

2009-09-16T13:59:00.004-05:00

"The Bubble" was sparked by a conversation with a young man with a very good heart. We were speaking of why acceptance into a group can be so difficult for someone outside the "circle." As we talked, the circle became better described as a bubble and hence, this poem.

There are bubbles we all live in - through out our days and nights
They protect our view, our scenery - of life, love and our plights
As sunshine splits into its parts - as through a prism lens
Our view from through our bubble’s wall is colored and depends

Upon our past experiences, upon our hopes and dreams
Upon the dad who yelled at us, upon our childish schemes
Upon the loves we’ve won and lost, upon the Grandma who
Loved us unconditionally, perhaps an aunt or two

At any rate, to know this, is vital to our task
Which is to be a caring one - to look beyond this mask
For this is what that bubble does. It masks our view of things
Protects us from – or so we think – life’s door dents and its dings

There is danger there - within that thought - of remaining so aloof
From all the pushes and the shoves - that man who’s such a goof
There’s richness in a fabric - as defined by complex weaves
To shield our eyes inside our bubble - akin to fine meshed sieves

To filter out the pulp - the meat of fruit so lushly grown
Left only with a distillation - a yard that’s freshly mown
Neglects the body of the fruit - the grass that holds the life
‘Tis better to have loved and lost. ‘Tis better to face strife

So Lord, I pray thee, please burst it now - and never to return
Within the confines of that orb - and leave to me discern
The fullness of your sunlight - the depth of your love sown
The widest view of your great gifts - your fabric fully known. ©

Buy 1, Get 1 Free - A Geriatric Rap

2009-09-15T21:50:00.002-05:00

Saw my mom the other day. She told me she'd been to Jerry's Foods in Edina. It was "Buy 1, Get 1 Free" day and she excitedly told me of all the things she'd found. The tempo of the line resonated with me - and it wrote itself.

Buy one, get one free
The grocery store mantra of the elderly
Two loaves of bread, cream cheese too
Just a pound of bacon? Oh, that won’t do

Shufflin’ along, filling my cart
The deals the deal, I’m feeling smart
Box of rice, grab some sauce
Making it two, just because

Today’s the day. Ooh, this looks great!
Sliced bananas will be good on my plate
Meat department’s around the bend
What’ll it be? What’ll I spend?

Don’t much matter, I’ll give it away
Score some points with the kids today.
'Cause I’m gonna buy one, get one free
The grocery store mantra of the elderly.©

Review of: “Prince Harming Syndrome” by Karen Salmansohn

2009-09-14T21:55:00.000-05:00

A book came to my attention the other day
My dear one passed it to me as if to say
“You should read this before I do.
It may explain why I love you.”

At least that was the thought I had
The other reason was that it may bode bad
For me to read ‘bout all the stuff
I lack, her rationale’ to huff and puff

Not that she does, don’t misconstrue
She’s not like that, no streaks of blue
But nonetheless, a man can be
A bit unsure of where fits he

Within the fabric of his love’s life
And that’s what caused my angst, my strife.

So read I did.
I started out and read it through
In one long sit, a good book too
To educate a woman of
Her real intents, a real, true love

The manner which the author uses
To press her points and see abuses
Within the context of our heart
She puts quite simply, very smart

She hammers home what she is saying
With humor, care and without braying
She provokes thought, she asks for more
And yet again, says “Show the door”

To men who are not worth the trouble
And there’s a bunch and it’s a double
Yet shall a woman ply advice
Contained herein, she’ll know quite nice

Just what is odd about Prince Harming
And what is even with Prince Charming
And how to use the wisdom she’s imparted
To those who’re tired of “broken hearted”

An Ice Cream Story

2009-09-13T21:52:00.003-05:00

This morning I asked Peter if he had a nice weekend. He told me that his wife and son had gone to Chicago and he and his little girl had spent the weekend together - they'd gone out for dinner and ....

Sitting alone, enjoying my treat
Watching the folks walk down the street
Some hand-in-hand, some further apart
Some distant, some close, connected at heart

I mused as I watched them come near me and pass
Their stories imagined. A young man with sass
Accompanied by a yet girl in high heels
Walking uneasily, fighting a reel

The elderly couple, ambling along,
Dressed finely in old clothes, humming a song
Perhaps to help relive a time in their past
A time when cavorting seemed ever to last

And then as I watched this parade of us all
I saw at the corner a sight to enthrall
A dad and a daughter were making their way
Towards the place I was sitting – an end to their day

She must have been three or four at the most
She smiled as she looked up to her hand holding host
Her daddy looked down at his precious, his love
And I knew his heart cherished his gift from above

They came and they sat, she stood and she twirled
Just showing off, in love with the world
And as I sat back and observed this life scene
Savoring flavors of vanilla and bean

It occurred to me how this memory may part
From her young mind but not from her heart
Too young to remember the details of this
But able to know the sense of her bliss

Her daddy and she were out on the town
The two of them, special and heading on down
For ice cream and time to share, special and dear
For daughter and daddy, the both of them here

Our forming of bonds, our self love to know
Is cast out of these times, these love times we sow
To stand us in good stead all through our days
Of happiness, sadness, joy or malaise

How light was my heart as they finished and left
My ice cream now long gone, a drip in my cleft
And as the eve deepened and light dropped away
They’d shown me His goodness at the end of this day. ©

The Hug

2009-09-12T07:44:00.001-05:00

There is nothing to introduce here. The entire story is contained within ....

I know a little girl who has sneaked up on my heart
We’ve known each other for many years, less two since we’ve been part
Of common lives of families who combined I do derive
Great joy to be a part of – and now she’s almost five.

At any rate, the story here is not about the years
But, truth be told, it is about a grown man and his tears

Of circumstance, shall go unsaid, we didn’t get to see
Each other for a couple weeks and I was sad to be
Apart from her, her childish laugh, her sticking out her tongue
The way she called me, “B come here”, the way her brown hair hung

She’s always been a bit reserved, rebelling at my tries
To tousle hair, to pat her back, to look into her eyes
I wasn’t Grandpa, just a man who loved her Grandma yet
She knew I loved her just the same, kids do know that, you can bet

Then yesterday, my luck, it changed. The stars aligned for me
And I was going to see the lass I longed so much to see
I wondered, “How to let her know I’d missed her, oh, so much.”
And had a thought, a bright idea, a way to bring a touch

She’s into bears, all brown and soft, the teddy kind’s the best
She has her two most favorite ones with her when she’s at rest
A poem I wrote to let her know just how much she was missed
And stuck two snaps of teddy bears at corners as they kissed

As I went to meet with them, with Grandma at her side
My heart was full of worry and woe, concerned I might miss wide
And have my heart rejected, my love she may forsake
But as I read her the short poem, I knew that she would wake

I asked her for a hug you see, a simple, human deed
Expressive of our caring sides, expressive of our need
To feel connected to those whom we’ve come to care about
And feel the closeness of two hearts without a simple doubt

She hugged me hard and held me tight, my heart it soared aloft
She let me know she’d missed me too. How wonderful, how soft.
©
12-Sep-09

Gracie & Hanna - Walking the Dogs - An alliterative essay

2009-09-11T07:47:00.000-05:00

Tethered to two, toothy, long tailed tuggers
Their passion pulls us along promptly
Hoping to hastily head off, heedless of our “Haw!”
To quickly chasten a curiously contentious cat

As we leg it behind the long limbed Labradors
Looking at the loveliness lining the lane
Oaks overhanging, offering acorns to us
Ashes aspiring to achieve altitude
Scrub scavenging remaining sunlight, seeking sustenance

We weary from our walk
Slowing steps, seeking solitude in self
Speaking of what seeps from our souls
Our softness, our sanctity of simplicity

Not to be for long!
Our fierce, four legged, flea bitten, fang bearing flesh eaters are off
Hastening towards a huddling herbivore hiding in the hedge
These canine carnivores! To chase is their concern.
Wildly wending their way after that wascally wabbit.
Tally Ho! ©

Time Travel

2009-09-10T08:52:00.000-05:00

Going through boxes of old photographs the other night. “Simplify your life.” Hot mantra of the masses these days. When the kids were kids, the grand parents and even great grandparents were alive and it seemed – although we knew our lives were progressing – that those days – that vitality – would be within us forever.

We’ve all done it. Old photos of family - holidays, vacations, birthdays, A daunting task sometimes - piles of acetate covered paper – inches thick. We look at each one, absorbing the scene, tossing many aside quickly but often coming across the ones that stop us. We study them – and for a time – our hearts and minds flow backward to that moment – those people, that time of our lives.

Oh, those times. The birth of a child. The love that wells in our hearts recalling that moment. A party in the back yard with Grandma and Grandpa. They are sitting in those old lawn chairs with the lime green and white plastic strapping. They loved me – and still do although they’re gone from here. I loved them – and still do.

The Corvette sitting on the grass in the front yard – freshly washed and waxed. Funny. I probably would have said at that time that “I loved that car” but I would have been wrong. Love is not possible for an inanimate object but I didn’t know that then. Love springs from the meeting of hearts between people – or dogs, the occasional cat.

Christmases. The tree overly decorated with “tinsel” – does anyone besides me remember “tinsel”? Grandma would come over and – strand by strand for the first few hundred – put on the tinsel. After a while, she would make it two strands at a time, then six, then “Lets get this done!” and the tree would glisten in the lamplight for the next two weeks.

Here we are at the family vacation in Duluth. We’re all standing on the rocks with Lake Superior in the background. Dad’s taking the picture so he’s not in it. Look at those clothes! Mom was so young then. A beautiful woman. My sisters were just twerps – maybe 8 and 6 years old. Let’s see, that would have made me 10 – almost 11. Beth hadn’t been born yet. Two more years and she’d be here.

Each photo, each vignette of our lives brings a sense of grounding – and a sense of closeness to those we love.

As the pile diminished, many to be thrown away, many to be saved and savored again the next time – when? – another five years? - perhaps – I realized that I was exhausted. Time travel is tiring. And love is the fuel. ©

A Great Little Place to Call Home - to the tune Me-O-Mi-O

2009-09-09T18:10:00.000-05:00

I live near a town called Excelsior
Should you walk down the street, you’ll meet me or
Someone else you may know 'cause we won’t go
To a town where the clothes shops sell Dior.

Oh, it’s a quaint little place where the kids play
In the sun on the sand at the beach - hey
And the church organs all play in C or
The cantors off key in Excelsior. ©

A Bird In The Cat

2009-09-09T12:48:00.000-05:00

This title amuses me because there is a bird in the poem - although not a "major player" - but a cat is nowhere to be found. The title line was the first thing that came to me - and as I wrote I realized there would be no cat and just a bit player bird! Amazing where the mind goes.

Start the day as a grain of food matter
I wondered what matter I was
A grub came along and inside of a minute
I was inside his soft jaws

There I became a bit of a snack
But as I began to digest
Along came a mouse, a little, gray ball
And quickly I fed a new pest

Here I did languish for just a brief spell
For out of the blue we were hit
Me and the grub and that well fed gray mouse
Were taken aloft in a whit

The old jay was struggling returning to base
And we were all three just agog
Suddenly falling back to soft ground
We landed right next to a frog

Suprised by our coming, he leaped to the pond
And disappeared in the drink

But that skunk who'd been stalking him
Didn't blink twice and down the hatch we did sink.
©
25-Jul-06

Doc's First Poetry Post

2009-09-09T12:28:00.000-05:00

After writing for a number of years, the time has come to shine light on these things and see what they reflect.
For A Brown Dog
She's proud and tall with warm, soft ears
She walks with purposed grace
Her cord-like tail still makes a whap
On walls or Miss Avery's face

Her life force ebbs, her age is old
But muster on yet she will
Confused a bit by what besets her
Yet yearning for the thrill

Of another walk around the lake
Or a trot along the trail
A chance to roam and chew some grass
Or sniff another's tail

Oh brown dog, you precede us
As your essence mists away
Yet knowing that it must be so
To follow you some day

If I believe that we are spirit
With taken human form
It's not such a reach to say the same
For a dog with ears so warm.

© For CoCo - 2-May-08

2009-09-09T11:32:00.000-05:00

This morning, after a too long hiatus, I returned to my Wednesday morning men’s group. As I walked towards the Starbucks front door, it occurred to me that – not unlike the prodigal son – I had finally come to my senses and realized that I had abandoned many wonderful aspects of my life because of my own laziness and inattention. I was embraced and welcomed. I had been missed. I was humbled and honored by these men whom I had grown to love over the six years we’d been meeting – and I still love after being gone for almost two years.
While the past two weeks for me have been the most difficult emotional roller coaster of my life, I have much to be thankful for. And many to be thankful to. Robin is and will always be a catalyst for me. Thank you , my dear one.

2009-09-09T10:05:00.000-05:00

Exciting? Yes. Terrifying? Yes.

What is the upside? To touch people. To reach out and open someone’s heart to something within them that has remained closed – or guarded. To publicly acknowledge and accept that my given talents are not to be denied but embraced and shared.

What is the downside? To touch people. And by doing so, risk derision for audacity – that the conduit that is within me has value outside of myself – to a greater audience than just me and those whom I love.