Thursday, March 22, 2012

End of Days

A friend reminded me today that the end is near, so I thought I'd better write this poem while I still have time:


The ends of days is almost here
I heard it from a Mayan
Their calendar makes it quite clear
That soon we’ll all be dyin’

Long ago they carved it down
In stone with ancient tools
That December 21st this year
Is Mayan April Fools!


When it comes to someone with enough patience to pull off a good practical joke, ya can’t beat a Mayan!
  

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Library of the Mind


So many dusty memories
Rest on such high shelves
That my stooping brain
Can no longer reach them.

And there are low ones too.
I just can’t seem to bend down
Far enough to grasp them
As easily as I once could.

But some volumes remain
With dog-eared pages
Right here in the middle
That I can still reach with ease.

And so I will tell you
The same old stories
Over and over again
Until my library closes.
  

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Desperate Times

I knew I was in trouble the moment that cop looked inside my truck. There I was, caught red-handed with a back seat full of empty whisky bottles. I had no choice but to confess: “Yes officer, all those are mine. Gas prices are so high I’ve been pouring Jack Daniel's into my gas tank to save money.” I was immediately escorted to nearest Emission Inspection Station where my truck blew a .19.  I feel sorry for the cop. He has no idea what to do next.

Friday, February 10, 2012

Roses are Red 2012

My updated version of the classic American poem Roses are Red:
The first and last line remain unchanged. Only the middle has been altered slightly

Roses Are Red (2012)

Roses are red.
This much is true,
But the rest of the poem
They just didn’t think through.
Violets are violet,
But that wouldn’t do
‘cause that rhymes with pilot.
It don’t rhyme with you.

You can’t fly a plane
So why would I express
My love for a pilot
And cause you distress?
A poem that did that
Would not be a success,
So I need something blue
If I want to impress.

A hydrangea maybe,
But that’s a difficult rhyme,
Besides they aren’t even blue
Half of the time.
And they’re not very vivid
Except in their prime,
So hydrangea’s out
I need something sublime.

Like the sky or the ocean
But that’s so overused,
And of such overuse
I shall not be accused.
I will think up a word
That will leave you enthused,
And failing at that
I will shoot for amused.

And when that is done
I will fix the next part.
That “sugar is sweet” line
Is no work of art.
I need something sweeter
To get to your heart,
But high fructose corn syrup
Just isn’t smart.

How ‘bout syrup or Splenda?
Perhaps Sweet ‘n Low.
Do any of those choices
Make your cheeks glow?
Would one make you want to be
My steady beau?
Or should I just uncork
A sweet red Bordeaux?

Oh wait… It just came to me!
Now the whole poem is true,
And it comes from the heart
So I hope this will do:
Roses are red.
The fifth color from the top of a rainbow is blue.
Those little nectar pouches on honey bee legs are sweet,
And so are you!
  

Monday, February 6, 2012

New photos are up... click over there →

If anyone's interested...
Photos of our recent ice storm are now posted in Moody's Photo Album.
Best viewed with hot chocolate!

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Happy Hanukkah.

Just a reminder that a 2,176 year old tradition begins anew tonight. So tonight in honor of all Jews living and passed who have helped to light up the world we live in, I light my menorah. I don’t light it out of a profound belief in the miracle of the Maccabees, for I don’t believe in miracles. Nor do light it out of any family tradition, for I was raised Roman Catholic. I light it in honor of the millions of Jewish families who should be lighting their own menorahs tonight; the millions of “missing families” who don’t even exist today because the men and women who would have been their parents and grandparents were slaughtered in the Holocaust. Slaughtered not because of anything they had done, but merely because of who they were.


Hanukkah means "to dedicate."  It’s not a major Jewish holiday, but it is the most well known Jewish holiday to non-Jews, so I think it’s a good time for us non-Jews to dedicate ourselves to remembering the Holocaust; a good time for the world to dedicate itself to never letting such genocide happen again. Religion aside, respecting and protecting all people is just the right thing to do, so for the next eight nights I will light the menorah for those who never had the chance. Happy Hanukkah.

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

The Ant Farm Incident

It was during the summer of 1989 when my stepson Steven first took an interest in ant farming. Ah yes, that innocent August when hot days were as long as licorice ropes, and a six-year-old's dreams were limited only by the curb at each end of the block.

When I heard the news I remembered how I once asked for an ant farm too. I guess I didn’t play my cards right though because I ended up with a neurotic hand-me-down squirrel instead; a squirrel that bit me all summer long, and hibernated during the winter. Lousy gatherer, that’s all he was. He couldn’t farm a lick. Well I wasn’t about to let this kid’s dream be crushed like mine was, so we sat down... you know, man to man like, and we had a little chat.

“So" I said "ya want to be an ant farmer eh?”
“Umm... yes.”
“It’s a big responsibility ya know.”
“Umm... it’s only four dollars.”
“Sea Monkey’s were only four dollars, but do you remember what the food cost?”
“But ants eat crumbs, and junk.”

Well, that was good enough for me. The Acme Deluxe Ponderosa Ant Farm arrived in the mail three weeks later.

“The ant farm’s here!” I announced.
“The what?” said Steven.
“The ant farm we wanted, I mean you wanted… it came today.”
“Can I watch TV?”
“Don’t you want to put your farm together?”
“Are there ants?”
“They should be in the box. Let’s open it up.”

We spilled the contents of the Acme Deluxe Ponderosa Ant Farm out on the table and took a quick inventory. Green plastic parts, clear plastic parts, bag of sand, tube of live ants, and one instruction manual/accessories order form.

“Well it looks like it’s all here,” I said.
“Can I take the ants out?”
“No, no wait. We have to set up the farm first.”

I've never followed the directions to assemble anything in my life, and I have a drawer full of spare parts to prove it, but I thought this would be the perfect time to set a good step-fatherly example and do this thing by the book.

STEP 1. Assemble the base. See fig. 1

“Can I take the ants out?” Steven repeated.
“Hang on, I’m reading the instructions. Here, snap these two pieces together.”

Before getting to STEP 2. I spied a note on the side of the instruction sheet that said “HINT: Placing ants in freezer before introduction to ant farm will calm ants for easier transfer.”

“Hey, Steven it says here we should put the ants in the freezer.”
“Won’t that hurt ‘em?”
“No, no, it’ll just slow ‘em down a bit so they don’t escape when you put ‘em in the farm.”

So into the freezer went the crew of Ant Station Zebra... Future inhabitants of the Ponderosa Dunes Agricultural Community.

STEP 2. Snap feet to base. See fig. 2... and so on it went as we reviewed each instruction carefully, ate some dinner, and talked about farming... ant farming, and farming in general. Eventually it was time to pour in the sand, so in it went. Well mostly in, a little out.

“We can sweep that up later," I said, "Look, we’re almost done!”
“But where are the tunnels?”
“Oh that’s the fun part. You get to watch the ants dig the tunnels.”

STEP 9. Assemble ant farm lid. See fig. 9

“Snap, click," and the farm was ready
"Can I take the ants out now?” Steven asked.
“Sure, go get ‘em. It’s time to start farmin’."

STEP 10. To calm ants for easy transfer into their new environment place ant vial in freezer for 2 minutes. IMPORTANT: Do not leave ants in freezer longer than 5 minutes!

“Wholly shit!!” I let slip.
“What?”
“Oh nothing… Hurry up, get the ants!”

The ants poured into their new home like a teaspoon of Rice Krispies.

“When are they gonna start digging?” the new farm boss asked.
“Well they need to thaw out first” I said, wondering where I could find a replacement ant colony at this hour.

We watched, and we waited. Then we watched, and waited a little longer. It was like waiting for that first kernel of popcorn to pop, except in this case there would be no second or third, let alone any forth or fifth kernels popping. Five minutes passed, and then... very un-suddenly there was movement in the pile. A lone limping ant emerged from the heap of assorted legs, antennae, and thoraxes. It looked like it had just climbed Mt. Everest barefoot with no oxygen. In other words it was very calm. Slowly it ambled half way across the Ponderosa before stopping to rest.

“What about the rest of ‘em?” Steven inquired.
“I think we got a bad batch.”

The next hour confirmed that yes, we did indeed get a bad batch.

"Well, it's gettin' late," I said.
"They're dead huh?"
"Yeah, but maybe we can find some more outside tomorrow.”
“Yeah, maybe.”

And so we placed the ant farm up on the dresser...
right next to the dried up Sea Monkey aquarium.

“Good night.” I told Steven
“Good night.”