...an old poem of mine that never saw the light of day. It has been in a drawer for a very long time, by which I mean since the 1990s. I’m not even sure it is finished. For better or worse, here it is:
The Rather Odd Story Of Iris McGee
by Robert Henry Brague
In a house at the edge of a deep, dark wood,
Near the place where Irene’s castle once stood,
There lived a young woman named Iris McGee.
She washed clothes on Mondays from seven to three;
On Tuesdays she ironed, then opened her mail;
On Wednesdays she waxed all the floors without fail;
On Thursdays she dusted and made up her bed;
On Fridays she painted the living room red;
On Saturdays, wearing a white wedding gown,
She drove a green tractor six miles into town,
Ate lunch at the deli and bought some new shoes,
Attended a concert, and paid union dues,
And waved at the townfolk, who thought her quite odd.
On Sundays that rained, she would think about God.
On Sundays with sun, she would sleep until eight,
Then go to her garden and swing on the gate;
She’d talk to the squirrels and prune a few trees,
For these were traditions among the McGees.
Now Iris, not one to break with tradition,
Was the twelfth in her family to hold the position
Of “Ringer of Bells and Singer of Blues”
At the church two blocks east of the place she bought shoes.
She loved ringing bells, but the blues made her cry,
So she thought and she thought till she thought she knew why:
The bells gave her joy but the blues made her sad;
The blues made her cry but the bells made her glad!
So one Sunday, early, she told them the news:
She’d gladly play bells, but she’d sing no more blues.
It caused a great stir when the church heard about it,
But she said, “Sing the blues? I most seriously doubt it!
I can’t sing sad songs when my joy is so full!
I’m off to the belfry the bell ropes to pull!”
She climbed up the staircase and started to play,
And the townfolk said, “Iris is happy today!”
They started to hum and they started to smile,
And at the bus station they stood single file
With never a murmur at having to wait
For a bus that was always a half-hour late
(It took them to jobs in the next county over
Where they packed jars of honey from local-grown clover),
And even the corner policeman was singing,
For Iris McGee was again at her ringing.
For Iris had told them, “This day you must choose.”
And never again did the townfolk hear blues.
She rang all the bells till no more could be found;
She rang them each day until joy did abound,
And the townfolk, with laughter and joy their hearts brimming,
Left off riding buses and took up team swimming.
The moral of this poem might be “It is possible to have too much of a good thing.”
Or it might be “My mama done tol’ me, when I was in knee-pants, My mama done tol’ me, Son, a woman’ll sweet talk and give ya the big eye, but when the sweet talkin’s done, a woman’s a two-face, a worrisome thing who’ll leave ya to sing the blues in the night.” (Don’t send your complaints to me, send them to Johnny Mercer.)
Or the moral of this poem might be “Never try to make sense when you can leave your readers thoroughly confused.”
For a complete change of pace, read this.
Or perhaps you’d prefer to stare at a swatch of Yves Klein blue for a while.
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout
...famously would not take the garbage out.
I know it’s hard to believe, but I was unaware of this fact/poem/ song/whatever it is until Shooting Parrots created a post today about its author, Shel Silverstein.
As my good deed for the day, I decided to share both the poem and Shooting Parrot’s post with you.
In addition, here are two cartoons from one of Shel Silverstein’s books, Uncle Shelby’s ABZ Book (if you need to, click on each cartoon to enlarge it):
To see a picture of Mr. Silverstein and learn a bit more about him, click here.
I know it’s hard to believe, but I was unaware of this fact/poem/ song/whatever it is until Shooting Parrots created a post today about its author, Shel Silverstein.
As my good deed for the day, I decided to share both the poem and Shooting Parrot’s post with you.
In addition, here are two cartoons from one of Shel Silverstein’s books, Uncle Shelby’s ABZ Book (if you need to, click on each cartoon to enlarge it):
To see a picture of Mr. Silverstein and learn a bit more about him, click here.
Monday, May 20, 2013
Nobody ever ’splained it to me before...
Here is a clever summarization that I found on Facebook of the news briefings by Jay Carney, press secretary to President Obama, during the last two or three weeks:
Apparently President Truman was wrong all those decades ago. Apparently the buck doesn’t stop here.
Or perhaps during this very interesting month of Benghazi-gate, IRS-gate, and Associated Press telephone records-gate, Jay Carney should have changed his name to Jay Blarney.
I rarely believe anything Jay Carney or President Obama says any more. If the president didn’t know, he certainly should have known. It reminds me of a scene from the movie Cool Hand Luke:
What we have here, allegedly, is “a fail-yuh to communicate.”
If some people had their way, the two photographs in this post would be interchangeable.
And if the president truly didn’t know, this country is in far worse condition than I thought.
Apparently President Truman was wrong all those decades ago. Apparently the buck doesn’t stop here.
Or perhaps during this very interesting month of Benghazi-gate, IRS-gate, and Associated Press telephone records-gate, Jay Carney should have changed his name to Jay Blarney.
I rarely believe anything Jay Carney or President Obama says any more. If the president didn’t know, he certainly should have known. It reminds me of a scene from the movie Cool Hand Luke:
What we have here, allegedly, is “a fail-yuh to communicate.”
If some people had their way, the two photographs in this post would be interchangeable.
And if the president truly didn’t know, this country is in far worse condition than I thought.
Friday, May 17, 2013
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
This year Mother’s Day and my father’s birthday fell on the same day
My father was born on May 12, 1906. Last Sunday -- May 12, 2013 -- was Mother’s Day in the United States. Dad would be 107 years old now if he hadn’t died at the age of 61 in 1967.
My father was older than Mother’s Day. Wikipedia says that the modern holiday of Mother’s Day was first celebrated in 1908, when Anna Jarvis held a memorial for her mother in Grafton, West Virginia. She then began a campaign to make “Mother’s Day” a recognized holiday in the United States. Although she was successful in 1914, she was already disappointed with its commercialization by the 1920s.
That Wikipedia article also includes these fascinating bits of information:
“As the American holiday was adopted by other countries and cultures, the date was changed to fit already existing celebrations honoring motherhood, such as Mothering Sunday in the United Kingdom or, in Greece, the Orthodox celebration of the presentation of Jesus Christ to the temple (February 2nd). Mothering Sunday is often referred to as “Mother’s Day” even though it is an unrelated celebration.
“In some countries the date was changed to a date that was significant to the majority religion, such as Virgin Mary Day in Catholic countries. Other countries selected a date with historical significance. For example, Bolivia’s Mother’s Day is the date of a battle in which women participated.
“Ex-communist countries usually celebrated the socialist International Women’s Day instead of the more capitalist Mother’s Day. Some ex-communist countries, such as Russia, still follow this custom or simply celebrate both holidays, which is the custom in Ukraine.”
There now, wasn’t that, er, fascinating?
But I was speaking about my father.
Dad was the youngest of five boys, which probably drove him a little crazy, which probably played a part in driving me a little crazy too. His father’s name was Elmer Ellsworth, which didn't help. His mother’s name was Edith Lillian; Elmer called her Lil. The boys were Arthur Everett (Art), John Henry (John), Leo Ellsworth (Leo), Daniel Eugene (Dan), and my father, who was Clifford Ray but was called Ted, which didn’t help either. In his younger days he was known as Ray Clifford, which also was undoubtedly a contributing factor.
Not that there’s anything wrong with being a little crazy.
I recommend it.
Grandpa Elmer was born in 1866 in Pennsylvania and died in 1949 in Iowa at the age of 82, just before my eighth birthday. I had never met him but I remember being very upset, crying buckets of tears that he had died before we ever had the chance to meet.
Grandma Lil was born in 1877 in Minnesota and died in 1938 in Iowa at the age of 61, three years before I was born. I never met her either, but I never cried buckets of tears for her. Go figure.
It strikes me now for the first time that my father and his mother both died at 61 years of age, which I had never noticed before.
As none of this is probably of any interest to anyone but me, I will stop now.
After all, I promised at the top of my blog to do my best not to bore you, and I always keep my promises.
My mother was not from Bolivia, but her battle began the day she married Dad and didn’t end until the day she died.
My father was older than Mother’s Day. Wikipedia says that the modern holiday of Mother’s Day was first celebrated in 1908, when Anna Jarvis held a memorial for her mother in Grafton, West Virginia. She then began a campaign to make “Mother’s Day” a recognized holiday in the United States. Although she was successful in 1914, she was already disappointed with its commercialization by the 1920s.
That Wikipedia article also includes these fascinating bits of information:
“As the American holiday was adopted by other countries and cultures, the date was changed to fit already existing celebrations honoring motherhood, such as Mothering Sunday in the United Kingdom or, in Greece, the Orthodox celebration of the presentation of Jesus Christ to the temple (February 2nd). Mothering Sunday is often referred to as “Mother’s Day” even though it is an unrelated celebration.
“In some countries the date was changed to a date that was significant to the majority religion, such as Virgin Mary Day in Catholic countries. Other countries selected a date with historical significance. For example, Bolivia’s Mother’s Day is the date of a battle in which women participated.
“Ex-communist countries usually celebrated the socialist International Women’s Day instead of the more capitalist Mother’s Day. Some ex-communist countries, such as Russia, still follow this custom or simply celebrate both holidays, which is the custom in Ukraine.”
There now, wasn’t that, er, fascinating?
But I was speaking about my father.
Dad was the youngest of five boys, which probably drove him a little crazy, which probably played a part in driving me a little crazy too. His father’s name was Elmer Ellsworth, which didn't help. His mother’s name was Edith Lillian; Elmer called her Lil. The boys were Arthur Everett (Art), John Henry (John), Leo Ellsworth (Leo), Daniel Eugene (Dan), and my father, who was Clifford Ray but was called Ted, which didn’t help either. In his younger days he was known as Ray Clifford, which also was undoubtedly a contributing factor.
Not that there’s anything wrong with being a little crazy.
I recommend it.
Grandpa Elmer was born in 1866 in Pennsylvania and died in 1949 in Iowa at the age of 82, just before my eighth birthday. I had never met him but I remember being very upset, crying buckets of tears that he had died before we ever had the chance to meet.
Grandma Lil was born in 1877 in Minnesota and died in 1938 in Iowa at the age of 61, three years before I was born. I never met her either, but I never cried buckets of tears for her. Go figure.
It strikes me now for the first time that my father and his mother both died at 61 years of age, which I had never noticed before.
As none of this is probably of any interest to anyone but me, I will stop now.
After all, I promised at the top of my blog to do my best not to bore you, and I always keep my promises.
My mother was not from Bolivia, but her battle began the day she married Dad and didn’t end until the day she died.
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Quote of the day (and maybe week/month/year)
My thanks go out to bloggers David and Nancy French for the following morsel from 23-year-old Survivor contestant Eddie, describing what he’d do with the money if he won the $1 million prize:
“If I do win the million dollar prize I want to open, like, a dog kinda like shelter kennel playpen area, like attached to a bar. Like, those are my two favorite things. I like dogs and I like bars, so if I can open a bar, and, like, you just bring your dog there, that would be unbelievable.”
Readers, put that in your pipe and smoke it.
To see a picture of Eddie, click here. The scary part is that Eddie looks normal.
This just in: Eddie didn’t win.
“If I do win the million dollar prize I want to open, like, a dog kinda like shelter kennel playpen area, like attached to a bar. Like, those are my two favorite things. I like dogs and I like bars, so if I can open a bar, and, like, you just bring your dog there, that would be unbelievable.”
Readers, put that in your pipe and smoke it.
To see a picture of Eddie, click here. The scary part is that Eddie looks normal.
This just in: Eddie didn’t win.
Monday, May 13, 2013
No fairy tale, this
Once upon a time there was a Mommy and a Daddy who had two little girls in quick succession and another child on the way. Shortly after a third little girl was born, the Mommy had a little talk with the Daddy that resulted in the Daddy’s paying a visit to his doctor’s office for a little snip-snip-snipping that was designed to make a vas deferens, er, vast difference in the Mommy’s and Daddy’s need for any future family planning counseling.
Unfortunately, the Daddy did not heed the nice doctor’s advice to refrain from his favorite activity (the Daddy’s, not the doctor’s, although it might also have been the doctor’s, albeit with a different Mommy) for at least six weeks.
Lo (and behold), much to her surprise, the Mommy found herself once again with child. So much for the efficacy of modern medicine, especially when Daddies disregard what their doctors tell them.
The fourth child, born 11 months after the third daughter’s entry into the world and 10 months after the Daddy’s visit to his doctor’s office, turned out to be a little boy. Before the crown prince joined the three little princesses, the Daddy paid another visit to his doctor’s office for another round of snip-snip-snipping, which this time proved successful. There were no more crown princes or princesses.
Sixteen, seventeen years passed.
The crown prince, the pride and joy of his Mommy and Daddy (especially his Daddy, whose virility/lack of self-control was legend among the family’s circle of friends), announced that he was gay. The Mommy and Daddy and all three of the princesses were very sad. The Mommy in particular flat out refused to believe it.
Ten or twelve more years passed, bringing us up to the present day.
This particular family is real, not fictional, and well-known to your correspondent. The eldest daughter has always been a very quiet person, but the other five members of the family have an opinion on anything and everything and have never shown the slightest reluctance to share it with one and all. Only the delicate story I shared with you at the beginning prevents me from saying that this family, by and large, lets it all hang out. Yes, they do. On Facebook even. Especially on Facebook.
A few days ago, the crown prince (I’ll him “Ethan Smith”) posted on his own wall a comment that he had written on someone else’s wall in response to that person’s ‘retracting his homosexuality’ and joining a group called “Black Hebrew Israelites.” Ethan had written, “You can deceive yourself all you would like about your sexual orientation, that is your prerogative, but you cannot change the reality of it. I personally find it sad that you’ve joined a truly interesting group to follow and now have to alter your state of being just to find self-worth. But I digress. To each his own; just don’t preach this bogus religious scapegoat as a means to degrade the LGBT community.” Ethan then said he would appreciate the support if readers agreed with his comment.
Several people responded, among them Ethan’s mother (I’ll call her “Mary Lou Smith”). She said, “People can change. Some people choose the lifestyle and they can choose not to be in that lifestyle.”
Ethan replied, “Being homosexual is not a choice. If someone ‘decides’ to be any sexuality other than how they feel is deceitful to not only themselves but to everyone around them.”
Mary Lou replied, “I don’t agree...I know people that have been gay and then been straight or vice versa; they are bisexual but decide to go one way...not all homosexuals are the same...”
Ethan then said, “I think you really need to have a better comprehension on what constitutes a sexuality.”
I couldn’t help thinking that this conversation should have been held in the privacy of their own home and how downright sad it was that they were having it on Facebook.
At this point, someone else (I’ll call her “Barbara”) joined the conversation and said, “I have never known anyone who has changed their sexuality and have found peace and happiness.”
Ethan replied, “Me neither, Barbara. That’s why certain states have even gone so far as to ban ‘conversion therapy’ because it’s wrong and incomprehensibly destructive.”
Another person (I’ll call him “Derek”) then wrote the following lengthy comment:
“Mrs. Smith, hopefully you can lend me a hand to better understand the bible. You’ve made it clear that you are so knowledgeable when it comes to homosexuality so I’m sure you have plenty of knowledge in so many other aspects of Leviticus as well. Because of you, when someone tries to defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind him that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination. End of debate. I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some of the specific laws and how to best follow them.
a) When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it creates a pleasing odor for the Lord (Lev. 1:9). The problem is my neighbors. They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I smite them?
b) I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a fair price for her?
c) I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in her period of menstrual uncleanness (Lev. 15:19-24). The problem is, how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offense.
d) Lev. 25:44 states that I may indeed possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are purchased from neighboring nations. A friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can’t I own Canadians?
e) I have a neighbor who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2 clearly states he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself?
f) A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an abomination (Lev. 11:10), it is a lesser abomination than homosexuality. I don’t agree. Can you settle this?
g) Lev. 21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some wiggle room here?
h) Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the hair around their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden by Lev.19:27. How should they die?
i) I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?
j) My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev. 19:19 by planting two different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/ polyester blend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town together to stone them (Lev.24:10-16)? Couldn’t we just burn them to death at a private family affair like we do with people who sleep with their in-laws (Lev. 20:14)?
Thank you for serving to remind us that God’s word is eternal and unchanging. I look forward to your responses to these questions that I have been seeking answers to.”
Whoa!
The last time I checked, Ethan’s mother, Mary Lou, had not rejoined the conversation.
As a conservative Christian, I firmly believe that Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever (Hebrews 13:8) but also that we must learn how to rightly divide the word of truth (Second Timothy 2:15). We should study to understand to whom something was written, and by whom, and when, and where, and why. Could it be possible that some things are intended only for a particular people at a particular time in history, and other things are intended for all people at all times in history? What a concept! The trick, I think -- perhaps challenge is a better word -- lies in knowing which are which. I can’t help thinking that Derek and Ethan may know some things that Ethan’s mother needs to learn, and that Ethan’s mother may know some things that Derek and Ethan need to learn.
Moral: As this is not one of Aesop’s fables, there is no moral. Also, as this is not a fairy tale, there is no “and they all lived happily ever after” either. Not yet, anyway.
Unfortunately, the Daddy did not heed the nice doctor’s advice to refrain from his favorite activity (the Daddy’s, not the doctor’s, although it might also have been the doctor’s, albeit with a different Mommy) for at least six weeks.
Lo (and behold), much to her surprise, the Mommy found herself once again with child. So much for the efficacy of modern medicine, especially when Daddies disregard what their doctors tell them.
The fourth child, born 11 months after the third daughter’s entry into the world and 10 months after the Daddy’s visit to his doctor’s office, turned out to be a little boy. Before the crown prince joined the three little princesses, the Daddy paid another visit to his doctor’s office for another round of snip-snip-snipping, which this time proved successful. There were no more crown princes or princesses.
Sixteen, seventeen years passed.
The crown prince, the pride and joy of his Mommy and Daddy (especially his Daddy, whose virility/lack of self-control was legend among the family’s circle of friends), announced that he was gay. The Mommy and Daddy and all three of the princesses were very sad. The Mommy in particular flat out refused to believe it.
Ten or twelve more years passed, bringing us up to the present day.
This particular family is real, not fictional, and well-known to your correspondent. The eldest daughter has always been a very quiet person, but the other five members of the family have an opinion on anything and everything and have never shown the slightest reluctance to share it with one and all. Only the delicate story I shared with you at the beginning prevents me from saying that this family, by and large, lets it all hang out. Yes, they do. On Facebook even. Especially on Facebook.
A few days ago, the crown prince (I’ll him “Ethan Smith”) posted on his own wall a comment that he had written on someone else’s wall in response to that person’s ‘retracting his homosexuality’ and joining a group called “Black Hebrew Israelites.” Ethan had written, “You can deceive yourself all you would like about your sexual orientation, that is your prerogative, but you cannot change the reality of it. I personally find it sad that you’ve joined a truly interesting group to follow and now have to alter your state of being just to find self-worth. But I digress. To each his own; just don’t preach this bogus religious scapegoat as a means to degrade the LGBT community.” Ethan then said he would appreciate the support if readers agreed with his comment.
Several people responded, among them Ethan’s mother (I’ll call her “Mary Lou Smith”). She said, “People can change. Some people choose the lifestyle and they can choose not to be in that lifestyle.”
Ethan replied, “Being homosexual is not a choice. If someone ‘decides’ to be any sexuality other than how they feel is deceitful to not only themselves but to everyone around them.”
Mary Lou replied, “I don’t agree...I know people that have been gay and then been straight or vice versa; they are bisexual but decide to go one way...not all homosexuals are the same...”
Ethan then said, “I think you really need to have a better comprehension on what constitutes a sexuality.”
I couldn’t help thinking that this conversation should have been held in the privacy of their own home and how downright sad it was that they were having it on Facebook.
At this point, someone else (I’ll call her “Barbara”) joined the conversation and said, “I have never known anyone who has changed their sexuality and have found peace and happiness.”
Ethan replied, “Me neither, Barbara. That’s why certain states have even gone so far as to ban ‘conversion therapy’ because it’s wrong and incomprehensibly destructive.”
Another person (I’ll call him “Derek”) then wrote the following lengthy comment:
“Mrs. Smith, hopefully you can lend me a hand to better understand the bible. You’ve made it clear that you are so knowledgeable when it comes to homosexuality so I’m sure you have plenty of knowledge in so many other aspects of Leviticus as well. Because of you, when someone tries to defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind him that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination. End of debate. I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some of the specific laws and how to best follow them.
a) When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it creates a pleasing odor for the Lord (Lev. 1:9). The problem is my neighbors. They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I smite them?
b) I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a fair price for her?
c) I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in her period of menstrual uncleanness (Lev. 15:19-24). The problem is, how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offense.
d) Lev. 25:44 states that I may indeed possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are purchased from neighboring nations. A friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can’t I own Canadians?
e) I have a neighbor who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2 clearly states he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself?
f) A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an abomination (Lev. 11:10), it is a lesser abomination than homosexuality. I don’t agree. Can you settle this?
g) Lev. 21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some wiggle room here?
h) Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the hair around their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden by Lev.19:27. How should they die?
i) I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?
j) My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev. 19:19 by planting two different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/ polyester blend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town together to stone them (Lev.24:10-16)? Couldn’t we just burn them to death at a private family affair like we do with people who sleep with their in-laws (Lev. 20:14)?
Thank you for serving to remind us that God’s word is eternal and unchanging. I look forward to your responses to these questions that I have been seeking answers to.”
Whoa!
The last time I checked, Ethan’s mother, Mary Lou, had not rejoined the conversation.
As a conservative Christian, I firmly believe that Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever (Hebrews 13:8) but also that we must learn how to rightly divide the word of truth (Second Timothy 2:15). We should study to understand to whom something was written, and by whom, and when, and where, and why. Could it be possible that some things are intended only for a particular people at a particular time in history, and other things are intended for all people at all times in history? What a concept! The trick, I think -- perhaps challenge is a better word -- lies in knowing which are which. I can’t help thinking that Derek and Ethan may know some things that Ethan’s mother needs to learn, and that Ethan’s mother may know some things that Derek and Ethan need to learn.
Moral: As this is not one of Aesop’s fables, there is no moral. Also, as this is not a fairy tale, there is no “and they all lived happily ever after” either. Not yet, anyway.
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