May The Daily (W)Rite wk1

The New Daily (W)Rite

wk o1

Thursday,

"The month May was named for the Greek goddess Maia, who was identified with the
 Roman era goddess of fertility, Bona Dea, whose festival was held in May. Conversely, the
Roman poet Ovid provides a second etymology, in which he says that the month of May is named for  the maiores, Latin for "elders," and that the following month (June) is named for the uniores, or "young people" (Fasti VI.88)." -Wikipedia

   Yes, it is May 1st, May Day! honestly, I had forgotten all about it being a "holiday!" I remember celebrating May Day in elementary school, though. The school erected this giant May pole in the middle of the play ground and the WHOLE school came out and dance around it. The WHOLE SCHOOL. We never knew as a kid why we were doing it. We just knew it was fun.

 But May is most important to me because my birthday is in MAY! Yeah, hitting the big six-six this month, 66 years old! Yeah, I'm not quite the Beast (666). However, a few old girlfriends might say, "Close enough for us!" I think birthdays are important. It is the ONE time of year when we celebrate the individual. One day a year it is all about that one person you know who was born on a certain date. It's a good thing to celebrate the birth of a person. For one day they are celebrities, people recognize their existence. Yeah, a very good thing. And mine is coming up! I always do something special for my birthday. I take myself to a movie, maybe dinner, or to the zoo or something. Yeah, sometimes I share my birthday with others but . . . I always like one day for me to just celebrate  . . . me. The biggest thing I do on my birthday is write myself a birthday poem. I've been writing the poems for ten years (or more)! Here's the one I wrote last year:

… At 65

I count the change inside my pocket with my left hand,

my fingers know instinctively the weight and size            
of quarters, nickels, dimes… a delinquent penny
that tries so hard to mask its absolute unworthiness.
But it can’t fool me; Lincoln’s beard is far too prominent.

With eyes half closed I watch the sparrows picking

through the spring-green lawns outside the window.
An extended winter for them; famine and cold,
a darkness so thick the barn owl refused
to hunt at night. Even the sturdy crow refused—

Well, that’s not quite right, no, not true at all.

Crows would never miss an opportunity to stir-up trouble,
taking what they want without a thought for
self-inflicted harms, surviving one worm at a time.
But they hope, crows do, and they pray and so
often they sing when they  really shouldn’t… off key,
most times… boy, how we wish that they wouldn’t.

I once believed myself a crow. A dark, black creature with

enormous kite like wings, sculpting brutal midnight
from the skin of the sky with my ferocious Ginsu beak.
All the while Her Moon-ship screamed at me, “Stop that!”
But I ignored her, didn’t care to hear, never notice all the tears
forming on her cratered face, dissolving into desperate stars.
Selfish little girls are crows, oh, yes, that’s what we are.

According to my fingers there’s exactly sixty-five cents lost somewhere

within the gravitational folds of my black-hole pocket. Should I take
their word for it or count it myself? No. Not once have they lied to me.
Well… Except that one time when I desperately begged them to do so.

Written for Robert R. Woods

on his 65th birthday

May 23rd, 2013

Friday, May o2, 2o14

 

  

  

   Did this interview for a blogger a few weeks ago. He was doing all kinds of interviews with Vietnam Vets for VV Day, which I wasn't even aware existed. Anyway, He wanted a picture of me and we went outside, I stood against a brick wall, and snap, snap! See ya later. I posted a copy of the picture on my Facebook page and David commented that " Man, it looks like the same pose you used in the poster for Cuckoo's Nest!" And he was right! It was almost the same pose! The Nest poster was around thirty-eight years ago. I guess it goes to show that some things don't always change that much, maybe physically, maybe, but thoughts, attitude, dreams, they take longer to dissolve . . . yeah, the memory holds on for most of us. Not sure that's always a good thing. There's a lot of things I've done or have had done to me that I wish I could forget, like that time the drunken stepfather stuck a shotgun in my gut, or the time me and Adcock broke up, her leaving me all alone in L. A. where I didn't want to be in the first place. Yeah, shit like that. I could do without the memory. You know that "wise" saying, "Those who do not learn history are doomed to repeat it."? Well, when it comes to bad things in one's life, I don't think it holds true. I think the MORE we remember, the MORE likely we are to repeat the same mistakes over and over again in an attempt, I guess, to get it right. That's a laugh.

   Went with David to his physical therapy today. Not sure what's wrong with him, and it's none of my business anyway. As the physical therapist took him to the exercise room, I said, "I expect you to

come back 20 years younger." Everybody in the waiting room laughed. Most of them were even older than me and David so I guess they kind of related to the idea, at least. It's not fun to sit in a physical therapy waiting room because a lot of seriously fucked up people come in there. This one kid, who looked like a high school football player, was all hunched over, clinging to one of this four pronged canes, and, brother, every move he made just trying to get into the building HURT! And day before yesterday this really, REALLY old guy came in for a massage and he had to have three caregivers to walk him in. I was wondering why they didn't just roll him in, in a wheelchair. I guess, he needed to keep walking even though it took three people to help him walk AND sit down. I think I fear that most about getting old. Can't move around, do my thing. Mind going? That's bad too, but not as bad as not being able to go anywhere, do anything without all kinds of folks to help you.



Saturday, May o3, 2o14

 

  It's a beautiful Saturday afternoon outside my window. But for me it's still morning. I didn't even open my eyes until 11:30 AM.  I gotta get out of this habit of staying up until five or so in the A M. Not sure how I got into it in the first place. Maybe because when I was working, I always had to jump out of bed by six every morning. Now I don't have to. But I should. I need to get up early, jump in the shower, get dressed and head out to The Gray Owl and WRITE. I'm getting back to the idea of writing . . . but not enough. Why am I so lethargic? Am I sick? Yeah, you start worrying about things like that when you get older. Normal aches and pains, normal when you younger, start taking on symptoms of something more serious like the dreaded (wait for it) CANCER! Yeah, I try NOT to worry about that too much, however, I am well aware that it is possible. So, the big plan is to start getting up in the mornings and . . .  WRITE, DAMN IT! Write anything, anywhere! Just friggin' WRITE! Coffee, nicotine gum, paper and pen (or computer). I haven't really written much lately using the ancient tools of our ancestors . . . pen and paper. Hell, I am as addicted to using the computer as I am to nicotine and caffeine. I'm a computer junky, I'm mainlining the internet, YouTube, Facebook, Wikipedia! Thank God I can't afford Netflix!

Sunday, May o4, 2o14



   Yes, May The 4th Be With You. I learned awhile back that there is a "holiday" for just about everything, and, yes, a holiday for every day of the year . . . Yep, pretty much. Most of these "holidays" are obscure and not actually "sanctioned" but who cares. Holidays are fun! And to think of each day as a holiday, a day for celebration . . . well, there are worse ways to live one's life. Some of my hardcore Star War fan friends are spending the day watching ALL the Star War movies. Some, less hardcore, are watching only their favorite SW movie. I myself . . . Well, I watched Jaws last night. I know, sacrilege. Although I do appreciate the Star Wars series . . . I only liked the first movie. I know, I'll burn in hell. However, I do  sincerely wish my SW friends a wonderful 4th Be With You Day!

   I was suppose to go do laundry today. I got up at 8:30, YES! I actually got up before

noon, and I had plan to go to the laundry, got all my dirty clothes (well, not all because I don't have a big enough bag to put them all in AND be able to carry it slung over my shoulder . . on my bicycle.), my laundry detergent, my Clorox, quarters already to go the night before . . . and then I just decided not to.  I know. I SHOULD do laundry . . . and clean the house . . . and shower more often. But I'm comfortable with my rather slovenly life style. Not sure I'm using the word "slovenly" right . . . but bad vocabulary works well with my way of living. The good thing is, as I said above, I got up at 8:30 in the morning! Now maybe I can get some order back in my life and do all those boring chores I need to do in order to be accepted into society.

Tuesday, May o6, 2o14

Yesterday, David and I went to see THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN which wasn't quite as amazing as the director and Sony Pictures probably wished it was going to be.

But then again, the box office take will be outrageous enough that they (probably) don't care if it's a good flick. I got friends who don't care. They're "happy" with the film! In fact, I got a bit chewed by one of my pals because I didn't like it. Yes, I'm a "hater." That's very true. I HATE movies that aren't good, that aren't well produced, movies directed by hacks who don't yet have the skills to direct a major motion picture. And the primary problem with this film is the director, and, of course, Sony Pictures, the company that HAD to get something out there (good or bad) because they were about to lose their lease on the franchise. Can't let a chance to make money go by. Hurry up! Throw SOMETHING out there!

   As grumpy as I sound I do like going to the movies. I like "planning' the outing to the Warren:
Me: Okay, David I'll wake you up at 9:30 am. That'll give you enough time to shower, drink

coffee.

David: What time you want me to pick you up?

Me: Hmm, well, the movie starts at 11 am. 10:30 should be good . . .

David: But what if it's crowed?

Me: On a Monday morning? No, there probably won't be anyone there but you and me.

   And I love haggling with the ticket girl: "Got any discounts for old people?" "No, sir. Only at night. But we do have a matinee discount, $7.50." "Yeah! Two at $7.50, please."

 Getting popcorn and a large ice tea is also fun, and going into the huge, dark auditorium, waiting for our eyes to adjust and meticulously picking our seats for optimum viewing pleasure. AND previews! Love to see what's coming up and discussing with my viewing partner which movie to come looks good, and which do NOT! It's all fun!
And it's particularly fun if the movie is really good. Not so much fun when it sucks. But even that has an enjoyment factor. At least I can bitch about how BAD it was and complain on Facebook and my blog about it! (smile)