Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Please, Mr. Postman

Edward Hopper's "Summertime" (1943)

Our younger daughter spent most of 1994 in Colorado.  She was 28 years old.  She went to Colorado to learn more about life. She had been living with a boyfriend for several years and perhaps she wanted to gain some perspective on their relationship from a distance. I really don't know. 

She spent this past spring sorting through her notebooks and papers, getting ready to a move to northern Virginia with her husband (no, he is not the boyfriend of 1994) and two children. Being a creative soul, she likes to keep things that might prove useful in future collages or stories or who-knows-what. Sorting through her stuff, she found this card she received from me while she was in Colorado. It had a "pome" I wrote for her, inspired by the picture.

I imagined her waiting for a letter from "John", who was then living in Ocean City, on what we Marylanders call "the Eastern Shore." I call it a "pome" because it's kind of silly, with lame plays on words. She and her boyfriend were both fans of Lou Reed. I had to ask her who Lou Reed was and so she played me a recording. Forgive me, but I did not think the man could sing. 


Hope rising like the sun,
She waits by the morning door. 
Perhaps they will come today--
The long-awaited words 
From the Eastern Shore.

She waits
A long, long time,
A long, long longing time.
Perhaps he will come today,
Bringing the long-awaited words
From the Eastern Shore.

A letter not addressed to her,
But promised none the less.
A long, long letter
That she longs to read.
(Lou Reed would like
To read it, too,
But the promise was not
Made to him.)

Doubt stirs the curtains of her mind
Like the morning breeze.
Perhaps they will not come today,
Those long-awaited words,
And so hope dies of a day,
But it will rise again with tomorrow's sun. 


Saturday, June 13, 2015

STUMPHENGE: One Week to Go!

A tribe of elves has been at work on STUMPHENGE near our house in Laurel, MD. They are hauling massive wooden stumps on sledges over a great distance. No one knows why they have undertaken this monumental project, but their idea is to have it finished by the Summer Solstice, which is one week from tomorrow. Apparently, their project has something to do with seasons, crops and stuff.

Just one of the three workers' villages lying close to Stumphenge. 

Wednesday, June 3, 2015


I keep hearing about this guy named Step Ladder who is mixed up in the world soccer association mess.

Tuesday, May 19, 2015

Not American

Our daughter takes her dry-cleaning to a shop run by two very friendly Korean ladies in their sixties. They get right to the point, asking such questions as, “How come you not have two baby?”

They asked this question about three years ago, before Becky and her husband adopted a baby girl.  Their son, who would have been about four at the time, might have come in with her that day. Becky said, “I’m 47. I’m not going to have another baby.”

“You think you too old? You not too old. She (pointing to her co-worker) have baby when she 47, so still you can do.”

Becky mumbled something pleasantly non-commital and left.

The next time she went in, the lady said, “Her baby here today. You can see. She fine.”
She called the “baby”, who was in a back room of the shop, to come out. A pretty young woman of about 20 appeared.  She smiled, said hello and returned to the back room.

The lady said, “So now maybe you have baby.” Then she turned to her friend. “She not American,” she remarked.

Hearing this, Becky objected, “But I am American. What else could I be?”

“You not look American,” the shop keeper stated firmly. She turned to her friend. “She not look American you think?”

“Yes, not look American,” agreed the other.

“So what am I then?” asked Becky.

The two considered her for a moment. “Poleski,” said one. The other nodded in agreement.