'Twas the Night Before Voting........

 Note to self:  Please check the length of a poem before you decide to write a parody based on its format!

'Twas the night before voting, when all through the states

All the hopefuls were pacing, awaiting their fates;

The GOP's chosen Mitt Romney to run,

And he picked Paul Ryan to join in the fun;

The elephants had their convictions so strong,

And blasted the donkeys on just what was wrong;

Obama with his triumphs, Michelle's healthy plan,

They went on the trail to get votes for the man,

The Dems want some more of Barack H. Obama,

And Joe Biden, Junior, 'tis writ with a comma.

Away to the TV I flew like a flash,

Just hoping to hear a Republican splash.

The Romney clan said the economy blows, 

Gave nays to all the incumbent's term lows,

Then right after that, 'twas that the Dems, filled my set,

To say on the air that Mitt Romney's all wet 

With the media driving, the airwaves are quick,

With ads slamming both, and it all makes me sick.

Been voting for years, yep, since seventy-six,

And these put down commercials, they never will nix;

"Cite Reagan! and Truman! and Agnew and Nixon!

On Clinton! on Carter! on Bushes, ne'er fixin'!

To the top of the North! to the tip of Key West!

"Now put 'em down! shove 'em down! 'cause I am the best"

As I leave home for errands, and need food to buy

I am met with an obstacle, costs to the sky,

And onto the houses, some old and some new,

Some signs of foreclosure; abandonment too.

And then, in an instant, I heard on the news

The point-counter point of the Medicare blues.

As I rested my head, and my brain was too tense,

I heard the two argue the cost of defense

They dress to the nines,  boast impressive displays,

And talk about women, and seniors, and gays;

A stint on Dave Lettermen, and one on The View,

I'm guessing they had nothing better to do.

Their eyes -- how they twinkled! Their dimples how merry!

Reminiscent of Palin, McCain, and John Kerry!

As most seekers do,  some do bad, some do well,

Each hopes to be seen, and to grace SNL;

Do you think that Barack is the more perfect fit?

Or should more votes be for Paul Ryan and Mitt;

Most times I'm a smart, and controlled little fellow,

Still, I'll shake when I vote like a bowlful of Jello.

"I'm up on the issues," this old Blogger boasts

I saw them en masse on my Facebook friends' posts;

I'm bothered by conscience and thoughts in my head,

Is either as good or as bad as they said?

The media man, too much news is his work,

Makes us ask if our guy is a saint or a jerk.

So how do I choose just which man is the best? 

And get months of keeping it in off my chest? 

I'll pray for our people, and end this epistle. 

I'll spring to the polls, to my truth give a whistle, 

While I hear from Barack and from Mitt on that night, 

"Happy Choosing to all, oh, and thanks for the fight."

A Factual Fable: By Me

     It wasn’t a very good morning.  It all started with the coffee.  I have been making the coffee every morning for almost thirty years, and the measuring has been the same for all of them:  six measures of coffee and twelve cups of water.  Today I couldn’t scoop out six measures of coffee without getting distracted and having to start over.......and that was just the beginning!

     I left the house at the usual time to go to work.  As I was about to enter my car, I noticed that some neighbors had put their recycling on the curb for pickup.  I wondered why the pickup was going to be on Tuesday morning this week instead of Wednesday.  Then I remembered that, although this was indeed the second workday of the week, It was Wednesday, not Tuesday, and the recycling needed to be put out.  Darn those Monday holidays!

     So I put my lunch bag and water jug on the roof of the car, grabbed the keys out of my pocket, unlocked the car door and placed all (or so I thought) of my belongings in the car and proceeded to do my Wednesday morning duty.  After the deed was done, I got in the car and was on my merry way.  I noticed a contractor’s van on the corner of Sixth and Limestone Streets with two people in it.  I made a left at that intersection and decided it was time for a sip of water from my jug.  When I went to grab it from its usual home in the cup holder, it was gone.  My lunch bag was where it was supposed to be, but the jug was definitely missing.  Oh well, I thought, I can always buy a bottle of water at school.

     Then it occurred to me that I usually put my stuff in my car and then lock the house from the outside, so with the recycling debacle, I was sure that I had forgotten to lock the house at all.  That settled it…I needed to turn around, go home and check the house and, as long as I was home, find my water jug.   

     On my way home, I passed a coworker, and I knew that I would be asked about my traveling toward home when I should have been going toward the school.  When I got home, I discovered that the house was unlocked, so I went in and looked for the water, but it was nowhere to be found.  I locked the door, perused the front porch for the jug, and disappointedly set out on my second attempt at getting to work.

     I drove two blocks when I noticed something in the street on the corner of Sixth and Bridge Streets.  It was my green jug of water!  I stopped, got out of my car, picked it up, and hoped beyond hope that no one was watching.  Of course, within seconds, that contractor’s van passed and its two occupants waved and smiled and I waved and smiled back, albeit with a red face.

     Of course, when I got to work, my coworker’s first words were, “What were you rushing home about?”  As usual, my story made for great morning fodder in the office.    The morals of this story are:

1.  Drive safely.  I do.  In fact, I drove two blocks this morning with a jug of water on my roof!

2.  Remember to recycle.  An overflowing recycling receptacle is ugly, unsanitary, and annoying.  By the time I get home, my recycling bin will be as empty as my brain is becoming, and I’ll be content.

3.  Remember to smile.  "A smile is a curve that sets everything straight." ~Phyllis Diller~ …and if one person can smile at my antics, maybe it won’t be such a bad day after all.

Do You Remember Where You Were and What You Were Doing When.......?

I read on the Internet that exactly fifteen years ago this week, Princess Diana died in a tragic car accident.  I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when the news was first broadcast.  I was lying in bed at around 11:35 that Saturday night in August of 1997, and attempting to stay awake to watch some of Saturday Night Live.  I recall opening my eyes after a brief snooze to that dreaded 'Breaking News' screen, and it was announced that Diana had died.  I thought to myself, The writers on SNL have really stooped to a new low!  Sadly, of course, the episode of SNL had been preempted for continuous coverage of the unthinkable event.  I remember that we had to buy a new refrigerator that week, and that it would be delivered the following day, even though it was Sunday.  To this day, the refrigerator, which we still use, is the Diana refrigerator, in her honor.  Silly?  Nah....it's the little things.......

Isn't it funny how we can remember precisely our whereabouts and what our situation was when a historical event in history occured in our lifetime?

When the great Neil Armstrong, who passed away this week, made his historical statement, One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind, I was sitting in my family's den.  The fabulous first steps on the moon were in July of 1969.  We watched the unparalleled Walter Cronkite glow with pride as he moderated the event.  I also remember it being a time of great worry and panic for me.  My mother was in the hospital having surgery.  At the time, I was a twelve year old boy and feared that she would die.  In those days, children under a certain age, probably fourteen, weren't permitted in hospitals as visitors.  I guess that either:

         (a) I wasn't a good listener as they explained the details of the surgery, or
         (b) It was not common to share details of serious women's surgery to the youngest in the family, or     
         (c) I just didn't know what the situation was and in those days, I never thought to ask. 

As I grew older, Mom would talk about that phase of our lives more freely, and I think it was a combination of all of the above that added to my angst and confusion.  

Isn't it ironic how a news story can trigger a slew of memories, bringing to the surface details not thought about in forty years? 

As we approach another presidential election, and endure grueling National Conventions from the major parties, I remember two events involving presidents that shut the world down, at least temporarily.  In 1963, when I was seven years old and a first grader in a Catholic school, an announcement came from Mother Mary Rita on the loud speaker that President Kennedy had been shot and killed in Dallas and that school would close.  It was the first time I saw a nun or teacher show human emotions other than anger or frustration in that classroom with 90+ kids.  We were united in sadness.  I remember my sister Stephanie and me walking home from school and finding Mom already watching the black and white telecast of reactions from a stunned and shaken Walter Cronkite, and being forever disillusioned and weakened by blurry black-and-white footage of the crying men and women all over the country.

The second event to shut the world down for a day in my lifetime was the attacks on our country on September 11th, 2001 during the George W. Bush presidency.  I was working in the same building and the same room as I do now, and watching a training video for a phonics and linguistics program the school was using for the students when the assistant principal entered the room in tears and made the announcement.  There were no students in the room at the time.  I remember the approach being a little different than the one used some forty years earlier when President Kennedy was assassinated.  This day, the students were not informed of the tragedy, school stayed in session, adults scurried to phone loved ones, and attempted to resume their training and teaching to limited avail.  When I got home, I watched clear graphic images of the mayhem and knew that my world and THE world were forever changed.

Isn't it disturbing how we remember exactly where we were and what we were doing when we learned of national and worldwide tragedies?

I can place an event in history with each of my children's first years, too.  A sturdy wooden rocking chair with arms of perfect height on which to rest a baby's head is the constant as I equate each era with it's major news story.  In May of 1985, Kevin, the oldest, came along just as the situation in the MOVE compound in Philadelphia escalated.  During his first months, Jackie and I watched in horror as a whole block of city homes not far from where she was raised was bombed and burned.  In January of 1986, Kevin was still an infant when seven astronauts died as the Space Shuttle Challenger exploded shortly after liftoff.  The news was a little  lighter in content when John, the second child, rested on my arm, as the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame honored its first woman, Aretha Franklin, as an inductee.  Still controversy loomed with President Reagan's involvement in the Iran Contra Affair raising tempers.  As the third child, Karen, took over the chair in February of 1989, we reminisced with reruns of I Love Lucy after Lucille Ball passed away in April of that year.  Last but never least, Brian burst onto the scene in 1994, and relaxed in the chair as O.J. Simpson led police on a California highway chase as he was being accused of and charged with the brutal murder of his wife.

Doesn't it lead to a therapeutic and interesting discussion when we chat about our memories of when history was written?  Do you remember where you were and what you were doing when..........?