Fwiw, this started to the tune of O'Tannenbaum, but devolved from there.
Unofficial Robert Day Song
Oh, Robert Day! Oh, Robert Day!
Oh, Let Us Count the Ways that We Love Robert Day!
He twitpics his kitty cats.
We get to wear our fancy hats.
He loves cartoons and a good storm.
He really hates the peacock swarm.
Oh, Robert Day! Oh, Robert Day!
Oh, Let Us Count the Ways that We Love Robert Day!
1, 2, 3, 4...infinity!
Let's celebrate with the Robert Day trinity!
Jager, vodka, and rum will do,
But you can throw in a 40 or 2.
He loves zombies, even the uppity.
@eddus would make him a cuppa tea.
Disney is the place to be,
But it's better in 3-D.
Oh, Robert Day! Oh, Robert Day!
You Must Swing The BanHammer™ on Robert Day!
Innuendo is all that you can say,
Cause that's the rule on Robert Day!
Oh rum, rum, rum, rum, rum, hey!
Let's drink some rum for Robert Day!
He'll tell you how to grow veggies and fruit,
And then how to pick, pickle or drink them to boot.
He'll tell you how to cook Devil Ducky and your eggs,
And in PS, fix your .jpgs.
O'HelperBot! O'HelperBot!
You always help us out a lot.
We're all broke and too far away
To properly celebrate this Robert Day.
But we can joke and drink to you,
And send an Lolcat or two.
It's the Least I Could Do
To sing this Robert Day song to you.
Oh Robert Day! Oh Robert Day!
Oh Let Us Count the Ways that We Love Robert Day!
Afternoons with lostinmiami going through Rayne.
A little sociopath to make us smile again.
FriendLEE banter or DrunkenLEE song.
All your Robert are to us belong.
Oh, Robert Day! Oh, Robert Day!
We sing Our Praises Be to Robert Day!
Friday, July 31, 2009
Monday, July 20, 2009
Tokens
So we're out in front of our house tonight. It's cool, considering it's late July in Texas. An older couple stops to talk to us and in the course of our conversation, the guy informs us, "We call you the tokens. Ha! Ha! We see you out and say "There are the tokens."
As in token white people. I find this to be pretty amusing. What else can you do?
We live on a kind-of-cul-de-sac and on nice nights there are usually more than 20 kids playing in front of our house. And the guy's right, my two little translucent monkeys are usually the only translucent monkeys, which is quite fine.
Then the wife says, "Wait, you're from Canada, right?" and I say, "No, those are the other white people," and point to my left, "They live at the other end of the street."
I'd say our neighborhood is a really nice mix of people from all over, particularly considering we're in the suburbs. In Texas. There are a lot of Malayalam families here and I know the kids and I are a source of amusement at parties. People always say, "Here, Eileen. Eat this!" and then watch me. I don't know if they're waiting for me to do something funny or what. The kids and I love Indian food and we're always happy to try all kinds of food. I do know to ask how hot the condiments are though. When my daughter was 2ish and we were at a party, she thought it was a blast to eat rice dishes with her hands just like all of the other ladies. We're lucky to live here. :-)
Oh, but this isn't the first time I'm the token. Where I volunteer, it's always kind of a joke that I'm the token straight person at any given project. So I guess I've arrived. Particularly for Texas. When do I get my t-shirt? Token Straight White Girl. Don't hold it against me. :-D
As in token white people. I find this to be pretty amusing. What else can you do?
We live on a kind-of-cul-de-sac and on nice nights there are usually more than 20 kids playing in front of our house. And the guy's right, my two little translucent monkeys are usually the only translucent monkeys, which is quite fine.
Then the wife says, "Wait, you're from Canada, right?" and I say, "No, those are the other white people," and point to my left, "They live at the other end of the street."
I'd say our neighborhood is a really nice mix of people from all over, particularly considering we're in the suburbs. In Texas. There are a lot of Malayalam families here and I know the kids and I are a source of amusement at parties. People always say, "Here, Eileen. Eat this!" and then watch me. I don't know if they're waiting for me to do something funny or what. The kids and I love Indian food and we're always happy to try all kinds of food. I do know to ask how hot the condiments are though. When my daughter was 2ish and we were at a party, she thought it was a blast to eat rice dishes with her hands just like all of the other ladies. We're lucky to live here. :-)
Oh, but this isn't the first time I'm the token. Where I volunteer, it's always kind of a joke that I'm the token straight person at any given project. So I guess I've arrived. Particularly for Texas. When do I get my t-shirt? Token Straight White Girl. Don't hold it against me. :-D
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Something crafted, to feed your soul
Most days you go without.
You can't find it
or you don't have the money
or you know where it is,
but it is beyond your reach.
But you know it's there. Somewhere.
Some days you can feel it, can almost taste it.
Others, it's just a name, a concept
of warm, distant perfection.
But some days you want
-not the thing that feeds your soul, well,
you always want the thing that feeds your soul-
but you want something.
Some. Thing.
Some days you want.
Even if it isn't good for you.
Even if it isn't what you want.
You want.
You want something warm and smooth,
that peculiar tasteless taste,
the look that catches your eye.
And so you give in,
To what you can have.
Instead of what you truly want.
What you know you need.
Until you have had enough
or maybe too much.
Not so much satisfied
as a completed transaction.
Even if it leaves you feeling unsatisfied
and just a little sick.
You want Cowgirl Creamery's Red Hawk,
a real baguette, and decent wine.
You have Velveeta and the remains
of a three dollar bottle of white Shiraz.
This was posted for the first virtual tweetup of #owmykidneys. You know, that fabulous salon on Twitter founded by @leewaters.
Most days you go without.
You can't find it
or you don't have the money
or you know where it is,
but it is beyond your reach.
But you know it's there. Somewhere.
Some days you can feel it, can almost taste it.
Others, it's just a name, a concept
of warm, distant perfection.
But some days you want
-not the thing that feeds your soul, well,
you always want the thing that feeds your soul-
but you want something.
Some. Thing.
Some days you want.
Even if it isn't good for you.
Even if it isn't what you want.
You want.
You want something warm and smooth,
that peculiar tasteless taste,
the look that catches your eye.
And so you give in,
To what you can have.
Instead of what you truly want.
What you know you need.
Until you have had enough
or maybe too much.
Not so much satisfied
as a completed transaction.
Even if it leaves you feeling unsatisfied
and just a little sick.
You want Cowgirl Creamery's Red Hawk,
a real baguette, and decent wine.
You have Velveeta and the remains
of a three dollar bottle of white Shiraz.
This was posted for the first virtual tweetup of #owmykidneys. You know, that fabulous salon on Twitter founded by @leewaters.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
My First Double Abecedarian or The Pattern is the Primary Point
Zucchini crossed with a pirate gets you a squashbuckler. Ha!
You've got to really pay attention here, are you listening, bub?
X may mark the spot, but the tables of contents are kept at tic toc.
Which do you choose? Pirate or Ninja? You'd better rock it and
videotape it. Somebody needs a laugh and that person is probably me.
Upload it to YouTube. Not everyone gets it, but that's okay. If
Tigger gets into a terrible tangle will he then zig instead of zag?
Someone, somewhere has written 25 things about it. When you sayeth
random things, you meant carefully contrived. Am I right or am I?
Quick! Play rock, paper, scissors, lizard, Spock with Sheldon and Raj.
Procrastination and Facebook go hand in hand, but poetry and Facebook
oil and water, competitive spirit, whimsy and ennui do not mix. Why will
no one join me in this clever nonsensical not-quite poetical game? Boredom,
my dear, apparently does know some bounds. Although John and John -
Linnell and Flansburgh - would go for this sort of thing. “Hello Radio”
“Kiss me, Son of God” I should have thought of TMBG titles at the top -
just my luck. I see the easy way out after I'm already mired in the quag. Q
is a bitch. I lied; it isn't really boredom or too much time on my computer or
hands. No, just bouts of too much brain followed by faulty autopilot's messes.
Gee, since no one asked, my best conversation ender is, “I just read the most
fascinating thing on rare lichens” on which I will probably write a series of haiku
even if no one reads it. I am nothing if not persistently inconsistent. Mazel tov,
Dear! You really hit the nail on the head, I'm still picking out splinters. How
come I googled it, but I still don't get it? Don't you dare put me in a box,
Baby! Unless there is a fully-stocked art deco bar along one side of the library,
and laptop with wifi so I can inhale some poetry/haiku/your comments for the buzz.
Gah! This thing always jacks up the formatting on my Abecedarians! >:-( (I had to make it smaller.)
p.s. I wrote this back in February. Did you get it? Alphabet runs up with first letter and down with last of each line. I came across the concept in Mike Dockins poem “Dead Critics Society”(in The Best American Poetry 2007.) (Who needs a theme when you have lots of random shoutouts?) For the record, it did occur to me to embed a haiku, but I had to write this relatively quickly, so I didn't. Hmmm, somehow I don't quite see this being the next gigantic Facebook craze...
zeugma – a figure of speech in which a verb or adjective is applied jointly to two nouns although logically appropriate to only one; e.g., We changed our minds and our clothes. (Hadn't heard of that until I was wandering around in Z for this, so I threw one in - in the “i......r” line.)
You've got to really pay attention here, are you listening, bub?
X may mark the spot, but the tables of contents are kept at tic toc.
Which do you choose? Pirate or Ninja? You'd better rock it and
videotape it. Somebody needs a laugh and that person is probably me.
Upload it to YouTube. Not everyone gets it, but that's okay. If
Tigger gets into a terrible tangle will he then zig instead of zag?
Someone, somewhere has written 25 things about it. When you sayeth
random things, you meant carefully contrived. Am I right or am I?
Quick! Play rock, paper, scissors, lizard, Spock with Sheldon and Raj.
Procrastination and Facebook go hand in hand, but poetry and Facebook
oil and water, competitive spirit, whimsy and ennui do not mix. Why will
no one join me in this clever nonsensical not-quite poetical game? Boredom,
my dear, apparently does know some bounds. Although John and John -
Linnell and Flansburgh - would go for this sort of thing. “Hello Radio”
“Kiss me, Son of God” I should have thought of TMBG titles at the top -
just my luck. I see the easy way out after I'm already mired in the quag. Q
is a bitch. I lied; it isn't really boredom or too much time on my computer or
hands. No, just bouts of too much brain followed by faulty autopilot's messes.
Gee, since no one asked, my best conversation ender is, “I just read the most
fascinating thing on rare lichens” on which I will probably write a series of haiku
even if no one reads it. I am nothing if not persistently inconsistent. Mazel tov,
Dear! You really hit the nail on the head, I'm still picking out splinters. How
come I googled it, but I still don't get it? Don't you dare put me in a box,
Baby! Unless there is a fully-stocked art deco bar along one side of the library,
and laptop with wifi so I can inhale some poetry/haiku/your comments for the buzz.
Gah! This thing always jacks up the formatting on my Abecedarians! >:-( (I had to make it smaller.)
p.s. I wrote this back in February. Did you get it? Alphabet runs up with first letter and down with last of each line. I came across the concept in Mike Dockins poem “Dead Critics Society”(in The Best American Poetry 2007.) (Who needs a theme when you have lots of random shoutouts?) For the record, it did occur to me to embed a haiku, but I had to write this relatively quickly, so I didn't. Hmmm, somehow I don't quite see this being the next gigantic Facebook craze...
zeugma – a figure of speech in which a verb or adjective is applied jointly to two nouns although logically appropriate to only one; e.g., We changed our minds and our clothes. (Hadn't heard of that until I was wandering around in Z for this, so I threw one in - in the “i......r” line.)
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
What Keeps My Head from Exploding -OR- My Week in Perverse Joy
So anyway, our neighborhood is pretty diverse. (OK, diverse for a Texas suburb.) Our neighbors insisted on taking us (my parents are visiting) out for Indian food. The same neighbor had insisted on taking us out last trip, but my Mother somehow hurt her back and wound up in bed for three days. Actually, she preferred being in bed for three days to eating Indian food. Because I am diabolical, I had made my parents eat Indian food one time in Indiana. She still holds a grudge. That may run in the family.
Anyway, in case you're not familiar with vintage Indiana farm cookingness...when Mom made "chili" it had no actual chili powder in it. It had home-canned tomatoes (so very yummy), chunks of hamburger, kidney beans, and...wait for it...macaroni!!! It was some kind of unchililike soup. (We also called green bell peppers "mangoes." I still have no idea why.) Spices? You are allowed to use the teeniest bit of black pepper as a spice, but that's it. Anything over 1/16 teaspoon in a large pot and you'll hear about it! (I've since started taking her to Penzey's. For once my foolish optimism has paid off.) So Mom was all "Hell-to-the-No!" on the Indian food.
Oi...this is where I always get sidetracked. What am I supposed to say? My parents are good people. Oh, but their intolerant streak drives me *&^%ing insane.
See, Mom had really pissed me off at the art museum last week. I'll just say she had a tantrum of intolerance. Nice. So anyway, it made me crazy, but then mid-fuming it occurs to me in a somewhat comedysketchesque fashion...you know, I can keep this in mind when I'm picking out your nursing home someday. Imagine a battle of wills with a toddler...but my mother. Me: "By God you WILL stop being intolerant someday!" Yeah, OK, so it's not that funny, but it may have kept my head from exploding. I've learned to appreciate the little moments of perverse joy that keep my head from going kaboom. So yeah, I came to think of Mom going out to dinner as her 'time out' for bad behavior. And I did appreciate knowing that Mom was dreading going out for dinner. I knew she'd have fun, and she did. Still, it was nice to know she was not happy about it for the days leading up to it.
Ah yes, perverse joy. I believe @leewaters brought that up first in regard to declining follow requests on Twitter. I said something about me finding perverse joy in tricking people into doing something good.
Again with the parents. I've tried writing about this before...but it never works out. I'll just say that this dates back to something that happened last year. I'm still beyond pissed at them. At some point this winter I went all "By God you will do something good whether you want to (or even realize it) or not!" I had already been volunteering at a place for a while when it occurred to me...you know, they would *really* hate this place (what with being intolerant #&^s and all). So every time they're in town, I make sure to enlist their help for the cause. Among other things, I've had them extend their travel plans more than once so they can keep the kids while I go to a project they wouldn't actually approve of. (I'm pathologically vague. It's quite a gift. They don't actually realize where I'm going.) So even in their inability to be decent...they're promoting goodness in the world. And my head is intact. That all points to WIN, right?
Shhh, don't say anything. Don't ruin my diabolical plot to turn intolerant #%&^s into helperbots for good. :-D (Yes, I have an expansion plan.) That, and who's going to clean up the mess if my head explodes?
Anyway, in case you're not familiar with vintage Indiana farm cookingness...when Mom made "chili" it had no actual chili powder in it. It had home-canned tomatoes (so very yummy), chunks of hamburger, kidney beans, and...wait for it...macaroni!!! It was some kind of unchililike soup. (We also called green bell peppers "mangoes." I still have no idea why.) Spices? You are allowed to use the teeniest bit of black pepper as a spice, but that's it. Anything over 1/16 teaspoon in a large pot and you'll hear about it! (I've since started taking her to Penzey's. For once my foolish optimism has paid off.) So Mom was all "Hell-to-the-No!" on the Indian food.
Oi...this is where I always get sidetracked. What am I supposed to say? My parents are good people. Oh, but their intolerant streak drives me *&^%ing insane.
See, Mom had really pissed me off at the art museum last week. I'll just say she had a tantrum of intolerance. Nice. So anyway, it made me crazy, but then mid-fuming it occurs to me in a somewhat comedysketchesque fashion...you know, I can keep this in mind when I'm picking out your nursing home someday. Imagine a battle of wills with a toddler...but my mother. Me: "By God you WILL stop being intolerant someday!" Yeah, OK, so it's not that funny, but it may have kept my head from exploding. I've learned to appreciate the little moments of perverse joy that keep my head from going kaboom. So yeah, I came to think of Mom going out to dinner as her 'time out' for bad behavior. And I did appreciate knowing that Mom was dreading going out for dinner. I knew she'd have fun, and she did. Still, it was nice to know she was not happy about it for the days leading up to it.
Ah yes, perverse joy. I believe @leewaters brought that up first in regard to declining follow requests on Twitter. I said something about me finding perverse joy in tricking people into doing something good.
Again with the parents. I've tried writing about this before...but it never works out. I'll just say that this dates back to something that happened last year. I'm still beyond pissed at them. At some point this winter I went all "By God you will do something good whether you want to (or even realize it) or not!" I had already been volunteering at a place for a while when it occurred to me...you know, they would *really* hate this place (what with being intolerant #&^s and all). So every time they're in town, I make sure to enlist their help for the cause. Among other things, I've had them extend their travel plans more than once so they can keep the kids while I go to a project they wouldn't actually approve of. (I'm pathologically vague. It's quite a gift. They don't actually realize where I'm going.) So even in their inability to be decent...they're promoting goodness in the world. And my head is intact. That all points to WIN, right?
Shhh, don't say anything. Don't ruin my diabolical plot to turn intolerant #%&^s into helperbots for good. :-D (Yes, I have an expansion plan.) That, and who's going to clean up the mess if my head explodes?
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Abecedarian on Love and Letters
A poem of only twenty lines?
Bam! There goes my abecedarian.
Can't you have some pity on the verbose?
Do unto others? Does that ring a bell?
Eventually justice will prevail. All deserve the chance to pursue the
full measure of their happiness – in words and in love.
Guess I'd better decide which letters to exclude.
How will poor Q feel? I bet he'll see it coming, “This is dodge ball all over again.”
Isn't there some way we can all get along?
Just think how you would feel to be officially excluded.
Kindness needs to come back into style. Hatred is so last century.
Love and letters are all around us – wanted or not. I am
married to this idea of equality! Gee-whiz!
Now is the time! What happens if you become an “other” someday?
Once they burned the “others,” then the books. Let's get out of this fundamentally-flawed box.
Pressure is mounting. This is due tomorrow.
Quick! Let's look at this in a new way. Wraparound?! Mazel tov!
Right, can't leave anyone out, not even unassuming U.
Somehow, we all need to find a way to fit.
Backstory: I wrote this back in February. I thought it was a little strange that I had turned two poems in the day BEFORE they were due. (You could turn in three poems up to 20 lines each for a library contest.) I should have known I'd wind up writing a third and final one at midnight the night before. I guess procrastination and smartass proved once again to be an irresistible combination for me. So I wrote this in like 35 minutes. (Someone was going through a short-lived double abecedarian phase.) Yeah, I know the formatting in blogspot screwed this up. None of the lines run over in the original. ;-)
I managed to hit equal marriage rights, burning at the stake, book burning, (I also had small pox blankets in there, but had to take it out because the line was too long) and a slam on the line limit all in 20 lines. Plus a little golden rule, playground angst, Mazel tov and a quote from Obama's inauguration address thrown in for fun. As with everything I do, it's okay if you don't particularly like it. I like enough for the both of us. :-D
Btw, if you're going to write an acrostic (and I'm sure you ALL will), make sure you have the freaking alphabet spelled right! And that you number the lines right...although since I don't know if the title is included in the limit, the inadvertent 19 turned out to be a good CYA, er, C-my-A.
Update: Gee, I can't believe the library poetry contest committee didn't go for this! (or the other two on Twitter and Brain Freeze.)
Monday, April 6, 2009
Vermonters on my mind
So tonight, I'm thinking about those other Vermonters who went against the wishes of their constituents. (You know, as opposed to the current veto-threatening governor so many would like to clock.) Of course it took some digging in my brain and on Google to get here. All I could remember was I had heard a story on NPR sometime during my 10+ years in Texas. It was about a Vermont teacher who voted for same sex unions even though he knew his constituents would kill him (well, not Texas-kill him, just you know, never vote for him. Again. Ever.) But he said he couldn't imagine facing his classroom full of kids and saying what? I could have done the right thing, but wanted to keep my job?
So anyway, here are some links to actual details.
http://www.nytimes.com/2000/04/20/us/vermont-senate-votes-for-gay-civil-unions.html
(article with State Senator Mark A. MacDonald who was the guy I vaguely remembered 9!?! years later.)
http://www.pbs.org/newshour/bb/law/gay_marriage/vermont.html
[At least read until you get to William Lippert. Makes me wanna clock the current governor upside the head with Rep. Allard ;-) ]
http://www.thecrimson.com/article.aspx?ref=100675
"Heroes of the Green Mountain State"
Anyway, just thought I'd take a stroll down memory lane (even if parts of it were for the first time). It's important to look back, even while you're looking forward, remembering those who made a difference then, even while you're looking to the ones you hope will make a difference now. [And yeah, maybe look now and then at the person standing in between the two, :-)] So here is hoping the legislators who voted against the marriage bill will make good on their promise to vote to override Douglas' veto out of principle.
Last Sunday at Church we sang "Standing on the Side of Love" in tribute to Iowa. I sure am hoping next Sunday we'll be singing to Vermont. :-)
So anyway, here are some links to actual details.
http://www.nytimes.com/2000/04/20/us/vermont-senate-votes-for-gay-civil-unions.html
(article with State Senator Mark A. MacDonald who was the guy I vaguely remembered 9!?! years later.)
http://www.pbs.org/newshour/bb/law/gay_marriage/vermont.html
[At least read until you get to William Lippert. Makes me wanna clock the current governor upside the head with Rep. Allard ;-) ]
http://www.thecrimson.com/article.aspx?ref=100675
"Heroes of the Green Mountain State"
Anyway, just thought I'd take a stroll down memory lane (even if parts of it were for the first time). It's important to look back, even while you're looking forward, remembering those who made a difference then, even while you're looking to the ones you hope will make a difference now. [And yeah, maybe look now and then at the person standing in between the two, :-)] So here is hoping the legislators who voted against the marriage bill will make good on their promise to vote to override Douglas' veto out of principle.
Last Sunday at Church we sang "Standing on the Side of Love" in tribute to Iowa. I sure am hoping next Sunday we'll be singing to Vermont. :-)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
