The old year's about as gone as the old pope. The old one's gone, but there's a new one just as intractable and just as hairy-assed.
I had my tests today and though they found a thing or two to mention (such as a hiatus hernia), they don't conclude that what they found is related to my weight loss. Though I had upper and lower GI exams, they seem to have a middle one they hadn't ever mentioned before, a small bowel exam. Yet they don't do that test there (why not?), and so I am still hanging in the breeze for any useful info. I guess they can figure it out after I'm dead.
While I was waiting on the gurney and not yet sedated or medicated, I began to notice a dark thread or something visible in the top portion of my left eye. I tried to discount it then, but I still see it and I realize it's bound to be more problem for my vision. I haven't tried to see it in the mirror. I don't know if I'm seeing a blood vessel or what. Things don't get better, they get worse. Or so I fear.
Visions Of Johanna Lyrics
aint it just like the night to play tricks when you’re trying to be so quiet?
we sit here, stranded, though we all do our best to deny it
and Louise holds a handful of rain, tempting you to defy it
lights flicker from the opposite loft
in this room the heat pipes just cough
the country music station plays soft
but there’s nothing, really nothing to turn off
just Louise and her lover so entwined
and these visions of Johanna that conquer my mind
in the empty lot where the ladies play blind man’s bluff with the key chain
and the all-night girls they whisper of escapades out on the D train
we can hear the night watchman take his flahslight out,
and ask if its himself or them who should be insane
but Louise she’s allright, she‘s just near
she’s delicate, she seems like the mirror
but she just makes it all too concise and too clear
that Johanna’s not here
the ghost of electricity howls in the bones of her face
where these visions of johanna have now taken my place
little boy lost, he takes himself so seriously
he brags of his misery, he likes to live dangerously
and when bringing her name up he speaks of her farewell kiss to me
he’s sure got a lot of gall
to be so useless and all
muttering small talk at the wall
while I’m in the hall
how can I explain it’s so hard to get on
and these visions of Johanna they kept me up past the dawn
inside the musuems Infinity’s going up on trial
voices echo “this is what salvation must be like after awhile”
but Mona Lisa must have had the highway blues, you can tell by the way she smiles
see the primitive wallflower freeze
and the jellyfaced women all sneeze
hear the one with the moustache say, “jeez,
I can’t find my knees!”
jewels and binoculars hang from the head of the mule
but these visions of Johanna they make it all seem so cruel
the peddler now speaks to the countess who’s pretending to care for him
saying “name me somebody that’s not a parasite and I’ll go out and say a prayer for him.”
but like Louise always says, ”You can’t look at much can you as she herself
prepares for him
and Madonna she still has not showed
you see this empty cage now corrode
where her cape of the stage once had flowed
the fiddler he now steps to the road
he writes “everythings been returned which was owed”
on the back of a fish truck that loads
while my conscience explodes
the harmonicas play the skeleton keys in the rain
and these visions of Johanna are now all that remain.
If You Live
(lyrics by Mose Allison)
If you live your time will come
I say if you live your time will come
So child don't mess with that cotton sack
It will scratch your knees and bend your back
And if you live your time will come
If you live your day will come
If you live your day will come
So child don't play with those pots and pans
They will soon enough ruin your pretty hands
And if you live your time will come
If you live a day will come
If you live a day will come
When the sun will shine
And the crops will grow
And you think you're not gonna worry no more
But if you live, your time will come
Being without insurance, I am depressed and disoriented to find that the colonoscopy and the upper GI I'm scheduled for next week (29th) are going to cost about $3300 and that they want half up front. Everyone else I've dealt with up til now have dealt with me as more of a human being and didn't have this Fuck You for being uninsured attitude. So if these happy chipmunks discover something in their line of expertise that needs to be treated, I can only imagine the royal telephone pole up the ass it will be to try to pay for that.
I had again lost weight since last time at a doctor's, but only 3 lbs., so in a sense that was good news. Nonetheless, I feel more fatigued than ever.
It's still taking forever to get my retirement and disability filed, with fault or blame to go around to all parties, including myself. If I understood it, though, some portion of it will be retroactive, so that there may be one eventual fat period of catching up with the costs. Meanwhile I have no claims to feeling very well.
It is hard not to feel depressed.
Being sick just makes me bored and boring. There’s no two ways around it. Though my vision has improved some, I still wouldn’t trust myself to drive, so I’m pretty homebound! All my favors get used up being carted to various doctors’ appointments or going to Wal-Mart for medicines and other needs. Though I have as morbid an interest as anyone else in seeing the various forms of damage done by Hurricane Rita to buildings and the environment, I’ve still had little view of it all. Since I can only see what’s close to me on the very few routes that I travel, I’ve missed a great deal. By the time I’m able to drive and to see it all, I guess a good deal of it will have been repaired, replaced, or cleared away! Of course, that I’d want to see destruction is a little crazy, I guess. But I’d just like to see what is, like anyone else. Then again, I’ve never been one to want to go on elaborate visits to communities where Christmas decorations are rampant! Many people love that and go to extreme trouble to see the lights, but I guess I always felt I could adequately extrapolate from the decorations I’ve already seen what a LOT of decorations would look like. I guess I really should apply the same principles to the destruction as I do to the decorations. But whoever said that human beings have to make perfect sense?
I've babbled about weight loss, but never shown it. I find I'm having trouble remembering how to get pictures placed here without them disrupting the sidebar. If you find pictures here, showing first the old, then the new me, I succeeded. 
Benjamin Disraeli: "My idea of an agreeable person is a person who agrees with me."
I’ve been seeing all these medical practitioners at the doctor's office, but today for the first time saw the actual doctor. He seemed very nice, but I can’t say if he’s smarter than all the others or not. In any case, he certainly has more background and gravitas than the others and brings perhaps a new perspective. That can’t hurt. He seemed to agree that the UTMB denying my appointment for colonoscopy was rubber-stamp bullshit as much as I had suspected. I told him to proceed with lining up an appointment with the clinic in town and I’d deal with the costs. He also wanted to arrange for me to see a podiatrist for my feet—the neuropathy and the horrible toenails needing to be cut. I used to be able to cut them when I could see okay, but even I’d sometimes cut some flesh. Not a good idea these days because the neuropathy would likely prevent me from feeling it! He’s doing some lab work (blood and urine), took some chest x-rays, and took me off of one of the diabetic pills (Glipizide) to be sure I wouldn’t become hypoglycemic (get low blood sugar). Too bad I’d just bought a new bottle of them. So, we’ll see what happens. I was still losing weight today—down from 160 lbs. a few weeks ago to 153 lbs. That’s too much. I’d rather stay at 160, thank you. (Those of you who haven't kept track, be aware my normal fat man weight used to be 240 lbs.!)
Because most of my clothes and jackets are too large for me, I’ve had to get some new shirts, pants, etc. Today, I got a new black leather coat by Izod for $179 (half-price); it’s very fine. What I would call garment leather. Burnished lamb, the manufacturer calls it. Certainly the finest coat in my memory! More fun to caress than your favorite puppy! Possibly not more fun than your favorite sex organ. Depends on what fun you've had lately, I guess.
How I Hate Those Sons Of Bitches
I suppose that somewhere it has all already been said about caps on medicine bottles. Those awful “childproof” caps that in fact, for sick people, are burglar-proof. I can’t get in, either, when I’m sick! I only recently managed to remember to get mine changed over to—well, whatever you call them—maybe “irresponsible” caps! I find it a great deal easier to keep my medicines safely away from children than to keep my medicines securely locked up from me! I wonder what generation of irresponsible adults started all this fanfare? Are there homes still where adults can’t figure out where to hide things from short, weak, and relatively unimaginative children? I understand that kids are tenacious, but so far I’ve never known one to get even close to my medicines, much less get into them and eat the nasty things as if they were candy!
Okay, being a parent may be more difficult than I know, since I’m not one. But children do come around here. I always know the location of my medicines and my sharp lancets (for taking blood sugar readings) and the little “guards” from the end of the lancets that probably look like little candy pills to a baby! I don’t forget to keep track, dammit! Do you?
Hell if I know what people do or why. I think mainly they overdo all these “safety” procedures so that you won’t be able to sue the corporation that they work for due to your own inane misuse of the product. Meanwhile, I'm a little bit blind and a lot uncoordinated, and already taking Prozac for shitty nerves and stuff, and I don't need this hateful business from childproof caps!
Guest View
by JW
Some of the more avid readers of your Blog feel terrible about your illnesses. We hope you recover quickly and completely. We wish your Blog a speedy recovery as well. You were once a prolific writer, not without talent and inspiration, an inexhaustible author. Since then, your brain has been reduced to a bowl of mush. You have been transformed into a sniveling caricature of your former self. Seemingly, posting anything, just to have a daily entry. Some post have just a quote, or maybe some songs lyrics, someone else’s words. The last post does show promise though, “The survey”. Personally, I can’t wait for the miserable intellectual to return, the insightful pessimist to make a come back. I want to see the brilliantly composed and structured pieces we’ve all become spoiled to. I want the clever cynic who writes, sometimes witty, sometimes serious, but always interesting articles for his post. I desperately hope he is slowly making a come back.
Johnny's in the basement
Mixing up the medicine
I'm on the pavement
Thinking about the government
The man in the trench coat
Badge out, laid off
Says he's got a bad cough
Wants to get it paid off
Look out kid
It's somethin' you did
God knows when
But you're doin' it again
You better duck down the alley way
Lookin' for a new friend
The man in the coon-skin cap
In the big pen
Wants eleven dollar bills
You only got ten
Maggie comes fleet foot
Face full of black soot
Talkin' that the heat put
Plants in the bed but
The phone's tapped anyway
Maggie says that many say
They must bust in early May
Orders from the D. A.
Look out kid
Don't matter what you did
Walk on your tip toes
Don't try "No Doz"
Better stay away from those
That carry around a fire hose
Keep a clean nose
Watch the plain clothes
You don't need a weather man
To know which way the wind blows
Get sick, get well
Hang around a ink well
Ring bell, hard to tell
If anything is goin' to sell
Try hard, get barred
Get back, write braille
Get jailed, jump bail
Join the army, if you fail
Look out kid
You're gonna get hit
But users, cheaters
Six-time losers
Hang around the theaters
Girl by the whirlpool
Lookin' for a new fool
Don't follow leaders
Watch the parkin' meters
Ah get born, keep warm
Short pants, romance, learn to dance
Get dressed, get blessed
Try to be a success
Please her, please him, buy gifts
Don't steal, don't lift
Twenty years of schoolin'
And they put you on the day shift
Look out kid
They keep it all hid
Better jump down a manhole
Light yourself a candle
Don't wear sandals
Try to avoid the scandals
Don't wanna be a bum
You better chew gum
The pump don't work
'Cause the vandals took the handles
"Home computers are being called upon to perform many new functions, including the consumption of homework formerly eaten by the dog." Doug Larson
"Not only is the universe stranger than we imagine, it is stranger than we can imagine." Sir Arthur Eddington (1882 - 1944)
My eyesight improved a small bit yesterday and today, so I'm hopeful about this treatment. The doctor today seemed to think the eye had improved about 10%. To me, that's a lot. He will look at it again in December. If it does well, the other eye will be treated too. I almost don't know how to stop being worried about it, I'm so surprised! But it's not over yet.
We'll see. Or not.
I used to never be sick except for head colds or an occasional scratch or scrape on my skin. They weren’t much fun at the time, but I guess now they were “the good old days”. I remember I tried to pretend that the colds didn’t exist or that I didn’t have to modify my behavior for them. Even if I used up a ton of Kleenex boxes in the process, I’d just keep going. I’d drop the Kleenexes at my feet or throw them willy-nilly in the back seat of the car and just keep going. I was the Energizer Bunny with a snotty nose. I remember once when I had a cold I gave a ride to a young woman who was unaware of my habits. As we progressed on the errand, she became increasingly conscious of the hundreds of tissues in the car. When she realized how full the back seat floorboard was, she visibly shuddered. I’d never thought of it that way, but I guess she was right. I was repellent. I was embarrassed. While she ran her errand, I cleaned every tissue out of the car so that she wouldn’t have to see them on the return ride. I was a good boy that trip, but I didn’t exactly become a Neat Freak from then on. Years went by before I actually stopped being so nasty. I wasn’t that way all the time, but if I had a cold, I was. If I was sick, I didn’t give a damn.
It’s hard to fight against those old habits even now, but I do. I wash my clothes. I pick up behind myself. However, I don’t sort, stack, or fold too well. My laundry may or may not leave the laundry basket. Medicine bottles and other items are strewn across my dresser top as if they were empty beer bottles. I don’t actually collect such bottles or Coke cans any more, though. I guess I’m afraid of breeding roaches or ants. And, fortunately, cigarette butts don’t follow me every step of my way any more. I quit smoking ten years ago, but now is when I’ve begun to be really sick. I don't know if I'm paying for my sins late in life, but it's possible. It doesn’t make sense, but Life doesn’t have to make sense. Shit happens. That’s the popular phrase. I guess it’s fairly accurate.
I tried to sidestep or delay it, but then I talked to the medical practitioner and he has little doubt about sending me for gastrointerology tests and doing so however soon it can be done. I don't know if it's good or bad, but it's worrisome. It's more complication, yet maybe it's the way to find out what's wrong. It's too much illness at once, though. I was already worried about not seeing very well. I felt beat down enough just by that. I'm getting tired of thinking of nothing but feeling ill. Maybe the only way out of it is through it--but Christ, there's another damn saying i could live without.
Paul Dirac
"In science one tries to tell people, in such a way as to be understood by everyone, something that no one ever knew before. But in poetry, it's the exact opposite."
Went to the eye doctor today and he injected some chemical into my eye that's supposed to slowly help. It may be a couple of weeks or more to see an improvement, if then. So I don't know much. I can't see much either. It's on the verge of being depressing. Life's no fun when you never start to see better as the day wears on. Oh, well. I still see, but not with any clarity, far or near. Shitfire.
I. F. Stone
"If you live long enough, the venerability factor creeps in; first, you get accused of things you never did, and later, credited for virtues you never had."
Can’t Tell
There is no more evasive bastard in the universe
Than one’s self, I’m fairly certain of that,
And I expect it to remain so,
More of less, from now until the end,
If time has an end, which maybe it does not,
Can’t tell.
There is no more sticky business
or sneaky maneuver in the universe
Than one’s own, and if that’s all you can hope for
You’re doomed maybe to beat your own trumpet,
Haba whosit, stroke your own woody,
What’s the difference, you may ask
As long as it’s stiff,
Can’t tell that either
To anyone who may ask
Except yourself
And you’re sick of it..
I used to think The Magus author John Fowles was about the hippest human being on the planet. Looking back on it much later, after I was decades older, I still liked the book,but realized it was because I had been a young man reading a young man's book about a young man's take on the world. Reading along, I thought I was like the magus and was above the fray. I think I've been much more like the victim in the novel. I was and have remained that young man, being manipulated every which way. Watching machinations and illusions. Wish it was better. I am still a fool, I guess, and shouldn't even be much ashamed of it. But there it is. What can I do?
Sorry to hear your're dead, John, hope you had friends and all who will miss you.
The Future Is Bleak
Cut off my whiskers
And send me to hell,
I need a new roofer
and a new BJC ink cartridge
And my head examined!
Curdlemudgeon
A curmudgeon is someone who has removed
So much of what he considers "sappy" from his system
That he loses track of what first irritated him about people
And just "goes bad" himself.
Maybe we should be called "curdlemudgeons".
The dictionaries I've checked don't seem to know
The origin or etymology of the word,
So my “milk gone bad” guess is as good as any.
That’s my guess
And in a bad year
I can’t improve on that at all.
G. K. Chesterton
"Don't ever take a fence down until you know the reason it was put up."
When I get to the bottom I go back to the top of the slide
Where I stop and I turn and I go for a ride
Till I get to the bottom and I see you again.
Do you, don't you want me to love you
I'm coming down fast but I'm miles above you
Tell me tell me tell me come on tell me the answer
You may be a lover but you ain't no dancer.
Helter skelter helter skelter
Helter skelter.
Will you, won't you want me to make you
I'm coming down fast but don't let me break you
Tell me tell me tell me the answer
You may be a lover but you ain't no dancer.
Look out helter skelter helter skelter
Helter skelter
Look out, cause here she comes.
When I get to the bottom I go back to the top of the slide
And I stop and I turn and I go for a ride
And I get to the bottom and I see you again
Well do you, don't you want me to make you
I'm coming down fast but don't let me break you
Tell me tell me tell me the answer
You may be a lover but you ain't no dancer.
Look out helter skelter helter skelter
Helter skelter
Look out helter skelter
She's coming down fast
Yes she is
Yes she is.
James M. Barrie
"Nothing is really work unless you would rather be doing something else."
I don't know about you, but I'd rather be anything. Well, maybe you've been fucking Kelly Preston last week and have Alica Silverstone lined up for the weekend. It's vaguely possible. Ask Larry Jones, he knows the babes. Of course, I have a lot of fans who are "babes", but they're not here to fuck or refuse to fuck me, so no luck there. Nice girls, though. Onward through the fog. Damn fog.
God fucking shitass damn! I don't care. That's my mood and I'm sticking to it. Everybody nice has probably already left. I can't see well and I can't see why I should be pleasant about it.
Seems like all I think about is my blood sugar and my tree trash these days. Well, guilty as charged, I can’t help it. I’m not living any Hollywood life here lately. I don't even have cable TV! I'm living in the dark ages.
All this elaborate procedure for taking my blood sugar is wearing on me. I wash my face. I put 3 different drops in my eyes. I turn on all the overhead lights. I set a 2-bulb lamp on the table near me. Now can I see?!
But I am becoming more and more prepared. The glucose meter comes in its own soft case, capable of carrying the device, a few alcohol swabs, several lancets for puncturing the finger and getting blood drops, but not much else. I’ve taken now to carrying everything in a larger bag I used to use for shaving gear, etc. when travelling. It’s big enough to hold the magnifying glass, the empty used water bottle in which I dispose of the lancets and test strips. I don’t like to let those disposable items get out of my control for even one second since my sister’s grandbaby visits here and you know how curious babies are. The “guards” on the lancets look like little pills or candy and the lancets themselves are not plelasant things to encounter by accident, but probably look like toys to a baby boy. The “dop kit” bag also carries one spare “drum” of test strips so that I can reload without going to another room for supplies. Also a washcloth in case I need to fold it up to support the meter at the correct angle for making contact between the blood drop and the test strip. I am getting to where I am as prepared and well-supplied with paraphernalia as any junkie fixing to die ever was! It may not be fun, but boy am I prepared for it! I have all kinds of drops to clear my eyes for better vision during the “test”. Unfortunately, iit’s a tossup whether I see clearly or not; sometimes it works the first time and sometimes I miss the mark. If I screw up, that means I get to re-stab myself a time or two, maybe waste an expensive test strip. I’m too nervous for this shit, but it’s not an option at present.
Love You
I got your book Baseball Nights and DDT and flipped through it,
Thinking how many poems I’d seen before, were even familiar,
Thinking how familiar you are to me and how good that is
And so I did not even have to read too much or too hard
But just glanced through them, caressing the familiar,
Making appreciative noises at the sounds that sounded right,
Thinking how lucky I was with my bad eyes
Not to have to read all or every one right away
But could just hold the bold blue book cover to my heart
And sigh a few sighs of affection and be blindly loving for now
And not be as judgmental as I always am with my all-seeing
But just rest here in the combination of moments,
Aware of you, precious you, who could write from so many views,
So many far-flung moments, all true, so true,
My Darling Girl, always working to see more clearly.
Me, too, from this side of cataracts and tears.
rcs.
Dirty Hat Dave
There’s a worm in my brain that listens to reason,
But it can’t always be found.
There’s a pistol in my grip that isn’t always sound,
But I’m a sharp shooter when I can shoot at all..
Damn, I’m fucked up.
Get along, little doggie, and sing me a tune,
I’m tall in the saddle and short in the fall,
I’m black as my heartbeat and firm as that worm
And clean as that white hat you all think I have on.
Dill Ketchup, back in the seventies, was a friend of a friend. He was a hippie wearing a cowboy-hat and was otherwise known as The Admiral. He had an egotism more fetid and bloated than my own, or so it seemed—as fertile as you'd expect of someone so steeped in bullshit. Still, he was a very likeable guy. He had a sort of Sydney Greenstreet quality, partly slick and attractive, partly oily and repulsive. He always had a scam going; not so much that he was greedy, he was just eager to earn his living without working very hard. Some of his best friends fell out with him toward the end—about money, I think—and then I lost track of those friends, too, and a whole small world was lost to me.
I guess there’s 10 or 20 people like that, people whom I knew through mutual acquaintances and whom I really barely knew. It’s funny how one can miss, not only one’s good old friends and lovers who have vanished, but some of the colorful, outrageous, even disagreeable characters who were almost entirely incidental to our friendships.
One’s life fills up with memories both useful and useless.
Mickey Mantle
"If I knew I was going to live this long, I'd have taken better care of myself."
Robert Byrne
"Getting caught is the mother of invention."
Tanner thought about what she'd said about him for a second and, as was often the case, couldn't decide what she meant. It might have sounded like a straightforward compliment from anyone else, but she always seemed to have her tongue in cheek, and that wry tone of hers always made him uncomfortable.
He sensed her intelligence and was thrilled by it, but he was always afraid that she might be intelligent enough to see right through him. He had always liked her and even liked for her to be wry, but she still made him nervous. These days, he was not used to anyone around him being intelligent or feisty, much less both.
What was that she'd said about a chuckle? Or did she say cuckold? It didn’t really relate to their situation. He'd just been diagnosed with a new illness and found that not everything made sense anymore. Maybe things would get better later.
H. L. Mencken
"Conscience is the inner voice that warns us somebody may be looking."
I cannot seem to say to you
How bright and pretty you are;
I feel like some old workshoe
Out of place at a festive dance.
I seem to always see myself as marred—
Some awkward, dark-stained, bended thing
Beneath a grievous cloud…
Why must this be so hard?
Were I all that men aspire to be
And something more beside,
Still I could not tell you all you are
Or make your moving spirit
Stand still upon the page.
Carol, kind heart, you are so dear,
But nothing near, nor will be;
Soon you will be gone
And this, all this will be in vain.
(Most vain in me is the notion
That you could care for me.)
rcs.
4th draft: 09/08/05
©1986 Ronald C. Southern
lyrics by The Beatles
When I find myself in times of trouble
Mother mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
And in my hour of darkness
She is standing right in front of me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
Let it be, let it be.
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.
And when the broken hearted people
Living in the world agree,
There will be an answer, let it be.
For though they may be parted there is
Still a chance that they will see
There will be an answer, let it be.
Let it be, let it be. yeah
There will be an answer, let it be.
And when the night is cloudy,
There is still a light that shines on me,
Shine on until tomorrow, let it be.
I wake up to the sound of music
Mother mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
Let it be, let it be.
There will be an answer, let it be.
Let it be, let it be,
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.
John Kenneth Galbraith
"Under capitalism, man exploits man. Under communism, it's just the opposite."
Doris Day
"The really frightening thing about middle age is that you know you'll grow out of it."
Will Rogers
"We don't know what we want, but we are ready to bite somebody to get it."
"Whatever you do will be insignificant, but it is very important that you do it." Mahatma Gandhi
"Either I've been missing something or nothing has been going on." — Karen Elizabeth Gordon
"Nothing is impossible for the man who doesn't have to do it himself." — A. H. Weiler
"Middle age is when you've met so many people that every new person you meet reminds you of someone else." — Ogden Nash
SUCH SINGING IN THE WILD BRANCHES
It was spring
and finally I heard him
among the first leaves -
then I saw him clutching the limb
in an island of shade
with his red-brown feathers
all trim and neat for the new year.
First, I stood still
and thought of nothing.
Then I began to listen.
Then I was filled with gladness -
and that's when it happened,
when I seemed to float,
to be, myself, a wing or a tree -
and I began to understand
what the bird was saying,
and the sands in the glass
stopped
for a pure white moment
while gravity sprinkled upward
like rain, rising,
and in fact
it became difficult to tell just what it was that was singing -
it was the thrush for sure, but it seemed
not a single thrush, but himself, and all his brothers,
and also the trees around them,
as well as the gliding, long-tailed clouds
in the perfectly blue sky - all, all of them
were singing.
And, of course, yes, so it seemed,
so was I.
Such soft and solemn and perfect music doesn't last
for more than a few moments.
It's one of those magical places wise people
like to talk about.
One of the things they say about it, that is true,
is that, once you've been there,
you're there forever.
Listen, everyone has a chance.
Is it spring, is it morning?
Are there trees near you,
and does your own soul need comforting?
Quick, then - open the door and fly on your heavy feet; the song
may already be drifting away.
With a Little Help from My Friends
A little help from my friends
What would you think if I sang out of tune,
Would you stand up and walk out on me.
Lend me your ears and I’ll sing you a song,
And I’ll try not to sing out of key.
I get by with a little help from my friends,
I get high with a little help from my friends,
Going to try with a little help from my friends.
What do I do when my love is away.
(does it worry you to be alone)
How do I feel by the end of the day
(are you sad because you’re on your own)
No I get by with a little help from my friends,
Do you need anybody,
I need somebody to love.
Could it be anybody
I want somebody to love.
Would you believe in a love at first sight,
Yes I’m certain that it happens all the time.
What do you see when you turn out the light,
I can’t tell you, but I know it’s mine.
Oh I get by with a little help from my friends,
Do you need anybody,
I just need someone to love,
Could it be anybody,
I want somebody to love.
I get by with a little help from my friends,
Yes I get by with a little help from my friends,
With a little help from my friends.
by the Rolling Stones
I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
I see a line of cars and they’re all painted black
With flowers and my love both never to come back
I see people turn their heads and quickly look away
Like a new born baby it just happens ev’ry day
I look inside myself and see my heart is black
I see my red door and it has been painted black
Maybe then I’ll fade away and not have to face the facts
It’s not easy facin’ up when your whole world is black
No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue
I could not foresee this thing happening to you
If I look hard enough into the settin’ sun
My love will laugh with me before the mornin’ comes
I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
Hmm, hmm, hmm,...
I wanna see it painted, painted black
Black as night, black as coal
I wanna see the sun blotted out from the sky
I wanna see it painted, painted, painted, painted black
Yeah!
The Car Cleanup
You’ve heard me mention my cousin JW, who lives near me. He and I are cousins on my mother’s side. He has another cousin on his mother’s side called JP. Back when we were in high school, JP and I sometimes worked at our uncle’s (JW’s dad) service station, though usually not at the same time—the station wasn’t that busy. But because of that connection, an opportunity came along to work together at a gas station which the franchisee had abandoned but which the company wanted to keep open. I don’t remember why. We ran the place without adult supervision and JP handled the books.
I do remember, though, that two guys came in and dropped off a car to be cleaned up. JP made a deal to wash and deodorize the puked-in car for about three times the regular price. He didn’t charge enough, though. That son of a bitch car had to be deodorized first just to be able to approach it and start cleaning. We sluiced and scrubbed and wiped 2 or 3 times, then deodorized again. Yes, we did use mops and a high-pressure water hose to the extent that it was feasible, but eventually we had to climb into the car. As far as I’m concerned, we wuz robbed and mistreated!
I never could imagine why the two guys had barfed in their nice car and rolled around in it to that extent. Why hadn’t they rolled out in the dirt instead of soaking the carpet and upholstery? You don’t have to clean up dirt—at any rate, nothing a shovel couldn’t handle, as if you were burying the dead. They left the car with us for half a day, and that’s about how long it took the two of us to clean it, in between the regular business of the gas station. The twenty bucks or so we got at the time was a lot, but not nearly enough! Be careful what you agree to, there may be a lot more vomit than you know.
Rednecks
Last night I saw Lester Maddox on a TV show
With some smart-ass New York Jew
And the Jew laughed at Lester Maddox
And the audience laughed at Lester Maddox too
Well, he may be a fool but he's our fool
If they think they're better than him they're wrong
So I went to the park and I took some paper along
And that's where I made this song
We talk real funny down here
We drink too much and we laugh too loud
We're too dumb to make it in no Northern town
And we're keepin' the niggers down
We got no-necked oilmen from Texas
And good ol' boys from Tennessee
And college men from LSU
Went in dumb - come out dumb too
Hustlin' 'round Atlanta in their alligator shoes
Gettin' drunk every weekend at the barbecues
And they're keepin' the niggers down
We're rednecks, rednecks
And we don't know our ass from a hole in the ground
We're rednecks, we're rednecks
And we're keeping the niggers down
Now your northern nigger's a Negro
You see he's got his dignity
Down here we're too ignorant to realize
That the North has set the nigger free
Yes he's free to be put in a cage
In Harlem in New York City
And he's free to be put in a cage in the South-Side of Chicago
And the West-Side
And he's free to be put in a cage in Hough in Cleveland
And he's free to be put in a cage in East St. Louis
And he's free to be put in a cage in Fillmore in San Francisco
And he's free to be put in a cage in Roxbury in Boston
They're gatherin' 'em up from miles around
Keepin' the niggers down
We're rednecks, we're rednecks
We don't know our ass from a hole in the ground
We're rednecks, we're rednecks
And we're keeping the niggers down
We are keeping the niggers down
"There is no passion in the world greater than the passion to alter someone else's draft." — H.G. Wells
"The passion for setting people right is in itself an afflictive disease." — Marianne Moore, American Poet
Guilty
Yes, baby, I been drinkin'
And I shouldn't come by I know
But I found myself in trouble, darlin'
And I had nowhere else to go
Got some whisky from the barman
Got some cocaine from a friend
I just had to keep on movin'
Til I was back in your arms again
I'm guilty, baby I'm guilty
And I'll be guilty all the rest of my life
How come I never do what I'm supposed to do
How come nothin' that I try to do ever turns out right?
You know, you know how it is with me baby
You know, you know I just can't stand myself
And it takes a whole lot of medicine
For me to pretend that I'm somebody else.
[From the Randy Newman album, "Good Old Boys".]
Cassie And Kathryn In The Bedroom
I heard the women say, “I love you,” as they disappeared into the master bedroom, and, after that, repeatedly, if only in imagination, I heard the sound of soft wet kisses. They weren’t too far away, just a door or two away while I took a bath and meditated—I was hip, but I wasn’t normally this hip. Jesus, how hip was I supposed to be under these circumstances? I wasn’t certain.
I was being a “nice guy”, I thought, while I tried not paying them any mind. But when the bath water wasn’t running it was hard to ignore them, hard to pretend. I heard just enough; their laughter as they opened and shut the closet door made me wince. I had no excuse for acting jealous; Cassie was just an old friend by now. Well, but of course it was jealousy; it just wasn’t sexual.
Her husband was playing basketball somewhere until two, I was told. A proper fool, but no worse than me, an unwilling witness and co-conspirator. I knew what they planned to do. They wanted to touch, as we all do. They hadn't been able to spend any time alone together. Cassie's in-laws had been in town all last week, and now I was in the way this week, So I had to hold my water, dawdle in the tub, mislead myself, and let them play as they will. When it was over, I blocked it all out, though I knew it was factually true. I remember it as if it had importance, though hundreds of things have since happened to Cassie and to me. The past should be buried deep, but it isn’t always…
"Good breeding consists of concealing how much we think of ourselves and how little we think of the other person." — Mark Twain
"If you want to know what God thinks of money, just look at the people he gave it to." — Dorothy Parker (1893 - 1967)
"When I gave food to the poor, they called me a saint. When I asked why the poor were hungry, they called me a communist." — Dom Helder Camara, Brazilian Bishop, Nobel Peace Prize nominee
About prostitutes: "...The Lord is not here to tot up unfortunate sisters’ sins. They are the victims. We churchmen frequently make too much of women's sins and sexual sins in general as if sexual sins were graver than sins against compassion. Good Heavens!" — Dom Helder Camara
"Now and then an innocent man is sent to the legislature." — Kin Hubbard
1. blue jay
2. bluebird, eastern
3. cardinal
4. catbird, gray
5. chickadee
6. crow
7. flicker
8. grackle
9. hummingbird
10. mockingbird
11. robin
12. sparrow, house
13. titmouse
14. vulture, turkey
15. woodpecker, downy
16. woodpecker, pileated
17. woodpecker, red-bellied
18. wren, Carolina
Remarks:
The fact that I never go to the beach or pass through a town near the beach should explain to you much of the lack of variety in my list. I could, but I don't. I've also become a very lazy birdwatcher; I'm sure some good ones nest in my trees at times that I'm too comfortable in the air-conditioning to see anything!
"I have long been of the opinion that if work were such a splendid thing the rich would have kept more of it for themselves." — Bruce Grocott
In The Dark
Now you've traveled along alone so far,
No heartfelt human voice to hear except your own
Or else some dim recall caught briefly on the march
Where some spoke soft and some with starch,
Forestalling for a time this dogged trouble with your heart.
The cops, the doctors, must have known or sensed
Some awful bloody offness in the memories you've made
Of voices that cry behind you in past tense
Or whisper faintly from inside—
How must they have despised all that your speech must hide!
You speak to no one in the end,
Hearing women's voices weakly in your head
That used to spark the hardness even of your self-brazed heart.
You've traveled alone a long time now and far,
No semblance of a voice beside you in the dark,
Unless you count the chaos, and the chaos seldom counts.
Count the stars instead, so far away, apart,
And what a long way now would it not go
Toward being home at last
If only someone in the dark had said—but what? Said what?
Time is so far along and all except your art is at heart's end
At last, where all that human voices ever said is soon forgot.
rcs.
8th draft: 09/27/04
©2001 Ronald C. Southern
My Last Duchess
Ferrara
That's my last Duchess painted on the wall,
Looking as if she were alive. I call
That piece a wonder, now: Frà Pandolf's hands
Worked busily a day, and there she stands.
Will't please you sit and look at her? I said
"Frà Pandolf" by design, for never read
Strangers like you that pictured countenance,
The depth and passion of its earnest glance,
But to myself they turned (since none puts by
The curtain I have drawn for you, but I)
And seemed as they would ask me, if they durst,
How such a glance came there; so, not the first
Are you to turn and ask thus. Sir, 'twas not
Her husband's presence only, called that spot
Of joy into the Duchess' cheek: perhaps
Frà Pandolf chanced to say "Her mantle laps
Over my Lady's wrist too much," or "Paint
Must never hope to reproduce the faint
Half-flush that dies along her throat": such stuff
Was courtesy, she thought, and cause enough
For calling up that spot of joy. She had
A heart — how shall I say? — too soon made glad,
Too easily impressed; she liked whate'er
She looked on, and her looks went everywhere.
Sir, 'twas all one! My favour at her breast,
The dropping of the daylight in the West,
The bough of cherries some officious fool
Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule
She rode with round the terrace — all and each
Would draw from her alike the approving speech,
Or blush, at least. She thanked men, — good! but thanked
Somehow — I know not how — as if she ranked
My gift of a nine-hundred-years-old name
With anybody's gift. Who'd stoop to blame
This sort of trifling? Even had you skill
In speech — (which I have not) — to make your will
Quite clear to such an one, and say, "Just this
Or that in you disgusts me; here you miss,
Or there exceed the mark" — and if she let
Herself be lessoned so, nor plainly set
Her wits to yours, forsooth, and made excuse,
—E'en then would be some stooping, and I choose
Never to stoop. Oh sir, she smiled, no doubt,
Whene'er I passed her; but who passed without
Much the same smile? This grew; I gave commands;
Then all smiles stopped together. There she stands
As if alive. Will't please you rise? We'll meet
The company below, then. I repeat,
The Count your master's known munificence
Is ample warrant that no just pretence
Of mine for dowry will be disallowed;
Though his fair daughter's self, as I avowed
At starting, is my object. Nay, we'll go
Together down, sir. Notice Neptune, though,
Taming a sea-horse, thought a rarity,
Which Claus of Innsbruck cast in bronze for me!
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DEAR SIDEBAR JUNKIES: Have I been eccentric enough lately? Lord knows I try. I'd hate to be accused of being too kind. |
