posted by Lane Savant at 11:36 PM
Thank you, thank you forrespecting the Savant traditionof the cute kiss off before youdo one of your trips; this onebeing a train trip, wow!The train ride will take more thantwo days to reach the east coast,right? So it will be like 5 days used up coming and going. By theway, you never did let us knowwhich route you are taking eitherdirection. Then I guess you willspend "several" days doing theSmithsonian. So, you must havehotel reservations right therein D.C. within walking distanceof the museum? Melva tells methat there are local trains andsubways all over the place, soI guess you will travel withouthaving to rent a car.I have made reservations at theTacoma Melting Pot restaurantfor our anniversary dinner onApril 3rd. I guess you will beback by then? We still haveto do our taxes, and that littlechore will be done next week.Melva is afraid that this yearwe will have to pay Uncle Fedsome bucks. We'll see.The Mac lap top that I boughtfor Melva is hidden in one ofthe downstairs closets. HopeMelva does not see the invoiceor the Visa charges beforeApril 3. She probably will,since she does all our finances.But I always try to surprise her regardless, and sometimesI get away with it. Big doinshere at the office, but sinceI am so very much out of theloop these days, it does notstress me as much as it wouldhave otherwise. Very respectfulway to wind down one's 53years of being a wage slave.I am less bitter already.Hope you get to some Wificafe there in the D.C. andgive us some update postingsalong the way, or not.It gives you great cyberfodder for several postingswhen you return, enit?
I think M. has booked us into a hotel or something in Alexandria.It's possible that we're taking the Empire builder. Through the Rockies at night. And Montana, Dakota, etc. during the day.4 days each way, I think, she's the one who planned all this so I'll find out, I suppose.Sooner or later.M has us traveling by subway when we're there.She has memorized the map of the routes and all the area for miles around.I shall be at her mercy as per usual.
I am now working withBilly Collins poetry over onFFTR now. He wrote a poem that should tickle Doug.Here it is:Taking Off Emily Dickinson's Clothes First, her tippet made of tulle, easily lifted off her shoulders and laid on the back of a wooden chair. And her bonnet, the bow undone with a light forward pull. Then the long white dress, a more complicated matter with mother-of-pearlbuttons down the back, so tiny and numerous that it takes foreverbefore my hands can part the fabric, like a swimmer's dividing water, and slip inside. You will want to know that she was standingby an open window in an upstairs bedroom, motionless, a little wide-eyed, looking out at the orchard below, the white dress puddled at her feeton the wide-board, hardwood floor. The complexity of women's undergarmentsin nineteenth-century Americais not to be waved off, and I proceeded like a polar explorerthrough clips, clasps, and moorings, catches, straps, and whalebone stays, sailing toward the iceberg of her nakedness. Later, I wrote in a notebookit was like riding a swan into the night, but, of course, I cannot tell you everything -the way she closed her eyes to the orchard, how her hair tumbled free of its pins, how there were sudden dashes whenever we spoke. What I can tell you isit was terribly quiet in Amherstthat Sabbath afternoon, nothing but a carriage passing the house, a fly buzzing in a windowpane. So I could plainly hear her inhalewhen I undid the very tophook-and-eye fastener of her corset and I could hear her sigh when finally it was unloosed, the way some readers sigh when they realizethat Hope has feathers, that reason is a plank, that life is a loaded gunthat looks right at you with a yellow eye. Billy Collins
Billy was OK, but he will never replace my Douglas.Surely he understands that..........Emily
These new fangled computerscan really be irratating!My message with Glenn's nameon it. What a revolting development............Emily
I am still in shock thatEmily could be such a hottomato in the hands of theright man!.........E.A. Poo
One of the reasons Douglashas had such a thing for meis that he understood thatunder my Victorian veil therewas a passionate woman. You seehe read all my poetry carefullyand could see between the lines...........Emily
I love train rides!Maybe I could meet you and Miss M. in Cleveland?........Tiny Tim
Nice timing with your trip plans, folks. The snow is gone, and there will be some clear days while you are here, full of cherry blossomsand the scent of government.........Hilary Clinton.
You will find lots of photosof me in my four star helmetwith my pearl handled Coltsand my sunglasses at the Smithsonian. I hang out there sometimes and watch people watching me. Maybe I'll see you there?.........General George Patton
Maybe there is a Rock and Rollsection at the Smithsonian,and you will see copies of my one album, SIDEBURNS..........Eddy Emerald
There is a jazz club in Georgetown called "Jerry's". Seinfeld has a piece of it along with Jerry Lewis and Jerry Lee Lewis's wife. My group plays there on Thursday nights, "The Wildcats". Check us out when you're in town. I'll buy you a beer.............Woody Allen
Duglass...as long as youse are goin to be dere, cud youse stop by Danny's joint and pick up a packegge for me? Don't open it, jus pick it up and bringg it widyouse home. I will contact youseafter youse return.........Vinnie
Doug, you always protests too muchwhen we mention the plethora of gay bars that exist in all of the vacation cities you visit, but Boy Howdy...there are several bars in D.C. that would knock your garters off girl!...........Elton John
Not just bars, there are bunchesof wonderful bath houses too!Check out the Trojan Dude if you get some time..........George Michael
You fruits, you poofs need to understand that my Douglas is a straight arrow. He don't play those fag games............Emily
Emily, you hypocrite! You know that your were mostly a frustated spinster with very little actual experience with men, and only a hair's breath from embracing lesbonics! That's why your poetry is such tripe.........Edgar Allen Poo
How nice it is to hear from the old FFTR gang! You guys have been pretty quiet over the last few months, enit?
I once visited Georgetown, and wondered why I wasn't treated with more respect...........George Foreman
Our nation's capitol is where I set up the country's first Ramada Inn. Bet you didn't know that!............George Gobel
Go slow when you get to the Historic section at the Smithsonian that deals with Little Big Horn; some great paintings and busts of yours truly. I was a handsome man.....General George A. Custer
Maybe you can find my Cadillac while you are there?........Geronimo
Stay away from Barack's crib, man. He is in a foul mood what with all these Republican headhunters after his butt...........Jesse Jackson
They probably have some modern tanks and Humvees there now; at least those from Desert Storm. Maybe they have some wax replicas of Saddam with the rope around his Iraqi chicken neck.......Sgt. Rock
Hey, this is the Smithsonian, Sarge, not a wax museum..........Eddy E.
Der will bee eyzz on youse at all times, punk. So make sure dat youse do like youse been toold..........Vinnie
I was once President too, you know; had a run of 6 seasons on WEST WING.........Martin Sheen
Marty, you weren't a real President--you just played one on TV!......Jimmy Carter
You could say that about George W. Bush Jr. too, but why beat a dead President............Barry Goldwaters
Junior's not dead yet, Barry. He still gets his mug on the 6 o'clock news couple times a month............Sarah P.
He is dead from the neck up, and has been for 12 years.........Shawn Penn
Hey Dude, you need to stay in your hotel after dark. There are somevery bad punks roaming those DC streets, and many of us want you and your Miss M to get back to Redwing Manor safely............Ice T
Anonomann, get on in here and add some Deusches color to the mix...........Al Einstein
What book(s) did you take along with you to fill in those down times?
how do u do?
Chinese Dude: I'm doin good, and Doug and Miss M are probably doing well too, on their train ride. They should be clearing Montana and into North Dakota this fineSt. Patrick's Day. I am wearingseveral kinds of green myself,but I wonder how important thisday may be in the Orient?My calendar is set up for three month increments, so I alreadyhave May on the wall here atthe office. In a few weeksJune will make its appearance,and the reality of ALL thisretirement adventure will beginto sink in, way in.I am headed to Personneltomorrow actually, for myfirst "retirement counseling".Tonight is my monthy FilmClub discussion meeting, andwe will look at ALL the filmsever released starring JamesDean: EAST OF EDEN, REBEL WITHOUTA CAUSE, and GIANT. Corey Haim and Peter Gravesdied this week. In the tabloidheadlines I saw BURT REYNOLDSBRAVE LAST DAYS, so possiblyhe is getting ready to bitethe big one too. On the newsthis morning it was announcedthat Michael Jackson has over60 unreleased songs he hadrecorded personally, and wasworking on; enough to release11 albums over the next decade.His estate, his kids, willrake in those MJ bucks forthe rest of their lives I guess.
Man who stand on corner wearing green is not Irish, just moldy.......Confuscus
In China man who wear greenprobably Environmentalist,or IRA terrorist..........Charlie Chan
Liz Taylor has green eyes, so she don't have to wear nothing today, and will not get pinched.........Eddy Emerald
This is the one day all year that the little people canmake their appearances withouthaving a bunch of large whitepunks trying to catch us andforce us to tell them where thegoddamn pot-o-gold is!..........Lepri Kann
Today would be a good dayto get out your DVD copy ofthe remastered John Ford'sTHE QUIET MAN. The Duke wasterrific in it. Maureen O'Harawas an Irish beauty for sure. The best acting award, of course,goes to me..........Barry Fitzgerald
While on your train ride, sir,maybe you could whip out yourlap top and watch a bunch oftrain movies, instead of justreading some lame book, enit?Movies like John Frankenheimer's THE TRAIN with Burt Lancaster, and VON RYAN'S EXPRESS with Frank Sinatra, and BOX CAR BERTHA, one of Marty Scorsese's first efforts,with David Carradine and Barbara Hershey, and MURDER ON THE ORIENT EXPRESS, with an all star cast, with Albert Finney as Poirot, THE POLAR EXPRESS just for whimsey, with the voices of Tom Hanks and Stephen Tyler, THE EMPORER OF THE NORTH POLE with Lee Marvin and Ernest Borgnine, THE GREAT LOCOMOTIVE CHASE, Disney's classic with Jeffrey Hunter and Fess Parker, THE GENERAL with Buster Keaton, BOUND FOR GLORY with David Carradine, UNION PACIFIC with Joel McCrea, NIGHT PASSAGE with James Steward, RUNAWAY TRAIN with John Voight, THE TRANSIBERIAN EXPRESS with Woody Harrelson, BREAKHEART PASS with Charles Bronson, 39 STEPS by Hitchcock, ATOMIC TRAIN, BRIEF ENCOUNTER, BULLET TRAIN with Ken Takakura, THE CASSANDRA CROSSING with Richard Harris, CAUGHT ON A TRAIN with Peggy Ashcroft, CLOSELY WATCHED TRAINS, NORTH BY NORTHWEST with Cary Grant, THE DARJEELING LIMITED with Natalie Portman, DEATH TRAIN, THE GREAT TRAIN ROBBERY with Sean Connery, THE STATION AGENT with Peter Dinklage, NORTHWEST FRONTIER with Kenneth More, SILVER STREAK with Gene Wilder, KANSAS PACIFIC with Sterling Hayden, HORROR EXPRESS with Christopher Lee, END OF THE LINE with Wilfred Brimley, and THE IRON HORSE (1924).
Her Body's a Temple Patrick O'Malley hoisted his beer and said: "Here's to spending the rest of me life between the legs of me wife!" - and he took home the top prize for the best toast of the night.In bed later that night, he told his wife: "Mary, I won the prize for the best toast of the night." She said, "Aye, Paddy, what was your toast?" So he told her: "Here's to spending the rest of me life sitting in church beside me wife." "Oh," she said, "that is very nice, dear." The next day, Mary ran into one of Paddy's drinking partners in the street. Mischievously, the man said: "Did you hear about your husband winning a prize in the pub the other night for a toast about you, Mary?" She replied: "Aye - and I was a bit surprised. Till now, he's only been down there twice. Once he fell asleep, and the other time I had to pull him by the ears to make him come".
Sign in a Dublin shop: OReilly's Kentucky Fried Chicken. If Colonel Sanders had had our recipe He'd have been a general!
One linersSeen in a Dublin newspaper: Prize crossword. Solve it and win £20,000 plus a holiday for two in Paris. For those only playing for fun, the answers are on page 14. Sign on the coast road by a small Sligo village: 'When you can't read this sign, the road is flooded.' 'I want some six by four timber for the new barn,' said Cassidy. 'We don't call it that now,' said the DIY manager. 'Since we've gone metric you have to ask for 15.2cms by 10.16cms. And if you want any it's two pounds a foot!' Father Francis it was who stubbed his toe and stumbled whilst baptising a child, and henceforth the boy was known as Thomas oops McNaily'.
'My long lost brother is returning on Sunday. I haven't seen him since he left Ireland thirty years ago,' said Mick. 'He wrote to say he'll be arriving at Shannon airport at eight in the morning.' 'If he's been away that long,' asked Sean, 'how will you recognise him?' 'I won't,' reasoned Mick. 'But he'll recognise me cos I've never been away at all.
What of Jim Farrell who found riches in America and sent home a newly discovered rejuvenating drug, guaranteed to take years off a person's age? Try a course of these, mother,' he wrote. Till be home in six months - I can't wait to see the change in you.' Six months came and went and Jim arrived at Dublin. Through the waiting throng at the airport came a stunning blonde girl pushing a pram. 'Jim, don't you recognise me? I'm your mother. I took one of the pills and look at me!' 'In the name of heaven,' said Jim, 'what's that in the pram?' 'Ach, that's your father, he took two pills!'
As a birthday treat Pat had taken his fiancee out for a meal at a very smart restaurant. The menu looked rather too expensive for Pat's pocket so he gradually whittled down the lady's choice to chicken and salad. 'That'll be £38 sir,' smiled the waiter. 'Thirty-eight pounds,' said Pat. 'Sure we've only had chicken and salad.' 'Yes, sir,' explained the waiter, 'but you've had chicken breasts. There's only one breast on a bird so we've had to kill two birds to serve you.' Mumbling to himself Pat reluctantly paid the money just as his lady friend said: 'Why don't we have a cocktail? I fancy a horse's neck.' 'Well,' said Pat. I'll have the legs. They're not killing two horses!'
Two eighty-year-olds were watching TV. 'Pat, me darling,' said Mary. 'Would you ever do me a favour? Would you go into the kitchen and get me some ice cream out of the freezer?' 'I will,'said Pat. 'Well, shall I write it down for you?' asked Mary. 'Because your memory's not what it was.' 'Don't be stupid, woman. I can remember a simple thing like a plate of ice cream,' snorted Pat. 'Yes, but I was thinking of having a little chocolate sauce poured on it, so I'd better write it down.' 'Good God in heaven,' bawled Pat. 'I'm not stupid you know. I can remember ice cream with chocolate sauce.' 'Yes, but do you know those hundreds and thousands decorations. I was thinking of a sprinkling of them on top. I'd better draw a picture,' said Mary. 'You'll do no such thing,' said Pat. 'I can remember ice cream, chocolate sauce and hundreds and thousands. Just hang on a minute.' Hang on Mary did, one minute, ten, twenty, forty. Eventually Pat returned carrying a tray. On the tray was a plate. On the plate was egg, bacon and sausage. 'See, I told you. I should have written everything down,'said Mary. 'Why's that?' asked Pat. 'You've forgotten the toast,' she snapped.
As the Reagan twins sat watching TV, on screen came the Tour de France cycle race. 'Why do they do that?' asked Paul. 'Do what?' said Peter. 'Cycle for miles and miles, up hill, down dale. Month after month, day after day. Through wind, rain, snow, ice. Why do they continually torture themselves?' 'It's because,' said Peter, 'the winner gets half a million pounds.' 'Yes,' replied Paul. 'But why do the others do it?'
The news had spread like wildfire round Dublin. At the Point Theatre on Saturday there would be a very special event. It would be the only appearance in Ireland of the world-famous Brendini, the faith healer. Tickets sold like hot cakes and come the evening the theatre was packed out two hours early. The audience sat in great expectation of the wonders to come and many a one began to feel a little overcome by the importance of it all. At last the moment came and the public address boomed out the news: 'Ladies and gentlemen, please meet and greet the greatest living healer. The one, the only, the fabulous Brendini!' Lights flashed, smoke bombs exploded, fanfares blared and out strode the man himself to a standing ovation. 'Brothers and sisters!' said the great man. 'It is a delight to be with you all, and tonight I hope to heal as many people as I can' - cheers, applause, music. 'Now, without further ado,' added Brendini, 'I would like volunteers on stage right now. Is there anyone out there with an affliction? Please let me know now.' 'Here, sir. Over here,' cried Murphy. 'I've got a badly twisted leg from where the horse kicked me. I can't stand without crutches. Can you heal me?' 'Indeed yes,' said Brendini. 'Come on up. Now, is there anyone else afflicted?' 'Y-y-y-yes, s-s-sir,' called O'Brien. 'I-I-I've g-g-got a t-t-terrible st-st-st-stammer.' 'Come on up to me,' said the great one, and O'Brien strode up. 'Now,' said Brendini, 'I want you, Mr Murphy, to go behind the screen,' and Murphy did. 'Now,' went on the great man, 'I want you to raise your eyes to the Lord and throw out your left crutch!' Out flew the crutch, and the audience cried, 'Hallelujah!' 'Now, Murphy, raise your eyes to the Lord and throw out your right crutch!' Out came the second crutch and the people screamed, 'Hallelujah - it's a miracle!' 'Now,' said Brendini, 'Mr O'Brien, I want you to go behind the screen, raise your eyes to the Lord and say the first thing that comes into your head.' O'Brien walked behind the screen, and said: 'M-M-M-Murphy's f-f-fell over!'
Idly the American tourist watched the Cork man dig and turn over the soil. Eventually he called: 'Hey, buddy, what's that you're doing?' 'I'm digging potatoes, sor.' 'Potatoes? Those small things? You call them potatoes? Back home in Iowa we have potatoes ten times that size!' 'Yes, sor. But you see. We only grow them to fit our mouths!'
When it came time for the child to be baptised Doolan proudly stood by the font in St Anne's church. 'Now,' said Father Francis, 'and what are we going to name the little one?' 'Hazel,' said Doolan, with a smile. 'Lord save us,' moaned the priest. 'All the saints in heaven, and you're calling her after a nut!'
The phone went in the hospital casualty department. 'Hello,' said a frantic voice. 'It's Mick Doolan here. Can you come quickly, my wife is having a baby.' 'I see,' said the receptionist. 'And is this her first child?' 'No,' said Doolan, 'this is her husband speaking.'
Young O'Brien had met the lovely Colette at university in Dublin and romance blossomed and then fully bloomed. Twas not long before O'Brien was invited back to Mayo to meet Colette's family - the Cassidys, farmers of long standing. As always, the family gathered in the front room, or parlour, and father-in-law-to-be Mick Cassidy began to hold court on the day's work at the farm. While tea and cakes and sandwiches were brought in, Mick said to O'Brien: 'I've shovelled fourteen and a half tons of manure this afternoon - have another sandwich!' With that the big Texan came over to Murphy. 'No thanks,' muttered O'Brien. 'This morning I shovelled over fifteen tons of manure, have a custard cream.' 'No thanks,' was the weak reply. A short time later Cassidy senior went out of the room and the young suitor said: 'Your father's a lovely man, but he keeps talking about manure all the time. It's putting me off my grub. Can't you get him to say fertiliser?' 'Listen,' said Colette, 'it's taken us years to get him to say manure!'
Murphy was driving the horse and trap home from the pub on a warm summer's evening. Beside him sat Toby the labrador, great guard dog and constant friend. Suddenly the still of the evening was rent by a tremendous engine noise and round the tight bend in the country lane came a huge Mercedes car doing at least seventy miles an hour. Behind the wheel sat a red-faced Texan who chewed a fat cigar and drummed his fat fingers on the dashboard in time to the ear-splitting quadrophonic car radio. Too late the American realised he couldn't pass Murphy and the cart on the narrow tarmac strip - too late he realised he should have braked thirty yards ago. Too late the Mercedes car smashed into the cart scattering horse, dog and Murphy to various points of the compass. As Murphy lay in a daze bemoaning his fate, he saw the Texan go over to the stricken horse. Realising its legs were broken the Yank drew out a .45 pistol and shot the beast dead. Going over to Toby the dog, it was obvious that its back was broken - 'bang', a second shot rang out, ending Toby's misery. With that the big Texan came over to Murphy. 'Hey buddy, are you all right?' he asked. 'As God is my judge,' muttered ashen-faced Murphy, 'I've never felt better in my life!'
Irish they were and drunk for sure and they sat in the comer of Mulligan's newly refurbished bar. Across the wall opposite was a huge mirror, fourteen feet long and stretching from floor to ceiling. Glancing around the room Pat suddenly spotted their reflection in the mirror. 'Mick, Mick,' he whispered. 'Don't look now but there's two fellas over there the image of us!' 'In the name of God,' said Mick, spotting the reflection. 'They're wearing identical clothes and everything.' 'That does it,' said Pat. 'I'm going to buy them a drink.' But as Pat started to rise from his seat, Mick said, 'Sit down Pat one of them's coming over!'
'Anyone who can guess how many ducks I have in this sack can have both of them,' said Murphy. 'Three,' said Ranagan. 'That's near enough,' said Murphy.
Mick Flaherty had supped more Guinness than enough and had stumbled out of Quinn's bar and into the Sunday afternoon air. As his drunken eyes squinted to adjust to the light, an ambulance went by at great speed. Blue lights flashing and siren blaring, it roared up the street with Mick in full flight running after it. A hundred yards, 200, 300, almost a quarter of a mile he tracked it until suddenly, lungs and legs giving out, he fell into the gutter. Then with his very last ounce of breath he roared: 'You can keep your damned ice cream!'
Casey had followed Murphy back to his flat. Drunkenly they'd stumbled the half mile from the Jolly Toper pub to celebrate Murphy's birthday. 'I've got it all organised,' said he, 'we'll have a party just you and I.' Entering the Murphy domicile Casey spotted the living room table covered in crates of beer and bottles of whiskey, brandy and rum. On a plate on the side were two slices of bread. 'Is it a party we're having?' he asked. 'It is so!' answered Murphy. 'Well,' said Casey, 'what's all the bread for?'
'Excuse me, landlord, but do lemons have legs?' asked O'Connor. 'I don't think so, why do you ask?' 'Well, I think I've squeezed your budgie into me gin!'
'If my father, God rest him, had lived till today he'd have been dead exactly three weeks last Tuesday,' said Flynn. 'Go on,' said Dunne. 'And was it you or your father that was killed in the car crash?' 'That must have been me father,' reasoned Rynn, 'because I've never owned a car.'
Draining his glass, Murphy said, 'I must be off. I'm taking night school classes in Vietnamese.' 'Why so?' asked the bartender. 'Well, we've just adopted a Vietnamese baby and I want to know what it says when it grows up,' replied Murphy.
Two men were scuffling outside a pub when along came a huge Irishman - fists like hams - who started taking his coat off. 'You're fighting about Ireland, aren't you?' he demanded. 'No, no,' said both men in unison. 'Honestly, it's a personal matter, nothing to do with Ireland at all.' 'Huh,' muttered the Paddy, and shuffled off. Two seconds later he was back, tearing off his coat saying: 'So Ireland's not worth fighting about, eh?'
The Rafferty brothers arrived in Britain on the Dun Laoghaire to Holyhead ferry. Disembarking, they noticed a diver clambering out of the water farther up the quay. 'My God,' said Sean. 'All the money we paid for our tickets, and that fella's walked it!'
Answers given by Mulligan to a general knowledge test in the local paper. Who was half man, half animal? - Buffalo Bill Who married Adam, apple is a clue? - Granny Smith Complete this well-known saying: One swallow doesn't... - Make you sick What was Gandhi's first name? - Goosey, Goosey
A workman was repairing the roof of the Liverpool Cathedral. Into the chapel below came the widow Cassidy bearing the world's troubles on her shoulders. Kneeling down she poured out her heart at a great level of decibels. 'Mother of God, help me!' she cried. 'Mother of God, help me!' Unable to contain himself the roofer called down in a booming voice: 'What do you want?' 'Don't be so nosy!' shouted the widow. 'It's your mother I'm talking to!'
'Can I have an ice cream, Dad?' asked young Eugene. 'Certainly not!' said Dad. 'It's too cold for ice cream.' 'Can I have one if I put my coat on?' persisted the child.
In Mulligan's bar, the young Salvation Army girl placed the collection box under the nose of Mick McCarthy and asked: 'Can you spare fifty pence for God?' 'How old are you?' asked Mick. Twenty-four,' she replied. 'Well, I'm sixty-eight, I'll see him before you do. I'll pay him meself
The Casey twins had stumbled across a dead horse. 'What shall we do with it?' asked Michael. 'Let's raffle it,' said Joseph. '£2 a ticket, limited sale of 200 tickets.' 'But what happens when the winner finds out it's dead?' reasoned Michael. 'Sure, we'll give him his money back!' was the reply.
Murphy had asked Casey for the hand of his daughter in wedlock. 'And can you support a family?' asked Casey. 'I think so,' replied Murphy. 'Well. There's six of us, you know,' said the future father-in-law.
'Caught you!' said Policeman Muldoon. 'Poaching in the river me boy is a serious offence. I must ask you to accompany me to the station.' Halfway out of the wood Murphy the poacher pulled up in his tracks. 'Bedad,' said he, 'haven't I left me jacket by the water's edge. I'll have to go back and get it!' 'No way,' said Muldoon. 'If I let you go back you'll run off. I've got a better idea. You wait here and I'll go back for the coat!'
'Are the tablets doing you any good?' asked the doctor. 'Well, to be honest,' said Murphy, 'I haven't started taking them yet.' 'Why ever not?' asked the doctor. 'Well,' said Murphy, 'you told me to swallow them after a hot bath and I haven't finished swallowing the hot bath yet!'
'We're a man short,' said the foreman. 'Well, why don't you employ me brother,' suggested Casey. 'He can do the work of two men!' 'OK,' said the boss. 'Send him tomorrow and you're fired!'
The family sat at table for the Christmas meal. Parcels opened, presents exchanged, they were now good and ready for the turkey and roast. As they tucked in, young Michael turned up his nose. 'Dad,' said he, 'this turkey tastes funny. And has anyone seen Harry my rabbit?' This remark was greeted with silence. 'I'm just saying,' he went on, 'this turkey tastes funny and has anyone seen Harry my rabbit?' Again silence. 'Dad,' said Michael mournfully, 'we're not eating Harry are we?' 'Indeed we're not,' assured the father. 'We're eating a duck. And it was a naughty duck - it ate Harry!'
Two old drunks on their way home from the pub, were stumblin up the country road in near darkness, "Seamus, I think we've stumbled into the graveyard - look, I can see a stone here that says a man lived to 105!""Glory be Malarki, was it anybody we knew?""No, twas somebody named 'Miles from Dublin'"
How is it that we know Christ was Irish?Well, he was 33, still lived at home with his Mother, whom he thought was still a virgin and she thought he was the son of God.
Winging his way to America from Ireland, Father O'Leary asked a stewardess, "How high is this plane, Miss?" The stewardess replied, "About thirty-two thousand feet, Father." The Father's jaw dropped in amazement. "Who'd have believed it? And could ye tell me how wide it is?"
Two Irishmen were walking home after a night on the beer when a severed head rolled along the ground. Mick picked it up to his face and said to Paddy "Jez, that look like Sean" to which Paddy replied "No Sean was taller than that"
Paddy was tooling along the road one fine day when the local policeman, a friend of his, pulled him over. "What's wrong, Seamus?" Paddy asked. "Well didn't ya know, Paddy, that your wife fell out of the car about five miles back?" said Seamus. "Ah, praise the Almighty!" Paddy replied with relief. "I thought I'd gone deaf!"
McCuen stumbled out of a saloon right into the arms of Father Logan. "Inebriated again!" declared the priest. "Shame on you! When are you going to straighten out your life??" "Father," asked McCuen. "What causes arthritis?" "I'll tell you what causes it! Drinking cheap whiskey, gambling and carousing around with loose women. How long have you had arthritis?" "I don't," slurred McCuen. "The Bishop has it!"
Thursday it be, 32 degrees,some ice on the windshield,headed toward niceness inthe 50's "they" say, withthe verdant Saint Patty slippingfast over that yesterdayhorizon, and the wearing of thegreen is gone for a time; untilthe next time. Someone I bumpedinto yesterday was wearingorange. "What's the dealio?"I inquired. "I am Protestant,not a frigging Catholic!"she insisted. Lot of heavysymbolism there, I suppose, butI still thought it was somewhatdorky. What's next, orange beer?It was a Led/Heart/Stonesmorning, even though I had alate start, sleeping in somesince I had less than fourhours sleep, getting home latefrom the film club meeting.It went well, but I will be sograteful in a few months when10pm does not punish me so.I stopped at Denny's and hada grand slam breakfast withseveral cups of scaldingcoffee, and now I am semi-coherent. Doug and Meredithshould be in DC today, right?And the weather will be great,says CNN and the Weather Channel.Kind of incredible how manyIrish types showed up hereyesterday; the humor was offthe chalalee, enit?I go to my first RetirementCounseling today. It islike a get the wheels turningkind of event; lots of paperworkand advice and warnings.Can't hardly wait for Dougto return and begin postingpics and stories of thisadventure of theirs. Melvais suggesting we begin planningour three week road trip forlate June, early July; post-retirement, and when she getsout of school on June 23.
Of course one could add all five of the HARRY POTTER films to yourTrain Film Festival, since so muchof the action can take place onthe Hogwart's Express.I must say that the Anonymousresponses have been nearlylegion while you enjoy your DCspring. I watched Bruce Willis inSURROGATES last night, and itwas a solid Sci-Fi thriller with abang up moral. Rent it if you can.It is Friday. I have the day off as Ipack up for our March week endat Pac Beach. Supposed to be sunnyand in the 60's tomorrow. Greattime to beach comb and set upbeach chairs and breath thosenegative ions, and dodge theseagull shit and pick up and kites.I got busy yesterday and wrotethree more poems for APPLEHOUSE.Her challenge this week was touse a pre-written line from someother poem, and create the poemthat precedes it. I wrote NOT YOURSISTER'S SERAPHIM, HOVERCRAFT,& HEIRLOOMS. In the final analysis,Lynne is being very fair with me,and dealing with my enthusiasmcalmly. She announced that she willonly have time to review up to (2)poems for each author, not actuallyresorting to restricting the numberof submissions yet. If she were todo that, it would shoot her premiseand her mission in the foot, for sure.My first Retirement counseling wentwell. I should be semi-OK with thethree sources of income I will have.Odd to be told that as a Federalemployee I have to "apply for retirement."
A few years ago, I decided to visit my sister who was living in France. I assumed that most French would speak English. I found that many people spoke only their own language and this included the ticket inspector on the train. He punched my ticket, then chatted cordially for a bit, making several expansive gestures. I simply nodded from time to time to show him that I was interested.When he had gone, an American tourist, also on the train, leaned forward and asked if I spoke French.'No', I admitted.'Then that explains', she said, 'why you didn't bat an eyelid when he told you that you were on the wrong train.'
Report: Something loose in cab.Answer: Something tightened in cab.Report: Evidence of leak in crankcase.Answer: Evidence removed.Report: Dynamic brakes don't work at any speed.Answer: This locomotive is not equipped with dynamic brake.Report: Alternator volume unbelievably loud.Answer: Volume set to more believable level.Report: Locomotive dances up and down when brake applied at 89 mphAnswer: Could not reproduce problem in engine house.Report: Dead bugs on windshield.Answer: Live bugs on order.Report: Parking brake cause throttle lever to stick.Answer: That's what it's there for.Report: Engine missing.Answer: Engine found under hood after brief search.Report: Locomotive handles funny.Answer: Locomotive given verbal warning to be serious.Report: Radio hums.Answer: Reprogrammed radio with the words.
Roger was on a train, mumbling to himself, smiling, and then raising his hand. After a moment of silence, he would go through the same process ... mumble, smile, raise hand, silence.Maggie watched this closely, and after about ¼ an hour, she said, in a concerned voice, 'Excuse me. Is anything the matter?''Oh, no,' Roger answered. 'It's just that these long trips get very tedious so I tell myself jokes.''Why then, inquired Maggie, 'do you keep raising your hand?''Well,' smiled Roger, 'that's to interrupt myself because I've heard that joke before.'
Andy wants a job as a signalman on the railways. He is told to meet the inspector at the signal box. The inspector puts this question to him: "What would you do if you realised that two trains were heading for each other on the same track?" Andy says, "I would switch the points for one of the trains." "What if the lever broke?" asked the inspector. "Then I'd dash down out of the signal box," said Andy, "and I'd use the manual lever over there." "What if that had been struck by lightning?" "Then," Andy continues, "I'd run back into the signal box and phone the next signal box." "What if the phone was engaged?" "Well in that case," persevered Andy, "I'd rush down out of the box and use the public emergency phone at the level crossing up there." "What if that was vandalised?" "Oh well then I'd run into the village and get my uncle Silas." This puzzles the inspector, so he asks, "Why would you do that?" Came the answer, "Because he's never seen a train crash."
dang meese, dis is da damnist bunch of funnie crapola I ever red. hears hopping dat Douglus will fulley apprecheate all dese dudes, duds, and dudettes whos took da time to come over hear and put dis stuff on for da parueall of the Savant later on dere...................Vinnie
Glenn, I read your new poems. I love HEIRLOOM, another sentimental reflection of the love you have for your grandfather's memory.................Emily
Hey Dude, I really dug HOVERCRAFT, taking us to the Hurt Locker realm. Lot of vibrance, strength, and insights in that one.................Eddy Emerald
I found NOT YOUR SISTER'S SERAPHIM to be off the hook myself. It has several poetic twists and turns, although I'm sure Miss Rees will find something to criticize in it....................Edgar Allen Poo
Blake and his parents were drinking at the bar in a train station when they heard a whistle. The three of them rushed out of the bar onto the platform only to discover that they had missed the train. "The next train is in one hour," said the stationmaster. The three went back into the bar. The parents had another drink; Blake had a Pepsi. Again they heard a whistle, rushed out and discovered the train pulling away. "Next one is sixty minutes from now!" said the stationmaster. An hour later, Blake, with his mom and dad, raced out onto the platform, and his parents leaped onto the train as it pulled away. The boy was left standing on the platform and began to laugh uproariously. "Your parents just left you," said the stationmaster. "Why are you laughing?" "They came to see me off!"
A businessman was traveling in the train and his seat was reserved in the last couch of the train. Every time the train stops at station and he faced so much of problem as all shops to purchase eatables were far off. He was very upset and every time he was remembering that's all happened because I am in the last couch. When he got down at the destination station, he asked the station person that he wants to lodge a complaint against the railway staff. The complaints and suggestions book was given to him and he wrote: " There should not be any last couch in the train. If there is any last couch in the train, it should be kept somewhere in the middle.
he train came to a sudden grinding stop."What has happened, Conductor?" asked a nervous passenger."Nothing much, we just ran over a cow.""Was it on the track?""No," replied the disgusted conductor. "We chased it into the barn."
Little Johnny kid is standing on the platform at the railway station. His momma thinks he's standing a bit close to the edge so she says, "Hey Johnny, get back away from the edge before a train comes by and sucks you off."At this Johnny smiles and yells out: "C'mon train!"
There once was this guy who worked for the Railroad as a conductor.Let's say his name was Joe. Well, Joe was walking through the train, en route,collecting tickets from the passengers. He comes to car 12, booth 3. In it isthis beautiful woman. She had curves in all the right places, her skin wasjust tan enough to give a healthy look.. well, you know what I mean.So, he asked her for her ticket:"Excuse me ma'ma, do have your ticket?""Oh, I am soooo sorry, I dropped it out the window by accident," shereplied."Sorry, ma'am can't have any passengers without tickets." He grabbedher by the scruff of the neck and THREW her out of the train. Well, shelanded on the tracks, was run over by the train. Naturally, the conductor wasarrested, thrown in jail. He was convicted of murder before a jury of hispeers, and sentenced to death by electrocution.The day of his execution came up, and he was asked what he would likefor his last meal. He ask of a banana. They gave it to him, he ate it,received his last rites, and was escorted to the chair. The executionerstrapped him in, hooked everything up. Last, he threw the BIG switch once,and NOTHING HAPPENED. So, he did it again, and NOTHING HAPPENED. Well, bylaw the conductor was legally dead, so they had to release him.Oddly enough, the guy got a job on another railroad, as a condustor!One day, he was gathering tickets, and came to a booth with a little boy."Young man, do you have your ticket?", asked the conductor."A-a-a, I'm sorry, I ate it by mithtake..", said the little boy.And.. the same thing happened-- the boy was thrown off the train andkilled. The guy was arrested, sentenced to death by electricution.It cameto him last day. The death row guard asked him what he would like for hismeal. He asked for banana again. He ate it, and a priest gave him last rites.He was escorted to the death chamber. This time, though, they wheresmart. They washed his hands to get rid of any banana slime, they washed upthe chair. Next, they placed him the chair, and hooked him up. The switch-puller pulled the switch once, and NOTHING HAPPENED. The switch-puller pulledthe switch twice, and NOTHING HAPPENED, not even a single hair raising on theguy's chest.Well, as the law says, they had to let him go...Even more amazingly, he got a job on yet another railroad.This time is was a rabbai. Same old stuff. Rabbai had no ticket (heforgot to buy it). Guy threw him off the train, rabbai died. Guy was arrested,convicted, sentenced to death by electrocution.When the guard asked him what he would like for a last meal, he askedfor a banana. He ate it, received last rights, and was escorted to thechamber.However, this time the officials where going to get it RIGHT! Theyscrubbed his body with s brillo pad. They scrubbed the chair with steel wool.They tried the chair on a few other prisoners...Okay, they strapped him in, and threw the switch once, NOTHING HAPPENED.Threw the switch asecond time, NOTHING HAPPENED. At this point the guy waslegally dead, etc, etc.But, before the guy could leave, the executioner, extremely frustrated(he'd seen this same guy THREE TIMES already). asked, "What is it with thebanana!"The guy replied, "I just like bananas."So, the executioner SCREAMED, "THEN HOW COME YOU DON'T DIE!!!!!""I dunno," replied the guy, "I guess I'm just not a very good conductor."
There once was five year old boy who enjoyed playing with his train set. One afternoon, his mother happened to be standing by the door listening to the boy play. She was shocked when she heard him saying,"All right, all of you son of a bitches who want to get on the train, get on train. And all of you son of a bitches who want to get off the train, get off the train. And all of you son of a bitches who want to change seats, change seats now 'cause the train's getting ready to leave. Whoo whooooo."The mother was just devastated, so she scolded her son and said to him,"Now son, I want to go upstairs and take your nap, and when you get up, you can't play with your train set for two hours."So the boy took his nap and didn't even mention his train set for two hours. After the two hours were up, the boy asked his mom if he could play with his train set again. She said yes, and asked him if he understood why he was punished. He nodded his head yes, and off he went. The mother stood by door to listen to what her son would say. The boy sat down to his train set and calmly said,"Whoo whoooooo. All of you ladies and gentlemen who want to get on the train, get on the train. All of you ladies and gentlemen who want to get off the train, get off the train. And all you son of a bitches who are pissed 'cause the train is two hours late, go talk to the bitch in the kitchen.
A large two engined train was crossing America. After they had gone some distance one of the engines broke down. "No problem," the engineer thought, and carried on at half power. Farther on down the line, the other engine broke down, and the train came to a standstill. The engineer decided he should inform the passengers about why the train had stopped, and made the following announcement: "Ladies and gentlemen, I have some good news and some bad news. The bad news is that both engines have failed, and we will be stuck here for some time. The good news is that you decided to take the train and not fly."
n the early 20th century, there were many coal mines in the Canadian Rockies, including some in what is now Banff National Park.On Saturday nights, many miners would ride into Banff and have a cup of tea or glass of lemonade, or just possibly, something stronger.One Saturday, an inebriated miner missed the last train home. He wandered across to the yard, found an engine in steam, backed it out onto the main line, and drove it to his mine, stopped it, went to the bunk-house, and fell asleep.He was charged with "theft of a locomotive" by the Canadian Pacific Rly., but he couldn't remember a thing about it.The trial went like this:Defense counsel: Was the engine on CPR property before my client moved it?CPR: Yes.Def: Was it on CPR tracks when he left it?CPR: Yes.Def: Did it at any time leave CPR tracks?CPR: No.Def: Then where is the theft?Magistrate: Case dismissed.
Two drunks were walking upgrade between the railroad tracks. One of them said, "this is is longest stairway I have ever been on." To this, the other replied, "It's not the stairs that bother me, it's the low banister."
A man and a woman, who had never met before, found themselves assigned to the same sleeping room on a transcontinental train. Although initially embarrassed and uneasy over sharing a room, the two are tired and fall asleep quickly -- he in the upper bunk and she in the lower. At 2:00 a.m., he leans over and gently wakes the woman, saying, "Ma'am, I'm sorry to bother you, but would you be willing to reach into the closet to get me a second blanket? I'm awfully cold." "I have a better idea," she replies. "Just for tonight, let's pretend that we're married." "Wow! That's a great idea!!" he exclaims. "Good," she replies. "Get your own damn blanket."
Well, here we go, Week 2 of thePalmer-Means DC Adventure isunderway. The Democrats havemuscled in their health reformbill. Melva and I had a niceweekend at Pac Beach. Ouryoungest daughter came overwith her latest flame in tow;a 23 year old Tacoma policeofficer. Another couple, oldfriends were sharing our placetoo. The weather was not asnice as we hoped. There were40mph winds on the beach,like a sandstorm most of theday. The boyfriend built ahuge beach fire on Saturdaynight, and we stood out therein the wind and rain andenjoyed it. We are startingto make out plans for oursummer road trip; going totake three weeks this time.Our Toyota Camry goes infor its recall this Tuesday;tomorrow actually--the gaspedal, computer tweek, and the floor mats. It must besubstantial since they willneed four hours to do it.Looking at the weather patternsfor the DC area, looks likeyou two had wonderful weatherfor the whole gig. Jesus, begora, there are over100 comments on this vacationsection, jokes, tears, andjoys, and rants; good stuff.
Have you read Glenn's poem SEEKERyet? It is out there, even for him..............Eddy E.
Actually, the new poem MARVELS shows a softer side to the curmudgeon persona Glenn presents. It is also funny. Not that he is a man without humor, as his comments demonstrate on a regular basis, but often his poetry is sarcastic and bombastic. MARVELS just tickles me.............Emily
Thanks you two for the responses.Sometimes I feel like I amwriting in a vacuum, that thewords, the poetics just standup for a moment like a chalkdrawing on the sidewalk beforethe next rain washes it away,just temporal art, poems of themoment; and maybe that is OK.Posterity is overrated for sure,as is notoriety, enit?Tuesday it be, me hardys,and it will be gorgeous theysay. It was 39 this fine Ledmorning. I have been watchingthe newest Tom Hanks/Steven Spielberg effort on HBO:THE PACIFIC, a worthy successorto BAND OF BROTHERS, this timea mini-series, 10 hours, onthe WWII war in the Pacific. Hanks seems to have the Midastouch as producer. I still lovehis collaboration with RonHoward and HBO, FROM THE EARTHTO THE MOON, after his successstarring in APOLLO 13. I wonder what day this weekDouglas and Miss M will return?
Maybe Doug will write somestuff on the long train ridehome, something for theaterlike MURDER ON THE AMTRACK,or TRAIN RIDES ARE NOT FORSISSIES, or 50 WAYS TO AVOIDINDIGESTION ON AMTRACK..........Edgar Poo
Swooner or latter, dat punk hastareeturn to da sceen of da crime, rite? My reports hav bin gud, soshe dont hav two munch to worry boutwen he gitsback dere............Vinnie
Gosh, it is midday, and Ireturn to these columns hopingto find some other commentorsextant within the confinesof this vacation; but no, sofar, just me and the Anonymousgang. I did manage to scribblea new bit of poetics today,and match it to the sixthproposed ending that Lynne R.has proposed. I try and trynot to be overanxious, overzealous, overwhelming to newpeople, but my enthusiasmswells up like rabid edemaand I have to write, have tocreate, have to find a releasefor my expression, have to write more poetry so that when I retire I have more tochoose from for the poetry competitions I will enter,the Poetry Slams. Am I clearlydeluded, or just preparingfor a poet's campaign, aperformance art happening?Beats the rat shit out ofme, folks, but I have aclear image of these events,and until the bitter realityof such things muddies mymind and my world, I willcling to these halcyonillusions like a starvingman let loose at the CountryBuffet.
All right, alright, arite!It be Wednesday, and theBoss is still on vacation.Hope it is a corker, and thatthere will be stories, pics,and rants to spare post-Palmerreturn to the FFTL fold.I found myself staring atmy Sherman Alexie book, WARDANCES again this morning. Icouldn't wait to buy it, andhave not found the time toread any of it yet. ProbablyOK though, just leaves moredelicious poetry for somefuture moment when I am ready for it, enit?200,989 miles my odometersaid this morning. My Izzmangot his first oil changeof the 200 thousands yesterdayafternoon. I use the highmileage oil, and it seemsto seal leaks and up mygas mileage a bit. Followinga truck the other nightafter work and a rock flewout of its tire and smashedmy driver's headlight. I hateit when that happens. You haveno recourse, just have to suckit up and get it fixed.Our Camry is at PuyallupToyota getting its recall stuffdone, and they gave us a2010 Camry for a loaner.We have to face H&R Blocktonight and find out if weowe Uncle Fed some bucks.That's always a treat.Melva got on line and lookedat the Visa account and sawI had spend more than agrand on "something". Sheinquired about it, and Itold her it was none ofher damned business; whichis code between us that itwas for some kind of gift.She already has guessed thatit is another TV or a computer.Much too clever this wifeof mine.
Oh, forgot to mention that Ireceived an email from one ofthe Applehouse regular poetcommentors, and he suggestedthat "since Lynne only can reviewpoems in her free time, wouldn'tit make more sense if I sent inless poems so that she could workthem into her schedule." I emailedhim back, basically telling himthat I was writing off pure Museadrenaline, that I had writtenmore poetry in the last monththan I had in over a year, andthat he could (politely) kissmy keyboard with his request, and then I cc'd it to Lynne R.The dude emailed me back andjust said "good luck; only asuggestion." No word from Lynneherself at this point. Damnthe world has another reasonto try and stifle the oldGlennmeister.
*&^%$#....HAD a hellishWednesday night. Was supposedto meet my Miss M. after workat H&R Block to do our taxes,but had a flat tire. I neverhave flat tires. Had to driveon the flat 5 blocks hereon campus to get to an aircompressor to pump it up.Then was not sure it couldmake it Sumner from Tacoma,so I creeped over to LesSchieb in Lakewood. They couldnot find any puncture, butthey replaced the valve stemand did it all for FREE,which pleased me of course.Then I realized I only hadthe stock donut tire lockedup under the tailgate, withno jack and no tool to releasethe ersatz tire. So I rushedto Sumner before my pals atTiny's Tires closed. Theyfelt that the rogue tire lookedOK. I then ordered a usedIsuzu rim and tire for tonightthat I will just toss in theback of the bed; having a lockingcanopy on it. With my physicallimitations, I no longer canchange a tire, so I will haveto depend on my roadside assistancedudes from Verizon. I have usedthem for towing several timesover the years. I had my oilchanged on Tuesday night, andperhaps those clowns screwed up the valve stem, or maybe itwas defective. Who knows?No further word from Lynne R.about my overkill poetics.Cortney Bledsoe left a commenton my site RE some quotes frompoet Billy Collins, who happensto be America's most "successful"poet, like a millionaire.C.L. wrote a "funny" littlepoem, cuz Collins is consideredthe Mark Twain, the humoristof poets. I got into BillyCollins recently because Janniehad all 8 of his poetry booksand was giving them away onher site; I actually won one of them actually. Cool, enit?
Surely Shirley, you two willmake your triumphant returnto Redwing Manor sometimetoday, or tomorrow. So I willjust post a small ditty here sosthat the number of comments will be even not odd, enit?I got the most kind, wonderful,astute, encouraging, and terrificemail from Lynne Rees. Afterexpecting yet another spankingas I crash into another groupof strangers with my atypicalaplomb, instead she sent adetailed sweet caring messagethat encouraged me to write asmuch as I wanted for her site.Cudda knocked my ass over witha parakeet feather.I guess I "won" a Billy Collinspoetry book over on Jannie'ssite, and it is in the mailas I type. I found over 100 ofhis poems to post on FFTR.It did my heart good to digdeep enough to find severaldetractors of his work. Heis perhaps the most successfulpoet in America like ever,getting huge fees for appearancesand readings. Garrison Keillorthinks he is a demigod. Yetout there ready to snipe arethose "critics" who feel thatartistically his poetry issophmoric and unsophisticated.I doubt that old Billy givesmuch of a rip, setting in hisgarret counting his millions.Don't know why some of the regular commenters out theredid not jump on the Palmer-is-on-vacation bandwagon, butthere it is.Did a cool thing for mybrother-in-law in Texas.He is a pen collector, andover the years I have foundsome very neat pens for him.A woodworker friend of mine,former student of mine, hasmade several custom pens forDon, but this summer I willpresent Don with the bestestpen ever, made from mooseAntler, shiny titanium, andreal gold, with his namemonogramed on it. He will flipout when he sees it in July.Will need to get out and seeRoman Polanski's GHOST WRITERthis week for the film club.Getting ansy to hear, to read,to react to the Palmer wit,the Savant riff that makes evenRobin Williams envious.
Whoa Nelly, shitfire Miss Agnes,the RETURN TO REDWING MANORhas not officially commencedyet; or at least if Doug andMiss M have returned, he hasnot had the energy or the timeto slog through this 113wonderful comments, and posthis triumphantness.I did get out to see thePolanski, GHOST WRITER, andit was better than I hadexpected. We had spent mostof the weekend playing cardswith friends and our kids;some new game, PonytailCanasta, using seven decks.A real wingding of a game.I finally figured out howto use ON DEMAND on my cablebox, and realize I will beable to tape those shows thatI screw up and miss; whichis exciting for me, andho-hum for the rest of theworld, enit?I did receive the Billy Collinspoetry book from Jannie,along with her "real name"and address, which will remaina secret, cuz she still prefersto go by Funster for all hergroupies, myself included. Butnow I have an address in orderto be able to send a Christmascard next season. I alsoheard several times fromYi-Ching Lin, the Chinesepoet and photographer wholives in NYC. She has givenme permission to post poetryon FFTR, which is great.Another new week starts offher at the Federal wageslave central. Hope Douglasis OK and will return soon.
Somewhere in motiona Savant and Miss Mare--on huge trainwheels, or on theirown pins, or in ashuttle, or in themighty Prius, moving,traveling, heading hotlytoward Redwing Manor wherethe boy and the catand the utility bills wait;and their imaginations arepumped with the multitudeof messages and ton ofimages they carry with them,all Smithsonian and Districtof Columbia related, perhapswith indigestion from cafesand restaurants and the traindiner cars, perhaps withnew forms of knowledge whereinthree dimensional artifactshave changed their personalsense of history, perhapswith bags of souvenirs thatwill gather dust some dayafter the first flush ofnostalgia has ebbed, perhapswith cameras and iphoneswelled with hundreds ofphotos that will be editedand perused for days afterthey return; for the Lakeawaits them, and the treesbending near their porchrub trunks in greetingas they rumble across theback porch and enter thekitchen, heavy bags in eachhand, wearing funny hats,and Groucho glasses.
After a little blue penciling--and it probably needs more, but it isso topical and silly, who cares,here is the poem I posted on FFTR.The Returneesfor Doug & MeredithSomewhere in motionSavant and Miss M are--on huge train wheels, or on their own pins, or in a shuttle, or in the mighty Prius, moving, traveling, steaming hotlytoward Redwing Manor wherethe boy and the catand the utility bills wait;and their imaginations are inflated with a multitude of symbolsand diverse visualizationsthey now carry with them,all Smithsonian and District of Columbia related; perhaps with indigestion from cafes and restaurants and the train dining cars, perhaps with new knowledge because three dimensional artifactshave changed their personal sense of history, perhaps with bags of souvenirs that will gather dust some dayafter the first flush of nostalgia has ebbed, perhaps with cameras and iphones swelled with hundreds of images that will be editedand perused for days after their return; for the Lake awaits them, and the trees bending near their porchrub trunks in greetingas the travelers rumble across the back porch and enter the kitchen, heavy bags in each hand, wearing funny hats,and Groucho glasses.
I can't stand it!This morning I made the decisionnot to leave a comment today, cuz I've left "several" commentsfor the days prior.But as the hours wore on thecolumn called to me, andhere I am with nothing ofsignificance to report; andso I do enthusiastically!Report "nothing of significance"as if were something else,something ironic, somethingdramatic, symbolic, sardonic,sarcastic, golden, goose-fleshy, or of several layersof import.I even waxed poetic yesterday, and still they have not returnedto the fold of red wings.Hell, it's only been 15 days.Probably took 12 days justto check out the Smithsonian,enit?
A week or so?A week or so?Let's hear it for the SO!One can only hope that thistrip has been one of the bestyou two ever had. The weatherreports from DC are showingwarm temps and cherry blossomsup the ying yang.Actually as two retired typesyou could take trips some timethat are "a month or so", enit? It is 36 degrees thismorning and it is a full moon.I sort of caught a chill andkeep trying to shake itsitting here at the office.It was a Led/Doors/Beatlesmorning, which was fabulous,since there were only 4 tunesplayed. I leave home later nowsince I no longer eat breakfastat the office. When I had myown office, it was homier.Now adrift in a sea of deskson the ass end of the building,some of the old thrill ofownership has subsided.I made out my application forSocial Security, and electronicallyfiled it on line. Don't we livein fascinating times?We did our taxes this week,and I discovered as we projectedinto next year that if I amnot careful we will end up havingto pay the IRS. So I have to getmy three funding sources to takeout at least 20% of the incomefor tax. 11 more weeks and Ibecome a free man. Can you digit? Of course you can!
Here's hoping that wherever you arein this Great Adventure, that you arehaving a GOOD FRIDAY. We all missyou and know that your keyboard willhum like a bitch on fire upon yourtriumphant return...........This message brought to youfrom the Washington State Chapterof THE ARTFUL FOLLOWERS OF SAVANT.
hay dere punk and missus punk, youse bingoner fora longg time dere, and sum of dafooks dat luv to hang round dis sight wudpreceate if youse got wurd to dem 1 of desedays or weeks. Startin to fel dat maybee derehaz bin sum fowl play hear..................vinnie
When you get back, dear Douglas, check out Glenn's site. He has been posting lots of new poetry that he himself has written, along with some encouraging words from Lynne Rees, and bunches of poems from a Chinese-American NYC poet/photographer by the fetching name of Yi-Ching Lin. ....................emily
You will like Yi-Ching's poetry, man. She favors short lines, non-capitalization, and often adds her own image to augment them. I have been emailingher, first asking for permission to posther poetry on FFTR, and then discussingher poems and photography. I bumpedinto her over at the Applehouse. She, like myself, has only beenparticipating over there for a short time. I have a medical treatmenttoday following either by a birthdaydinner for my youngest daughter,if my middle daughter can get timeoff from her job, or hosting theTFC screening of CHINATOWNin the theater district in Tacoma.Theatre on the Square, directlyacross Broadway from our spacein the Pythian temple, are showingold Cary Grant films, and then discussingthem--and then charging $9 a head.Gee, we at the TFC do it for nearly free.Tomorrow is our wedding anniversary,and I will give Melva her new Maclap top with blue tooth wireless mouse,and take her to dinner at the TacomaMelting Pot, where roses will be on thetable, and a photographer will be atthe ready. Sunday, for Christ's sake,is Easter, and we will have the girlsover for a family get-together.Monday, I will call in sick at workand fill out the Retirement applicationpacket for the Department of Veteran'sAffairs, and I will check in over hereto welcome back the Palmer/Meansparty, enit?
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