Tonight is poetry night. The theme: Chicago! Mine is Carl Sandburg's "Chicago Poet."
My poem:
Chicago
(January 2008)
Beer and brats
and cold brooding
walks
cigars and thoughts
and hard drinking
bouts
my chicago!
escape from the cold
northeastern old
city
meander and smoke
and have numerous
epipanies
i'm not so happy
now
and
i can't fake it
but perhaps
i'll be transformed
and perhaps
i'll be refreshed
just perhaps
[hopefully]
i'll be naked!
(c) fprm, 12-27-07
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Post-Holiday Blues
Last night accentuated for me the risk of suffering from a bout of post-holiday blues. This always happens to me, but usually after my birthday. This year, it is happening a bit quicker.
Although I survived yesterday and had a good time with my girls (wife and daughter), I kind of felt out of place in the home of my wife's relatives, like I did not belong. But then we got home to Summit Avenue, and I left there rather quickly (I am loathe to hang out at the place that once was my home but feels like it no more), went to see Charlie Wilson's War.
What a fun movie that was.
Then on Lark Street, I had a beer...there were a few bars open but the street and the scene was very desolate and to be honest, there is something a bit sad and slightly pathetic about hanging out in a bar on Christmas night. And on top of it all, the pint glass slipped out of my hand and crashed on the floor of the Lark Tavern. I went home.
First I thought I would paint, but I decided against it and just went to bed.
So, with the exception of Christmas Eve and Christmas morning and going to see the movie, I felt very alone, and just a little sad.
This Sunday, I leave for Chicago, and that should be fun.
Although I survived yesterday and had a good time with my girls (wife and daughter), I kind of felt out of place in the home of my wife's relatives, like I did not belong. But then we got home to Summit Avenue, and I left there rather quickly (I am loathe to hang out at the place that once was my home but feels like it no more), went to see Charlie Wilson's War.
What a fun movie that was.
Then on Lark Street, I had a beer...there were a few bars open but the street and the scene was very desolate and to be honest, there is something a bit sad and slightly pathetic about hanging out in a bar on Christmas night. And on top of it all, the pint glass slipped out of my hand and crashed on the floor of the Lark Tavern. I went home.
First I thought I would paint, but I decided against it and just went to bed.
So, with the exception of Christmas Eve and Christmas morning and going to see the movie, I felt very alone, and just a little sad.
This Sunday, I leave for Chicago, and that should be fun.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Merry Christmas
It's December 25, and the early morning celebration of Santa's visit has passed...successfully. Everyone was pleased with what they received. Pleased and grateful...and no attitude! Not bad for a coddled 5 year old!
And the cats enjoyed the wasted gift wrap paper all over the floor.
Although the worse is yet to come: being the only grandchild on my wife's side, total attention and adoration...and gifts galore.
As for my wife and I...all went well. Coffee, breakfast, a little wine, later the rest of a Henry Clay cigar.
And the cats enjoyed the wasted gift wrap paper all over the floor.
Although the worse is yet to come: being the only grandchild on my wife's side, total attention and adoration...and gifts galore.
As for my wife and I...all went well. Coffee, breakfast, a little wine, later the rest of a Henry Clay cigar.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Chicago 2008
A year ago, I moved into 2007 while finishing the last leg of a car ride with my family after our trip to Savannah GA.
This year, I will likely be at a New Year's Eve party in Chicago, IL...at an art gallery, with my fellow traveler and some other folk. Also, a trip to a Bavarian-style restaurant, to the Abraham Lincoln Bookshop and the Art Institute of Chicago to see some Gauguins, Hopper, and other notable works of art.
I always enjoy being home in Albany, but when I get to visit Chicago or San Francisco (that's Feb 8 - 11), it's always nice (albeit a bit difficult) to come back.
This year, I will likely be at a New Year's Eve party in Chicago, IL...at an art gallery, with my fellow traveler and some other folk. Also, a trip to a Bavarian-style restaurant, to the Abraham Lincoln Bookshop and the Art Institute of Chicago to see some Gauguins, Hopper, and other notable works of art.
I always enjoy being home in Albany, but when I get to visit Chicago or San Francisco (that's Feb 8 - 11), it's always nice (albeit a bit difficult) to come back.
Christmas Eve 2007
It is about 4 p.m., and I am at the Summit Avenue residence - the home of my wife and my daughter. A day spent prepping the Christmas Eve dinner (meatloaf, garlic mashed potatoes, asparagus sauteed in red wine and butter), making some cookies for The Man and sharing with my daughter the residual cookie dough, and watching the Simpsons movie twice (actually a very good, very sweet movie with a redemption theme).
Tonight a light supper, some wine, and we'll allow my daughter to open one gift. The girls will go upstairs, I will likely settle onto the couch and watch a couple showings of "A Christmas Story." It is funny: the older I get the more removed I am from Ralphie and the more I sympathize with the Old Man.
The girls will go to sleep, I will nod off and The Man will come through and do his work, have some cookies, drink an egg cream and be on his way.
This Christmas is special: my wife and I are trying to provide our girl with some semblance of family, of continuity, of stability, even as the world around her shifts and changes dramatically. But at least for tonight and tomorrow, the day will be hers, and I will do what I do best: suffocate any expression of sadness or remorse for my contribution to this drama and go with the flow.
Tonight a light supper, some wine, and we'll allow my daughter to open one gift. The girls will go upstairs, I will likely settle onto the couch and watch a couple showings of "A Christmas Story." It is funny: the older I get the more removed I am from Ralphie and the more I sympathize with the Old Man.
The girls will go to sleep, I will nod off and The Man will come through and do his work, have some cookies, drink an egg cream and be on his way.
This Christmas is special: my wife and I are trying to provide our girl with some semblance of family, of continuity, of stability, even as the world around her shifts and changes dramatically. But at least for tonight and tomorrow, the day will be hers, and I will do what I do best: suffocate any expression of sadness or remorse for my contribution to this drama and go with the flow.
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