Category: Random Thoughts

Feels Like Home

Day One: Home

Home: such a simple word belying vast emotional complexity.

What is home?

Home is where you are
                  belong
                  can be yourself
                  drop your anchor
                  expect to find it
                  feel safe and loved
                  hang your hat
                  lay your head
              you're happy
Home is where the heart is

What is home to me? I think of home and I think of

hot pancakes on cold winter mornings
books hoarded in every nook and cranny
cat in my lap
coffee in my cup
music on the radio

But it’s not. At least, not necessarily.

Like Sheldon on Big Bang Theory, I have My Spot:

My Spot 1

My Spot is Home.

With cat and coffee and books and music and yes, with pancakes.

Pancakes

Just don’t leave them unattended around the cat.

Pictured are my house-famous crunchy peanut butter, strawberry rhubarb jam, Nutella, maple syrup, and butter pancakes. Yeah, they’re that good!

Photo101

Hearty Snowplow Hips

I’m certain you’ve noticed something strange:

I’ve posted nearly every weekday for the past two weeks.

This is no accident, as I signed up for WordPress’ course Writing 201: Poetry.

Blogging U PoetryI’d planned to take it slow, knowing that school – lesson plans and grading and papers and grading and projects and grading and attendance and grading – would get in the way.

And then something miraculous happened: it snowed. Twice. In two weeks. Snow is rare enough in my particular part of North Carolina, and you can just forget having two snow storms literally back-to-back. But it happened.

As a result, in the last two weeks I’ve only taught two full days of school, with three more shortened due to various circumstances. Oh, and President’s Day weekend turned into a mini Winter Break: with school being closed due to the holiday, we dismissed on a Friday and returned the following Thursday. Suffice it to say I had plenty of time to work on my poetry, resulting in the following attempts:

 

 

 

 

 

 

However, I did more than just write. I also went out in the snow, and I almost regret it.

You see, I grew up in Pennsylvania – a place where snow is slightly more common. My birthday falls in December, meaning I quite literally learned to drive in snow. People here . . . did not. Look, it’s not an intelligence thing, it’s an ignorance thing. Why should people used to warm-ish winters and hurricanes know how to deal with snow? Conversely, why should people used to snow know how to handle hurricanes? Do we even need to bring up the damage and loss caused by Hurricane Sandy, which – bad as it was – could have been mitigated had New England taken the same precautions the South does for nearly every tropical storm?

Anyway, I had the bright idea to go to Redbox “before it got too bad.” Two weeks ago I wouldn’t have risked it; my so-called “tires” were nearly racing slicks. Now I’m driving on my first new set of tires ever (thanks to the generosity of a student and his family), so I felt much more confident: I had top-shape equipment and experience and knowledge in driving in snow. What could go wrong?

Other people. Other people could go wrong.

Snow TrafficHere’s some pointers for people who don’t know how to drive in snow.

1. Unless you really have to go somewhere, don’t drive. Your inexperience may be more dangerous than the weather.

2. Please scrape off your entire car, not just the windows. Blowback happens.

3. Turn on your lights.

4. You cannot drive at speed.

5. You cannot stop on a hill.

5a. Parking brakes are a thing – use them.

5b. More gas is not the answer.

6. You cannot take corners at speed.

6a. Don’t try to beat the light.

6b. Hard braking is not the answer.

6c. More gas is not the answer.

6d. When you end up in the ditch, more gas is definitely not the answer.

7. Have I mentioned turning on your lights and driving slower?

My round-trip was less than six miles. In those six miles I counted many cars without their lights on and most driving at speed, which resulted in two cars crossing the center line, two sliding backwards after stopping on a hill, and one spinning out in a double-wide turn lane after trying to beat the light. This particular car then ended up on a curb, tried the “more gas” method to get off the curb, and nearly slammed into my car in the resulting slide. The only thing that saved me was my own light turning green – the skidding car stopped in the space I had just vacated.

breaking-news

Four things prompted my flirtation with death:

1. I didn’t want to pay late fees on the Redbox movie I already had – I think it was Boxtrolls.

2. I had just recently watched the Academy Awards and wanted to see Whiplash.

3. My wife wanted to see Book of Life.

4. We wanted ginger ale.

Just to be clear: none of these are worth dying for.

Nevertheless, both Whiplash and Book of Life were good movies. Since Whiplash was nominated for – and won – several Academy Awards, I wanted to write my own mini-review:

Whiplash

Whiplash PosterSummary: An ambitious young jazz drummer meets an equally ambitious studio/concert band leader; ruthless physical and mental exertions and exhortations result, finally culminating in a mostly-cliché showdown.

Positive Reaction: I can see why Whiplash won Academy Awards for Film Editing and Sound Mixing.

Negative Reaction: This movie is not about jazz in particular or even music in general. I found the story somewhat compelling but for a movie ostensibly about music and jazz it felt . . . soulless. I could go on, but I’ll just direct you to this article from the New Yorker which, in the interest of full disclosure, I found after I’d formed my opinion and wondered if anyone thought the same thing; I hadn’t really heard of Whiplash until the Academy Awards.

Book of Life may be the best animated film I’ve seen; I don’t normally like animated movies, but this one grabbed my attention from the beginning and held on for the whole run time. The fact the film includes several popular songs which I happen to enjoy didn’t hurt its appeal either. It’s well worth the dollar or so Redbox charges to rent a copy.

So, that’s what I’ve been up to. You can expect some more posts from me over the next four weeks as I participate in another WordPress course: Photography 101.

Oh, I almost forgot to explain the title: it’s an anagram of the three (main) subjects of this post: poetry snow whiplash

Sonnet to the Future

Nib 1I’ve really enjoyed the last two weeks in Writing 201: Poetry. I learned quite a few new techniques, but above all I gained the confidence to write more poetry. I also learned that I write better when given a topic and some restraints – maybe it’s time to start paying attention to the daily prompts? – and others liked it too; that is, as long as the statistics don’t lie. To those of you who boosted to stats, never fear – I hope to visit your blogs and repay the favor (it just might take me a few days . . . better make that weeks).

Turning Calendar PagesIf you’ve missed my previous poems, I encourage you to go back and read them – some are better than others (obviously) but I’ve gotten such positive feedback that I’m sure you’ll find something to tickle your fancy.

At this point all I’m doing is attempting to delay the inevitable: the final post of my first poetry class.

So, here you go:


         Sonnet to the Future

The future stretches out before us like 
the open road or wide, rolling sea – 
beckoning with siren’s call to come
and hazard all in one great game of chance. 
It rolls over us, breaking the dike
we have built to hold it back. L’esprit
de l’escalier is not for us, succumbing
not to sticks or stones or lances.

We beat on as boats against the current
born back ceaselessly into the past*
and forced to confront our innermost fears. 
Things that were and things that were not
challenge our resolve in standing fast.  
Here’s to the future: the future is here.

* In case you didn’t know, this is nearly the final line from F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gastby (I changed a word or two). Arguably one of the greatest lines in one of the greatest works in American literature, it also happens to be one of my favorite quotes from literature.

Doubt: A Found Poem

I created this using a handy magnetic word generator, picking out striking words in the “poetry” category, and then arranging them into a poem.

Look for a book spine poem coming soon(ish)!

Doubt

Found Poetry 2

Morning

We’re supposed to be writing a prose poem for Writing 201. After reading several examples, this is my first attempt; however, I don’t even know if I’m on the right track. Comments, suggestions, and helpful criticism are greatly appreciated!

Update: Having left my original post up for several hours, I received several positive reviews and no real suggestions other than to remove the fingers – from the piece, not from me. I’m not that bad . . . at least, I don’t think I am . . . but you’d tell me, right?

Anyway, I’m going to go ahead and remove the password protection and share this with the world. Or, at the very least, the forty or so people who regularly visit.

Morning

With cold fingers I hold onto my coffee, wordlessly hoping for another school closing. Nope. Pull on the hat, coat and gloves. Head out the door to see the car frozen over. No ice remover, no scraper, just the vents put on overload. Listen to How Stuff Works; I wonder how long it will take. Twenty-one minutes – at least the motor turned over! Drive on to work.

Warm(er) fingers turn the key in the lock; kids are already waiting like a flock of . . . sheep? geese? Oh great. The clocks are all off. Again. I really need more coffee – strike that – I need the whole pot. Okay, who forgot to throw out the grounds? Come on, people! I’m not the only one around here! How much longer? Ten minutes? I guess that’ll work.

Dante and Me

As part of Writing 201: Poetry, we were asked to post our favorite poem.

Being as mine is The Divine Comedy, that would be a bit ambitious, though you can indeed find the full text online.

Now, you could be asking

Why on earth would a guy in his late twenties pick a Late Medieval / Early Renaissance Italian epic known for reflecting medieval Catholic theology as his favorite poem?

Well, I’m glad you asked!

I’ve always liked poetry. I loved learning poems in English class; I was the guy who asked to recite the great Shakespearean soliloquies (and made everyone else hate him for it). Before Dante, my favorite poem was Percy Bysshe Shelley’s Ozymandias:

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shatter'd visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamp'd on these lifeless things,
The hand that mock'd them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains: round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

In college I took a course in Classical and Medieval Lit; what can I say – I wanted to make the most of my liberal arts education. By that time an interest in philosophy and theology and history had taken root. In Dante I found a poet that combined everything I found intriguing. I liked poetry well enough, but Dante made be love it.

Website Powered by WordPress.com.

Up ↑