POEM OF THE DAY: "MY MOTHER"

 

Dear George, 

I don’t know how I got started on it, but recently I’ve been working on a poem titled “My Mother”. It’s been a very engrossing task, and it’s brought back many happy memories. Here’s my current version. 

Love, 

Dave 

                         MY MOTHER 

My mother grew up in the flapper age 

The Roaring Twenties, the Charleston the rage 

Her life path was shaped by that stage 

My mother met my father in school 

She found him charming and cool 

And he felt that she was a jewel 

My mother could have been a Hollywood star 

Her beauty cream was kept in a porcelain jar 

The fairest of the P.T.A. mothers by far 

My mother birthed a girl and three boys 

The boys made commotion and noise 

But she taught the girl style and poise 

My mother was enamored of flowers 

Cultivating her garden for hours 

Her green thumb had wondersome powers 

My mother liked riding a horse 

Which gave her a sense of brute force 

When the stable shut down, much remorse 

My mother was an actress on stage 

Played a tiger who escaped from its cage 

“That’s my mom!” I yelled, three years of age 

My mother was an avid jazz fan 

For her, Louis Armstrong was the man 

Play some Louis, she’d dance the can-can 

My mother took me to my first movie 

“Meet Me in St. Louis,” so groovy 

My most exciting outing as a juvie 

My mother taught us all the birds’ names 

Bird-watching was one of our games 

Wild turkeys and pheasants, our aims 

My mother was a razzmatazz cook 

She mastered Irma’s joyous cookbook 

Broiled whitefish, fresh off the hook 

My mother did La Parlor de Beauty 

The homies, great gossip, never snooty 

Enter frazzled, walk out as a cutie 

My mother enjoyed a big party 

Hanging out with Jackie and Marty 

Costumes, poetry, oil paintings, so arty 

My mother would boat on Green Bay 

Mike and Jean, the whole gang for the day 

Fish Creek and Egg Harbor on the way 

My mother planned a Christmas Eve soiree 

All our cousins came over to play 

Uncle Karl’s fancy gifts made the day 

My mother saved our Irish Setter Mike 

Who fell through the ice on a hike 

She risked her own life for that tyke 

My mother and dad loved their Farm 

She decorated the cabin with charm 

A family escape, safe from harm 

My mother adored Lovey, her cat 

hite Angora and just a smidge fat 

Lovey’d jump on her lap for a chat 

My mother expired in Eighty-Six 

Of afflictions the docs couldn’t fix 

My plan: Meet for lunch near the Styx

IF JEOPARDY CALLS, I'M READY

Dear George, 

My spouse is a Jeopardy addict, tuning in faithfully at 7:30 every weekday evening, so I watch along with her. The part I like best is when host Ken Jennings elicits personal stories from each of the contestants, allowing the audience to know them a bit better. Contestants’ stories are always quirky and amusing. I started thinking about what story I might tell if I were to be on Jeopardy. For a long time I drew a complete blank. This was unsettling since it suggested that my life has been a total bore. Finally I came up with some possibilities. I don’t think I’d win if I were on a Jeopardy show, but I’ve prepared four stories just in case I were to have a winning streak. Here is what I have ready in case Jeopardy happens to call. 

(1) A Driving Lesson 

Ken Jennings: I understand that you weren’t perfect as a new driver. 

Me: So true. I had just turned sixteen. In my very first outing by myself, I drove down Stephenson Avenue and turned right onto Sheridan Road. A couple of blocks later I heard a siren and saw flashing lights behind me. It scared me to death. I was sure I hadn’t been speeding. I pulled over, and the police officer asked if I knew why he’d stopped me. I said I didn’t. He explained that when I turned onto Sheridan I had pulled out right in front of his police car and caused him to run off the road. His car ended up in the M&M Brewery fountain. He explained to me why it is important to look both ways when turning. His message has stuck with me ever since. 

(2) A New Subway Record 

Ken Jennings: So you had an interesting subway experience in New York City. 

Me: Yes, I was twenty years old. While working on a co-op job in New York City, I rented a room in Washington Heights. My friend John asked my landlady about renting her other room, and they got into an argument about whether his girlfriend could visit. The landlady wound up kicking both of us out. It was about ten p.m. We walked around until gunfire in the neighborhood made us uneasy. Thinking it safer, we got on the northbound A-train about midnight but the subway clientele got scary as we neared the South Bronx. Finally we returned to Midtown and got on the shuttle train between Times Square and Grand Central Station, a 5-block trip. We rode the shuttle back and forth till the morning rush hour, perhaps a hundred trips. It might have been a world record. 

(3) Follow the Chemistry Instructions 

Ken: I understand you weren’t the best chemistry student. 

Me: True. When I was taking Inorganic Chemistry in college, the teacher gave us a task of mixing hydrochloric acid with another chemical. He went through the instructions at least five times since, if one mixed the chemicals in the wrong order, they would explode. I probably was daydreaming because, as I began the task, I mixed them in the wrong order. The chemicals exploded, spraying hydrochloric acid into my face and eyes. The teacher rinsed my eyes out, and I was rushed to the college infirmary. Within a few hours large red blisters appeared on both my eyeballs. In danger of losing my vision, I stayed in the infirmary for a week, and by the end, thanks to Mother Nature, my eyes had returned to normal — a huge relief. 

(4) A Brush with Celebrity 

Ken Jennings: What is this about a brush with celebrity in New York City? 

Me: When our J was a teenager, our family would go to Manhattan every Christmas to celebrate with my sister- and brother-in-law. On one trip in the mid-1980’s J and I took a hike in Central Park. We were walking along a path next to Fifth Avenue near the Metropolitan Art Museum, telling stories, joking, and laughing, when I noticed a tall woman in a fur coat watching us and smiling. When we got closer, I realized that it was Jackie Kennedy Onassis. She was apparently taking a walk outside her Fifth Avenue apartment which was right across the street. We exchanged smiles but didn’t say anything. I’m still pleased that Jackie enjoyed her glimpse of father and son having a good time. 

So those are some of my stories so far. All of them are from my younger years. I’ve been trying to think of a good story from the last ten years, but so far I haven’t had any luck. I guess life used to be more adventurous. 

Love, 

Dave