art book cake Lady made 4 Scriptoria’s last open mic
Lady’s wondering why I stopped blogging. Things just got a bit much … had a magic final reading at Michael O’Brien’s used book store Scriptoria in the basement of the 148 year old Zion Church in Tremont – it’s being turned into condos going for maybe half-a-million.
After the reading we got hit on the passenger side of the car, which entails getting estimates and repairs. Passenger door only opens a foot now so Lady crawls out my side when I drive.
Meanwhile we also need to get $300 for rear brakes, our dying then living now day by day MandyCat has us in an emotional Schrodinger’s box, plus the car tires and vet bills have meant no marijuana for months now, while I’m getting nervous about the doctors removing one vertebra from the front of my neck and bolting in two metal rods through the back in three weeks.
Then there’s Lady’s Christmas Eve birthday followed by Christmas followed by New Years, all of which thins the finances and depletes my inner social well.
Other stuff too, you know, basic life stuff, getting through the day where an accused child rapist and admitted sexual predator and thief is now going to become our Degenerate-in-Chief and the massive racism and sexism and bullying such voting reveals in way too many millions of what I formally thought were decent human beings but am obviously grievously wrong.
So I stopped posting. Have 25 new poems written, but felt no need to show them… think I’ll wait until I get out of the hospital with a hard collar around my neck and the metal rods in my neck which accessorize the metal rods in my shoulder and metal rod in my hip before I post the poems to give me something to do in between the pain pills.
But Lady’s asked me to post so here’s the blog starts I’ve let slide.
Conversation with Wife 31
“You’re my Sweetie, you know that?”
Well, they did call me the Calorie
back in my marzipan glaze
I’d ride to the troubles
and folks would shout
We’re saved, here comes the Calorie!
and they would cover me with cinnamon.
– Smith, 12.20.2016
Have a new nickname for MandyCat – going to call her Lazarus. Yesterday was essentially a deathwatch for me… I sat with her for 7 hours, talking to her, telling her to go or stay, whichever was best for her, and twice her breathing stopped, then started up again. After awhile I put the tip of my finger in between her paw pads – sometimes when I do that she squeezes my finger tip like we’re holding hands, but this time she swatted me, and I said whoa, this ain’t over yet. And this morning she’d eaten all her dry food during the night, which she hadn’t eaten in a week, and then demanded tilapia, so I gave her some with another steroid pill in it. She’s still frail and off-balance, but there’s a lot more of her here now. So, ever onward.
Had to do food shopping for our sick cat this morning. Roads covered with 10″ of snow, so I went just down the hill to Walmart, a place we try not to shop due to the damage they do to local businesses and the social service infrastructure (their salaries are so low, many of their employees are on food stamps).
As I headed for the exit, I found a worn $5 bill flat on the floor. Picked it up, with my first thought I’d turn it in. Looked around, no one around. Went looking for a manager. Couldn’t find one. Started thinking this is a lot of time and trouble to turn in a $5 that the original owner wasn’t going to get back anyway because they’d have no idea where they’d lost it.
Thought about leaving, but realized I wouldn’t feel good about myself, and eventually found a young manager, handed him the $5, said “I doubt the owner will ever get this back, but just in case, here.”
Came home, told my story to Lady, she said “You did right.”
“But, the owner isn’t going to get it back, so I just gave Walmart $5 more dollars they don’t deserve.”
“Yes, but you may have affected the manager, he might mention it for a ripple effect.”
“Well basically I did it to make myself feel good, bought myself some self respect with a found $5. Wonder what I would have done if it’d been a hundred dollar bill?”
“Then you would have DEFINITELY returned it because someone needed it and would have come looking.”
“Probably, but folk with $100 bills tend to have more money than they deserve, but you’re right, I couldn’t feel good inside keeping other folk’s money. I’d never make a good politician or CEO. Beside, for $5 returned, I can post this and make myself look good.”
As I headed down the stairs to feed the birds for a second time, since we feed them twice when it’s below 14 degrees, I thought of another possibility – I feel we exist in an aware Universe, no god or anything, just some overall awareness with a wicked sense of humor, and this all could have been nothing more than a pop quiz to see what I’d do.
There’s more but I’m less so done for now.
Except for this. I was sure I’d be rich and famous. Thought so for 50 years now. I’m 70. There’s a vague chance it could still happen, but not likely. But though I’ve not gained acclaim and financial success, I do have a wife who loves me whom I love – we’re each each others favorite person. And we have a magic cat that makes us three. And we’ve fine fine friends, and my in-laws are as good as they come, the poetry and art and fotos flow freely for both Lady and I, and Lady is quite good at what she does, which is design websites, so if I had a chance to trade what I have for money and acclaim, I wouldn’t. I’m rich in love and like, and I cherish that.
me & my 5-month old niece Liberty Lynn Green