Friday, February 26, 2010

The Story of the Day

Don't even think of having a pepperoni pizza on a Friday during Lent, son.

The sauce is watching!

Thursday, February 25, 2010

When a Two Minute Poem Runs 3:25

Congratulations to Marshall, Razoul and Gina for finishing 1-2-3 in last night's slam. In my case slam was Canada's Olympic Hockey Team to my Russia.

I drew first and did a very low energy poem that I thought would make up for the quiet with a burning wit and intensity. What happened was a poem full of bad Pinter pauses. Heck, I even drew a time penalty. I blame myself.

You never know what's going to happen at a slam. What happened after I read took on a life of its own. There were twelve poets in the first round, five judges and sixty total scores. I may be mistaken but there were 27 scores of ten handed out in the first round, that's almost half. An odd night where it seemed poets were given a perfect score for walking on stage. Gina's combined score was a 59.7, and she came in third place overall. Razoul had a 29.8 I think and Marshall had a perfect 60.

Next slam will be different. They all are.

Remembered a little of last night's dream. There was a surprise birthday party held for Scott Woods. Somehow I convinced Kool and The Gang to come play his party. They showed up. Set up their gear. Scott arrived. Was duly surprised. Then suddenly left. I kept asking when he was going to come back, because Kool and The Gang had another show to do later. A show that payed. I kept getting told Scott was coming. He'd be back any minute. Meanwhile the guests are waiting to eat. Kool and The Gang were running out of patience and a kid playing a ukulele left handed became the opening act.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

The Day is Watching

Still in the long process of toilet training my son. He’s been using the toilet at school. They have him on a schedule. When he comes home, it’s social hour. Last night however, he finally pooped in there for me. He’s done it a couple times for my Scottish Wife, but not for me. So yay!

At the public library I keep noticing a new person working there and she looks so familiar, but I can’t place where I’ve seen her. This happens to me a lot. My brain is a mess and it’s difficult for me to recognize people out of context. Finally made the connection after checking my books out, she used to work the circulation desk where I work now. Three years later, a trade is made.

Was informed yesterday that I will be auditioning for a spot at the Columbus Arts Festival, it’s an honor. Will be reading for them next month. I have second place to defend.

Tonight it’s another slam qualifier for Nats, been readying myself for this one. Not sure what I’ll be going with but there are a number of ways to go with my work. As long as I do not over think strategy it’s going to be ok. Expect a scorching night of poetry no matter what. People are hungry.

Monday, February 22, 2010

I don't matter, you don't matter, neither does this mindless clatter

Went to the mens room at work. Standing at the urinal I could hear the guy sitting in a stall. He did not sound happy. Sounded like his girlfriend was breaking up with him, over the phone, while he was sitting on the toilet. It was also the handicapped stall.

Did anyone really need to hear this?

Been doing some more thrifting. Found a replacement glass shade for a lamp that was broken three years ago when a small child tipped it over. Today, a larger child noticed something different about the lamp in the corner and tried to investigate.

Changed the locks on the house last weekend. Now that I own the house completely, it was the right thing to do to ensure that nothing else is taken, physically or photographically. It was time.

When my ex moved out two and a half years ago, in her property grab she took my old little league uniform. Despite my asking on more than one occasion, I've been waiting for her to return it. My mother gave it back to me so that one day she could see her grandson wearing it. She's not getting any younger and has health issues.

In the meantime this may be the puck moving defense man the Blue Jackets need.

Saturday, February 20, 2010

Turn the place to dust

A short rant to start. The Polaris Fashion Place, shopping mall or whatever it calls itself is the most car-centric area in the state of Ohio, perhaps the country. It is also the most convoluted in its design and traffic flow. The roads in and out are inadequate, the parking is not friendly to cars or pedestrians. I wish no harm to the businesses or employees (who must go through Dante's nine circles to commute to work) who work in this location. However, I would like to see them relocated to calmer and more reasonable shopping areas. Then, I would like to see the developers of this monstrosity forced to live in the buildings they created and have a sudden bomb fall on them, turning the place into what City Center is now.

Ok after soup and whisky at Claddagh, also writing here - I feel better.

I've been on a thrift store kick recently. Revamping my trousers due to wear and, full disclosure, a weight gain. I've found an Adidas Columbus Crew sweatshirt for fifty cents and am still searching for the right ironic t-shirt. Today we went to the Goodwill store in Powell, in search of designer cast offs at the right price. I did find a cool shirt, but was so put off by an idiot bluetoother talking to someone like he was on the surface on the moon. After he left there was a father talking to his baby in a carriage as if he was Curly from the Three Stooges. Which would have been fine and cute, if daddy was capable of using an indoor voice. The store is quite small, and everyone in the place was blasted by the baby daddy talk.

The good thing is that I was looking through my Scottish Wife's cds before the mini road trip and found this one.

I had not listened to it yet and a very amused and impressed by what I heard. Melvin by The Belles is worth the price of admission. It's a knockoff of Gloria, and yes, they spell it out!

My Scottish Wife is a music geek who has many, many girl group compilations in her collection. Including this one, which is a sound I've been hearing in my head for years.

In other good news, it was great to get up early today and watch Everton beat up on Manchester United. I went a bit crazy when Rodwell scored the third goal.

Kid's only eighteen and scored his first Premiership goal against Man. U., how awesome is that? Now Sir Gasbag is going to be sniffing at him all summer and offer Moyes all kinds of money for him. Everton creates stars while other teams can only purchase them.

Friday, February 19, 2010

The Teabaggers Have Lost Their Air Force

How many poor people do you know have a pilot's license, let alone their own plane? Very sad incident. His wife and child get to clean up his mess. Selfish man.

Watched a silent called The Crowd last night. It's hailed as one of the best silent dramas. I thought it was a very good one. Beautifully photographed and directed by King Vidor. It shows off New York City in the same light that Woody Allen did in Manhattan. The Crowd is a depiction of being a smaller than small fish in a huge pond. Being a speck in the corporate world and trying to get ahead in it. Struggling to support a family. Had it not been for an amateur and over blown performance by James Murray, the lead actor, I think The Crowd could be a contender for one of the best American films ever made, instead of merely a very good one.

Then there's the story of the death (not death) of Gordon Lightfoot yesterday. I was duped. While I did not purchase any of his music on iTunes or Amazon, I did reserve a copy of Gord's Gold from the library. Hey, If You Can Read My Mind is still a fine song, dead or alive.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Snow Day

It's a rare day when the large Midwestern land grand university closes, but today was one of them. I think it's only closed seven times in the last thirty years.

Spent a bit of the day shoveling out, watching my kid play with his remote control truck, cuddling with the people in the house, watching Everton beat Sporting Lisbon in Europa League play.

Also had one of those aha(!) musical discoveries. A quartet from Norway. I do not know too much about them, but I've liked the videos I've seen.


Monday, February 15, 2010

Some girls will tell you anything...

Lead singer Doug Fieger of the Knack, died yesterday of cancer. He was 57.

The first album made high school suck less. The second record was a wash out. The third, Round Trip, was an under promoted masterpiece. He also sang with Was (Not Was) on a few songs. His brother, Geoffrey, is an attorney who represented Jack Kevorkian.

A somewhat productive weekend. Some good thrifting was done. Locks were changed with minimal cussing.

If you watch the Olympics today, send some love out to American Luger Erin Hamlin. She's the niece of a friend of mine.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Things that are here, things that are on the way

My friend Susan an an article on siblings and autism in today's New York Times Magazine. You can read it here.

She also has a book coming out in March.

Another friend, Sujatha Hampton, has her first book coming out on Tuesday.

I'm surrounded by writers doing big things. Using their talents to change lives, including their own.

Nothing beats going up in front of a billion people though.

I have a chapbook. The pages were stapled together, by me.

One step at a time.

Friday, February 12, 2010

Bob Costas Said 'Slam Poet'

I do not know Shane Koyczan, but he just went on a podium in the middle of the opening ceremonies for the Olympics, in front of an audience of hundreds of millions and did this poem.

And he nailed it!

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Admitting What I've Already Admitted

About three years ago Scott Woods wrote a poem. The circumstances behind the poem are not important. The title; "They Hate Your Poem." It's a very energetic poem, one that gets a strong reaction when he reads it. It's a riot. A certain twelve letter word involving an act with a mother is used frequently.

I love that poem. At the time I was going though some rather intense personal, life and internet drama - some things that happen when a marriage falls apart. There were sock puppets, fake people invented, threats with no teeth and all kinds of weird stuff was swirling all over the place. The term 'They Hate Your Blog' fell into my brain.

I never denied where this poem came from, it's a homage, tribute, deliberate theft. Scott wrote it first though, and better. I last did it at Arts Fest last year. It's fun to bring out once in a awhile. This is the sanitized version. You can guess the word.

They Hate Your Blog

Those two jerkwads hate your blog
They go all over town with their precious laptops
And on wireless connections in coffeehouses and music halls
They'll sit and talk to each other about how much they hate your blog

They'll start private blogs
That they only know about and post, only to each other
Just how much they hate your blog

They'll lock a journal post or screen comments
Because they want to hide from the world
Just how much they hate your blog

Those two jerkwads will comment anonymously on your blog
Or make up a sock puppet and comment to you in your blog
or one of your friend's blogs
Just how much they hate your blog

They'll talk to each other,
late at night on the telephone
While sitting at their computers
Texting on their Blackberrys
Talking about how much they hate your blog
While writing about how much they hate your blog

They'll make a post about how much
They hate your blog
Then delete it once they know you have read it
Because those two jerkwads have too much time on their hands
And those two jerkwads hate your blog

They'll list, as a user interest
"Hating your blog"
But they will not name you
Even though they know you know how much
They hate your blog

They'll even make up a screen name called
"I hate your blog"
Or start a Facebook group about how much they hate your blog
Just because they hate your blog

They hate your blog so much they've been making up captions
of those dumb ass LOLCATS
"I am watching U, H8ING YUR BLOGZ"

They'll even make up a screen name called
"I hate your blog"
Or start a meme about how much they hate your blog
Just because they hate your blog

Those two jerkwads don't just hate your blog
But your friends blogs
Your family's blogs
Your coworkers blogs
If your goldfish had a blog
They'd hate that too
Because those two jerkwads hate your blog

They even wrote a haiku
About how much they hate your blog

We are two jerkwads
We really, really, really
Hate your blog, a lot

Those two jerkwads can't even write a decent haiku
Because they're too busy hating your blog

Here's a blog post about the music you like
Hated it

Here's a blog post about your kid
Hated it

Here's a blog post about your job
Hated it

Here's a blog post about the Buckeyes
Hated it

Here's MY blog post about those two jerkwads
Who hate your blog

Never quite figured out how to end it, but the silence and walking off the stage is better than the word "Fail" which is becoming as overused as "My bad."

Monday, February 8, 2010

Well, What Are You Really Going to Do About It?

Pulled off another amazing stunt and refinanced the house all by my lonesome. No one can honestly approach or stop me!

Lowered the interest rate and the payment! It took a few long months, but it is done now.

I'm Philippe Petit baby.

With completed taxes.

No More Talking Babies!

A surprisingly good Super Bowl last night. The Saints showing us that turnovers are important. The win is not going to rebuild the city, but if it makes people happy for awhile so be it.

The commercials were blah. A lot of animals were used. What's with the implied interspecies love going on? The groundhog was getting in on with a high tech fashion babe in a hot tub in the back of a limo. Creepy.

The Tebow ad was understated. Why did NOW complain about that and not the go daddy ad?

The moment Roger Daltrey opened his mouth and a rasp came out I knew the halftime show was in trouble. Can the NFL find a band where the lead singer is not 66 years old for next year's show? Please, enough British dinosaur acts, find an American one. Why not Van Halen? Give Beyonce a shot. I would not be surprised if it were Green Day.

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Snowpocolypse Now

Here on the west side, at least where I live, there was about six inches of snow. Other outlets are saying 9.5 inches.

The ex survived her surgery.

Blue Jackets coach Ken Hitchcock was fired on Wednesday. Claude Noel is the interim coach. We had planned on attending Thursday's game against Dallas. I was curious to see how the team and the crowd would act the first game of a new era. The team was pretty tentative, but not unconfident as they tried to impress the new dad.

The Dallas goaltender was Marty Turco.

I've seen a lot of hockey games and players over the years on a college and professional level. One of the few players I hate is Marty Turco.

Back when he played for Michigan, the team would always and I mean always kick Ohio State's ass. They owned them. Everyone knew it. What bugged me is that Michigan always took their dominance as a reason to be arrogant jerks. Like calling the old OSU ice rink a venue unfit for college hockey. At the Fairgrounds Coliseum, there was only one entrance to the rink and Michigan would go out of their way to enter the rink through a different door than Ohio State, as if the door had cooties. Fans who would approach the booth where the music was played during stops in the action, demanding that the Michigan fight song be played.

So many other reasons.

And Turco was in the middle was all this.

There was the end of Michigan dominance, when OSU finally beat them. When Turco left the net during the 1998 CCHA regionals and Todd Compeau fought him for the puck, took it from Turco and fired it into the Michigan net. A beautiful thing.

You have no friends Marty Turco.

So it was great to see Turco lose, this time to the Blue Jackets.

Steve Mason looked good in net. Poor guy has had a horrible sophomore season. Maybe this is the game that will put him back on the good path. But I've said that this year, too many times.

Blue Jackets play the Sabres tonight.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Memo Tuesday

Dear 670,

Thank you for having that bump on you that I did not see in the dark on Sunday night. Your shoddy skin bent the rim on my tire, and also shredded it.

No Love,


Dear Bank,

Remember what I asked you three months ago that you did not answer? You’d better have a response for me soon. One that is closer to a number I gave you.

Awaiting Your Response,


Dear Surgeons,

Remember what happened to Andy Warhol? Don’t do that on Friday, ‘k?

I Applaud Your Skill in Advance,


Dear Son,

Poop in the toilet, please,