Time to apply yourself

Poets, the application for the 2014 Columbus Arts Festival is now live!



You can apply here through January 24th.

Looking forward to another exciting and engaging weekend of work from everything. I'm excited!

This is the post where I talk about Arts Fest

If I leave you out do not be offended. This was such an amazing whirlwind of a weekend that it's impossible to thank or give mention and praise to everyone. This is going to be quite the random entry.

First off. I want to thank Gina Blaurock for being a great member of the Word is Art Committee. She went to more meetings that me for heaven's sake! She made herself available. Her insight, taking hits for the team and being a friend shows what an asset she is to the Columbus poetry community.

Speaking of community. Columbus, you stepped up. It was so great to see such a diverse section of the city come to the Arts Festival. Not only as poets, but as spectators and supporters. The crowds were great all weekend long, even on Friday night when I froze my ass off the last two hours because I forgot a sweatshirt. That was one of the two mistakes I made this weekend, the other buying a corn dog that cost six bucks.

Friday got off to a shaky start when the theater people did not show up. Then one of the member's of the Writers Guild could not make it. I have to say the kids from Flip the Page turned things around, brought a great crowd and youthful energy to the stage.

Secrets of Oshun was great. From the group piece opening they had the crowd, but when Izetta Thomas did her first solo piece, the area froze. Even the vendors stopped to pay attention. They had to, Izetta was on this weekend. All weekend long.



Then Kim Brazwell came on, told her tales of intestinal woe, killed the crowd and dropped the mic. She's incredible.

I was physically miserable during Page Meets Stage but Louise Robertson moderated a very cool poetry session between Jennifer Hambrick and Scott Woods.

Day two, Saturday, started out with more promise. The weather held up. The riverfront looked amazing. The place was packed. The beverage booths ran out of wine and margaritas. Art and food was being sold. Poetry was again heard.



Amy Dalyrmple of the Writers Guild did a reading about her special needs daughter that was quite moving and real.

There was a terrific early set by Michael Stout as I think he read all of his short poems!

If I had to pick a favorite set this weekend it was by John Gibson. I always like the man's work and as he was shuffling through his papers I suggested he read one of his nostalgia poems about Columbus, which he did, and it went over very well. A person came over to me and asked me who his name was. Yes, he was that good.

As I said at the start on Saturday. All of the poets who appeared on stage earned that spot during the auditions, and they proved their worth during their sets. Some poets have different energy levels than others. Some poems have different reactions when read to a small group of people in an enclosed room versus an open space of people strolling by while gnawing on a turkey leg.

Here is where I thank Wali Crowder for representing and hosting the show for a couple of hours in the afternoon. His energy was great and much appreciated.

T.M. Gottl gave the day a strong sense of justice and humanity with her work, which I do not get to hear enough of as she from the northeast part of Ohio.

Fred Kirchner left the mic, went to the front of the stage and brought out his yo-yo, shouting his poem the whole time. Beautiful.



Will Evans did an absolutely hilarious poem about doing repair work around the house when his infant daughter is in motion around him. Fatherhood has helped with his sense of humor and it's great to see it unfold on and off stage.

Hayden Brown brought his entire class over, it seemed, and delivered a set that had people paying attention. All weekend long it was great to watch the crowd, and see the people stop in their track to listen. Some even ended up grabbing a seat.

James Aaron Techumseh Sinclair has what may be the longest name of any poet to appear at the Columbus Arts Festival. He wore a skirt, was very secure in his delivery. He was also the second runner up. It may have been a bit cerebral for such an open space and stage, but his methods and words were quite precise. It was his first set in at least twenty years. Wonder how he was back in the grunge era?

Meg Freado is a joy to listen to. The first runner up. I'm not to familiar with her work, but her energy and words are quite moving. A poem she wrote for her father's wedding was quite impressive.

And our Champion, Izetta Nicole Thomas, was so wonderful and on point. Delivering a set of schoolyard sentimentality with the wisdom of a talented teacher. This was her weekend.

To close Saturday, Scott Woods hosted a slam that was as every bit hilarious as it was entertaining. I cannot say how engaging Scott was with the audience. He put together an hour that was as every bit perfect as it was irrelevant. Ethan Rivera danced, Izetta had things thrown at her, Rocky Horror style, and I got a four.



Sunday, today, was another gorgeous day on the riverfront. It got hot. But our first poet, from The (OSU) Journal was a cat who never read his poetry in public before, and he did an amazing job.

Hanif Abdurraquib took over emceeing at this point and did a great job interacting with Gumby and name checking the music that was played during breaks. We also had a great sound man all weekend. Joe was there when he had to be and did his best to keep good levels despite shouting poets and one or two vendors complaining about the noise. Sometimes poets shout, especially when they're in a wide open space, it can't be helped.

Hannah Stephenson and her poets from Paging Columbus did a fine job keeping the energy going.

I love what the Storytellers of Central Ohio do. There were six of them and they really are quite entertaining, with good humor. One of them recited Casey at the Bat, off paper. Yes, awesome!

The Docents at Thurber House were brief, but did some good work. One of the youth told a short story about war that was quite emotional and he even did some singing. Brave when your voice is wavering. It was great to have The Thurber House involved in this year's festival. I really wanted to get some kids involved in the weekend and Meg Brown has been very accommodating in getting her charges to the stage after school has let out for the summer.

The people at Wild Goose Creative finished off the year with a gentle goose. Fun stories in a speak easy session. I can't thank Andy Anderson and his crew enough for being involved again.

A few more shout outs before I close this rambling thing out.

Louise Robertson did a great job helping vet the initial entries. Her insight has been an asset to the whole committee this year and I'd be in very bad shape if she did not provide sunscreen yesterday.

Alex Fabrizio also helped with the vetting of the initial entries. She's been busy with a major move but her presence was very welcome and she did a fine job organizing her poets from The Journal.

Steph Killen lent us her music stand for the weekend. Thank you!

Beverly Wilkinson hung out with us for most of the first two days. She's dedicated and delivered a fine set of work Saturday afternoon.

My wife, Emma, has taken in a lot of venting and my stress about this for many months. She watched my son while I was out attending meetings and more. None of this could have happened without her help. And she delivered me lemon shake-ups all weekend long!

Finally I doubt I would even be in this position without Scott Woods. He was the one who recommended I join the committee last year and it spring boarded into me being committee chair this year. His expertise, advise and consult has been a great help to me this year during this process. I've never been in charge of shepherding anything like this before. So thank you, Scott.

Again, we did this.

The swingback

It was the day reservations for a road trip in July came through, details were worked out seamlessly - I made a Facebook comment about waiting for the other shoe to drop.

A week or so later my son was in the hospital, a relative was hospitalized on the east coast and a friend's father died.

That's life, I guess. It's not doing good things for my blood pressure though.

The better news is that all of the poets in the Columbus Arts Festival have been contacted that they have, or have not, won a slot on the Word is Art Stage. I'm waiting for the Festival to officially release the names and schedule, I will tell you it's very a very talented and diverse group of poets. There are veterans, rookies and members of the slam scene who have not read at Arts Fest. I'm really excited for June to get here.

Waiting for scores and other numbers

There's been a lot of activity with and around me the past week. Some of the busy has been positive and beneficial, some has been stressful and have given me guilt.

The latter is tough to write about, I'm neither ready nor comfortable telling it here - a story that may not be over. I've said it before and I'll say it again though - distance is hard.

In three nights we took in two hockey games. The first was to see the Blue Jackets play Chicago.



The Blue Jackets have been on a roll recently. They have earned a point in ten straight games, a franchise record. The game with the Black Hawks was number nine of that streak. It was a very tense, well played and entertaining game. Both teams played well and the game was tied at one at the end of regulation. A crazy overtime in which both teams played for the extra point was a thrill to watch and it was a shame the Blue Jackets lost in a shoot out. I hate the shoot out, win or lose.

Saturday night we headed to the olde Ohio State Ice Rink to see game two of a playoff series between Ohio State and Ferris State.



It's a small barn, the ice rink. The ceiling is low and play stops when the puck hits it, which happened at least twice on Saturday night. You're right next to the game and can hear everything that happens on the ice. You can also be heard if your lungs are in good shape. I went here a lot in the late 90's, during the team's frozen four run of 1998. A lot of memories, most of them pretty good.



My wife had never seen a game here. It's tough when you're used to seat backs and video replay, but the old experience came back and I rolled with the change and had a great time watching OSU force a third game, which is happening as I write this. (3-2 OSU in the third period)



The winner of the series goes to the CCHA tournament at the Joe Louis Arena next weekend, the last games the CCHA will have.

Edit: Ohio State wins and goes to the Joe!



Saturday also had the poetry auditions for the Columbus Arts Festival. The poets were excellent and represented such a diverse element of the talent Columbus and Ohio has. Announcements of who made it will be out soon. I've been working on the math and am very excited with who is going to be on the Word is Art Stage in June. You will not want to miss this!

Somewhere between 50 and 75

The deadline for applying for the Columbus Arts Festival has passed. If you submitted your poems, thank you. I'm fairly certain there were a record number of applicants this year.

You know what that means, right?

Competition is going to be tough. Any poet appearing on that stage is going to earn that spot. And if that poet earns it, it should be considered a big accomplishment. In the past, sometimes it may have felt like a rubber stamp to appear at the Arts Festival. That anyone and everyone who submitted and auditioned got a slot. Not so this year, not even close. This also means that the quality of poetry on The Word is Art Stage is going to be exceptional. This was a goal, and it's going to be achieved once the auditions are completed.

I had a number of applicants in mind when I started, and got a chuckle in return so I lowered my sights and the final number came in between the original and revised numbers. I'm very pleased.

Speaking of record numbers, for some reason January 2013 has had a record number of page views here. Thanks to all of you for stopping by, wherever you are.

What I have not put in Facebook status updates or tweets.

I was at a Barnes and Noble recently, looking through the magazine rack I noticed about half a dozen soccer magazines, none of which were there when I worked there six years ago. I know print has changed, but you know the subject is gaining in popularity.

During last month's storm, the gutter on the front of my house was partially ripped out and hung there in the snow and ice. No way I was going up there. No way a repairman was going up there. Luckily it hung on until the snow and ice melted and I was pleased to find out it was repaired yesterday afternoon. Yes, I have to pay for it, but it's peace of mind.

This last month has been a struggle. Grief is all around me, and it's hard.



I really do not give a shit about who has and who has not been inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame this year.

Hey, we've extended the deadline to apply to read at the 2013 Columbus Arts Festival. Poets, you have until January 28th to submit. You can do that here. It's quick, fun, and free. Showcase your work in one of the coolest venues the city offers you.

Poetry 2012, what I remembered

I doubt that I'm going to write anything close to Howl in the next week so here's a recap of 2012, from the poetic view.

Not sure how much original work of any quality I wrote. Work was done, most of it average at best. I did finish my first sestina, not saying it's decent but I completed one.

I was published a couple of times. Once online by New Verse News about the wedding of Kim Jong Un and in Night Ballet Press' - Buzzkill: Apocalypse - An End of the World Anthology. This was good news and showed some growth. More hard work is needed though.

The film Street Poet was so horrible we gathered and took the piss out of it one afternoon at the library. It inspired my poem, Kabuki Condom, that helped me win only my second poetry slam.

A more memorable gathering of poets occurred in March on the steps of the Main Library as we celebrated a Great Day in Columbus as the snow smacked us all in the face.

I made three appearances on the show Speaking of Poetry this year talking about autism, IWPS and phoning in to give Izetta a goodbye Haiku.

Writers' Block brought on the usual shenanigans and coy racism along with new regular Erik the Viking, his height, his Mormonism and wind sex. It was also awesome to see Aaron appear in his first Grand Slam.

One of the big surprises for me was winning my second IWPS title and representing Writers Block in Fayetteville. I was a bit nervous and not as pumped as I could have been but being in the coolness of Fayetteville rejuvenated my enthusiasm. That and I was 28th after the first night! Ended up falling into 45th out of 67 but I had an absolute blast. So happy to have this experience under my belt.

The other big surprise was getting involved with the Columbus Arts Festival as a volunteer. Working with such a great group of people was inspiring. Then I was asked to be the Chair of the Poetry Committee for 2013. I'm humbled Scott Huntley and Shana Scott have so much trust in me. A good group of people are on the committee and I'm excited to be working with them. And hey poets you can apply to appear on stage right here!

Been a heck of a year, looking forward to Arts Fest and what the rest will bring.

In closing I urge you to give a listen to this. Jack McCarthy on IndieFeed.

A switch is on

Got the good news this morning that the online link to apply to read on the Word is Art Stage at the 2013 Columbus Arts Festival went live.

This is exciting news. It lets me know that it's time to really start promoting the event. Been working hard on getting a committee together, have some great people on it already and can always use a few more. Organizing a festival schedule is tough, but we have a few groups penciled in on Friday and Sunday.

But Saturday, this is the individual part of the Arts Festival. Over 20 poets are going to get to shine on a stage in front of a great potential audience, in a gorgeous setting on the Columbus downtown riverfront.

And here is the link to apply.

Get on this poets! I'd love to see submissions from all over, to have an incredibly deep pool of poets to select an amazing group of talent who will represent themselves on stage in June.

Addicted to sports

Last night at open mic I read a sports poem that was filled with a ton of references to losses I have experienced as a viewer. I freely admit to watching little television, but sports, I watch. Often. It probably is a crappy poem, but it made me feel better while writing it and putting it out there.



Later in the night, during a break, I was part of a quartet poets who were talking about video games. Well two of them were, the other guy and I just kind of looked at each other and nodded along.

I'm not a gamer. I have enough addictions to know how to avoid this one. But one of the poets was talking about a gaming experienced he had. He was riding a horse and having wonderful adventures with the horse and was going home to his virtual wife and kid. Coming down the mountain he heard a roar. It was a bear, and it suddenly killed his horse. The poet was in tears.

And that is what my poem was about.

IWPS - Final verse

The alarm woke me on Saturday morning and I felt horrible. I wish I could say I was hungover, but I did not have any booze the night before.

Took a quick shower and got soaked on the way to Little Bread. Got a bagel with cream cheese, coffee, and a chocolate croissant then headed back to the room to follow the morning's soccer action.

Happily, I found a great audio link via talksport.com to get a live audio stream of all of the matches. Free!

But this is not about Everton getting a draw at Wigan.

The food did not make me feel better, it was not staying in its place for the right amount of time. Lied down and tried to sleep some before J.W. Bazillo's workshop. It was not going to happen.

Ended up watching Arkansas beat Auburn, hey Auburn are really terrible!

Began to feel a little better, possibly able to leave the room without need for a restroom every fifteen minutes so I went to Rogue to check out the comedy open mic.

It was hosted by The Klute, a wickedly funny guy sporting a fez. I signed up, ended up going first and read Spam Folder of Love.

I have no idea how it went over. There were not many people there at first. By the time I was to read again there were more people. I got called up and read An Obscene Phone Call From Mr. Potato Head. This was better received, I think.

There was some wit with a bite, as a work poem by a guy named Toaster demonstrated. Ethan did Toast and river danced on the stage. The second half was much improved on the first.

Felt even better so I went to the Hawg Haus for a burger and some bourbon before headed to finals.

Four of the finalists I had been in bouts with during the tournament. Three of them in my Friday night bout. I thought the quality of the work in these finals was much higher than what I saw in Berkeley. Most of the poets were outstanding. More on that in a bit.

Thuli Zuma's work is heartbreakingly beautiful. Her second poem about feeling guilt for the color of her skin knocked me out. 6 is 9 did a frantic and clever reading about cocaine and why it really became illegal. Franny Choi's Letter from Jessica Alba to Her Father turned the tables on some cliches. Seth Walker's poem from the persona of a tree that tries to prevent a suicide was an amazing example of body use in performance poetry. He also came up to the stage for his third poem, realized he had the wrong paper - ran back to his seat, found the right paper and sprinted back to the stage. Yes, there was a time penalty! It was a pleasure seeing G. Yamazawa on finals stage as he had been in both my bouts.

Ed Mabrey won it all, by just a tenth of a point over Thuli. So close! Ed was one of the first poets I saw in open mic in Columbus in 2006. The man has a voice, a set of pipes that always amaze me. It was so cool to be on the same stage with him on Friday and then to see him win his second IWPS title.

One poet has evoked some controversy. She read a letter to a person who raped her friend. The accused rapist was a poet in the room. I've been thinking a lot about this over the past couple of days. Read more than a few Facebook status updates and a good blog about building a safe poetry scene. Still have not really come to a conclusion. Not sure if that was exactly the right forum for this to be read. Not sure if it was the perfect forum. Wondering what an audience member, who may have been attending their first poetry slam thought about the poem. Would continually seeing poets beefing on other poets bring an increased audience of non poets into slam events or open mics?

There's a lot to digest. A lot of conversation is still necessary concerning safe spaces for women in poetry. It's ugly, but should not and can not be hidden.

But it's not going to be solved on social media sites.

Here's the part where I name drop the cool people I met. It's hard for me to meet people. I'm not an extrovert and rarely engage in deeper talk with people I have just met. Introducing myself to new people, even if we're in the same field, terrifies me.

I'll start with my driver, Josh. Thanks for the ride, and the tour on the way to Fayetteville from the airport. Your volunteering was much appreciated by many.

The people of the Little Bread Company. Your spirit and support of poetry was well respected. The baked goods you make are nothing short of delicious on a level that is not of this world. I have no idea if I ever will return to Fayetteville. But if I do, keep a cream puff for me. And if anyone reading this has to go to Fayetteville, you must go here!

Greg Bee. I met him at the Last Chance Slam, which he won. Such a kind and open man. A poet with a huge heart. He's an older poet and we bonded over being of a certain age, and in slam. Not too many of us out there.

Elizag. Another poet of a certain age. I did not realize she was from my home state. She reads tough. She talks smart. She's just getting started and is eager to learn. Maybe we will start the poets over 45 support group!

Leah Noble Davidson. Another poet just getting started. She has a farm girl's style and the soul of someone very wise. I predict we're going to read big work from her.

Jesse Parent. I wish we talked more. I had no idea he was Sonnets the Clown at Extreme Championship Poetry until he took the wig off. I still have not seen him read. This has to change.

Dogmatic. Saw him read and the comedy open mic and we had a good conversation about funny poems at the after party.

Wish I stayed more at the after party, but it was a smoking bar and I had not been in one in years. My eyes were freaking out on me.

Jenith Charpentier. Another first time poet at a national event. She asked me to take pictures of some good luck charms her daughters made for her. How could I refuse?

Cynthia French. It was good to finally meet her and see her skate around during Extreme Championship Poetry. She also read some good work at the comedy open mic.

Tapesty. Read some of the most gut revealing work I've experienced at a slam. This man has been in war and told stories. Deeply revealing. Then he plays Jack Deadman at Extreme Championship Poetry. Very cool!

Stephen Sargent. Energetic man from Austin. We met during his first bout, which was after mine on Friday. Pleasure to watch him work the stage.

The Klute. Bill Campana suggest I meet him. I think if I saw Klute and Campana together I'd need to wear diapers. These two are extremely dark, funny men. I was honored to be asked to be an audience of one for him rehearsing his one minute piece.

And I again thank Ethan Rivera for making himself available for me to vent my stress at him during my first bout. He did not have to be there, but it was good to have a person I actually knew for assistance.

Thanks to everyone at Writers' Block, especially Louise Robertson and Scott Woods, who dealt with my angst filled emails. And a big thanks again to everyone who assisted me financially. Give me time to get cds and other gifts together.

The biggest thanks goes to my wife, my biggest supporter, who painted the living room in my absence and watched my son while I was out of town. I love you.

To all the organizers, drivers, names I have mistakenly omitted and volunteers of IWPS: a big thank you and well done. I admit to being skeptical about having to go to Fayetteville, but came away really enjoying the community. You have a great scene.

Got back yesterday after a delay in leaving that required a push back of my flight from Atlanta. No other problems. Even had the exit seat legroom on the trip home. Shared the row with a young man who works for Abercrombie & Fitch, whose travel reading was the latest by Tucker Max. No fight broke out, we talked about our fantasy football teams.

Where the wrapper be

Last night was one of the best open mics at Writers’ Block in sometime. Really.

A virgin poet started out the night in amazing fashion by ripping through a Viking poem that had nothing to do with Erik the Viking, but everything to do with conference calls. Seriously, one of the best debut poems since The Chet.

Virgin two did a powerful piece about losing a friend to drugs.

Richard from Cincinnati did a love poem, with Jesus twist.

Rose Smith sizzled. Had keys thrown at her.

There was a Sean Barber sighting! And Sean relived the olden days that never happened by reading a poem accompanied by Scott Woods on piano.

Joe! Read a train poem that had nothing to do with the train derailing, but everything to do with life’s metaphors.

A third virgin, Meg, was quite sensual.

Karen read. Yes. Karen read a tale about the Grove City bull calf that reminded me of Noel Harrison’s Young Girl.



A Quad of virgins read on the stage. Alexis called it a four course meal. A young lady read a poem in front of her Aunt and Uncle. It was about Twix and all the things you could do with it, I think. I was waiting for mention of the crunchy middle.

There was also a slam that Gina won. Wal-i came in second and I showed. Great night all around.

Note to self: Rehearse

Actually remembered a dream from last night, a woman I know only through Facebook was running for some sort of elected city office here in Columbus. That is odd in itself because said person does not live in Columbus, nor, to my knowledge, is she a U.S. citizen. She was miffed that she lost and that she did not have much support from women in her district. I tried to commiserate by saying that if she ran for office in the district just south of her there were plenty of women I could have recommended for her to get some help from.



As usual, I do not know what this means but it may be some subconscious spill over from the past Women of the World poetry slam conversations that have been happening. A couple of epic threads about coaching and safety were posted. There have been some interesting points raised. The points matter, if you get them I guess.

Last night Writers’ Block had another qualifying slam for the National Poetry Slam team. Since I can’t go I’m not competing but I offered to be the sacrificial poet last night. The poet who reads to calibrate the judges, then goes off into the night to heckle.

The poem I read needs a lot more editing, but I still gave it shot. It’s a poem I wrote about living in Columbus that other poets have also done, to varying success. Stumbled in a couple of places I should not have, made light of it while stumbling. Not a great moment and it got the 25.8 it deserved. Could have done better, knew it, and moved on.

At the end of the night a man came up to me, thanked me for the poem and asked for a copy of it. You never know, even after what you may think is a mediocre performance your words do have an effect on people. That is a good thing to take after an evening.

Recovering

My wife and are are both on the mend from what is being called the Great Poet Flu of 2012. We're thinking Scott Woods is Case Zero, as he was ill for some time. Was he recovered enough at Poet Picture Day last Sunday???

Right after that three people, at least three people who were on the library steps last Sunday became violently ill. Teri, Paula, and my wife.

On Monday night my wife caught the bug. It was not pretty. She was out of commission on Tuesday and Wednesday.

Thursday morning I woke up with a headache and became light headed. Called off work, called my ex to ask if she's put our son on the bus because I did not want him to catch anything, and went back to bed. It got worse after I woke up around noon. I did not eat anything and only had water and a couple of glasses of ginger ale for about thirty six hours. Took Friday off work and found I could eat, a little bit.

While all of this is going on, Scott Woods is in his world of Schadenfreude, clicking "Like" on status updates in which I mention my illness. He posted comments of nothing but laughter and went as far as suggesting that, if Facebook let him, he would type his gleeful comments in a larger font. I guess he did not have a seven year old to beat in chess that afternoon. Such is life when you have a nemesis.

Improved even more over the weekend, a weekend I have my son so I'm worried about him catching this, whatever it is.

He's been good. Very into his own business of jumping on his bed and having adventures in his room with Bob the Cucumber and Larry the Tomato. He even closed the door to his room.

Downstairs, he rediscovered his books and pulled them off the shelf in a flourish last night. A few minutes ago he did some organizing on the floor.



There's also a line of five more books at a ninety degree angle, but I do not want to include the ugly living room chair in the photo. Now, with the time change, he has energy at new times. Daylight savings time messes with him, he pounced out of bed right after I put him there. He's not happy.

While grocery shopping today we came across the closeout cart that Kroger puts out from time to time. Most of the time we look, and move on. Today though they had a box of what was depicted on the box as wine glasses.



In my world wine glasses have stems. So you can swirl the wine in the glass. So you do not get finger prints on the glass while looking at the color. So you do not warm up a white wine with your hand any faster.

Now I understand the reasoning for a stemless glass. A friend in the biz said it was great if you're outside on a windy day and I get that. Sure, it eases breakage in restaurants but if I am paying eight bucks for a glass of wine there had better be a glass with a stem!

Anyway, the glasses (set of four) were marked down to three bucks so we bought them. I'm just going to say they're for juice.

Good thing I do not have Super-8

While looking at yesterday's pictures and other people's pictures of yesterday's picture taking I got the energy up to put together a slideshow.

We put some Fairy Dust on it

It was a somewhat productive day yesterday. I took advantage of my auction win and went into the studio with Sean FM.

I got slightly lost and confused trying to find his house, but as I doubled back he was waiting at his front door for me. He probably saw me about to pass out from heatstroke or something. It had been about two years since I had been in any type of studio. The last time was for a narration I did for a work project. This was the first time I was going in with my own stuff in many years.

Love the basement studio. The recording room is a room within a storeroom. I call it, The Quilted Womb.



In about two and a half hours, I banged out a baker’s dozen of my poems.

What can I say about Sean’s skills as a producer? At one point he said, “Let’s take a break.” He then played up some of the poem I was recording and pointed out a few difficulties in my delivery. Sean was telling me I was reading it wrong, in the nicest, most supportive way anyone has ever been.

More important, he was right.

He offered tips, advice, and cheered me on when I hit the mark. He is great to work with and I recommend him highly to any poet or artist looking for a producer.

He can be my George Martin or T-Bone Burnett anytime. He has to do some editing to turn me into a Wall of Sound and I'm looking forward to the finished work.

So? Once the editing is done and I have an audio project, how do I market this? Hell I do not even have a title for it!

In other news I noticed that another artist died this weekend. This man touched the lives of many of my friends. Rest in peace, David Blair.

Avoiding the Vitriol

Alright May, you're just like April with the rain. Knock it off!

Already knew this but it became magnified yesterday that this country is not over 9/11. I have no idea what it's going to take for this country to move ahead but it was not the death of Bin Laden. Even his death kept the divide going. I'm not sad the guy's been killed, but I'm not wrapping myself in the flag and jumping into Mirror Lake over it either.

Been thinking, writing, goofing off the last few days. After a conversation in a bar I'm wondering what poets in this town say about me behind my back. Still processing that part of the weekend.

Been in contact with my high school graduating class on the Facebook. There's a group forming for the 30th anniversary reunion later this year. A lot of pictures. I put one up of my fifth grade class, the only class picture I think I own. There were comments praising the teacher. The guy made my life a living hell for a year so I kept quiet. I'm not going to be the one to harsh others reflective buzz.

In good news my first college roommate found me through Facebook. Been trying to find him for years so it's been good to be catching up.

In very sad news a good friend's mother died. A sudden diagnosis of cancer and it stinks being so far away.

The little guy is good. Fell asleep at nine last night and slept through the night. Must have been tired. Swimming has been going great. He's going underwater a lot, opening his eyes up big. He's going to be swimming underwater any time now. Time to make sure he's finishing breakfast.

All in all, all is well. Now about that sun. Time to make an appearance, sometime this month.

A Long Post About Several Things

Been a good run these past few days. A lot of poetry, friends, and driving.

Wednesday night Kafe Kerouac was packed as the Win and You're In slam went down. Teams from Cleveland, Detroit and two from Columbus went head to head. I'm not sure about the scoring, I was busy keeping time, but Cleveland won with some solid poems.



Again, I've seen the place crowded before, with people on stage sitting, but this was a serious standing room only crowd, and it was amazing!

Friday night's First Draft had Columbus' own Rose Smith doing a feature of all new work.



A couple of powerful poems about a father trying to keep his children fed and about how Obama needs to tighten up really moved me. Great work.

I did a new piece after a one word prompt Scott Woods gave me back in November. It's called Gaythiest and I thought it went over very well.

Later the was a white guy (stay with me, there's a reason I'm calling his skin color) who none of us had never seen hanging around. He paid his admission, got on the list. When he took the stage he simply started taking, no paper, about hospitals, emergency rooms then he dropped the N-bomb. N-please to be a bit more specific. It was some weird unfunny Seinfeldian routine that ended with him saying if you say you are suicidal in a hospital emergency room you will be admitted. And he was done.

The applause was uncomfortable as he left the room. Questions were raised. He did come back, which was good considering the topic of his poem. Suicidal thoughts are not to be laughed off.

I was talking to Scott about this afterward. In my five years of going to WB I've only heard the N word a handful of times, never used by a white guy. And we talked about how WB definitely uses racial humor as part of the act, we do not do racial slurs. Big difference. You never know what the night will bring.

Also during this time we saw the film A Town Called Panic a silly animated film from Belgium. Simply put, a cowboy, Indian, and horse have an adventure. Here's a short of theirs which may, or may not explain what this is about.



It's not a long film at 75 minutes, but I giggled a lot, and that's hard for me to do these days.

Saturday was a long day. Started with me headed to the junkyard to try and harvest a couple of small parts for my car. Went into the yard with a phillips head screwdriver and hope. Took me some time to find the Subarus. Walked by the sad Volvos and a long line of damaged Beetles, which was where they were behind. Found a trashed, older Outback, there were no Legacys that I could fine, and opened the hatchback. I was looking for a clip for the curtain, which was tough to get out and a lock for the rear seat to move it up and down.

Turns out, only one of the items, the seat lock, fit.

The tragedy was that my sunglasses were missing. They clip on to my frames with magnets. I had the screwdriver and sunglasses in my inside coat pocket. Somehow, when I took the screwdriver out, the sunglasses were attached and went flying.

Went back in the Subaru area, and thanks to St. Anthony the sunglasses were right on the ground, easily seen.

After this stress it was off for coffee at Cup O' Joe in Bexley where I sat with the iPod Touch, updating and updating as Everton took Chelsea to penalties in their FA Cup match, and won! Happy morning!

After watching my son swim it was time to get the car ready for the trip to Cincinnati. This was a test for the Subaru as it was the first long drive I have taken with it.

We were joined by our friend B-Dazzle, who did a craft project with my wife during the drive down.



It was an Army of Amys and one of them stared at me the whole drive down. I think there's one left in the back of the wagon.

Out first stop was Jungle Jim's in Fairfield. We've been here before, but not B-Dazzle. Out main objective was the IRN-Bru, which was, to our delight, available in 12 packs. We bought one of those while my Scottish Wife tossed candy and crisps into the cart. I almost picked up a can of haggis.



Picked up a few beverages including, the national drink of Austria.

After Jungle Jim's it was time to head to Cincinnati proper. Thanks to B-Dazzle's GPS we arrived with little trouble.

By this time we were a bit hungry. Sure, we had plenty of IRN-Bru, but we needed hot food. The place across the street from where we parked was closed, but my wife spotted a beer light about a block away. Turns out it was a bar and grill called Arnold's.



Immediately upon entering I knew we found the right spot. Reminded me of Ulrich's and McSorley's. This was an old school place (since 1859) in a building that has been standing since 1948 and it did not disappoint. Good food, good beer and friendly service. If we're in downtown Cincinnati again, this is the place to go.

We walked the two blocks to the Blue Wisp for the other reason for the road trip, the Whirlwind Company, Brisn S. David, Mike McGee, Mindy Nettifee and Jon Sands, a group of touring poets.



We immediately met three other Columbus poets who made the trip down and Jon Sands. Jon took a table from the back of the room and moved it to the front, which was where we sat the rest of the night. Great people, great poetry family.

I had never heard of Mindy before this tour and was completely gobsmacked by a poem she wrote about her father called Tremelo. I do not buy as much merchandise as I should, but I bought the book the poem is in.

It was good to meet Brian and Mindy and reconnect with Mike (who I had not seen since Berkeley) and Jon. On the drive home under an extremely bright moon I thought how lucky I am to have such great, talented friends, and to be a small part of the poetry community locally and nationally.

That's Not My Blog Post!

I am now an owner of a 1993 Subaru Legacy Station Wagon. It looks like this, but a bit dingier.



It has low mileage, 133K. For a 17 year old car that averages out to about 8,000 miles a year. Has not been driven much. I've had the brake pads replaced and will have the exhaust fixed on Monday. The engine has more pep than expected.

My son joined me as I signed the paperwork, went to the exhaust repair shop for the sticker shock and got the oil changed. He behaved wonderfully.

Returned the rental, someone might need it. I was very impressed with the Hyundai Elantra. When I rented the Accent back in October, I was unimpressed with it because of it's highway boredom, small gas tank and poor gas economy.

The Elantra has a lot of zip, was very comfortable to be in. Wish I had it longer because it had a plug in for an iPod.

Also have to once again give props to the staff at Enterprise on West Broad Street. Very courteous people and they gave me a lift home.

My Scottish Wife suggested we go to an Indian restaurant. It's not my go to place, but she asks for so little in return for being so awesome I could not refuse.

After being seated sitting next to us were two servers from Zen Cha, a tea house my wife goes to (as do I, sometimes) so we had a nice talk with them too.

Then the server came up and said a co-worker told her that I was a "great poet" and that it was "An honor to serve me."

Recognition does happen, and it's humbling when it does. Unlike one poet, who told me she was recognized in a store dressing room, with her pants down - it's pretty cool when someone publicly gives you praise, outside of the venue.

Had a very good chicken curry. Got comped for nothing, not even naan. See what being a famous local poet gets you? Thought about putting a haiku on the receipt but did not.

Glad we decided to head to a friend's house for socializing instead of seeing a movie or not going out.

Played Apples to Apples Jr. and ended up being the winner. Yay me!

I'd never played Catch Phrase and have not laughed so hard in a long time. Had to take my glasses off because they were steaming. Trigger word - Doo Rag.

Today my son's coming over and will stay the night with us. He's at his mother's the rest of the weekend. I might get some last minute shopping in. Tonight we'll open his presents and have a quiet night with each other.

Life is good, Otis Redding is wishing me a White Christmas, and it looks like the snow is staying on the ground for the next few days.

May you Constant Readers have a Merry Christmas, Happy Kwanzaa, and a lovely holiday. Thank you all.