Being social is hard, but rewarding.

It's a rare weekend when we're invited out for not just one, but two, social events and have the time and ability to do it.

There was an energy in the microbrewery on Friday, where we waited for a person to show up to celebrate his birthday, and to meet him in person for the first time. We had a good conversation with another friend who was waiting as well, and met the celebrant's brother and a few other people.

Over the course of the evening we also met a local dining establishment owner and a local food blogger. I was in a good mood so I did not ask the blogger if he ever had a bad meal out, ever, and if did, did he ever write about it? But that's my issue with local food critics who hyper-focus on nothing but positives and never offer any constructive critique.

So that was growth on my part, I think.

There was also a fun dinner party in which Cards of Humanity was played. My wife and I were cleaning up on the black cards but this exchange was one I happened to read.

"Maybe she's born with it, maybe it's ___________________

White privilege."

That was the first card I read, and I nearly ended it right then and there. How can that be topped?

It was good, but tiring to get out.

Plus, the Mets were playing on the west coast in the playoffs. The games ended very late, Here's my poem about last night's game.

"An open letter to Chase Utley of the Los Angeles Dodgers; after he broke the leg of New York Mets shortstop Ruben Tejada during an illegal slide into second base in the seventh inning of a game that was played on October 11th, 2015.

Fuck you."

And that's all that needs to be said, until Monday night.

The death of Carey Lander, the keyboardist for Camera Obscura, leaves me very very sad. Lander died of sarcoma this morning at the age of 33. Sucks when such a vital, creative person is taken from us too soon. She will be greatly missed. Condolences to her family, the band, and her friends.

Night of an American Spirit

As I age, winter gets tougher to endure. It gets harder to want to leave the house to socialize. A warm house is here along with a broken couch, a comfortable spouse and the internets. Plus I'm old, cranky and do not like driving at night in the cold, inclement weather.

A few weeks ago an internet acquaintance invited us into a local bourbon group on Facebook which turned into a bourbon club night at someone's house. At first I was not going to go because I was supposed to be reading in Pittsburgh the night of the party. Then I messed up my car and could not justify the travel expense after paying for the repairs. So bourbon club it was. Now me and social phobia was entering the home of a stranger, surrounded by people I mostly do not know except for online with a lot of liquor, and my wife does not really drink bourbon - what could possibly go wrong?

Nothing did! We had a great time. Met some wonderful new people. Had some good snacks and drank some really fine bourbon.

Part of admission was bringing a bottle. My contribution was Even Williams' Single Barrel which was good, but not my favorite of the night. The two that were exciting were Four Roses' Small Batch and its pleasant vanilla finish and one from California I knew nothing about.
Breaking and Entering is not distilled in California but blended there, from a blend of many different sources in Kentucky. A very full, rich and flavorful blend.

Two different people brought a bottle of Michter's Small Batch. There was a bottle of High West, which is distilled in Utah. A disappointment was Basil Hayden's which was all heat and no flavor. The surprise was Wild Turkey 101, which gave me the opportunity to tell about Mennonites who bought it back in the day at East Main Liquors in Fredonia. It's a very flavorful and powerful drink, at a very reasonable price.

It was a fun night. Can't thank our hosts enough. They let a group of friends and strangers invade their home with liquor and nothing got broken! I gave myself very small pours over the course of a few hours, got to try everything and was able to drive home with no problem. Can't wait for the next one, and there may be a sidebar gin party!

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.

Final word: Champions

The temperature dropped about 30 degrees yesterday from Thursday. Storms rolled through and it rained a bit. It is seemingly impossible to find an umbrella in this part of town. Dodged the mist and damp to find a place called the Little Bread Company, which is a short walk from the Hotel.

This place was fantastic. Everything made on premises, from scratch. Almost like Stauf's, but smaller and friendlier. I had my breakfast sandwich in a seat directly across from the display case, and was enticed by a huge plate of cream puffs. These cream puffs were different, as they were covered in chocolate. I told the cashier I'd be back for one of those cream puffs after my walk.

Hit Dickson Street in the vain attempt at umbrella shopping. Got some souvenirs at the campus bookstore and went up the big hill that would take me to Clinton House.

In the mid 1970's Bill Clinton was (as was Hillary), for a brief time, a law professor at the University of Arkansas. And he already lived in one place in Fayetteville. As he was driving Hillary to the airport she noted how much she liked this house. When she got back from the trip, Bill told her he bought the house and asked her to marry him. They were married in the living room. Until they bought the house in Chappaqua, it was the on;y home they ever owned.

Not the best of presidential homes I've visited, but the guide was very knowledgeable and friendly, and I washed my hands in the same sink the Clinton's used.

Got soaked on the way back. Still went back to Little Bread. The cream puff was other worldly.

After a beer sandwiched by two whiskies the night before, I was not in the best shape to attend an early workshop, but did save up my energy to attend Extreme Championship Poetry. Rob Sturma did a great job organizing the event. There were costumes, bad guys, heels, baby faces. It was like watching a night of RAW, but poets fought with words and not steel chairs.

Oh yeah, I was in a bout last night. Two and three minute rounds. I was in the three slot. Did Nine Bullets at Qimchok, got a score I thought was ok. Then, two poets later, the scores burst open and I was last in the round. Poets brought their game. Tables were turned. I went last in the three minute round did To My Son on His 10th Birthday and called it a weekend. Got seventh in the round. Was very happy how I did despite the whoszitwhatheheckjusthappeneditz of the first round.

How tough was my bout last night? Three of the poets ended up on finals stage. All deserved. G. Yamazawa (Who I was in the bout with on Thursday), Cameron and Ed Mabrey will all be onstage tonight. I was also in the bout on Thursday with Melissa May, who is also in finals. I like competing against the best, it brings up your own game and gives the audience a entertaining show.

Went to Matt Miller's Art Studio to see how Ethan did and to see the late bout there. Between rounds one of the judges abruptly left, flipping off one of the organizers as he left. Still not quite sure what happened there. A little spot of drama that did not effect the results.

I kept checking the overall results online to see who would end up in finals. One bout's results were late being posted. I'm sure a few poets were sweating it out. Then the scores were released. It's going to be a very good final.

As for my overall ranking, I went from 28 to 45. Would have not liked to have dropped that far but what can you do? I'm pleased with my work. Had a great time. My main goal was to finish in the middle of the pack, and not near last place like Berkeley. It happened. Again, thank you all for your thoughts and messages of support.

Winding down today. Listening to Everton vs. Wigan, getting ready for the poet picnic. Hope to read at the comedy showcase this afternoon. Then the finals and after party. I do not think I socialized as much as I would have liked, but damn, my energy is limited these days. Staying up late is hard.

Bring Me Your Higher Jump

Today was my son's last swimming lesson for the summer. The last few weeks he's climbed onto the board in the deep end, stood there, then sat there. Last week he got tossed in from a sitting position. This week they took it to the next step.



He does like being tossed around in the pool, and being in twelve and a half feet of water does not faze him either. He is a very good swimmer and can tread water very well. They're cleaning the pool and fixing it up for a few weeks. Next time in is September 10th.



After his lesson he and I went to a event. A few weeks ago we received an invitation from one of his classmates to his birthday party. This was the first time he has been invited to a birthday party. I was a bit nervous myself, meeting new people is not activity I seek out, but I sucked it up and we went.

As it turned out, he was the only one of his classmates who attended. We were around people who understand special needs children and while my son sat next to me most of the time, we had a good time batting balloons around the living room with everyone. They own a couple of nice, smallish dogs that he was a bit vary of, but they did not really bother him, or anyone else. One child though, is afraid of dogs and was very uncomfortable with the dogs barking in a shut room so they had to leave early.

When the cake was cut I had some yogurt and pudding ready for him, and a splendid time was had by everyone. Very glad I crossed my own comfort zone to do this for him.

He's been in OT for his eating issues for a month and a half now. He's getting on with his therapist but she's not able to break through. He does great, follows along with her, until it's time to eat. You put a couple crumbs of graham cracker, or any thickener into his food he notices and completely shuts down. It's going to be tough.

Things I Have Meant To Say

The progress bar is still as the Disk Warrior does its thing. It has not moved for about thirty six hours now. The number of broken files increases while the likelihood of replacing the hard drive by this weekend goes up. Accepting losing three plus years of work is not easy.

Off to a culture shaping retreat for work today and tomorrow. It's not something I'm being cynical about attending. I'm just anxious as being around a group of strangers and discussing anything with them face to face scares the crap out of me. I do not think we'll end up holding hands and singing Kumbaya or getting Block O tattoos on our biceps, but I'm optimistic for positive results.

As a bitter and disgruntled ex-employee, I grumble when I see a lawn sign, billboard or see other propaganda regarding Issue 4. Let me state here that I am not against it in the least. In fact I will be voting for it, and if you live in Columbus, you should too. If you want reasons, ask me and I'll go off as to why. If you want me to put a sign on my lawn or change my Facebook profile picture go elsewhere. I'm putting as much effort into their campaign as their efforts into my career advancement when I worked there. Yes, there are issues.

My son's IEP meeting is next week. Having a special needs kid is hard when it comes to educational expectations. At this point, limited conversation is seen as a big step. Pooping in the toilet would be nice. Slowly, he's beginning to sleep thought the night regularly - that is massive progress.

Got to love the Wexner Center. Last night they brought in Joe Dante to introduce Matinee. It's a fun movie that was very overlooked about Sci-Fi movies of the fifties and the Cuban Missile Crisis. And Mant, the film within the film about a half man - half ant, was much funnier than I remember. Dante was very gracious and had some important things to say about the state of horror films and today's film in general. He spoke like Scorcese's calmer cousin. Very entertaining.