At least it's not Branson

I'd be a lot more enthusiastic about things if I had not sank a lot of money into the car a couple of days ago. I knew the rotors were pitted, braking was similar to bronco busting, but when there was a lot of loud metal on metal banging during acceleration I knew I'd have to give in and take the car to the shop.

So I got to sit around the house and stress, do some editing, stress some more then watch Celtic win their soccer match to get into the Champions League and stress. The call from the mechanic came in, turns out the brake pads were not clipped on right by the people who put them on after I got the car last December, and they froze up the calipers. Scorecard was new brake pads, new rotors and calipers. A sickening total.

This was Wednesday, the same night as the Writers' Block Grand Slam in which the winner would go to the Individual World Poetry Slam. Five poets, including myself, were competing.

I was determined to compete and have fun, with no other expectations. Had my poems pretty much set. A one minute and two minute poem and two three minute poems of which I had to choose one.

Drew the five slot, which meant I went last in the round. That strategy did not matter much, not with only five poets reading.

Read a new poem that I finished the night before, To My Son on his 10th Birthday. You never know what is going to happen when you debut a work, especially during a major slam. After reading it, I got to my seat and my wife was bawling. Guess I struck a nerve in a few other people too as it was the highest scoring poem in the round. This meant I was to read first in round two.

There was no time to settle down, and I had another new poem, this one called Nine Bullets at Qimchok, about the taliban atrocities in Afghanistan. Got the judges verdict, then Gina read her poem and sailed past me in the scoring.

Going into round three, the one minute round Gina was in first, I was in second, Vernell third, Alexis then Aaron.

Gina did her thing then I came up and did, well, An Obscene Phone Call from Mr. Potato Head which brought the house down. I was in the lead and Vernell needed a near perfect score to catch me. That did not happen.

So I won the slam and a trip to the IWPS finals in Fayetteville, Arkansas in October. It was a great night of poetry and all five of us were outstanding. I've accepted the trip. Never been to Arkansas, deep in the Ozarks. My room is booked, the plane reservation will be made next week. I am thrilled, but the money issue and timing was not the best.

That said, I'm looking forward to representing Writers' Block Poetry. Now I have to figure out what to read there. Tough task. I hear there are only going to be 72 poets in the competition this year, so I'm guaranteed a better finish than my 90th in Berkeley three years ago. Also, like 2009, Ethan Rivera will be representing Writing Wrongs Poetry.



Columbus is coming Fayetteville, be ready!

Oh, and next week I get The Uni!

What I'm Drinking, Episode 22

One Woman Winery, Southold, New York

Doing all we can

A couple of months back I received a letter from my son's former occupational therapist. It more or less stated that he was still on the list for treatment, but his referral would expire in late September unless we scheduled appointments.

This morning I called to schedule an appointment. I was told he'd be put back on a waiting list, that I'd receive a call when his next session would be and that his referral was now up to date.

Did not expect to hear back from them for a few weeks. Was quite surprised to get a call back less than a half hour later with a date, next Tuesday. His new therapist, I specifically requested he not receive his last one, can take him every other week.

So what we're going to do is have O.T. one week, and Behavioral Therapy the next week. I'm really at a loss right now. He's definitely made progress, but is still quite underweight. Summer camp did not help as there did not seem to be anyone on staff capable of feeding him. His mother received a substantial amount of food that he did not eat, or that the staff did not make an effort in feeding him so they kept the food all summer without telling us. This part of the story is not over.

His behavior therapist has stated on more than one occasion that we're not doing enough, that there is no local situation that can provide him with intensive day or in-patient therapy. In the near future, that may change as she told me there is a new doctor on the hospital staff who may be capable of starting an in-patient feeding clinic. She's also setting my son up for an examination with this doctor.

He's intently watching Dora. I wish he put the same focus into pooping in the toilet.

So, things blew up.

We saw Expendables 2 yesterday. We went to the Rave Theater chain and saw it in their 'extreme' theater. The screen is bigger, but not Imax, and the sound is louder. It's essentially a tricked up car with monster bass that you can hear from a mile down the road.

Even the trailers were loud, and caused a breeze in the room.

Expendables 2 starts with a series of bangs. Things blow up. Guns are fired. Missiles are launched. A motorcycle is used as a bullet. Jet Li beats people up with kitchen equipment.

There's a plot that surrounds the explosions that involves Russian peasants and thunderdome that I compared to Wal-Mart with plutonium. Jean Claude Van Damme has had some horrible plastic surgery. The botox bill for this film had to be enormous, as was the budget for Chuck Norris' beard dye.

The chemistry between Stallone and Statham is genuine. They do good buddy shoot everything that moves films together.

There are explosions. Randy Coture had about two lines of dialogue. You knew one character was dead meat. Why not give the guy a red Star Trek shirt?

Guns are fired. Van Damme's character is named Jean Vilain. Deep.

Weapons are discharged. It was actually fun to see Bruce Willis and Arnold Schwarzenegger exchanging some very corny banter.

The musical oldies used in this film had to add about $1,500 in rights use to the budget.

Blood flies.And there will be a third one. Please let there be more Jet Li. Although Jackie Chan is rumored to be on board.

Normalcy advances

Coming back from a vacation in which there was little rest has been a tough adjustment. There's been a lot to do at work, which has resulted in slug like behavior at home. My wife did some more work on the back porch last night and I moved some record albums around while ditching some useless shelving.

Trying to get prepped for Wednesday's Grand Slam too.

My son started school this week and his bus has been extremely late in picking him up. So late we've had to take him to school. The bus home was an hour late the first day and 48 minutes late on the second. I do not consider that an improvement. Cannot get through to the transportation department, wonder why? Out of his first two days we spent about three and a half hours waiting for a bus.

Maybe they'll get it right by November.

Have returned to Ohio

Back in Columbus after a few days away. We almost could have driven to our destination as American Airlines had a massive cock up on Thursday morning for a flight to Chicago, and our flight. We were about three and a half hours late in departure.

Nevertheless we arrived at the ancestral home and had a very good time. Went out east on Friday. My son was not pleased being out in the open spaces and by the water. He just wanted to chill. He did not sleep well four of the five nights we were there. He did eat better as the weekend progressed.

Here's a photo dump, with some descriptions of what we did.




Bethpage Park, about five minutes from my parents house. Home of the Long Island Ducks of the independent league. Great place to see a game. If this was around 35 years ago when I was growing up, I would have been here all the time instead of Putt-Putt.



Fudgie the Whale knows.



It was Bud Harrellson bobble head night. My friend Jodi re-enacted the great fight he had with Pete Rose. Awesome!



The Museum of Natural History. Can't beat the dinos. I had not been here in years. When we went on field trips we always seemed to start on the bottom floors and never had time to see the fourth floor, where all the dinosaurs are.



The dioramas here are amazing.

Japanese girl giving the peace sign in front of a Tiki God. Come on!

My favorite diorama of all. Why?

Aw, look at the cute, dead otter.

Central Park was wonderful for a post-museum walk. Hey, a wedding!

The Bow Bridge.

Central Park Bandshell. Yes, is the answer!

Serious playground ball on 4th Street. The trash talking is amazing.

McSorley's Ale House, the greatest bar in the world.

This was outside of some theater/bar on St. Marks Place. I have not had time to research it, but there's Kitty Carlisle and Allan Jones, who were in A Night at the Opera with the Marx Brothers.

I took pictures in all the subway stations.

Great visit. As always, there is never enough time. I did get to see a couple of friends and a few relatives. My wife met some more of the family. Had a brief, but wonderful time with an old friend from elementary school and his family. Ate some fresh fried sea bass, drank plenty. I think it was a good visit.

Back to work tomorrow. First day of school for my son. He starts the fourth grade. Where did the time go?

It being August

We're going away for a few days.



Back soon.