Paging Columbus

Last month I read at the Ohio State Urban Arts Space for the Paging Columbus series.

Some of the set was recorded. The sound is a bit echoey due to the space, but you can hear me. Many thanks again to Hannah Stevenson for inviting me to read, and for posting the footage.

Can you simply snap?

I do not know any of the people involved in this tragedy, nor the autism father blogger I'm about to link to. It's a sad story that turned into an attempted murder/suicide. I'm not sure if something like this could or could not happen to me. One thing I do know is that without my wife I have no idea where I'd be today. One thing I do not know is exactly how my son's mother struggles with his condition.

Here's the link to the reaction of the story, which is in the blog post.

Living with an autistic child is hard, but so can living. Period. Most situations, including my own, can be so much worse.

My son has transitioned from stage two baby food to certain types of canned fruits, vegetables and boxed dinners that we put in a blender. This is huge progress.

Two weeks ago my son was in the toilet and smeared his feces all over himself, the bathroom and his bedroom floor.

Tonight he did the same thing. This is a child who freaks out over yogurt or peas on his hands but does not flinch when he's rubbing his shit into his hair.

As usual, he's not talking about it.

It's hard to laugh this off, when the future is so uncertain. What happens when puberty and hormones kick in? What happens if he becomes violent? What happens after his parents are gone? Right now we can't let him play in the backyard by himself because he might climb over the fence. Last night he was up at 3:30, shouting into the dark, just because, we think. Right now we have to prompt him to eat nearly every bite of food he takes because his mind wanders at the table and he does not have 45 minutes to an hour to eat every meal. We're taking about an additional 45 minutes each day just to get his food blended up and measured properly and I can't imagine how his mother is doing it by herself. I'm maintaining most days, and again without Emma I can only speculate something outside of a safe place.

It's exhausting, sleep deprivation is not healthy for anyone and I, too, will leave you with the words of a mother who lost it all.

There is so much more to say. I’m just too tired to write more.
All my love,
Kelli

Warren Zevon, ten years later

This was the first song I heard Warren Zevon sing live. I had just moved to Columbus about two months earlier and was excited to see him. It was also my first time at the Newport Music Hall, once of the city's better and longest running venues.



It was quite the show, the rest of the band came on after this and went into a raucous Even a Dog Can Shake Hands and it was total rock and roll the rest of the night. Ian Wallace was on drums and it was a great performance than Warren made note of mentioning at the end of the gig.

His death was no surprise, even Zevon was amazed that after all he had been through it was not the drugs that killed him. I got to see him three times, but none equaled the first. Easily one of the top ten live shows I've ever seen.

A rare double post

Posting this while it's still fresher in my head so there are two blog posts from me today. Do not worry, this is not a fall back to the olde days of Live Journal.

Last night at Writers' Block there was a Grab Bag Slam, in which poets were assigned a topic and had a week to write a poem with it and perform it in a slam.

Thirteen poets accepted the challenge and read them last night. It was a very impressive display of writing. The topics read about were Dance, Moisturizer, Yogurt, Doo-rag and many others. Colin was the last poet in the slam and ended up winning the night with a brilliant poem. His subject was Kool-Aid. I'm glad he won because there were three poets tied for second and there would have been a Tri-ku to determine the champion.

My topic was Ice and I was happy with how it went. Because it was an assignment I'm going to post it here.


Staff Refrigerator: A Lesson in Fear

Pouring down onto containers of uncertain age
are colors not found in nature

Pooling on glass shelves are liquids of unknown origin -
a waterfall of chemical composition that may or may not be toxic

There was an email sent to the entire staff of the building

Desiccated solids that could have been lunch fluid in their intent
Sump ponds with stagnant moist stuff in tupperware that
may have been a meal containing mammal bones

There is a memo on the window of the staff break room

Behind the freezer door lay chunks of permafrost ice cube trays,
or are they italian ices from ancient Rome, buried deep

There is a piece of paper on the side of the refrigerator

Puddles of who knows what cryogenically ice floe alien in origin frisbees
or U.F.O., unidentified frozen objects that may have been taken
from the locker in hangar 13 of a top secret military installation.

There is a memo taped to the front of the refrigerator door

if this object was not placed in this building in 2009 -
We’d carbon date the contents, but they did set off a geiger counter
and no one in the Technical Services department has a Haz-Mat suit

If I were to brave the stench and look inside of the refrigerator
I’d bet five dollars there is a copy of the clean up your damn mess memo
hanging from one of the shelves.
But neither I, nor the bomb squad, are looking.


So there was that poem. But I also wrote another, a bit more serious.

Terra Nova Pantoum

I am just going outside and may be some time
the last words of an Antarctic explorer
He walked to his death in 1912
Their tent now buried by an ice shelf

The last words of an Antarctic explorer
We took risks, we knew we took them; things have come out against us
Their tent now buried by an ice shelf
A tomb hidden by a century of climate

We took risks, we knew we took them; things have come out against us
and therefore we have no cause for complaint
A tomb hidden by a century of climate
Becomes a heroic trophy for placing the South Pole discovery to Amundsen

and therefore we have no cause for complaint
Robert Scott’s final diary entry
Becomes a heroic trophy for placing the South Pole discovery to Amundsen
They found the pole, saw a Norwegian flag, died on the journey back

Robert Scott’s final diary entry
He walked to his death in 1912
They found the pole, saw a Norwegian flag, died on the journey back
I am just going outside and may be some time


Ever since I was a kid I had an odd interest in the doomed Scott expedition. The explorers of the Arctic had to endured some incredibly hostile conditions and some did not make it back. Brave men.

Hard to slam with a pantoum though, and I was not that confident!

So that was two poems written in a week, something that does not happen to me much these days.

I have ambitions, research is being done. Comfort zones are being tested.

Always a good walk

My son was generous enough to give me whatever sickness had been inside of him last weekend and that left me waking up this morning and deciding going to work was not in anyone's best interests.

After sleeping a bit longer than usual I figured it would be better for me to not sit on the coach and get outside to take advantage of the beautiful September weather. Even while sick, I could appreciate it.

So the decision was made to take a walk in Greenlawn Cemetery.

It had been awhile since I've been here. It's hard to maintain a large space effectively. A portion of the fence on the west side of the property has busted down and now anyone can get in easily, at anytime. They need funds to repair the property and I do not have them.

Still, it was a pleasant day for a walk and I picked some areas I do not usually wander in.



Would love to know the back story to Mr. Gene. How did he get that name?



I know Columbus has a vital Greek population but did not realize there was a section of the cemetery that had a lot of Greek people buried there. This made me chuckle, shoot me.



Away where now? She did not go out for a pack of cigarettes, or did she?



The grave of a woman in her early twenties who died in 2012. This type of decoration fascinates me, and it's all over the cemetery here, and I imagine elsewhere.



I know I've posted this before, but it makes me giggle, ok?



And this one is further down the row. I'm sorry, but this makes me laugh.



As far as I know, this is the only grave in the world of an Olympic gold medal winner who was executed for committing murder. Here's the story.

None of my visits here are complete without some reflection here.



I was very happy to see that a lot of the overgrowth that obstructed the view of the pond from this spot had been cut back.

And just a few steps from this spot is this humble gravestone.



Greenlawn has been one of my go to spots for some quiet reflection and inspiration. Sometimes some cool birdlife is spotted, or a sprinting ground hog as you drive out of the property.

Gaming is free

Long gone are the video arcades in shopping malls and on High Street. Even as a kid, my addiction was not to video games, but a lot of quarters were spent on pinball.

Last night, a new establishment finally opened in Columbus, The 16 Bit Bar and Arcade is a classic video gamers cave of treasures. Many of the classic games, from Asteroids to Donkey Kong to Space Invaders are there, with free play, provided you drink.



There are also pinball machines, for fifty cents a play as the owners do not own those machines. It's an interesting place of nostalgia that will interest people of a certain age and others. We went early, and during the Ohio State football game to avoid the crowds and the space we had did not disappoint. While there were people there, and the game was on, there was no real wait for any of the games we wanted to play.



I hope they make it, the upkeep on these games, some of which are over thirty years old, is going to be difficult and their main source of income is only from beverages as there is no kitchen on premises. So do make purchases when you are there.



They're located at 254 South 4th Street, right by Dirty Franks.

She want to have true relations!

Hello. How you mood?

I think that now you are surprised to receive the letter from me. Likely
you now sit and think "where I have found yours email".

I have addressed in dating agency. This serious agency which co-operates
with many dating sites and has the big client base.

They have offered me some questionnaires of men which approach my criteria
of search. Thus I have received yours email.

I want to get acquainted with you. My name is Svetlana. To me of 28 years.
I am officially dissolved. I have a child to which 5 years. I very much love
children. And I am happy that my work is connected with children. I work as the
manager in children's studio of dance.

I hope that we can get acquainted more close. I search for the sincere man
which is ready to establish with me a family.

I want to have true relations. I send you the photo that you saw who to
you writes.

If you want to communicate with me you can write on my e-mail: svvsl@gmx.com.

I with impatience will wait your answer.

Have a good day, Svetlana


She's officially dissolved? How will I find her, in a bowl of sea monkeys?