Monday, November 28, 2011

Twisted Fate: Poem Honoring Halloween

Twisted Fate

The dark and dreary haunting
happens every night.

It ends upon the dawning
show of light.

Four green warty witches
flying through the air,

cackle at the victims
without any care.

Moss shroud upon their prison like
a coffin with a flag,

seven tiny children
are very, very, sad.

The warty witches taunt
and point into the sky,

the tiny children wish
they could go as high.

The pretty tiny children scream––
"whens our turn to fly?"

The wartiest of all cackles,
it was all a lie

No flying lesson for you
because your alive not dead,

we just wanted to get
inside your heads.

Streaking through the air
She meets her ghastly fate,

The smallest of the children
hits her with a Date,

the warty witch's crooked
foot hits the brooms brake.

Hurling down through trees
she sees the pitch forked laden mob

the other warty witches fly
off into thick fog.

She knows shes ready
for a bloody fight,

before the mob can reach her
she awakens with a fright.

Screaming at her sisters
"No more Sour Patch Kids at night."

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Interesting thing happened on the way to learning about the American Government

Interesting thing happened on the way to learning about the American Government, I became politically conscience.  I hate that I care about it now. Before I would listen to the candidates, go by my little knowledge and Matt's advice and vote for someone who acted as if he could lead. Now, I have learned that I am really annoyed at the continual empty words and fighting that happens decade after decade between Presidental candidates. I know this is nothing new even during the 2nd Presidental race mudslinging happened, but as a now politically conscience 42 year old, I was hoping that there would be better choices in the pool of men & woman to pick this time around. It's the same old, same old and I am not full of optimism at the fate of our country unless you and I do something about it.  I thought that I wanted Mitt Romney for a GOP candidate but I realize that he is like everyone else, hollow, controversial and full of sweet talking words.
The only man, that we haven't heard enough from is John Huntsman and as a person who lived during his reign as Govenor, I really wish he would open his mouth wide and loud and show everyone that there is an intelligent Republican out there we can vote for.  He understands Foreign Policy probably better than any of the other candidates and with China in the rule of commerce, he would be an excellent liason since he has already been there and made contacts with their government as the Ambassador to China. We, who lived in Utah saw overall taxes drop, natural food sales tax drop but other taxes/fees were raised like the rediculous price of renewing your DL or Plates. But, I will also say that during his reign Utah was at the highest point of the economy with the housing boom but  also served during the collapse until he became Ambassador.  I trust him more than any other candidate and will more than likely be voting for him to get him past the primary. Too bad he is so low on the polls.  Again, I think he needs to open wide and speak up!

I don't want to complain about my knowledge but a heavy burden has now been put on my shoulders. As my great Professor Thompson says, "It is my [your] responsibility to know what the issues are, what the words really mean and what you are willing to do for the messages you don't like." Dang, I want to live in a sheltered, take it for granted the best man will win life and let everyone else decide for me. But, how is that working for me- really?  I will continue to search the issues, I will continue to watch all news channels and take their words with a grain of salt, I will continue to read POLITICO and every other blog from both sides and weight them out in my mind and then move forward with what I believe is best.  I will never again complain and use anyone elses words to speak for myself.

What will you do?

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Across Borders and Beyond- A Memoir

Across Borders and Beyond

Long Beach, New York was edging toward the nip-your-nose, heavy jacket weather. I am 7 years old and nothing seems exciting to me. My brothers, dad, step-mom Jayne and baby sister Sharon have move to Utah without me. Life was like living in a fog with the Fog of all mothers beside me. School was not an outlet because I hadn't stepped foot in the brown-bricked building since first grade, so the tedium of watching T.V. and playing by myself was getting into my heart and head. " You are nothing. No one wants you. You were left behind because you are not as important as the rest," played over and over in my head.

With no explanation of why from my mother, I started back to school. Wednesday, Thursday, Friday... days floated by but weekends were the worst. My mother and I would go shopping or for a walk on the boardwalk but life seemed to be excruciatingly painful for my mother so no fun was had. Monday, back to school and I get called to the office, "What have I done that would get me sent there?" I wondered. Stepping inside that scary, dimmed, four-walled chamber stood the foundation of my security- my dad. Confusion set in, "why was he there since he had moved to Utah?" yet there he was telling me to grab my stuff and come with him. "Daddy, where are we going?" I asked. "Home, to grab some clothes, toys, books and then you are coming with me." I was elated! I never looked back...

Driving across the nation in the backseat of our fading yellowed Dodged Dart was an adventure, I was responsible for making our lunches,(usually bologna or our main staple peanut butter and Velveeta cheese sandwiches, with carrots or celery sticks,) keeping the soda cold and talking to my dad so he wouldn't fall asleep. Hours were spent singing children songs from Disney World, songs from the 60's and artists my dad loved- Eddie Fisher, Simon and Garfunkle, and of course the King- Elvis. Traversing 2,173 miles across country we would randomly stop for breaks in remote towns - I loved exploring new places.

Our last stop before my new home of Orem, was Tooele, Utah or as we pronounced it- Tool ee. In a run-down gas station surrounded by mountains we were sternly corrected by a lightly hairy man that it was pronounced Toe-willa. While gathering supplies, I begged my dad for another souvenir spoon to give to my mom since we had bought one in each state we passed through; I found one with a large ugly seagull on it which my dad informed me was the state bird of Utah; it wasn't great but it was better than the square-with-the-right-top-corner-cut-out spoon; which was Utah's shape on a map. Never saying no, to me, his eldest daughter, dad bought the spoon and stuck it in the trunk with the other souvenirs.

The last hour of our trip was the hardest of all- I couldn't wait to see my heart faced, cow-licked, toe-head of a baby sister, get squeezes from my step-mom Jayne or have my brothers spin me around in their arms like they had so many times before but most of all I was anxious to be in a home where there was laughter, conversation, hugs, kisses and where love abound. This is what my dad gave to me when on his 14 day round trip journey... he proved that I was one of the most important people in the world and I was WANTED.

Procrastination: What have you learned from this?

Anyone who knew me as a child or young adult knows that I am a chronic procrastinator- it thrills me to no end to have the rush of producing a great piece of work In the wee hours of the night or breaking dawn- which is more of a sleepless night situation not waking up early like most folks (someday I might just listen to Big Ben Franklin and try the Early to bed- Early to rise suggestion but that's for another day's discussion)!

This past week has been no exception. I started out very early in the plan and implementation stage of writing my American Nation Government paper. Borrowed books from the college library in mid October and that led to reading like a fiend on everything about Lyndon B. Johnson whom I didn't know anything about as a president (except that he came off as cruel after J.F.K died making Jackie stand on Airforce One to be present at his Oath of Office). While doing that reading I was also speed reading for more information on the New Deal of F.D.R. which I knew about from reading books in the past on him and his wife Eleanor.
Needless to say, I thought I was pacing myself fairly well.

Speed forward to Tuesday and Wednesday of this week- I had written 1200 words of my required 2500 word or 10 page paper and had stalled on what more to say... This for me is maddening because when am I short of word usage?

I ended up having Matt read over those 1200 words and playing with scenarios in my head about what angle I could take to extend the paper, when nothing- I mean nothing presented itself. So, I walked away from it until Tuesday evening... 1500 words, 2000- then nothing again. Matt re-reads, makes grammar corrections and I edit what needs to be fixed still 400 words short and I need to close the darn thing but after class that day we were told we couldn't end with a quote and that did me in. I had my closing in my head which had a quote and now I am being told this can't be done?!

Argumentative as I am, I approach Professor Thompson and give him my many reasons for being stalled on the paper and what the situation was. I was informed that I was not the type of student he was worrying about with the quote quota and so I was given permission to write my ending with a short quote as planned!

Wednesday night- 400 words still short! Paper due tomorrow morning 11 a.m. man things were not going my way. When all of a sudden @ 1 a.m. it hits me and I type furiously and find out I have 2705 words! I wake Matt up (he was a trooper,)to have him edit the paper and I finish with 2568 words and 4 sentences over 10 pages...
paper uploaded to a website that checks for plagiarism and the hard copy printed out with complete bibliography and I am off to lalaland.- yeah right; my brain will not shut off and now I am thinking of other things Is should've added to the paper. Geez why is my brain always so brilliant at the worst times? Well, it's turned in and there is nothing I can do about it now. I am resigned to getting a B on my paper. We will see how I really fare...

-This is how I feel today.

Saturday, November 05, 2011

Memoir in 600 words or less

It was the summer of 1974 and just like Neil Young's hit song, I wanted to be On The Beach. I was five years old craving to stand on the fringes of the toasted-marsh mellow- sandy-waters edge and count how long the incoming and receding water would take to cover my feet. My cool teenaged brothers refused to take me, their desire was running to the school playground, letter L sticks in hand and hit a little round rubber black disk across the hardtop while curving and racing around on 4 wheeled shoes not taking "Bimm" to the beach. Resigned to the fact that I wasn't going to be living the life of a beach baby, I drudgingly tagged along with my brothers like always.

The playground on the edge of where my brothers were playing hockey with their friends held a draw for me. I was wearing my favorite mustard yellow shirt with the letters S-A-N-D-Y on the front- people weren't afraid of children wearing their names anywhere on their personage in those days. My best friends Rosa and Patrick were already at the school ground when I arrived and so I challenged them to a race; the ultimate thing to do on that hot sticky playground for me was to jump up onto the black banana shaped seat hold onto the rusty silver chain and pump my legs like crazy to beat my friends higher into the air. As usual, I am the last to get the loft - I have shorter legs than the other two- but with a soaring spirit and blond piggy tails flapping behind me, I reach the threshold of height the swing will allow me to go and I am in heaven... sometime later I hear my name called and there is my step-mommy Jayne- she has heard that I wanted to go to the beach and came to take me there. I say goodbye to my friends and run off after mommy.

Holding hands we skip along singing 'A tisket, A tasket, a green and yellow basket,' to the beach blocks away. As we make our way through dolphin playground to the beach we talk about everything- friends, my brothers, my dad and his bike riding and her work at the local grocery store. We arrive at the beach and I notice she has a beach bag and picnic basket. We settle our belongings near the Lifeguard stand. I am in love with the Lifeguard stand- it looks like such a great place to sit and feel important- grownup. We take a little break to eat lunch. While munching on chunky peanut butter and velveeta cheese sandwiches we soak in the sun. Drinking warming milk from a cardboard milk container, I start aching to get to the water. I beg to go.. mommy knows that I can't sit still anymore... So off we go!

Mommy points out shells as we dance to the waters edge, my toes are tingling with anticipation, stepping into the water; I feel as if there is no where in the world I would rather be than here in this moment. We stand dead still, digging our toes deeper into the wet slimy sand to help the process and while we stand there, my mommy tells me about the day that I was born not under her heart but in it. This is the day that I learn about unconditional love, the day that a woman named Jayne showed me that no matter who gave birth to me I was her daughter.