The Little Words Mean the Most

From a certain UK-based guru (the real kind, not the self-ordained)

 

... you are in my thoughts and I wanted you to know there is a real stand-out quote of yours I use everywhere:

“baby boomers are the largest cohort of potential donors ever seen on earth… so DO continue to stereotypically insult them. It makes it so much easier to see which charities are idiots....”

So many charities are STILL treating BBs as idiots, this good, wise, seasoned, long-suffering star-quality-successful guru rummaged on ....

 

Sitting on the porch at night

 

Reminiscing

just me and my pals

the airliner winding down to earth

the woods chorale

a light blanket of "we know what we're doing"

bugs and frogs I suppose

another plane every few minutes

the latest landing nearby

 

Reminiscing

my cousin the carpenter and I

one summer we nailed up a garage for mom

she used it as a gas chamber

rest in peace

 

The dragonfly on her perch

 

Which is a pointy thing

a defrocked garden stalk

she's seated on a stool at dragonfly diner

 

she's

still for minutes surrounded by

insurmountable food

 

then she springs to the sky

to nab a snack too small

for clumsy human eyes to see

 

munching

still again

atop her towering stalk

 

"I never thought," the series

 

I never thought I'd be

leaning on a granite crutch

as I was today

 

Navigating our garden terraces

laid by us to echo her dad's handiwork at home

 

6 kids arose at Lantern Hill

its landscape suitably shorn and sheared

Gramma Jane's nest in declining years

child Alain be praised he moved the

washer dryer out of the basement, eliminating stairs

 

watching the nightly cavalcade of planes

 

from the porch

the porch you insisted be built

 

I'm in a chair in fresh air

a starry sky is active with travelers

two thousand stories cross the skies above our house

descending, headed BOS or PVD

one planeload rising headed east for Europe

two loads far above headed south

over the girth of the earth

 

remember when flying places

was our family hobby?

and now I'm afraid to move

 

Dinner

 

Swindles of swallows

bellies gilded when they snap and swoop

abetted by our friends, the dragonflies

feasting on what might feast on us

the nasties

horse flies. deer flies. green heads. mosquitoes

tick control we leave to the wild turkeys: 2 hens, a dozen chicks

Behold in the butterfly gardens

a pair of monarchs jive WE ARE HERE!

Sadly said: that same dance floor

was crowded once upon a time;

now we're down to 2 or 3 animals a week

despite vast reserves of nectar

Swindles of swallows

2, 3, 4, 6, 8, 9 in a burst through the trees

slicing the air for food backdropped by

an exploding hydrangea

hundreds of coconut-sized blossoms

all named for friends of ours

They're haying the field next door

sounds like a heartbeat

 

Sim One - the memoir: Arriving this summer 2024

 

Decades of true love

then once in a blue moon

a terrifying diagnosis comes along

 

Simone in a nutshell, said John Lepp

 

 

 

Before the Internet

How-To books, hundreds of them

 

 

BBQ is different. It's a religion of sorts.

 

[the review submitted to Yelp, after a 1st visit to Wicked Sinister]

BBQ is different. It's a religion of sorts. The faithful flock to where it's extraordinary. And the extraordinary tends to end up in the weirdest places ... like in a back lane behind a clothing store in the half-empty downtown of once-prosperous Killingly, CT. It took me two tries to find it. Finally I followed my nose.

This was my first visit. Order the brisket on first visits I'd been told, by BBQ guru/mentors. If the brisket is good, the rest of the menu probably will be, too.

Today I ordered a sandwich called The Dirty Bastard (loved the film).

It was the first item listed on today's menu and featured "our perfectly smoked brisket doused in our peppered sausage gravy." Say no more.

Super juicy. Nicely pink. Full of flavor. Not fatty, but enough.

On a forgettable bun. That's not a complaint, by the way. Some of the best, beloved BBQ I've eaten across America and Canada came served with white bread from a discount supermarket. In the land of BBQ, the bread is just a kind of edible napkin. Its purpose is to soak up the juices before they stain your lap.

Wicked Sinister's "hand-cut French fries" will likely always be included in my future orders (oh, yes: I'll be back, with friends). "Sides" like fries are an important part of the BBQ experience. Wicked also offered today "dirty rice" and "smoked maple bacon mac and cheese."

Their hand-cut fries are thin like McDonald's, "deep fried in tallow made from our brisket trimmings." Irresistible. I went whole hog, burying my fries beneath cheese and bacon bits. It was tasty for a few mouthfuls, but there was too much topping glop (my fault; not theirs).

Pacing is important in BBQ. You can fill up in a minute with this kind of food. Take your time. Savor.

Talking to my therapist, cancelling today's session

 

Last session, you asked about the title of the book in progress.

 

Right now its working title is Sim One: A love and then-what-happens story

 

A good title comes either like a lightning bolt ... or like you're passing an elephant-sized turd ... with tusks.

 

Another possible subtitle for Sim One: Things we no longer do together ... That theme comes up in a few chapters. But it seems kind of sad for a book that, while gruesome from her diagnosis' standpoint, is really a celebration of a loud lovely life fiercely lived. > With style and great hair.

 

[still talking to my therapist] Titles are hard, especially for straightforward how-to books. My publisher and I came up with 75 or so options for my latest (last?) how-to book ... and never found one we liked. We surrendered and grumpily went with our barely-acceptable second best, shown here.

 

Thank you for all you're doing to guide me. Last week was good. Turned out I'm not the drunk I thought I was.

 

You've likely heard this: Extroverts talk to think. Introverts think to talk.

 

On that spectrum, I'm much more comfortable writing than talking. I can think on the page. It's mostly, for me, a matter of cadence ... and trash removal. The cadence? So, you've just said this ... what are you going to say next? Trash removal: Spot the redundancies, spot the larks, spot the flagrant self-indulgences, remember the audience: what do they need, what do they need, what do they need....

 

You've gotten me to talk, in 50-minute spurts. Thank you.