Category Archives: Uncategorized

What are you looking for

What are you eating

Did you close the garage door

Did you lock the front door

Why are all the lights on

Where’s all the cats

How come you only put 2 inches of water in the sink when you wash dishes

What’s the expiry date on that

Are you off work this weekend

What are your hours tomorrow

When are you going to fix that

Who are you calling

Where’s my glasses (they’re on your head)

If you want to save electricity, why do you leave the TV on all the time
(keeps the cats company)

Who’s that woman you were talking to

What did you do today while I was working

Did you see that funny video on Facebook

You going to apply for that job they had advertised

How did your day go

Are you not feeling well

What are all those unlabeled things in the freezer

How many months have they been there

Why don’t you put labels on them

Did you forget it was our anniversary

How many stitches did it take to close that wound

Did I hear you say you were sorry?

Did you forget it was my birthday

What do you want for Christmas (nothing)

Where’s my glasses (reprise)

What time is your lunch break (same time every day)

Did you talk to any of the kids today (no)

Why don’t they ever call us

Did you take the garbage out (yes, dammit)

Will you dig me 35 holes to plant my tulip bulbs in

Will you stay with me?

Yes, I will

 

 

 

I do not wish to be critical of people (watch this, I will do it again).  Have been judgmental in my life, too many times.  At this late date, it is still a tug of war with something higher that tries to steer me away from this ingrained habit.  I once wrote a poem called Pieces of you , and the motivations for it I will put down here.

On a time, I was at a gas station snack bar to get some coffee and lunch.  The young fellow behind the counter seemed either hard of hearing, or of limited ability to understand, as it took him some time to get my order straight.  I probably demonstrated my impatience by pacing back and forth, tapping the foot, etc.  It made no impression upon him, as he continued at his slow pace, a wide toothy grin on his face, and no communication.  I thought of him as a simpleton, and did not show any politeness in the least.  What is worse, I did a crass imitation of him when I told the story, at a later date.  Even my own daughter looked upon me with disapproval. This cut to the quick.  “Out of the mouths of babes”, as it is said.  The first step in learning a lifelong lesson.

When I have seen people with Down’s, those crippled with Palsy, or having other visible signs of “abnormality”,  I have been taken aback, perhaps for reasons threefold:
fear of the unknown, guilt that I just wanted to walk away and carry on with my own worldly concerns, and at times a squirming discomfort when their eyes have met mine and I saw that their souls were perhaps more pure than my own.

Once, as a teenager, I had a horrible experience in a public washroom.  A man opened the stall door (it would not lock), and offered me a sexual service if I would do the same for him.  I got out of there as quickly as I could, but have borne the unpleasant memory to this day.  I know there can be real love between persons of the same sex, and that love is surely the important thing.  Changing my mindset has been a challenge.

Then there is the prejudice against people of color or different racial ethnicity.  I still realize its presence within me in some ways, even though, as they say “Some of my best friends are …..)”.  Some seem to be inscrutable and alien to me, and I am at a loss as to how to read them.  I do not think that one can say that these prejudices are learned, blaming the media or those around us who exhibit them.  We make up our own minds, and, if that includes going along with the crowd or swallowing all that we are fed through electronic media, then it is our fault.  There is good and bad in everyone, right?

And those that are on the streets, or who are on the point of being evicted from their homes.  Mostly, I do not know why they are in this kind of trouble.  The easy thing to say is that they are there because of an addiction problem, laziness, mental health issues, or all of this.  My thoughts about giving them money have been that it’s a waste, because I think they will probably just go and buy booze or drugs with it.  I would rather take them and buy them a hot meal, or give them a coat.  Would I take them into my home?  I do not think so.  There is still the fear of the unknown, and what could happen.

So, these pieces have helped form my personal puzzle.  You may identify with one or more of them.  I know that they are hard things to unlearn, and many of us may not even want to make the attempt.  I regret the assumptions I have made about people, and must try to give the benefit of the doubt.

Criticize the deeds, not the person.

 

 

 

 

Room full of boxes
still unpacked these ten years
don’t touch my stuff
cat hair infests the air
its filaments float
electrified in the sunrays
will we have them shaved?
clean the furnace filter
shall we save the small carpets that it yields?
nice leather sofa
all shabbiness now
will we outlaw the claws?
violations of perceived personal space
sometimes we snarl, say sorry (sometime)
fumes of flatulence
a Biblical stench in the nostrils
we don’t say sorry
it’s supposed to be funny
separate bedrooms now
she snores so sonorously
I must wear the air mask
Darth Vader, get away she says
she works, I write and play
we go to stores to buy things we do not need
just to have a change
and walk together
we know, I think, everything that can be known
about another person
and we can glean the rest in secret sighs.
This, says an old song,
is the stuff that dreams are made of.

I’m late, I’m late
For a very important date
was my thought this morning,
while rushing to pick up last minute things.
Someone said hello from behind.
A woman, who used to be our neighbor.
We’ve known her for thirty years.
She and my wife always talked
when we met in the stores.
They would jabber away beside the bananas,
or something.
Seeming to me to talk
about nothing.
This woman could have won
a rapid fire speaking contest,
as it always seemed her thoughts were tumbling out
as quickly as her tongue could go.
I would hover politely,
or maybe impolitely,
jingling the car keys.
They were two peas in a pod
when it came to the chit chat,
neither one wanting to release the other.
I would wander off and peruse the coffee section,
and so she and I never really had a personal conversation.
Today, she started off with pleasantries, asking about my family.
Something about her look made me lose
the inhibition I had felt about our first conversation in thirty years,
and forget about the false deadlines I had set for myself that day.
I asked after her family, and she became a little downcast.
Lost her husband to the drink.
Not dead, just separated, living in different towns.
She still drives there and takes him to work sometimes.
Drunk driving, no more license.
Their kids, now grown, were two of the quietest people I have known,
almost unnaturally so.  Still are.
She did not go on about her marriage, but instead talked of other events in her life,
and people that had come and gone.
What she was getting across was feelings, not events.
So articulate.  Such an open soul.
She is the first person I have met in a while
That I felt was talking to me.
Not looking for sympathy, just an ear.
Her last name is Weatherhead.
I used to refer to her as Featherhead.
I am so sorry.
Not just for my own ignorance,
but for a missed friendship of all of those years.