Deeds (Haiku)

Dreams are like the seeds
Visions are just like the rain
Goals become the sprouts

Tasks, the mature plants
Accomplishment is the fruit
The crop defines life

The Faded Memory (Haiku)

There's no yesterday
Only twenty minutes, now,
There's no tomorrow

On Aging (Haiku)

Is this what it's like
Bit by every little bit
First the knees, then back

Exercise be damned
I think it is what hurt me
Not as young as then

Going day by day
Everything was going fine
And then suddenly

At once it happens
No warning, no signs
Simply numbing pain

Getting up or down
Measure each motion with care
Others have it too

Now I understand
The pain need not be stated
But it is felt there

Brainwashing (Haiku)

Market subterfuge
Now homogenization
Mix and match couples

Subtle yet profound
Subliminal messages
Working on our minds

Dreamland (Haiku)

There sat I dreaming
Images of what and where
Were before my eyes

Then I realized
That I am living that dream
This is what and where

In my early years
This is what I had in mind
And now I've got it

This is where we live
This is what we are doing
Time to change the dream?

Making Changes (Haiku)

It is what it is.
Seeing changes to be made
Words enable them

In the beginning
Words must be said aloud
To self and others

Saying the words
To yourself repeatedly
They are inculcated

Only the right words
One must edit and revise
To find what will work

Then magically
Changes begin to occur
Right before your eyes

Why'd I Say That (Haiku)

All we say and do
Is for a single purpose,
To have them think  we're (blank)

Fill in the blank:

intelligent, witty, funny, serious,
entertaining, erudite, well read,
well listened, technically savvy,
up-to-date,
or any other attribute
of which you can think.

The Opposite Sex (Haiku)

The anatomy
Soft clothing, covering it
Imagination

The ingredients
Necessary to attract,
Excite, and incite

O'er the first hurdle
The first word, may be hello
But things get started

It may not persist
Depending on the other
Dangled, not offered

But persist it may
With a surprising result
Lifetimes together

Dieter Schellinger (1937-2019)

Dieter Schellinger was my wife's cousin and a good friend for both of us.  She met him on a trip to Germany with her parents in 1954 not that long after WWII.  He, his mother, father, and brother went through that hell.

He was forever grateful to my mother-in-law for the packages she sent to them after the war with some luxury items such as coffee, sugar, and chocolate.  The candy made him and his brother rather important among the other boys in their town.

She saw him again, and I met him, at our wedding when he made the trip down from Minnesota to be there with us.  We kept up with each other through the years but didn't see each other all that often.

He made it a point to visit the family in Saint Louis on occasion, especially during Christmas seasons.  Always professing gratitude for their thoughtfulness during the reconstruction.

He married a second time and established himself as a noteworthy professor and MD at Georgetown University  in Washington D.C.  The couple raised a fine son, who is also a doctor of medicine.

He was not only a professional success in the clinical application of radiation technology and X-rays but also an accomplished pianist and painter of modern art.

He had a good sense of humor and was always down-to-earth with us when we were around him.  Once, when we were talking about horse riding, he told of the time he was left in charge of a horse.

The animal somehow wandered away and he got a call to come get it.  He had a Volkswagen beetle with a sun-roof.  When he went to get the horse, he had no trailer so he opened the roof, passed the lead rope into the car and held it with one hand while he drove back using the other hand.  It must have been a comical sight to see a horse walking along side of a car with the rope going through the roof.

The last time we saw him was about five years ago.  Carola and I went to their house to visit.  We walked and talked as he brought me up to date on his life and health, which was questionable due to prostrate cancer.

It was removed surgically but he was struggling.  Then he developed a type of dementia and, although his wife kept the family informed, we didn't hear any more from him.

So, another friend goes down "that lonesome road" into the spiritual world that we, in faith, believe is there for us.

The Millennial Screens (Haiku)

I see them alone
In public, insulated
Looking at a screen

Ignoring those there
And those are ignoring them
Both insulated

The insulation
Tends to isolate them both
Keeping them apart

The familiar
Eventually withers
Those who stay in it

The artificial
Even if electronic
Will cause withering

Socialization
With random people around
Brings freshness to mind

Character Sketch of Dale Harding (One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest)

Character Study of Dale Harding

By: John Lina

I am 42 years old, born in St. Louis Missouri in December of 1920, Christmas Eve.  When I was 5 years old we moved into relatively new house on Oriole Avenue, in the Baden section of St. Louis.  It was one of five new houses in an older neighborhood of eight houses.  Oriole Avenue ended at the top of a gently sloping hill and the undeveloped area was a landfill, a dump.

St. Louis is a predominantly Catholic city, we were Methodists.  I attended Baden public school but almost everyone else in the neighborhood went to either Holy Cross School or Mount Carmel School.  We played together but there was an unspoken differentiation.

My dad worked for Curtis Wright out near the airport.  He was an engineer and eventually was promoted and we moved to Seattle Washington when I was twelve, where he would work until he retired from Boeing.  He was absorbed by his work.

My mother, like most women at the time, took care of the house and raising me and my older sister.  I noticed that she favored my sister in most of what happened between us and, as I recall it, she was a bit unfair to me.  I later would label it as “disdain.”

I was a rather weak kid, sort of willowy, and my sinuses bothered me a lot.  It seemed like I was always wiping my nose.  And my forelock seemed to always be down in my eyes.  I wanted to cut it off but didn’t dare.

Our move to Seattle was unsettling mainly because it meant a whole new environment, school, and the need to make new friends and acquaintances.  Not to mention the weather that aggravated my sinuses.  We lived on the corner of 16^th Street and South Orca Ave.

I finished grade school and went on to Cleveland High School, where I was in the top tier of students.  We were grouped according to potential and it was thought that I had some so I was in that group.  Finishing Cleveland, I went to the University of Puget Sound in Tacoma where I graduated with a BA in literature; went on to get an MA but demurred on a Phd.

I went to work for Bennett and Hastings Publishing as an editor.  It was a starter job and I liked the work and the people there.  They were largely intellectuals and the discussions were always interesting but didn’t lead to anything substantial.

It was here that I met Vera, she worked in the printing area.  I was attracted to her due to her looks and appearance; she to me because of my somewhat “backward” personality.  We got along well enough and after a year of dating we decided to get married.

The wedding was a small affair, she had almost no family there and my side was my immediate family, mother, father, and sister.  It was a church wedding but like I said, not a big deal.  We set up housekeeping in an apartment and then, later a small house.

Almost from the start, she was in charge sexually.  I mean, I couldn’t seem to satisfy her rather strong libido.  I don’t think she was ever unfaithful to me but the pressure to perform was becoming intense.  It got so bad that I thought I was inadequate and, without her knowing it, I got some counseling.  

The counselor suggested that I “take a break” and get some help.  I need to tell you that it was depressing and I sank into a malaise that was costing more than my self-esteem; I was beginning to think the worst, that I am homosexual.  I even contemplated suicide.  The break suggested was to check into a psychiatric facility where I would be “out of harms’ way.”  That was two years ago.

I enjoy it here.  It is all-male company and non-threatening; every day they give me a big dose of some kind of dope that keeps me feeling pretty good about the whole situation.  The guys in the ward all look up to me because, in their perspective, I have it all together.  They have elected me president of the patients’ group.

The chief nurse, Miss Ratched, is someone who reminds me of a combination of my mother and my older sister.  I dread her wrath and will do almost anything to avoid it and, so far, I’ve done a remarkable job of it.

Then… (the play starts.)

Twelfth Night's Sir Andrew Aguecheek

I am a knight of the kingdom.  Sir Toby, a brother knight, is my friend and upon whose moral support I rely.  I am often in his company because he has more imagination than I and enjoys drinking and reveling, which I also enjoy.  We've known each other a long time.  People often refer to me as a fool.

I have a pension at my disposal, he does not.  I realize that I am funding our merry-making but that's OK with me since I am enjoying myself and this sure beats sitting around the castle with nothing to do.  Besides, he has a rather nice looking, amiable niece.

The scene that presents itself to us is that of Sir Toby and I in the scullery, drinking and laughing at the world in general.  I, however, am discouraged because his niece, who is the object of my affection, seems to want to have nothing to do with me.   I am about to quit the locale and go home.

The characters in this scene are Mariah, the boss of the maids and kitchen help, Malvolio, the butler, Sir Toby and me.

Malvolio is the object of our contempt because he is a self-absorbed character who dreams of marrying-up in the world and becoming a member of "society."  He would entertain affection from Toby's niece Olivia if the opportunity was to present itself.

Mariah comes up with a scheme that will unseat Malvolio and we are part of the game that unfolds.  It is a letter, forged to look like Olivia's handwriting, wherein she implies that she is interested in having a liaison with M. A. O. and, of course, Malvolio assumes that it is he.

It is a short scene wherein the characters are introduced, the plot is hatched, and Malvolio falls for it hook, line, and sinker to our pleasure.

King Lear Monologue

 The following is an analysis of the piece partially according to a structure given by Patsy Rodenburg in her book, Speaking Shakespeare.

The Context: The monologue joins the progression at a point where he has divided his kingdom between two of his daughters, rejecting the third due to a misunderstanding and her inability to express her love for him. 

His daughters treat him poorly now that he has given them the kingdom and push him out of their way.   Furthermore, he has taken to living among the people and even in the “wild.”

 At the point of where the monologue takes place, he has been found by Cordelia, his third and rejected daughter, and by others with whom he is only vaguely familiar. He is dirty, disheveled, unkempt, and probably odoriferous.  He is not in his right mind, at least right as he was as king, but in a state of self-doubt.  Probably aware that he has lost his grip on reality.

This is the present at this moment, what happens next is in the future. 

The Givens: Lear is 80 plus years of age. The place of the action is an unpopulated area where Lear may have spent the night.

The things mentioned in the Context above color the circumstances of the monologue.  Cordelia, his daughter is there, as are one or two of his faithful friends or servants. He is not in his right mind.

The Imaginative: Lear is reeling: from the bad treatment he is receiving from his two “loving” daughters, the experience of life among his subjects over the past days, and the fall from status that he has undergone.   Unsure of himself, the once powerful man, is now trying to keep it together as he does/ and doesn’t recognize those close to him.  He is desperate because his situation seems to depend on his treatment by those around him.

The Speech: Given to primarily to Cordelia, and also a few others around him. He has just been rescued from the elements, i.e. he spent the night on the ground, and is stiff and sore as he helped up by Cordelia.

And so, he starts the speech by saying he has been rescued from the grave. Others there have made remarks now about the state he is in.  So he says, “Do not mock…” and he follows that by playing the age card.   He knows he is not quite right in the mind and admits to it.  He can’t quite remember those around him, where he is, what he’s wearing, even where he spent the night.  They chuckle as he admits this in an effort to ease the tension but he takes it as that they are laughing at him.  So he tells them not to laugh at him.  Now, he lets us know the depth of his dementia, he doesn’t recognize his, once favorite, daughter.

Notes on Hamlet Minilogue for Acting Class

Character Notes and on the positioning of the minilog from Hamlet Near the end of Act II Scene 2:

“Wanting to uncover the cause of Hamlet’s strange behavior, his uncle and his mother want to ascertain if it is love that has altered Hamlet’s mental state. When this encounter proves inconclusive, Claudius decides to send Hamlet on a trip to England, and Polonius suggests that he attempt to eavesdrop yet again—this time on a conversation between Hamlet and his mother, Queen Gertrude. (We know the source of Hamlet’s strange behavior.) 

“Meanwhile, inspired by the arrival of an acting troupe, Hamlet decides to have them perform a play that will mimic his father’s murder.  Hamlet closely watches Claudius during the murder scene, and he interprets Claudius’ suspicious reaction as a confirmation of his guilt.  After the play, Hamlet spies Claudius at prayer and realizes that this would be the perfect time to enact his revenge and kill him.  However, he reasons that it would be too lenient to allow Claudius to go to heaven cleansed of his sins and decides that he should wait to act.” https://www.enotes.com/topics/hamlet

The story:

Opens: Elsinore Castle—Denmark.  The king is dead; the queen, Gertrude, married, hastily, to Claudius, the king’s brother, and he has assumed the throne.
  

Hamlet has returned from school for the funeral and the re-marriage.

Ophelia is the object of Hamlet’s affection but all of that is sidelined by the action.

A ghost appears and tells Hamlet that Claudius killed his father.

Hamlet begins to act oddly as a result and Claudius and the queen try to figure out why.  Unable to do so they decide to send Hamlet to England.  Claudius arranges for Hamlet to be killed en route.

Before he goes, Hamlet produces a play (the minilogue is his plan to do so) and during the performance he becomes convinced of Claudius’ guilt.  He sets out to kill him but waits.  Meanwhile, Hamlet kills Polonius who is hidden in the drapes in his mother’s bedroom.  It is more or less an accident.

Hamlet is sent to England and his death but discovers the plot and returns to Denmark.  A contest to the death is arranged with poisonous swords and wine that results in the entire royal family dying one way or another.  Hamlet wills the throne to Fortinbras and asks his friend Horatio to tell the world the truth of what all happened.

The Characters: (among many others)

Hamlet, son of the king and Gertrude, he is the prince of Denmark.  At the time of the play he would have been about 17 or so, late adolescence.  He is somewhat superstitious, very suspicious, and tends to reach his own conclusions without the aid of advisors, which points to his immaturity.

Gertrude, queen and mother

Claudius, uncle and now king

Ophelia, Hamlet’s love interest

Polonius, Ophelia’s father

Laertes, Ophelia’s brother

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, friends of Hamlet

Horatio, friend of Hamlet

Fortinbras, pretender to the Norwegian throne

This is an excerpt the entire speech, Act 2 Scene 2 near the end.

HAMLET: (to the First Player) Dost thou hear me, old friend;

 can you play the Murder of Gonzago?

FIRST PLAYER: Ay, my lord.

HAMLET: We'll ha't to-morrow night. You could, for a need,

study a speech of some dozen or sixteen lines, which

I would set down and insert in't, could you not?

FIRST PLAYER: Ay, my lord.

HAMLET: Very well. Follow that lord; and look you mock him

not.  (Exit FIRST PLAYER)

My good friends, I'll leave you till night: you are

welcome to Elsinore.

ROSENCRANTZ: Good my lord!

HAMLET: Ay, so, God be wi' ye;

Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN

HAMLET: Now I am alone.

O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I!

Is it not monstrous that this player here,

But in a fiction, in a dream of passion,

Could force his soul so to his own conceit

That from her working all his visage wann'd,

Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect,

A broken voice, and his whole function suiting

With forms to his conceit? and all for nothing!

For Hecuba!

What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,

That he should weep for her? What would he do,

Had he the motive and the cue for passion

That I have? He would drown the stage with tears

And cleave the general ear with horrid speech,

Make mad the guilty and appall the free,

Confound the ignorant, and amaze indeed

The very faculties of eyes and ears. Yet I,

A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak,

Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my cause,

And can say nothing; no, not for a king,

Upon whose property and most dear life

A damn'd defeat was made. Am I a coward?

Who calls me villain? breaks my pate across?

Plucks off my beard, and blows it in my face?

Tweaks me by the nose? gives me the lie i' the throat,

As deep as to the lungs? who does me this?  Ha!

'Swounds, I should take it: for it cannot be

But I am pigeon-liver'd and lack gall

To make oppression bitter, or ere this

I should have fatted all the region kites

With this slave's offal: bloody, bawdy villain!

Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless villain!

O, vengeance!

Why, what an ass am I! This is most brave,

That I, the son of a dear father murder'd,

Prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell,

Must, like a whore, unpack my heart with words,

And fall a-cursing, like a very drab, A scullion!

Fie upon't! foh! About, my brain! I have heard

That guilty creatures sitting at a play

Have by the very cunning of the scene

Been struck so to the soul that presently

They have proclaim'd their malefactions;

For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak

With most miraculous organ.  I'll have these players

Play something like the murder of my father

Before mine uncle: I'll observe his looks;

I'll tent him to the quick: if he but blench,

I know my course. The spirit that I have seen

May be the devil: and the devil hath power

To assume a pleasing shape; yea, and perhaps

Out of my weakness and my melancholy,

As he is very potent with such spirits,

Abuses me to damn me: I'll have grounds

More relative than this: the play 's the thing

Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king.

Rehearsal without Performance (a Sonnet)

If art were only done for sake of art,

The stage would set for pittance and forgot;

Actors would act for self and not the part,

Audiences would yawn and be upsot.

The play's in theaters dark, quiet, bare.

The day, the month, the year of no consequence.

The actors, rapt in self, speak lines without care;

For self without regard of audience.

The play’s the thing upon which our mind is set.

The rest nil, of little interest to cast.

Those who would hear are not here, 'tis quiet

Reviews, well now, of these there’re none to bash.

Art in a basket, a waste, of specie

Face the painting to the wall, a waste of space.

Now and Then (Haiku)

The tenses of life
The past, present, and future
These define our life

The present is now
Actions that we are taking
Some desired some not

The now leads to then
Then, either controlled or not,
Unfolds as our life

Controlled with forethought
Upset by the uncontrolled
Keeps our interest

Dealing with upsets
Requires that we recover
Fix this, on to that

Keeping our focus
On what we want to happen
Moving on to it

Achieve then move on
Short respite to enjoy it
Then on to the next

The past is over
There for all the memories
The good and the bad

It cannot be changed
It's for lessons to be learned
Do again or not

The perfect tenses
For the hypothetical
May happen or not

Who AreYou (Haiku)

I see reflections,
I know how big and tall I am,
Personality.

I am what I am.
The sum of disparate parts,
Plus some synergy.

The sought for answer,
I'm he who takes care of us;
Providing for us.

Not Finished Yet (Haiku)

What are you doing?
Sitting here, waiting to die;
But wait a minute.

There is something else
That I must get accomplished
Before I leave here.

It is not for me
But it's very important.
It's for someone else.

I just don't know who,
Or what, or why, where, or when
But it must be done.

The Future Armagedon (Haiku)

True reality
Replaced by screen images
We will disappear

Bionic robots
Like people but without souls
Work for remaining

No need for people
Birth only by permission
Population gone

When power goes out
All activity ceases
It may not come on

The apocalypse
Is not from an asteroid
But power outage

We are evolving
Into a population
Unsustainable

Basic Need? (Haiku)

Give it a name
People will glom onto it
We need to belong

The Baby Boomers
Gen-X and Millennials
Proud of common traits

But is it for sure
Or made-up hype to sell stuff
I vote for made-up

Differentiate
Common theme for marketers
A ruse to raise sales

Procrastination Pays (Haiku)

Don't do anything
Even what you want to do
Before you have to

Doing it before
Often leads to redoing
Schedule stops all that

Doing it later
Often means doing it once
Instead of often

V i r i l i t y (Haiku)

I used to lose sleep
Worried about my image
Until it dawned on me

It was only me
Who was concerned about this
And no one else cared

So then, off to sleep
The sleep of the confident
No longer worried

Commitment (Haiku)

Do it 'till you're good
Then find something else to do
Do it 'till you're good

Commit to do it
Do it to achieve an end
Working at the means

The bigger the "it"
The longer it takes to do
Even a lifetime

There's satisfaction
Pursuing an ideal
Even happiness

Remember Me? (Haiku)

Obliterated
Footprints on the beach of life
By the ebb and flow

We walk through our life
Our legacy a gravestone
Family recalls

The stones of our lives
Filling the cemeteries
Or ashes in urns

I wept a sad tear
For an old friend now enurned
Never forgotten

And so will I be
By my family and friends
Until they are dead

Trivia (Haiku)

Trivia is posted
Hoping it's good for someone
Take it at its worth

Into the Wilderness 2019-- Audition and Discard

Last year I did this and had mixed results.  The overall result was good but I think it could have been better with more discipline.  I am going to do it again this year with more resolve.  My idea is to get as close to isolation as possible; in other words eliminate external influences on my thinking.

The rules have been slightly modified but generally are the same:

1. Working, doing Voice-over auditions and/or rehearsals and performances of plays and films is fine.  Contact for the purpose of securing work is encouraged.
2. Socialization only in the response mode; i.e. initiating no casual contact but responding directly to contact when it's made.  This would also preclude prolonging the contact beyond that for which it was initiated.
3. No recreational electronics, including radio, television, and phonograph.
4. Telephone only to answer it and Email checked once per day with both telephone and Email usage according to Rule 1.
5. Reading , especially on acting work, is encouraged.
6. Writing thoughts and impressions, as much and as often as desired.  (Last year this was recognized as a distraction at times.)
7. No change indicated for eating habits.
8. Going out only to get groceries, necessities, to keep appointments, or to exercise and adhering to Rule 1 when out.
9. Physical exercise and artistic practice, such as singing or reciting, would be allowed to any extent, even going to the fitness center and golf courses; remembering Rule 1 when there.
10. Discard, without recrimination or remorse, anything deemed useless.

The themes of this foray into the wilderness are Audition and Discard.  Auditions refer to voice work, commercials and other voice-only jobs.  And after that is established with a series of successes, go ahead and pursue plays, movies, and other video work.

Discard is sorting out and purging belongings, such as books and files, tools and materials, clothes and accouterments.  The idea here is to reduce the clutter and it has the added benefit of being aware of what one has and where it is.

Construction, repair, and maintenance of whatever would be allowed; always in accordance with Rule 1.  The difficulty was filling the time with some sort of productive activity.

According to my rules, work defined as Voice over and acting is fine; and I can work, cook, bake, go out for necessities, exercise, shoot pool, play golf, or walk.  I can clean, fix, construct, discard, purge, sort, and donate to my heart's content.  I can think, and write to get thoughts on paper, but I realize that the important thoughts, the life changing thoughts, will be with me, written or not.

Jim Harcum's Funeral

Jim Harcum was a friend of mine.  We got word on the Tuesday, the 19th of February that he died on Sunday, the 17th, from some sort of lung disorder.  We made a decision right then and there to go to the funeral and pay our respects.

We met Jim and his wife in 1968 and became friends right away.  His wife was the leader of a chapter of Epsilon Sigma Alpha sorority, a women's philanthropic and social organization.  The group was active and we all had a lot of fun together going to conventions and other events.

Jim, like me, was a boater.  Over the years he had power boats, a sailboat, and a pontoon boat.  That was our connection, even to the point of going sailing in the Virgin Islands with some other friends of ours.

My wife and I left Louisville Kentucky for Virginia early on Wednesday morning and stayed with our daughter in Virginia Beach.  On Thursday we set out for the peninsula and Yorktown where the reception remembering Jim was being held at a funeral parlor.

We had dinner at Harpoon Larry's in Newport News, a favorite eating place of ours whenever we went to see the Harcum's, which we usually did every summer when visiting our daughter.  It was a small homage.

The memorial was an emotional event for me.  I had trouble talking about Jim without having my throat swell holding back the tears.  There were pictures of him over the years depicting the various activities in which he was involved.  The pictures included, of course, his family and friends.

I talked for a long time to an even closer friend of his, Jim Charleston, who told me of Jim's last moments.  His lungs were failing and became precipitously worse over the two weeks prior to his death.  He called for a beer to drink just before he died.  Jim was not a heavy drinker but enjoyed a glass or two of beer, or bourbon.  Jim went peacefully, surrounded by his family.

At the memorial, we saw friends that we hadn't seen for a while.  It was nice.  Finally, we left there and went back to Va Beach.  I was still quite emotional but kept it in.

The next day we went back to the peninsula, to lunch at Smokey Bones, a BBQ place that the Harcums, friends, and we likewise frequented; another homage.  Then we went on to the funeral.

The funeral service was at St. Mark Lutheran church in Yorktown.  The church was full but I knew scant few of the people there.  I was particularly surprised by some who weren't there.  Jim was active in the church and I think most of those there were members of the congregation.

It was a Lutheran service and very similar to Roman Catholic.  The pastor related how he went to give Jim the Eucharistic bread and wine only to find that he'd picked up an empty kit.  He stopped and got some white bread and cheap wine at a convenience store and used that.  The wine given as the Eucharistic wine at this service was that same cheap wine in memory of what happened with Jim.

The same little wooden box with the name James Paul Harcum that I saw at the funeral parlor, was on a table in front of the altar.  It dawned on me then that those were Jim's ashes.

After the service there was a reception.  Mark, Jim's son-in-law, gave a eulogy and asked me to say a few words, which I did.

I related an episode that occurred one cold, rainy, wintry day, about this time of year, when Jim and I set out to take my boat back to Merrimack Shores and went aground in the Poquoson River.  The Coast Guard came to pull us off and repeatedly ran aground as well.  Watching their antics, I asked Jim if we were obliged to take a line if one was thrown by them.  He said no, where was the whiskey?  I had none aboard.  He then  impressed upon me, that day, that a bottle of whiskey was required aboard any boat for just this sort of event.

Mark followed that with a beer toast, everyone had been given a few ounces of beer in plastic glass, to Jim Harcum, husband, father, and friend.  Everyone, including my wife and I, drank to his name.

A little while later we left.  So ends a long friendship, in life anyway, that spanned more than 50 years.  We did a lot, laughed a lot, and made some great memories.  Propriety prevents me from detailing some of them.

A Strange Sight Indeed

We, my wife and I, were going in on the ramp to I64 West from the Gene Snyder North the other day when we espied a committee of buzzards in the green area between the ramp and the interstate.  There were twenty of them, maybe a few more or less.  It was a rainy day not very cold but it is winter.  They may have been feeding, we couldn't tell.

Not a remarkable sight but wait.  We finished our business and were on the way home, about an hour later, when we again got on the Gene Snyder; returning north.  As we crossed the overpass of I64, there on the light standards, were the buzzards.  They had reconvened atop them, all twenty or so at five or six per standard, with their wings stretched out.  Just roosting there, with their wings out as if drying them.

They were there before we came onto the freeway and remained there after we passed.  All those buzzards, each with his wings spread out; quite a strange sight indeed.

Character Sketch of Boss Finley

My name is Thomas Finley, people call me boss.  I was born outside of  St. Cloud (Alexandria) LA in August of 1907 that makes me 58 years old this year.  Grew up in a two room shack not far from there.  Attended public school until I got noticed by the local politicians and recommended to work for them in St. Cloud (Alexandria) and, later, in Baton Rouge doing odd politico jobs.

I literally came from the clay streets of the little town where I grew up.  My family was poor, my daddy no good for nothing, my mother stern but loving.  I started in politics young (15) and got the schooling and experience I needed in the Democratic machine.  Everyone knew I played for keeps and more than one bit the dust.

I am now the most powerful politician in Louisiana and Southern Mississippi.  And I'm dirty, I know it and use it to my best advantage.  I am totally self-centered and look out only for my own self-interest and enrichment.  I am going to die as rich and famous as I was once poor, and no wife and/or family is going to get in my way.

Heavenly Finley, my daughter and younger child is 27 years old, and my only daughter.  She's the younger sister of Tom Finley Jr; and Chance Wayne’s longtime sweetheart. Like her late mother she is a practicing Catholic, although this frustrates me because my "base" is protestant. 

When she was 15, Heavenly suffered through an awful loss, an operation to eliminate a venereal disease that left her sterile.  The operation was at my behest.  She put on black in mourning. Although we attempted to keep her circumstances private, there are rumors throughout St. Cloud (Alexandria) that something tragic has happened concerning Heavenly.

Tom Jr is my legacy and I'm grooming him to step in for me.  Miss Lucy is a necessary encumbrance on my life; she takes care of my "needs."  Chance Wayne is nobody, of no use to me, and certainly not going to marry my daughter even if that’s what she wants.  It was he that infected her with the disease.

The current situation is: I'm making a public appearance at a dinner.  There's talk about Heavenly and she is feeling sorry for herself and pining over Chance.  She's going to go with me come hell or high water and make a good show of it.  It's an opportunity to showcase Tom Jr and put the gossip about Heavenly to rest.

Mind and Life (Haiku)

Straddling the abyss
Mind is at once in the one
And in the other

The spiritual
And then in the physical
Imagine, dream, act

Alone, with others
Look at what we accomplished
And we're not through yet

A part eternal
The physical dies at death
The Master lives on

Continuity
Life will never be extinct
On the living Earth

Advice to a Young Lady (Haiku)

Look through a glass pane
Not always in a mirror
You will see much more

Seeing the other
What they have compared to you
It will seem better

Comparing it not
To yourself or anyone else
Avoids the problem

It's not what it seems
Not in their eyes anyway
Yours will seem better