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.)