Fast Reflexes

Maybe it was evolutions reward.

My grandparents migrated before the worst.

At the dawn of the 20^th century,

Long before Hitler invaded Poland,

With clever fingers that might

Help a tailor in the New World

He and Rose moved to America,

To never leave Brooklyn.

It was a far more dramatic move than

Jacob’s grandson moved to Hawaii

And a very different future.

He, the grandson, was escaping from New York

That reinforced his need for speed.

He could shoot dice before the city,

Family and a job sealed his future.

He landed 1 AM on February 2, 1965.

Honolulu Airport was quiet, the night sky

Filled with starlight and warm, a welcome feeling.

He drank from a water fountain that offered pineapple juice,

His pace for the next 15 years was slower, much slower.

He thought of his grandfather and how

Jacob’s trip made Hawaii possible.

Here was time for children, a dog, and adventure.

A time to reorder his life’s arc.

Half Way Home

Robin served her time?

One year in and now 6 months at a halfway house.

It had been an 8 year drug sentence, but they need the space.

Now comes the next dance.

Given the power, I’d stop her clock.

I know she is young, had a son while incarcerated,

And like all of us wants another turn.

“Sorry”, I’d say, “you’re too expensive.”

Maybe if you could keep a promise,

Never show up in Southern California,

Sell heroin somewhere else,

And leave your grandparents alone, we could talk.

It is your wonderful, caring grandparents,

Grandparents who did not sign-up for your lies

And the rest of the crap you’ll offer, that will explain

Your forthcoming resurrection.

Where The Winds Don’t Blow

Who knows if the Winds all tell the same story?

Perhaps they have new comrades

Who see the four corners of Earth responding

To overwhelming tragedy?

In our fair country

Many reject climate change,

And dismiss evolution as an horrendous hoax.

On both they impose a wall of ignorance.

Four our 6.000 year old Earth all things

Must remain subject only

To a higher power

That loves mankind,

But despairs of

Our moral misdeeds,

And exacts terrible punishment.

I am reminded of those Orthodox Jews

Who insist that the annihilation of 1,000,000 children

Was part of God’s price

For their undefined sins.

When Job asked God to explain WHY

He had suffered such grievous losses,

God spoke only of his power

Nothing more.

In our fair country

Many prefer the God they know

To the parade of facts

That demand there own truth.

Bob arrived at 10 AM ready to work.

A dry hot stillness

Presaged two hours of sweat.

Maybe I had sabotaged his Sunday

By proposing we dine in our neighborhood Saturday night?

Saturday’s dinner at the Village had been

Proceeded by a 15-minute tour of our roof deck.

Where a skylight had sprung a leak,

The water rained down on our living room

And soaked our couch and the surrounding floor.

Bob, an engineer by training and disposition,

Suggested how we might handle the problem

Until the fall and winter rains had passed.

He also suggested he could come tomorrow morning at 10.

With a 6’4” healthy body

And equipped with every tool that might be imagined

He set to work.                                                                                                                  

First task was disassembling the benches..

Next was stuffing any potential leaks.

By 11:30 we (that included Diana and me

Who served as runners) had the tarpaulins,

And plastic sheeting  secured,

And the disassembled parts back in place. 

This is not the first or fifth time

Bob has come to our rescue.

Our response to his generosity

“May not” exceed a very small gift certificate

The Dawn Of Aquarius

Maybe tomorrow, said the orthodox. Yes, if not tomorrow then  

soon, very soon. But our concern is Aquarius, not Jesus. We will

swim unchartered waters. Our life’s experience will move

beyond our beliefs so that we will hail the 11^th sign of the zodiac,

and look to a constellation in the southern hemisphere, if we wish

to exalt the coming age in the manner that has directed our

existence for the last 100,000 years.

If a new age approaches, which the gods might call a rational

state, I suspect no meaningful dialogue can ensue, for we did not

evolve from such a history, and we cannot reason without

reference to our irrational past. While our immediate successor to

the earth’s dominant position will, of necessity, still retain some

marginal elements of our “rationalized behavior”, much like our  

remnant of a now irreverent tail, its superfluous nature will likely

be expunged in time.

Whether humans will be viewed as valuable to what-or-whomever

follows in our wake is only of mild interest to this writer. Of

course, it could make for a fascinating curtain call.

Two Tales of Enough

Timing may not be everything,

But it sure can make you look prophetic.

Such was the nature of our new business.

Yes we had done a few things right,

That included going for the smaller market,

Not because it was small.

It was where we wanted to be.

Los Angeles and its environs made more sense:

More people, warmer weather

And the LA Times advertising reach.

But it wasn’t San Francisco.

The business prospered and we sold.

Why sell when things are going well?

One self-satisfying answer was

We had saved enough and wanted out.

Another, not as flattering, was anxiety:

Semi rational thoughts of bad endings.

How could we claim victory if we never sold?

It's A Matter Of NOW

Lord, I spend my time,

Which is the real money of life,

Considering paths not taken,

And bemoaning lazy choices.

It is not a question of how much you’ve put in the pot.

It is not question of how much you might lose.

The question is how much money is in the pot

And what are your odds of winning?

Too many yesterdays’ clog my vision,

Destroy any objectivity. My decision can likely

Be modified by the blue jacket my father liked,

Or tomorrow’s weather forecast.

It takes days, or longer, to accept                                                      

An idea that was borne home before I was five.
My dilemma does not confound my neighbor,                           

More likely it will bore the fellow.

 You can’t betroth your puzzle to another

For they will not bring your background,

As worn and mutilated as you made it,

To their evaluation.

Make the decision: propose to your girlfriend,

Paint the hall eggshell white,

Don’t buy the new car,

Fold your cards and play the next hand.

Trivia

Time was I understood trivia

I could label it, and stand clear

Political, archeological… and baseball

Were substantial and to be considered.

Somewhere along life's road

My thinking became muddled.

I ruminated on the likes of bugs

And their interest in my blood.

Nothing is trivial, or everything might be meaningless.

There are moments when something is neither,

Or both,and it might, nay, will change

Irrespective of any would-be greater truth.

I now hold to a belief in time.

What I will listen and respond to

As measured by time spent,

Will measure my trivia.

16 Million Jews

In 1935 there were about 16 million Jews.

80 years later we have returned

Not as Sisyphus, but as a people

Climbing to unexplored heights.

80 years later we have an Israel

and an America doing well.

Jews, and both countries

Have prospered by their mutual presence.

Still a marked people in much of the world,

Burdened with false claims of hideous atrocities,

That served as justification for a Holocaust 

Which decimated those 16 million.

A return to 16 million 

Marks a sober success.

Will the road brighten, and become friendlier?

I see no reason not to hope so…but keep a spear handy.

Ask

My Dad would never ask for directions

My mother was not an outstanding navigator

On a fun trip to Ontario we drove in large circles

For two days before heading home.

A Letter To A Son

I suppose being your father and the more likely to predecease, I should have some reflections that might be of interest to you. I chose “interest” over “value” because I’ve found that the things I’ve learned may not transfer well, nor am I convinced I have really understood life.

So here is what I want to share:

1. If you have a mate who shares your most important values and one that you love, support her as an equal and treat her trials and accomplishments as your highest priority. I have often failed at this, and I hope you will be more consistent and conscious of her needs and desires.

2. You seem to have friends, some of whom go back many years. Stay in touch with them and don’t concern yourself with being the taller head when/if you compare to see who has done 51% of the lifting.

3. Try to keep money from controlling your life. I still believe there are lots of things that are more important.

4. Find a task that you can treat as a cause. For me it has been as simple as delivering meals or as complex as working on a Board of Directors.  What matters is that you care. You’ll know you care when you can look back & notice the trail you have left, or lack thereof. If you are really lucky you might find your work such a cause, but I’ve not been that lucky.

5. You seem to be able to judge your efforts rationally. That’s a big plus, but check with your mate for a somewhat more objective view.

6. My biggest business mistakes have come from not paying attention. Just being lazy or egotistical has gotten me into really dumb situations; try to hold them to a minimum.

7. Look for help whether from a friend, a website, or a knowledgeable stranger. You don’t have to make every mistake & recognize that even a not so clever person may have a good idea.

8. You can start over. A friend went through a really ugly bankruptcy, coupled with a divorce. He more than survived the situation, and rebuilt a very good life.  Remember my friend Al? He is a recovering alcoholic who has built a good life.

It’s not that I wish failures on you, but good people make mistakes and many do more than survive.

9. Patience. Not a trait that our family is noted for. Work on it.

10.  Remember that I love you and think you are a good Man.

San Diego Weather Lacks Soul

Eight months of occasional fog,

Usually gone by 9 AM.

Otherwise it’s blue skies,

Not blue with big white puffy’s,

Merely a never-ending sky

That has not been troubled by

Disturbances from the South,

From whence perhaps might come storms,

As mighty hurricanes march to the Pacific,

And lose their energy long before

They might otherwise invade our very boring weather.

A ruling most declare whether forest fires

That come from the east, and can

Super-impose a black, dirty, ash-filled,

Low level of sky, that competes

With our soulless bluer than blue dome

Thereby creating an incredible contrast

Of such discord as to suggest the world’s end,

Is a result of weather or God’s direct judgment

An Enchanted Little Girl

Someone told a joke that fell short.

Alessia offered a kind laugh.

I believe she was offering condolences

That bespoke an empathy

Far beyond my expectations for a four year-old.

I wonder if my granddaughter is very special.

Certainly her vocabulary is enormous

And her use of language is comfortable

For a child several years her age.

She expects and receives hugs

From strangers when leaving their company,

And will usually offer a hug to adults

On their first meeting.

No doubt Mom and Dad encourage her social nature

But I would suppose there is something inside Alessia

That recognizes the love that both surrounds her

And is evident from her first interactive smile.

She likes and trusts family, friends

And the stranger standing before her.

Dinner At The Becks

We are safe.

Our conversations are tender and warm.

Disagreements do not create hurt feelings,

Merely a further exploration of the subject.

Bob knows his gift of food

To a street person is not merely

Intended to show concern for another.

He recognizes the infinitesimal space

Between his good fortune

And what might have been.

Dinner here (with five dogs seeking scraps,

All hopefully surrounding the table),

Settles into a dialogue on forgiveness.

Only Joanne believes she can always forgive,

Irrespective of past disappointments.

Bob, Diana and I acknowledge we

Would not offer absolution so readily.

It’s a soft evening.

Four friends who have dined here often.

Bob and Joann have never allowed

Us to accept a touch of guilt

For always being the guests

At their home

The night slowly closes around us

And wishing neither the meal,

Nor conversation become empty history,

I will have a space in my memories

For this time together.

Tony

Game on!

Twenty people in a circle,

All but three anxious, very anxious.

When the rehab went into Game mode

There were always casualties;

Some tears, (not limited to females) lots of screaming

And a final verdict rendered by The Boss.

Tony, The Boss, had a history:

Including twelve last rights,

Six short stretches in prison,

And ten years as a dope fiend.

He had humor and drama to spare

Plus a good line for the women.

His mood would determine the final verdict.

I was Board Chair and attended games as a witness.

Tony’s program was successful.

We raised enough money to function,

Paid The Boss well

And showed a better then average recidivism rate.

Without Tony the program would have failed.

Without me you would not be reading this note.

I was the one with a sense of the absurd.