Blues from the Keys

improbable ocean
rolling profuse blues and aquamarine green sheens
at me
riffed and rollicking
frothy sleeved wave after wave
word/pictures jammin’ bending palm tree logic
saxophone sexy sensuous loyal and stubborn

BLUES baby

wave after wave of bikini beach bodies
already tan brown as Café con leche
tourist jurists consumer products for sale
just like America

you’re in Key West NOW baby
your intellectual property has been transferred
to an off-shore island account
you can’t access with some kinky plastic card

you’re in Key West NOW baby
you gotta party
to find out who you really are

you gotta party hard and DEEP
like that snorkeling Wall Street lawyer
butterfly kicking and dolphin diving
firing bullets into the headboard of the bed
havin’ the best sex of his life
with some lithe Thai transexual ladyboy
who looks like the girl next door he married
dressed up for the high school prom
low cut dress cuddling cumquat twat breasts
and some intervibrational empathetic
MYSTERY
lurking hungrily below a lavender silk teddy
to teach that frugivorous lawyer
his satin ladyboy
is neither one nor the other
just the ultimate metaphor for the 21st century

So glad to have another literary contribution to the blog. Always great to a have a collaborator with a gift. All thanks and praises for the poem above go to Steve Rozwenc of Haydenville.

My Life as a Cattledog

Heading west on route 89 in central Vermont one eventually reaches the Route 91 interstate. . Route 91 heads south to Massachusetts or north back to Canada. The driver unfamiiar with travel then has at least a 50/50 chance of heading in the right direction home. Last night at 10pm I received a distress call from my daughter who returning from her Spring Break trip to Montreal inadvertently headed North on 91 back to Canada instead of traveling South home to Massachusetts. She did not realize this until Derby Vermont a few short miles from the Canadian border. She wanted to be home in the worst way and refused my offers to stay in a hotel and drive south in the light of day. Spring Break is over Monday. She and her group needed to be in Connecticut by Sunday. I think that she wanted to come home sleep in her own bed for one more night, pack all her stuff and take a leisurely drive back to College. So she insisted on driving south another 150 miles or so back home.
She also indicated that she wanted my wife and I to meet her midway in White River Junction to help guide her and make her feel less insecure . At first that sounded like a really glum proposition for us but the idea of an adventure and rescue sounded like it was necessary, so off we went heading North on Route 91 to Shepard my daughter and her traveling companions back home. We rendezvoused perfectly using cell phones like an ancient navigator uses the stars.
We met in a convenience store parking lot and looking inside discovered Vermont tee shirts selling five for $20. I bought each one of us a shirt forever bonding us to this moment.
Many miles later we safely arrived in our driveway. Although it was early in the AM those warmed over Italian takeouts from the Red Rose tasted like the best meal we ever ate. The kids were so grateful it brought tears to my eyes. I was immensely glad that our family remains this tight and that we continue to be supportive of one another. This is truly a gift that keeps on giving.
I have always been drawn to herding dogs. Currently I am the owner of a Cattle dog and prior to that I was also involved with other herding breeds. Last night I understood the instinct of these magnificent animals whose drive it is to keep the herd together and moving in the right direction. I so felt like a herding dog bringing my flock home.
Although this tale is mostly true some of the information is embellished to illustrate the feelings of the moment.

Memoir of a Gun owner

Incongruous as it may sound I am a gun owner. In fact I own several handguns as well as a short-barreled 12 gauge shotgun. I am proficient in handling, cleaning & shooting. These weapons are all registered and I have had owners & carry permit for over 25 years in two different states. I am so glad that this right is still with us.
I own these weapons not to hunt or collect but for self-defense.
I do not live in fear of getting attacked but I just want to be prepared for something that may be inevitable. Perhaps this insecurity stems from the fact I am a first generation American. For the most part America is safe, devoid of roving bands of people who wish to do others harm. Our civilian population has not had vast long-term devastation since the middle of the 19th Century, during the War Between the States. I know that violence does occur in some communities and a concern of mine is: “could this happen here”? If it does I wish not be a bystander who without a plan can easily become a victim.
My family of origin are holocaust victims and experienced the worst insecurity one can imagine because of this historical episode. Strangely enough they reacted by having no interest in gun ownership what so ever. They had faith in a system that they strongly believed would protect them. I too have that blind faith but sometimes fear that the system they believed in, is eroding. I want to be prepared to protect my family and myself. just in case we slide into chaos.

Equinox in Bennington Vermont

To celebrate the start of Spring our small family took an expedition north to our favorite Diner the BLUE BENN. Although we got really hungry and cranky during the longer than expected journey, once we entered the sanctuary of the little blue oasis our mood shifted to satisfaction. So many calories, so many delicious choices. Whatever you order is great & memorable. When it's done you always regret it and wish you tried something else. Some of us had traditional breakfast with a twist like sour dough french toast. I had eggplant almond enchiladas with the most out of this world refries. You can't really go wrong at the BLUE BENN. Expect to wait for a seat though the joint is always crowded with College students, housewives and real Vermont working guys. Nice atmosphere. Bring your appetite.
After the food we had to walk off the meal so we headed to the Bennington monument on top of the hill. We were overlooking the mountains right at the precise moment of today's Spring equinox. The winds were blowing briskly dropping the wind chill to uncomfortable levels. Although it was now officially Spring Vermont still felt like winter.
There was no one around cept for the Vermont Catamount standing watch over the old Bennington Tavern where revolutionary war soldiers found solace in their camraderie and beverage.

Flying the coop
Reality sets in and Pete knew what must be done. Even Fella sensed that things were going to change real fast. They instantly switched into survival mode. He did not think that anybody saw him go near that car or emerge from the woods with a hefty bag thrown over his shoulder. But what in G-d's name was he going to do with all that cash and how to deal with that narcotic. No doubt it was risky and hot but he was sure it was worth some big money. He questioned whether unloading the coke would be morally wrong. Unleashing that stuff to the street did not sit well with him but what should do? He thought about building a hot fire in the wood stove and throwing the bricks in. Cremating them for all they were worth.
He knew that no matter what he had to vacate the cabin in the woods and leave town. Using any of that money would certainly draw attention to himself. He had to head to a big city where he would become anonymous enabling him to blend in and start putting the cash to good use.
Not wanting to burn any bridges he did not incinerate the drugs. He carefully wrapped the bricks in several layers of plastic pracatically shrink wrapping them. Placing them in a sealed poly garbage can and stashing them in a small cave deeper in the Piney woods upstream from the cabin he thought he saw his fate unfold. He gave a hard exhale.
He put the bills and other essentials in a backpack and at dusk walked into a new adventure filled with hope and confusion. Fella wagged his tail and led the way down the dirt road traveling east.

The Curious Dog

Do you ever wonder what you would do if you won the lottery. This is not about such a lucky person rather it is a fictional account of this guy Pete who's dog Fella found a hefty bag filled with two bricks of white powder and twenty bundles of hundred dollar bills stashed in a deserted wrecked car while hiking in the snow filled woods of Pennsylvania sometime in 1992.
Upon closer inspection the bricks produced an acrid taste in mouth and numbing sensation to his tongue. It made his heart race a bit. He did not know much about these things but he pretty much figured the stuff was cocaine. He was right about that. He counted the cash and it came to over fifty thousand dollars. WOW!
Now under such circumstances what would anybody do. The first thing that he did was tell Fella what a good boy he was. He reaped praise to no end on his best friend. He then thrust the black plastic bag over his shoulder and proceeded down the hill until he reached the dirt road. It was about a three mile hike before he reached his humble abode. His heart was beating hard and he felt out of breath. He was excited and he needed to think. He lit the wood stove and sat close to it listening to the cracklin birch and feel the warmth come over him. Not wanting to turn on the lights he sat under the dim glow of a candle.
He fell asleep and dreamt of cars, cruises and beautiful women. He woke in a cold sweat. It was dawn and the fire had long died down.
He knew then what he had to do.

Come back to the Whole In The Donut soon to learn about his bold plan

Late Winter in these parts.

A frugal New Englander will always recognize the value of heating their home with Birch, Maple, Oak or Hemlock. Here we are on perfect day when it snowed lightly all afternoon while we were cutting, hauling, burning tops/brush & stacking a load of next years firewood.
This wood was harvested about fifty feet or less from our house. It gives me some pride that I am using such a local renewable resource. Greatly reducing my reliance on the oil companies who pump their stuff out of the ground so many thousands of miles from here.

Is this a novelty performer, a one hit wonder? I think not...

Those that have known me through my many years are more than aware of my fondness forJamaica and its rich culture. I was introduced to the Island as a Youth visiting a campsite aptly enough called Strawberry Parish located on the rocky coast in St Ann Parish. It was there that I had my first encounter with things Rasta. Right from the beginning those religious dreadlocked folk fascinated me. There worship of Jah, Ganja and references to the old testament were both foreign and yet very familiar. A very strong subliminal tie to my own Hebrew identity. For example A Jewish man is not supposed to cut their forelocks a rule very simiiar to the Rasta dreads. Are the Payos {forelocks} proudly worn by the ulra orthodox in Brooklyn a form of the dreadlocks? There was such a distinct difference though I dismissed the commonalities. Those similiarities were not lost in Matisyahu a young Hasid who produces the most dynamic Reggae riddims in years. Reviving both interest in things Rasta and spiritually reawakening many of the lost "tribe" members.
I first saw Matisyahu play outdoors in a benefit for Chabad House in Amherst. He was outrageous. Later that year we took a pilgrimage to NYC and saw Matisyahu perform at BB Kings on Christmas eve. Perfect. This guy is no joke he is the real thing touching something in all those who listen and watch him perform.
He will break many barriers with this new CD. Much of it is autobiographical talking about his transformation from secular drug using Jew to the visionary he is now. Well worth the listen and if you are able to see one of his charismatic performances you will also be in for a not easily matched musical experience.
Highly recommended.