Sung to the tune of “The First Noel”
Her first snow angel
she made this way,
was in the new snow that fell
on Salt Lake today!
And as she waved
her legs and arms,
to flakes they gave
new heavenly form!
Angel,
Angel!
Angel!
Angel!!!
Lay in the snow and
Make yours as well!
To be a poet!/
To try so hard with phrases/
and words. To then fail.
Some say that I “try too hard”.
What does that mean?
I try to be loving.
I try to be conscientious.
I try to be kind.
I try to be trustworthy.
I try to be friendly.
I try to be fun.
I try to be loyal.
I try to be helpful.
I try to be creative.
I try to be humble.
I try to be a hard worker.
I try to be spiritual.
I try to be intelligent.
I try to be visionary.
I try to be outgoing.
I try to be inclusive.
I try to be nonjudgmental.
I try to be cheerful.
I try to be non-prejudicial.
I try to be loving.
I try to be likable.
I try to be thrifty.
I try to be observational.
I try to be smiling.
I try to be joyful.
I try to be charitable.
I try to be righteous.
I try to be teachable.
I try to be the change.
I try to be a teacher.
I try to be contemplative.
I try to be repentant.
I try to be courteous.
I try to be obedient.
I try to be clean physically, mentally and spiritually.
I try to be brave.
I try to stand up for what’s right.
I try to be reverent.
I try to follow Him, to be a true Christian.
I try to be just.
I try to just be.
I am trying, but trying “too hard”?
What does that mean?
Why would I stop trying?
He often wondered/
if he would ever have the/
thrill of thrilling her.
I was talking to a friend’s father, a resident at a Jewish senior center in Florida, about his life. During our walk, we heard some jazz through the intercom. As we sat in the sun room, he started telling me about his younger days in Philadelphia. These are his words (with “my comments” inserted), as close as I can recall:
Hearing Jazz in Philly
“I remember going to a club off of Walnut, and you had to go downstairs. We were sitting there, and the side door opened and they had a guy by the arm. They walked him out, brought him to the raised stage and took him up the stairs, and they put his hand on the keyboard and left him. And he sat down and started playing. From then on he owned the place. It was George Shearing. THAT was music.
Duke Ellington and Ella Fitzgerald, I saw them together and separately. They were amazing.
The guy with a different-shaped horn … “Dizzy Gillespie?” Yeah, the Dizz. There was a block of houses in West Philadelphia, and they tore out the center of the block, and he played there. That was a great sound.
Philadelphia was where that jazz happened, even more than New York. They loved to play there, and they just did it for the love… Oh,what music!
The guy with the handkerchief … “Satchmo!?!” Yeah Satchmo. Louie Armstrong, what a trumpet player! He wasn’t known as a singer, but could he play! And the Dizz … when he played, his neck and cheeks bulged out and he would force those notes out through the front, just willed it out.
And Sarah Vaughan… Beautiful! She could sing. And I would be the only white guy there, 2-3 times a week I’d be at the clubs, and they all knew me because I loved — we all loved — the music. Stan Kenton, I saw him. Benny Goodman. Except for his band, we didn’t dance at these places. They were small … and just made for listening.
They would play in the clubs until closing, or we’d go to the Boyd Theater at 11, until 1 or 2 in the morning. Then they’d come off the stage and we’d talk to them, then we’d all go to some bar or someplace and they’d set up and play until 5 or 6 in the morning. That was just for the love of the music! Now you have all these musicians, they have no talent, they just perform for the money. But back then, you could see it, and feel it, they would just play until the early morning because they loved making that sound! That music!
They would all talk to me, I knew them all. I was the only white guy in the place, but they knew I loved that sound. They don’t play like that for the love anymore. And it’s too bad.”
Arrhythmia: When/
you don’t want a girl who makes/
your heart skip a beat.
Jupiter and Venus
lay equally,
while the smiling full moon
cast her light
over the wind-rippled lake.
I commented,
as bubbles from marsh gases,
released from sand,
rose between my toes,
how this moment
was like some kind of giant
universal
cosmic
harmonic.
And then,
as if to make it complete,
I swallowed a bug.
OR
And then
I swallowed a bug
to make it.complete.
What If? Cross Training–
You know the way
we have coaches to help us
when we work out
or diet
or do physical activities?
“Just five more reps!”
“Come on, you got this!”
“Looking good!”
“Only a few miles more!”
“The view is worth it!”
“You feel better about yourself
when you feel better!”
“You don’t need that cookie!”
And when we post
And boast
about our weight loss,
on Facebook,
or we show
a photo
of us,
everybody tells us
how FABULOUS! we are.
“Congratulations!”
“Lookin’ good!”
“Wow! What a stunner!”
Is that all I am to you?
My body?
A piece of firm
(or not)
meat?
What about the rest of me?
The who I am?
What if we supported each other like that
with everything?
Intellectual: “You’re reading Walden??
Whoa! DEEP STUFF!
“Come on, just one more chapter!
You got this!”
“Finish him up,
Then move to Whitman!”
Trailing clouds of glory! That’s YOU”
“You know you want it! Go get it!”
Creative: “That song you wrote?
I listened.
It’s awesome!”
“A poem a day?!
You’re amazing!
I want a sonnet for me!”
“Your words flow!
“Just try one more!
You can do this!”
Interpersonal: “I know you don’t
agree with them.
Kill “em with kindness!”
“Tell me what you’re thinking.
Let’s work together on this.
You’re so good at this!”
“You can change the world!”
“Baby steps!”
Professional: “You finished three spreadsheets?
AND the business plan!?!
How do you do it?!”
“I know you’re Smart enough!”
“You can do it!”
“Just one more hour on this project. YEAH!!”
“You’ll have it locked down!”
Spiritual: “You visited three families this month?
And helped them?!
You’re a role model!”
“Let’s get after that reading and meditation.
You’re doing a half hour?
Push it. Push it. PUSH IT!!
Go for an hour.
You got it! you got it!
One more verse!
One more prayer!
Feel the love! Feel it! feel it!”
Natural: You watched Jupiter and Venus collide? You ROCK!
“I’ve never seen the moon until you showed me
the way it can be.
You’ve opened up the heavens to me.
You’ve uncovered fields of flowers for me.
I never SAW until you showed me your vision!
Keep doing that.”
“Come on! You know you got this.
Push it! Push it harder!
See yourself showing others! ENVISION!
Open up the world!”
And on and on and on we could.
If we would.
If we’re not going to be satisfied with ourselves,
and each other, physically,
why should we settle for being
“just good enough”
in ANY other area?
Push me. Come on!
I can take it.
Just don’t just tell me
I’m overweight.
I heard the sad news today:/
You’ve gone to play with your friends./
I hope you find the blues way:/
The love town where music never ends.
In your honor I’m gonna eat/
A mess of grits and stuff./
You left us behind on Beale Street/
‘cuz our blues ain’t yet good enough.
I’m sure that Etta’s waiting./
Jellyroll and Stevie Ray, too./
I’ll bet Lucille’s anticipating:/
All tuned up just for you.
May God in His grace, knowing who you are,/
See your smiling face, and make your harp strings a guitar.
When Love Comes To Town (with Bono and U2https://youtu.be/r3wgoaONzwo
RIP
BB,
and be
Happy
playin’ with your friends
again.