A New Poetry Exercise

I was browsing possible places for submitting some of my poetry recently and found an interesting poetry exercise at 21 Stars Review. It is called a cento: the poem is composed entirely of lines borrowed from other sources. This is an exercise that could yield some interesting writing.

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My Nephew's Birthday

Yesterday I got a message from my brother; my nephew turns 40 today. It brought back a flood of memories.I guess I'm getting old when the birthday of a nephew triggers nostalgia.

I was just about my nephew's age the year I went to Texas and spent six weeks with my brother and his wife and took a class at UT-Austin. My own aunt thought I was crazy because I drove out there from Nevada all by myself. She thought it was reckless and a bit unsafe to be traveling all that way alone. But my theory was if I waited for anyone to go with me I would be waiting for years to do things. I had waited long enough.

It took me almost a week to get to Austin. I spent a night with some friends who had moved to Las Vegas. From there I went to the Grand Canyon. Since I was driving I figured I needed to take in a few sights along the way. This was probably the only time in my life I would do something like this, and I was right. My only regret was I did not spend enough time at the Grand Canyon. I can remember rounding the bend in the road and my first sight of it. The road leading up to the Canyon was nothing remarkable. I was getting a bit discouraged and thought I might be in for a big disappointment. I was wrong. As I rounded that last bend there was a feeling in my stomach like someone had hit me there. The sight was so magnificent. I spent the day and watched the sun go down from the rim of the Canyon. I had made plans to be in Phoenix that night and it was well past midnight when I got there. I had spent so much time in the Canyon, burning up over half a dozen rolls of film that I really didn't get much of a chance to see the Painted Desert.

The 4th of July was spent in Phoenix. There were a couple of days there. That was where I got my love of botanical gardens. It was one of the few attractions in the city open that day. All day I took photos in the garden in Phoenix. It was so hot the camera in my hands actually got too hot to hold and I had to go inside one of the buildings. It was that weekend I went to the Mormon Temple in the Phoenix area. The one thing that made a great impression on me was the trees in the garden of the Temple and the huge grapefruit growing on them. I was tempted to take one, but didn't give in. I'm sure not every one resists that temptation.

But it wasn't until the next day that I got to see the true magnificence of the Sonora Desert. For the first time in my life I saw saguaro cactus growing in the wild. I took a turn off the road and went through the desert museum there. I was so enthralled with the cactus and how truly majestic they are I nearly ran off the road and came close to puncturing my tires with the cactus needles. It was just outside of Deming, New Mexico that I came in contact with my first Midwestern storm. I had been told rainstorms were different there, but did not truly appreciate the fury of them until that night. I had been in bad rain storm in northern California, but I had never been in something like this. Instead of drops it was sheets. Lightning was coming down just feet from the car. I pulled off and sat out the storm in a Pizza Hut. A lot of us were doing the same thing.

Finally I got to El Paso. About 6:30 AM I started off from there headed for Austin. It took me all day and I still wasn't all the way across Texas. But the trip was worth it. It was the first time my brother and I had time to get to know each other. With our age differences and the fact we were raised in different families, we really didn't know much about the other. We spent hours that summer talking. And I remember his wife most fondly. It was from Jean I learn a lot of thing about family life, relationships and living I had never learned from my own mother. I came to think of her as a special friend and mother figure.

My nephew was around that summer, but I didn't see much of him. He was out doing what teen aged boys do during summers. I hate to tell you, Nephew, life isn't over at 40. Heck, it's just beginning. I remember it as though it was yesterday, but it also seems so far away at the same time. But more than 20 years after that summer we are still all making our way through life. Lots has happened to all of us, but the adventure only continues.

Happy birthday, Kid. See what remembering your birthday did?

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Was it George & Martha, a drunk, or...?

Well, I did it tonight on the way home. First, you have to have the picture. I live around a lake. Now, if you don't know lakes, you might get a good idea with a winding mountain road...just without the hills. I haven't seen so many squiggly road signs since I moved away from northern California coastlines. The speed limit ranges from 35-50. There is one hairpin turn that is posted at 20. So, you have the picture, right?

I got the first inkling that it would be a slow ride around the lake when we pulled off the highway. There is construction going on and it is posted 45. Well, this Toyota Corolla two cars in front of me slows down well before the 45 mph sign to 35. "OK," I thought, "we have George and Martha heading home after an early dinner." It was, after all, still light. However, as we took the offramp, a slow curve to the left, this Toyota starts weaving in the lane and slowing down. By the time we were hitting the 50 mph straight away it was going about 25 mph. There are absolutely no places to pass on this ten-mile stretch. The red cloth top guns it and crosses the double line to go around. A few minutes later, just before the first real curve the next car, an SUV, does the same. I am now behind the Toyota. It slows even more. I'm starting to think it's going to turn into the Country Club. But no, it continues on.

Going around the lake there were times when the Toyota slowed to less than 20 mph and was all over the lane. I really thought I had a drunk in front of me. Come on, more than 10 miles below the posteds and all over the lanes. After all, it was Friday night, after work, time enough to get royally inebriated. And it is the weekend before Labor Day. Then there was the conga line of cars behind me. I could just see one of them trying to pull a passing trick. There are no passing lanes. All the way from the highway to the town it is a double line...no passing. This could be dangerous.

So, I did what any responsible driver should do; I whipped out my trusty cell phone and called 911. I described the situation and the woman on the other end told me that when we approached the intersection of two county roads to flash my lights. An officer would be waiting there. That would alert him that this was the call he got. As we approached the stop light at the intersection I put on my flashers and let the patrol car pull out in front of me. Now, by this time we are on a straight stretch and the driver was pretty much holding it on a straight line and the speed limit through there is only 30 mph. But, I guess the officer saw enough he pulled over the car. I had been instructed to stop after he had made the stop.

The officer was smiling as he came back to my car. He got my full name, address, and phone and asked me just how bad it got out there. I told him about the swerving and slow speeds and the two cars that passed the Toyota. He did thank me for calling and then told me it was a learner. I saw the permit, not long enough to see the name, but to see it was a permit and he did tell me there was another person in the car instructing her. He did say that if she was that timid driving he would make the other person in the car drive home.

Oh, my Gawd! I do remember driving that badly. But Dad took me out on a stretch of highway that was virtually deserted. There were no other cars for miles. The curves were smooth and there was plenty of room if someone came up behind me they could pass. The two worst classes of drivers, besides drunks, have got to be learners and the George and Martha set. No wonder insurance rates for these two groups are so high. (Which reminds me I have to do the Senior Citizens driving course to get the rates down more.) I have already threatened the kids they have got to wrestle the driver's license from my clenched fist if I ever get so bad I'm a menace. I hope I'm like Aunt Bessie was; driving with the best of them on the LA freeways at 80. But if I'm not, get me off the road!

I guess I scared the daylights out of a new driver. Imagine with your learner's permit and being pulled over. But I'm not ashamed I did it. Maybe she (and her instructor) learned a lesson. Maybe they should get out of the metro area and look for some straighter roads until she gets over being so timid. Let's hope she's not planning on driving to school next week.

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A Rose by Any Other Name....

I have decided to kill off all my other blogs and just do one. Maybe this is something I should have done long ago. OK, so it takes me a while to get a handle on life. But here I can post writings, ramblings, thoughts,and whatever I feel like at the moment. I can even post some of my columns from IPS or rants about the workplace or frustrations about the day job. So, let's go on a ride all in one place.

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Identity Crisis

Pretty much the animals in my front yard have divided the areas among themselves. The squirrels have claimed the open areas of the lawn and the trees. The chipmunks skitter along the flowerbeds and under the plants. But today there was a chipmunk with an identity crisis. As I was watching this one little critter decided to pretend he was a squirrel and tried to climb the tree. He actually got about three feet up the tree trunk.

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I could go on and develop this as a story. I might yet do that, but the object of the few paragraphs is that by observing what is around you a variety of stories open themselves up. A lot of materials I gather come from observing either people or things.

One of my favorite tactics is to take myself out to dinner and take my notebook. Not long ago I overheard snippets of conversation about a cruise, how they got seasick, the people they traveled with and the snobbishness of one of those returning. She was telling her fellow diners how she had been to their destination before and how she had made sure her traveling companions went to all the right places and saw the right sights.

Not long ago I went up to the discount mall a few miles from home. I got there a bit early and sat in my car and watched the potential shoppers. From watching how they waited, patiently or not, I got a poem from the situation.

Even if you don't know the entire story, you can develop one for any given scenario. I might take the story of the chipmunk from its point of view and talk about his frustration about being confined to the ground. It might become a story of aspiration or futility...I don't know, yet. But I have observed and noted an anomaly that will work its way into a story.

Observing what is around you is a great way to gather inspiration for writing.

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