When we moved here in 1971, the outhouse had a metal sign on the wall with faded black letters, evidently taken from an old passenger train: Kindly flush toilet after each use, except when train is in station.
No hobo with any sense ever walked between the rails.
My brother went to the high school football game last Friday night. The stands were packed, but the air above the field was crowded, too: hundreds of migrating red bats swirled above the field, diving at anything that moved, including the players and the football, he said. Screw the game — I would’ve gone just for the bats.
This past weekend, my Aunt Jean told an amusing story about her daughter Hillary’s encounter — if that’s the word — with President Clinton. She was standing on a street corner in Washington, D.C. sometime back in the mid-90s when the presidential motorcade went by. The President was lounging in the back of his limousine eating a banana. When they passed Hillary, he caught her eye, smirked, and waggled the banana at her. She called up her mother. “I think the President of the United States just made an obscene gesture at me!”
I’m tired of the same old stale oaths. I think I’m going to start saying “Crikey!” and “Balls!”
I’ve heard my mother re-tell the story of my birth so many times, I almost feel as if I remember being there.
“A month before he was due, he flipped in the womb. Fortunately, he wasn’t as big as the other two, or they would’ve had to do a Caesarian. As it turned out, he was my easiest birth by far! A half-hour before he came, the doctor let all the other doctors and residents in the hospital know — everyone wanted to see what a difficult breech birth looked like. So there were all these people crowding into the room! It felt a little strange at first, but then I thought, ‘Oh, well.'”
I wonder how many people were actually there? It would be nice to know. Considering how few people come out to poetry readings, I’m thinking that might have been one of the largest audiences I’ve ever had.
Nor did I disappoint, apparently. I not only mooned everybody, but my penis was tucked between my legs in such a fashion that that was one of the first things they saw. It was visible for quite some time before I actually popped out. I may be reading too much into this, but I suspect it was a gesture of contempt for a world that I was clearly not at all anxious to enter.