Letter to my Children: Tuesday, November 15th. 2022.

 dear kiddies;

 

on the bright side, the chicken livers were not spoiled. i just threw them away in a fit of rage when i couldn't open the container. but i reconsidered, fished them out of the trash, pried the lid off without too much cursing, and now they are marinating in the fridge. i will serve them this afternoon, sauteed with toast points, to anyone who wants 'em. i never know how many are coming to the door for our free meals. yesterday there were just 2 people at the door, but sunday evening we had nearly a dozen come for a piece of apricot cobbler. go figure.

we've been asked to feed the sister missionaries this coming sunday, so i put out the call on social media for the makings of a spaghetti dinner, which we'll serve in the community room for everyone and anyone who wants to come 'meet the missionaries.'  donations have been good so far:  4 lbs of spaghetti pasta, six cans of sauce, 2 lbs of hamburger, and a jar of Kraft parmesan cheese. now all we need is bread and a green salad -- i'm hoping if i keep harping at it on facebook and twitter that someone will step up with those items. for the sad sad truth is that because of some large & unexpected bills, and lack of paid writing work, we are dead broke. we can pay rent and put gas in the car, and that's about all. i've canceled my subscription to the wall street journal and your mother took her horn back to the music store to save on the rental fee. i'm going to cancel my accidental death & dismemberment insurance today to save a few more kopeks. thank goodness for the free lunches we get at the senior center during the week!

i told your mother that the next time we go out i'll find a nearby temp agency to stop in at to apply for part-time customer service work. there should be plenty of that this time of year, i'm thinking.

you can stop laughing now, children. i just may actually do it! not that there's much hope of a fat old man who has to use the bathroom every hour will get any kind of outside work. but it pays 15 bucks an hour if you can get it. 

truth be told, neither your mother nor i really want to work anymore.  i believe amy would be happy if she could spend all her time doing family history and watching JAG and deana durbin movies, and i would be completely content to just cook and write poetry.

which brings us to my poetical musings this week. i've culled out the most rotten pieces, and now copy the rest for youse guys. as i've said before, I believe my poems tell more about me than anything else i can write.

this one i just wrote, while your mother was upstairs ministering to a lady who's had knee surgery and can't get around much:

When you have the Savior's bliss

it is never hit or miss.

Give your whole heart to his cause

and reject the world's applause;

joy will then be yours always --

peaceful nights and fruitful days.

 

 

 

 

(i can't get the damn italics to turn off now. the following is not a poem.)

o, did i tell you that i am doing cartoons again? not really cartoons -- i have an old book from 1899 full of so-called humorous sketches by artists from punch magazine. so i cut those out and put new captions to 'em. you can find examples on my facebook page. some of them are rather fine, i fancy. most are dreck.

o, and i'm doing a daily 30 second video with your mother -- i just sit and repeat a word or someone's name over and over again for 30 seconds. we get at least 100 views each day. maybe it'll go viral . . .? (don't hold your breath.)

okay, another poem:

There's revelation all around --

It's in the atmosphere.

And if we d not heed it well

it just might disappear.

So when the spirit speaks to you,

please act upon it quick;

otherwise the Lord may use

a large and painful stick!

 

i wrote the above during elder's quorum meeting on sunday on a piece of scratch paper, and then raised my hand to a question and recited it. i do that a lot. 

 

here's a haiku:

 

the cold morning rain

turns to snow on the bushes,

then stars in my eyes.

 

i don't know what it means either, but it got about a dozen likes on twitter from journalists. i find that if i write haiku with an upbeat ending it goes over better than if i end in ambiguity or melancholy. 

 

Who'll control the Congress isn't clear as yet to me.

The Democrats, Republicans, or Africanized bee?

All I know for certain is that when the fracas ceases

us taxpayers will be the ones who pick up all the pieces!

 

i hope you got out to vote. your mother and i get our ballots in the mail, so we fill them out and drop 'em in the mail box. 

 

just one more, i promise . . . 

 

The mighty Musk is holding sway,

and all of us must now obey!

IF he doesn't like your tweet

he'll banish you to far Papeete.

Do not try his will to baulk --

cuz next he's gonna buy TikTok!

 

i actually wrote a series of verses on musk and posted them on twitter, just to see if i could get banned.  no such luck.  it might have made a good publicity stunt.

 

well, i've got chicken enchiladas in the oven to serve for brunch at 11 this morning, so I'd best go attend to them.  

o, and your mother and i have started to binge watch the blacklist on netflix.  that james spader plays a fascinating villain. we just finished the first season. it's not for the kids, but once you get into spader's character it's like potato chips -- you can't stop wanting more!

 

 

don't take any wooden nickels,  dad.