To kick against the pricks

 

To kick against the pricks

is my besetting sin.

I'd rather lose alone

than reach a guided win.

A horse may be excused

for kicking up its heel,

but God expects of me

repentance that is real!

Today's Timerick.

 

To work in shared locations

in cities big and bright

was once the dream of millions --

you might say a birthright.

But then the COVID virus

did trap us all at home

to work online forever

and nevermore to roam.

At first the workers fretted

and thought the setup vain;

they didn't get their work done --

their bosses were a pain.

Now company directors

are loath to push too hard

to place employee bases

back in their own backyard.

Infection rates are soaring;

so workers stay secure

in basement or in kitchen

until there is a cure.

And so big cities dwindle

as people move on out

to live and work in suburbs

(and maybe fish for trout!)

The eateries and taverns

are giving up the ghost,

as workers use their Crockpot

to make their own pot roast.

Nobody takes the buses;

nobody takes the trains.

So trams just sit decaying

in quiet empty lanes.

With office rentals waning

portfolios have flopped

and even active tenants

have rental payments stopped.

New York and San Francisco,

Detroit and spry Dubuque,

are turning into ghost towns --

an optimist's rebuke.

A crystal ball might show us

a future that is bleak

for burgs that once were mighty,

with commerce at its peak.

Perhaps like ancient Carthage

they'll be plowed up for spots

where cabbages will flourish

and peasants dance gavottes.

Too Much Turkey

 

I went to bed so stuffed with bird

my stomach howled, my vision blurred.

The pumpkin pie at last was gone,

the mashed potatoes had been drawn;

the cranberries were in the freezer --

the rolls were crumbs (you'd need a tweezer.)

But still the turkey meat was heaped

in quarts of gravy richly steeped.

I knew tomorrow's turkey medley

would prove loathsome, if not deadly!

I counted turkeys, and not sheep,

to try to get a bit of sleep.

At last I dreamed of turkey slices

used in pagan sacrifices.

Turkey wings were boomerangs;

dread vampires had wishbone fangs.

And then environmental chiefs

used turkey breasts for coral reefs.

The drumsticks turned to war clubs as

the peaceniks used them to play jazz.

Churches all built of turkey necks --

where dieting paid last respects.

When I awoke I had to fix

Alka Seltzer for inner bricks.

That's when I vowed that come what may

I'll be vegan next Turkey Day!

The toaster oven.

 

I'm angry at my friend

for leaving me in such a

predicament:

He told me his toaster oven

was on the fritz,

so I offered to fix it for him

free of charge.

Not that I know anything about

toaster ovens

or wiring or mechanics.

I just wanted to be a big shot.

So he brought it over in his

car and left it with me.

That was a month ago.

It's been sitting in the basement

ever since then.

I'm afraid to touch it,

cuz it might have some 

kind of residual electrical

storage thingy inside it

that will kill me if I mess with it.

I guess I'll just buy him

a new one and say I not

only fixed it but cleaned it

up as well.

Being angry at my friend

for putting me to such an expense,

I went to the park to sit by

the broken fountain.

It's cracked and full of dust

and clinkers.

The dust is silvery and moves

in strange troubling waves

even when there's no wind.

No one comes there, so I

always have the place to myself.

I sat and debated with myself about

the toaster oven. 

If I bought a new one

I'd have to put it on my 

credit card.

And Christmas is coming.

It'll mess up my budget for

gift giving.

Well, my friend's married --

so if I give him a new toaster

it's like I'm giving both him

and his wife a present, 

so I won't have to buy her

one at all. So in the long run

I'm saving money, saving face,

and maybe I'll meet a cute masked

clerk at Walmart, we'll fall in love,

I'll take her to Kankakee in the

fall to see the leaves turn,

and at our wedding we'll laugh

merrily at all the toaster ovens

we're given.

Only by persuasion

Only by persuasion that is gentle, kind, and meek,

can the soul be guided to the noble mountain peak.

Any other method grows resentment, never cheer;

Christ is not a shepherd that employs the crook of fear. 

Today's Timericks.

 

When people get a little dough/their patriotism they want to show/They go to rallies, raise the flag/and mourn how morals now do lag/They proudly claim their wealth declares/that they are Uncle Sammy's heirs/The poor, you see, don't need these gifts/they're busy working double shifts. 

Women wearing headbands at work is now a thing/Silly me -- I thought they were a kindergarten fling/Comprehending fashions, in women or in men/must take an Albert Einstein, or master of deep Zen.  

Enumerating immigrants with shaky legal standing/apparently is headed for a court reviewed crash landing/If the Census cuts them, then with demographics skewed/Congress isn't worth a bowl of carrion dog food. 

Hard Boiled Eggs.

 

When it rained hard boiled eggs

I said nothing.

It took me all morning

to scrape 'em off the fence

and driveway.

I said nothing because

'the quiet man triumphs

over all.'

So my Zen master told me.

A month later a flock

of moths

descended on my children

and ate them.

There was nothing left

but their shoes 

and braces.

My Zen master said

'If you let them go

you will keep them always.'

So I did.

But when the maple tree

in the backyard asked

me for a cigarette

I lost it.

"I don't smoke, you ninny!"

I shouted at it.

"Don't burst a vein, dude"

it said right back to me.

"I'll bum one off the lilac bush."

Just then my Zen master

came out of my house

(he lived with us, in

the basement)

and began to chant something.

But I cut him off with a blow

to the head with a garden

rake.

I suspected he was trying

to get my wife to dye

her hair blonde

and then run off with her.

When they questioned me 

down at the police station

I said I was looking for the

Pure Land,

and nothing more.

So they let me go.

And then I let go as well.

I desire nothing.

I think of nothing.

I am nothing.

And a man

made out of pillows

has just climbed 

through the window.

Today's timericks.

 

Sunday always meant to me/as a child a brilliant spree/of funny paper illustrations/in such gaudy variations/as Prince Valiant and B.C./Nothing like it on TV/Peanuts and old Andy Capp/Innocence and wicked snap/Hagar and poor Beetle Bailey/The Sunday colors blazed so gayly/But nowadays online cartoons/on Sunday are the merest ruins/No Ben-Day dots, just pastel shades/it's like a circus sans parades/I read instead the Op-Ed page/and really start to feel my age. 

Cafe owners feel the bite/of restrictions getting tight/Most will close, but some rebel/serving heedless clientele/Though the food may taste like nectar/rest'raunts are the biggest vector/so if you go out to eat/prepare your Maker soon to meet.

If you want to take the bus/you may be inclined to cuss/at the lack of public transit/from the way your city plans it/Budgets have been slashed so deep/it is faster just to creep/on your tootsies and not wait/hours for a ride that's late. 

Electric cars mean guillotine/for them as run on gasoline/Assembly also is a cinch/putting workers in a pinch/Unions sure face abrogation/with the coming automation/Blue collars become quite sparse/as they're thrown out on their arse.  

Surely he has borne our griefs

 

Our griefs are borne by shoulders strong.

By one who chose to do no wrong.

At the gates of dawn he stands

with kindly smile and helping hands.

His love for us is past perfection;

our hope through him finds resurrection.

#givethanks Expressions of my personal gratitude.

 

Here is a compilation of my posts this past week on social media with the hashtag #givethanks:

Most of my children have married and decided to have children of their own; I'm grateful for their courage and faith in starting families in a world that seems so uncertain and dark. And, of course, I'm just crazy-mad delighted to have grandchildren to spoil!

I will forever be grateful to my first radio boss, Oscar Halvorson. He took a big chance and hired me wet behind the ears to do the news at KGCX in Williston ND back in 1979. A farmer at heart, he once told me he won title to the radio station in a poker game.

As the sunset lights up the mountains in my backyard, I give thanks that because of the Savior my own personal sunset, whenever it may come, promises to be peaceful & happy, no matter how the world spins out of control.

Kevin Bickford: We started together as first of Mays at Ringling just about fifty years ago, and though he's gone I still think of his goofy sweetness and steady kindness to me and many others over the long and harried years. He proved it’s impossible to be generous to a fault.  Roofus T. Goofus, I'm thankful to have been a part of your jeweled society.

I grew up with long, cold, unforgiving winters in Minnesota; so now my old bones are grateful indeed for the mild winters here in Provo -- where I can wear sandals year-round!

For many years, when I worked as a clown on mud shows, I slept in the back of trucks or vans -- so I am truly thankful to have a soft, clean, warm, comfortable bed of my own to sleep in tonight. I still think of it as an unbelievable luxury sometimes. 

Thanks be to God for the abundance and variety of food in our rich and blessed country!

Thank you, Sun,

for sometimes hiding

your raw power

While still revealing your

Beauty.

Thank you, Mountain,

for being you --

and letting me

Be me. 

 

I am thankful for my old friends who have reached out to me through social media in the past few years. Renewing acquaintanceships with them is a sweet sweet blessing (except when they're trying to sell me something!)

 

 

I'm grateful to have been able to make so many free meals for my friends and neighbors here at Valley Villa for the past 7 months -- it was fun and flavorful!

 

 

Since I don't drive anymore, I am most grateful for friends and family members who give me rides to the doctor and the market, and sometimes just take me out for a spin to get some fresh air. God bless you all!

 

 

I have lived abroad, in places where I couldn't drink the tap water for fear of disease or poisoning. I am so grateful today to live here in a city of abundant and clean tap water. Bottoms up!

 

 

My monthly Social Security check allows me to live with comfort and dignity. I'm thankful for the wise and compassionate leaders who founded this program nearly a century ago.

 

 

I'm thankful for my inexpensive generic prescriptions that keep me functioning on a daily basis, and for the doctors who minister to me. I feel very blessed to be in the hands of competent medical practitioners, and not deluded quacks.

 

 

As a harum-scarum young man my life was transformed by the friendship and example of Tim Holst, who introduced me to the gospel of Jesus Christ. Thank God for his compelling testimony and quiet courage; I owe him everything! I never had a better friend.

 

 

I love reading, but my poor old eyes begin to dwindle, so I am profoundly grateful for my Kindle; it allows me still to roam the Elysian Fields of literature where I am always welcome.

 

 

I am thankful for the amazing view from my patio each day. I grew up in the flat Midwest, so this mountain vista graces my later days with a strength and beauty I drink in like nectar.

 

 

 

I am most grateful for my journalist friends who take a moment from time to time to tell me they enjoy my light topical verses. It makes me feel I'm serving a useful purpose here on Earth.

 

 

Dumped in a homeless shelter 7 years ago, I knew a despair deeper than any mine shaft. When a friend heard of my predicament he straightaway invited me to live with him here in Provo. My gratitude to him is endless.

 

 

I'm grateful for the homely aroma and comforting warmth of clean laundry fresh out of the dryer. (For the folding, not so much!)

 

 

After the divorce I was estranged from my children for many years. But tonight I'm having my youngest child Daisy over for slow cooker pork roast and veggies. How grateful I am to be getting to know them again!

 

 

The more I read the Book of Mormon the more I come to appreciate its beauty and utility. It would be impossible for me to live a happy life today without its precepts. Thanks be to God for such scripture!

 

 

I'm so grateful for the Provo City Housing Authority; they have provided me with subsidized housing that is clean, safe, and comfortable. Without their help I'd be homeless!  God bless them.

 

 

As a young man I was given the privilege of serving as a missionary for two years for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints in the Kingdom of Thailand. I was blessed with the society of a beautiful and affectionate people, who it was an honor to serve. I may live in Utah now, but part of me is always going to stay in "The Land of Ten Thousand Smiles.”

 

 

My parents were not religious, but they both worked hard to give me a stable home, good food, and warm clothes. I'm grateful for their unwavering watchcare. 

 

 

As a young man I worked for Ringling Brothers, Barnum & Bailey Circus as a clown. What a great privilege and blessing it was to be paid to make people laugh! I associated with people whose zest for humor was unparalleled. I always remember those days of slapstick and greasepaint with gratitude and wonder.

I lost my son Irvin to diabetes. I'm so grateful my mourning is tempered by the gift of eternal life for all of us that stems from Jesus Christ. Because of the Savior I know I can take my little boy in my arms again after this present life is done. I await that day with joy.

Inspired by President Russell M. Nelson's video:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i51gcWCs-Ho