(A Shoddy Tale About Beans and Mamma’s Dear Boy)
Jack S. is looking for a room
and will pay twice more
than what I'm asking for.
has the beans I need
A prize smile too
I might add.
I have just the room for him
sun kissed daily
To remind him of his mother
A pull up bar on the doorway
To remind him he's a man.
He's running a marathon
A twenty-something genius
Dropping extra pounds.
Go get' em son!
Your profile's kind'a lean
But I'm willing to talk beans.
Nimbly gliding on his feet
Keeping pace, let's…
I was waiting at the bus stop this morning to catch the R2. Car trouble led me there, plus the need to get to work.
I was looking at a dreary overcast, and it smelled as though rain was afoot. I had my umbrella on hand.
There was a man at the bus stop with dark shades and a walking stick waiting for the bus also.
It was nearing the bus' scheduled arrival time, but feeling a bit impatient, I asked the man if the bus was normally on time.
He greeted me and remarked that it smelled as though…
Few words in the English language capture the concept of homeland allegiance so powerfully as the word "patriot" . The term is of Greek origin and it contains the root word "patros" which in Greek means father. Both the greek word for countryman, πατριώτη (patrioti), and the greek word for country, πατρίδa (patritha) are rooted in this familial term. A basic understanding of the the term patriot is of paramount importance in understanding the mindset of the American settlers who resurrected the term in the late 18th century.
In terms of language, race and ethnicity, the colonial leaders who would…
This morning, the wide grin of a little boy in a smart batman costume caught my eye. The joy on the child's face is unlike that of any boy photos I have in my collection. Beneath the photo appeared a proud grandpa's FB boast "Have you ever seen a happier Batman?"
The man making the boast, roughly 25 years my senior, is the father of 4 boys and 3 girls, the oldest "boy" a childhood friend. I don't know how many grands, grandpa Joe has. …
What we’ll miss once “the heat” is gone.
I am a white male, 59. I have never been a victim of violence in my adult life, and my only brushes with the law have been a garden variety of the sort involving vehicle operation and ownership. Except for one instance involving a random scan of my tags, all my police encounters have seemed reasonably warranted.
Nevertheless, I can’t recall an encounter with male police officers that ever gave me the warm fuzzies. More than once, they were put off by my decision to pull off on a side road rather…
journalism grad, literature buff, sports nut, and D. C. suburbanite