—AND YOU CAN TELL EVERYBODY, THAT THIS IS YOUR SONG 

  

A group of professional people posed this question to a group of 4 to 8-year-olds, 'What does love mean?' The answers they got were broader, deeper, and more profound than anyone could have ever imagined. 

 

 'When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and paint her toenails anymore... So, my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis. That's love.' Rebecca - age 8  

 

'When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth.' Billy - age 4 

 

 'Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other.' Karl - age 5

  

'Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs.' Chrissy - age 6 

 

 'Love is what makes you smile when you're tired.' Terri - age 4 

 

 'Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK.' Danny - age 8 

 

 'Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and just listen.' Bobby - age 7  

 

 'If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate.' Nikka - age 6 

 

 'Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it every day.' Noelle - age 7 

 

 'Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well.' Tommy - age 6 

 

 'During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling. He was the only one doing that. I wasn't scared anymore.' Cindy - age 8 

 

 'My mommy loves me more than anybody. You don't see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night.' Clare - age 6 

 

 'Love is when Mommy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken.' Elaine - age 5 

 

 'Love is when Mommy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford.' Chris - age 7 

 

 'Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day.' Mary Ann - age 4 

 

 'I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones.' Lauren - age 4 

 

 'When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you.' Karen - age 7 

 

 'Love is when Mommy sees Daddy on the toilet and she doesn't think it's gross...' Mark - age 6 

 

 'You really shouldn't say 'I love you' unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget.' Jessica - age 8 

 

 And the final one: A four-year-old child, whose next-door neighbor was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife. Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old gentleman's yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there. When his mother asked what he had said to the neighbor, the little boy said, 'Nothing, I just helped him cry.' 

 

—SHAKE IT OFF, SHAKE IT OFF

 

 

…I’m a little loose, but at least I can hold onto a glass with one hand. So, there’s that.

 

…When I have a blue day, I just usually swallow it. I swallow hard. It’d be best to talk to someone, but I’m still shy about sharing my feelings. even at this late date.

 

…You can’t hate Trevor Noah, you just can’t. There are lots of others, but not Trevor.

 

…Sometimes it’s awfully hard to find your way to Yes.

 

…Come to think of it, people who are usually dicks aren’t all that bad if you’re able to take a couple of breaths first.

 

…Don’t we all die hundreds of times before we actually die?

 

…Who really knows the purpose of suffering?

 

…Getting older, those minutes flickering by, it’s best to use each one well.

 

…Maybe I don’t even know why.

 

…Sometimes, during conversation, it’s just okay to listen.

 

…It’s ironic how a near-death experience can bring people closer together.

 

…“If we keep looking back, we will die in a way and there is still some living to do.” Paul Lynch, Prophet Song

 

…What you take with you is always the things that can’t be replaced.

 

…I had lunch with one of my best friends the other day and he was telling me about a friend of his who had bought a bottle or Leonetti wine, (extremely expensive) years back, but they hadn’t opened it. My friend said, “I’m coming over tonight, I’m bringing pizza and we’re drinking that fucking wine. What are you waiting for?”

That’s a good mantra for life: What are you waiting for?

 

…It’s important to choose your questions carefully.

 

…You can poke all the holes you want, but I’ll still be right here.

 

…"Hey, I am learning what it means to ride condemned.

I may be breaking up. I am doing 85 outside the kingdom

Of heaven, under the overpass and passed over,

The past is over and I’m over the past. My odometer

Is broken, can you help me?"

- Terrance Hayes

 

…Everything seemed so much easier when I was younger. It’s harder now, but it’s still good.

 

…You know you’re aligned when you tell your best friend ELO is going on the road and his response is “Holy Shit,” and then he’s bought tickets and made travel accommodations before you’ve even brushed your teeth. 

 

…If I could be remembered as a good listener, that would be enough.

 

…Most all of my writer friends are scoring, and I’m genuinely happy about that.

 

…Sports matter. They do. I’m sorry, my liberal, writer friends. But, they change the atmosphere. They create a distraction. They make you root for something bigger than yourself. Sometimes, if you’re lucky, they even make you feel young again.

 

…There are a lot of things I don’t want to know about, and I’m sure the feeling is similar when it comes to me.

 

…I’m probably always going to be the guy who has the last drink, instead of the last word.

 

…I called one of my best friends the other day. The conversation lasted over an hour. I might have spoken six sentences, and that was okay.

 

…If there’s a way out of this, I still haven’t found it.

 

…“There’s nothing you can do to make me love you less,” is a Biblical quote, but I love it nonetheless.

 

…We can’t live in a world of indifference, or if we can, we can’t.

 

…I know I know I know, I need to lighten up, but sometimes it’s hard. 

 

…Some of those country songs—man, they take you out at the knees.

 

…I think it’s a macho, or a youth thing, not to like country music. And that’s a shame.

 

…What I never figured out was how some people can bury it, and never have a trouble further. Jelly. 

 

…A lot of times I’m still in that strawberry field, knees on stones, or else up on a ladder with a roped bucket over my shoulder picking pie cherries. I’ve learned that I’m grateful for that.

 

…I don’t believe in ghosts, but I often hear, and see the silhouette of Lucy, when I sleep in her room.

 

…If you think too much about your sins, the ones you’ve committed, you're basically doomed. It’s best you give yourself grace and realize you are human after all.

 

…Can it be true? I’m actually going to see Jeff Lynne twice in less than a year.

 

…It’s so late, I might not never get it right.

 

…I wonder where all of the stars are hanging out tonight, because they’re not here.

 

…I wish I could be an extrovert, or a faux extrovert, as I was at N, but that doesn’t work anymore. I actually think I was sad when I was at my brightest, but I just brushed it off.

 

…When you’re hurting, don’t your friends come to get you real soon, to keep you out of the gloom?

 

…Thank God for best friends.

 

….I’m not always writing to you, and if you think I am, I sorry. But there’s an unknown that knows me pretty well.

...I'm talking to you.

 

…You watch someone die, and there’s no going back from it. It’s an end, and hopefully a new beginning.

 

…I think Pen Pals is one of the best things ever. Just to hear something, from someone, something honest, well, that goes along way.

 

…I’m trying to check myself when I get angry or annoyed. I’m trying to think what triggered it, who triggered it. And if I love them, I’m trying to set it aside.

 

…We can’t always get what we want, or deserve, but we can always reach out our hand in humility, and hope someone clasps it.

 

…I get lonely all the time, but I really wouldn’t want to be on the phone ten-hours a day.

 

…I’m really not sure what Jesus is going to do with me when he sees me, Him or Peter.

 

…“Make a place to sit down.

Sit down. Be quiet.

You must depend upon

affection, reading, knowledge,

skill – more of each

than you have – inspiration,

work, growing older, patience,

for patience joins time

to eternity.

…"Accept what comes from silence.

Make the best you can of it.”

– Wendell Berry

 

…I wish people wouldn’t fuck with you, like play juvenile mind games with you. The world is already blurry enough.

 

…That life over there, that was someone else’s.

 

…Tomorrow is a new day. And aren’t we so lucky for that?   

 

 

 

 

—I GRABBED THE RAILS WHILE CHOKING UP

 

 

 

Bartender

 

 

It began with her posting pics. At first, she only got a few “Likes.” But if she took one without wearing a bra, her count soared.

A friend said, “I’m not gay or anything, but you have beautiful breasts. You should be a Cam girl.”

“What’s that?” she asked.

A year in, she was making $200,000, money rolling in like cheap regrets. All she had to do was disrobe, pose, and sometimes insert where it didn’t feel comfortable.

Each boyfriend asked what she did.

“I work in service,” she said, hopeless for a better answer.

“Waitress?” “Hostess?” “Flight Attendant?” “Bartender?” 

They always had so many questions. 

When she told one the truth, he ghosted her like a bird shot straight out of the sky.

 So, from then on, she always said, “Bartender.” The claim seemed both true and not true. 

The man who tipped the most was nobody she could actually see, because he pixeled his image out, which was fine, which was rare, but not entirely uncommon.

When he showed up at her door, she was in a bathrobe, about ready to get to work. 

She recognized his Syracuse t-shirt, the bottom stain still there. He looked like a cherub, a Mormon without the black tie and white shirt. But then he raised a knife and slid inside.

She served him drinks the rest of the day, until her gin and vodka went dry. 

Afterward, while he snored on her couch, she borrowed his knife. The handle was large and stiff. It throbbed inside her palm as she lofted it, right before she plunged, and plunged, again and again. 

 

 —STAND UP. 

 

…I’m two-thirds through The Booker Prize winning novel, “Prophet Song,” which is about a modern-day version of the Nazis, little by little, and with cunning strategy, taking over most of Europe, with hopes of eventually conquering the entire world.

It’s a gripping book, but definitely leads to anxiety.

Sadly, it also feels prescient, much as “The Handmaid’s Tale” does. 

 

I never really get political here, and I might lose quite a few readers for this, but doesn’t everybody have to try to expose lunacy when they encounter it? Why would anyone want T (I have vowed to never write his name) to be President? For the life of me, I can’t understand it. And he’s supposedly a Christian, the same one who calls his former UN Ambassador “Bird Brain.” He branded Elizabeth Warren “Pocahontas.” He calls our current President “Crooked Joe,” too lame to come up with something different than the “Crooked Hilary” tag he used to use. He makes fun of Joe’s stuttering. He mocks his gaffes and questions his state of mind when T’s own father suffered from Alzheimer’s. It’s all such a shame.  

I mean, who does that? A Christian? Would we be fine with our children poking fun of others? Would we be fine with them ridiculing their opponents? Women? Making up flagrant lies? Vowing to punish our rivals until they were “dust”? Refusing to label injustice, injustice (Navalny)? Offering to pardon insurrectionists who stormed the Capitol and killed a policeman, instead labeling them “Patriots”? Calling immigrants “Animals”? Bullying critics? Endless lying? Would Jesus do any of those things, and the countless others T has done, and does on a daily basis? I don’t think so.

Some Christian…

He’s an entitled, pampered toddler, with an ego so big he couldn’t fit it into the Grand Canyon, yet he’s adored by a flock of, sadly, bamboozled followers who, if we’re speaking Christianese, “Know not what they do.” 

 

…T is dangerous. Very dangerous. He’s a flaming narcissist, a pathological liar, not very smart whatsoever, though he has somehow hoodwinked the labor middleclass while hijacking the American flag. He doesn’t care about America at all. All he cares about is himself. What’s there not to see, not to hear? Just listen, or watch that mf^cker for five minutes, if you can stand it that long. He’s borderline insane. I’m serious here. He is the epitome of a completely irrational and self-absorbed person with an entourage of people, near him or nearby, who suck his d*ck even though they know he’s a lying, cheating, scumbag.

 

The idea that any normal person would vote for him is revolting to me. The saddest thing wouldn’t be that he got RE-elected, but that human beings, with functional brains, actually voted for him. 

 

There are literally thousands of examples I could cite to bolster this case, but here’s a current one, which again, underscores what a threat he is. 

 

In an interview with Donald Trump that aired over the weekend, Fox News host Howard Kurtz presented Trump with a not-exactly-novel theory: that Trump uses “over the top, sometimes inflammatory language” to draw attention.

Trump conceded that “if you don’t use certain words, that maybe are not very nice words, nothing will happen.”

The weekend provided ample evidence of that dynamic, particularly when Trump invited yet another tempest with his violent rhetoric. This time, he warned of a “bloodbath” if he loses in November. Trump’s allies claim he’s being taken out of context and unfairly attacked.

To recap: Appearing at a rally in Ohio, Trump riffed on his proposal for a 100 percent tariff on Chinese-made cars to protect the U.S. auto industry.

“Now, if I don’t get elected,” he continued, “it’s going to be a bloodbath for the whole — that’s going to be the least of it. It’s going to be a bloodbath for the country.”

Here’s what we can say: Trump might indeed have been speaking metaphorically in this case. But the broader context here is vital. And that context is that Trump has repeatedly invoked the prospect of actual violence by his supporters while speaking about similar circumstances — his losing or facing criminal accountability, for example. We also saw a pronounced example of his supporters seizing on his rhetoric when they stormed the Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021.

Which makes it much more difficult to dismiss the “bloodbath” comment as overheated rhetoric. Trump is, at the very least, deliberately playing with fire. And this is merely the most recent example.

Trump backers and even some conservative Trump critics dismissed the comment as, more or less, standard-issue political rhetoric. Some suggested that Trump was merely talking about a “bloodbath” for the auto industry (even though he was clearly saying the “bloodbath” would extend beyond that industry).

Regardless, a focus on the one word misses the point. It’s not that this isolated comment is particularly egregious; it’s that it is merely the latest example of this kind of rhetoric. And the rhetoric is often more direct:

• Trump in 2016 said that if he were denied the presidential nomination at the GOP convention, “I think you’d have riots.”
• Trump in November 2020 responded to an adverse ruling by the Pennsylvania Supreme Court by saying it would “induce violence in the streets.” (Trump later expanded, saying, “Bad things will happen, and bad things lead to other type things. It’s a very dangerous thing for our country.”)
• Trump warned last March of “potential death & destruction” if he were charged by the Manhattan district attorney. He also mocked those who urged his supporters to stay peaceful, saying, “OUR COUNTRY IS BEING DESTROYED, AS THEY TELL US TO BE PEACEFUL!”
• Trump warned in August, after the search of his Mar-a-Lago estate, that “terrible things are going to happen.” He later promoted a comment from Sen. Lindsey Graham (R-S.C.) that there would be “riots in the streets” if Trump were charged.
• Trump in January warned of “bedlam in the country” if the criminal charges against him succeeded. Days earlier, he targeted efforts to remove him from the ballot using the 14th Amendment, saying: “Because if we don’t [get treated fairly], our country’s in big, big trouble. Does everybody understand what I’m saying? I think so.”

And this doesn’t even account for the many, many examples of his alluding more suggestively to righteous violence by his supporters. He does this a lot. Sometimes it’s direct; sometimes it’s veiled and carries with it the plausible deniability that he craves.

But is it really ridiculous to suggest that the guy who warned of “riots,” “violence in the streets” and “death & destruction” if he were wronged might be gesturing in that direction again? Of course not.

More than that, history gives weight to comments like these. And that history includes Trump’s supporters turning violent after the 2020 election — and after they appeared to interpret his comments as encouragement.

At a 2020 presidential debate, Trump was asked to repudiate violence by white supremacists and the Proud Boys, a far-right group. Trump responded by telling the Proud Boys not to “stand down,” as had been suggested, but to “stand back and stand by.” That set off a fuss similar to the one we see today, with Trump allies and media critics asserting that this was much ado about nothing — just some awkward phrasing! For days, Trump and his White House resisted calls to clarify.

Months later, the Proud Boys — who in real time appeared to interpret Trump’s comments as a call to action — played a central role in the Capitol insurrection.

Also interpreting Trump’s various comments as a call to action, according to their legal defenses: many other Jan. 6 defendants.

With that kind of history, it’s certainly a choice for Trump to keep talking like this.

 

—IT’S THE END OF WORLD AS WE KNOW IT, AND I FEEL FINE

 

 

Let’s Dance

 

The three Bulimics huddled together over the fire, huffing up smoke like woebegone junkies while trying to channel Buddha. It was a good time to purge, but then it was always the perfect moment to purge, no matter the actual hour.

Behind them, the whole globe glowed, the entire planet enflamed, every country alit, afire, except theirs, though unruly winds were swinging their wily arms their way.

“We should consider eating something,” one said.

“I have half a cashew,” another one said.

So, being friends, the Bulimics shared the nut, which was actually a legume, but diced it up to near-powder, though they quickly coughed up the dust upon swallowing.

“That stung like a bitch,” one said.

“It weighed a ton,” another one said. “And I’d already had breakfast.”

“We might be lost causes,” the third one said, stirring the fire with a crooked, arthritic twig.

“Why do you think we hate food so much?” one asked, as if only talking to the flames.

“Because we’re doomed regardless. Because other people, in so many other countries, are starving right now.”

“Because, Duh,” said the third one. “Because we have body issues, and it’s important to be thin, especially during Armageddon. We’re Americans first, right? And Zombies might not find us too attractive or appetizing if we look like coat racks or scarecrows. Duh.”

Though they stoked no wood on the burnt-out heap, the flares grew enormous, like the too-massive biceps of Hercules.

 A flock of shadows stutter-stepped toward them, snarling, frothing, as if they were both famished and furious. As if they were an omen that should have been noticed decades before.

When the Zombies finally reached the firepit, rather than munching on the alive-flesh before them, they hugged the Bulimics, then, at last, they went for their necks as Zombies are wont to do, when constipated or in a pinch.

But nothing happened. No one died, not anyone who hadn’t already been dead. The flames flickered like seductive Flamenco dancers curling on a dancefloor during their finale, and so the Bulimics and Zombies slow-danced for hours more, until the wood turned to cinder and sparked, spitting out truncated sounds like Pop! Pop! Pick! Pop! Pick! Blip!

One of the Bulimics hummed Peaches and Herb’s, Reunited, while another sang Bowie, in a whisper, Young Americans, then, Let’s Dance.  

Hearing these sounds and verses, the Zombies became even more languid, entranced or bored, somewhat sexually aroused perhaps, because they understood for once, that this was the end of everything, the end of the world, and yet it seemed like there was more time, if only they could just hold on, hold on to whomever was next to them, ask, What’s the matter? ask for help, ask, Are we really all that different?

 —HEY WINDOW PANE, DO YOU REMEMBER HOW SWEET IT USED TO BE?

 

 

Charlatan, All You Want to do is Dance 

 

How can you hate the sun you love and adore, just because it’s hitting you in the eyes and burning your cheek? Haven’t you asked, going on months now, for her to show her face, to arrive, goddamn it? And now she’s here, wearing a fierce yolk-yellow gown, twirling while remaining motionless, and all you want to do is dance away from her, escape her luminous swirl, her potency and sheen. Didn’t you always worship her? Didn’t you miss her terribly? You weren’t a charlatan, were you? You weren’t one of those men who say things they don’t mean, were you? How can you shy away from your beloved and keep a straight face while all she does is belittle herself, bowing and bowing and bowing down to you some more, her seams ripping across the sky, the color of blood that has reluctantly turned yellow? 

 --TOMORROW WE’LL RUN A LITTLE BIT FASTER

 

…Eric Carmen died on Monday. He was all of 74.

He was my second idol, music or otherwise, just behind David Cassidy. So, it was a sad day and a bit of a sad week.

I wanted to be him—to have that voice, that look, to be so romantic in song, so suave and vulnerable. 

If you don’t get this, well, you don’t get this, and I’m sorry, though I’m not really apologizing…

 

 

Boats Against the Current 

 

I know it's over
You know it's over
We're just going through the motions
But we're sailing separate oceans, world's apart
And you know it's breaking my heart

I was a dreamer
You were a dreamer
But perfection is consuming
And it seems we're only human after all
And we've both been taking the fall

But tomorrow, we'll run a little bit faster
Tomorrow, we're going to find what we're after at last
Feelings that we left in the past
There's romance in the sunset
We're boats against the current to the end

Maybe we're older
Maybe we're colder
So we disregard solutions
While we cling to our illusions once again
And we keep remembering when

Seasons are changing
Oh, reasons are changing
But the story isn't ending
So we find ourselves pretending one more day
Oh, while the years keep slipping away

Oh, but tomorrow, we'll run a little bit faster
Tomorrow, we're going to find what we're after at last
Feelings that we left in the past
There's romance in the sunset
We're boats against the current to the end

Oh yeah, tomorrow, we'll run a little bit faster
Tomorrow, we're going to find what we're after at last
Feelings that we left in the past
There's romance in the sunset
We're boats against the current to the end
There's romance in the sunset
We're boats against the current to the end

There's romance in the sunset
We're boats against the current to the end

 

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ITLZiaxNCKw

 

—EXCUSE ME, BUT CAN I BE YOU FOR A WHILE?

  

 

…“Here, let me help. You seem a little unstable.”

 

…If it seems like you’re bitching a little bit, it means you’re bitching.

 

…I’m dying out, but the flowers sure look pretty.

 

…If you watched CNN and played a drinking game where you had to have a shot every time the name “Donald Trump” was said, you’d be blackout drunk within three minutes.

 

…I need somebody to help me, and not necessarily 911.

 

…“Watch the water roll around the drain.”

 

…I’m definitely getting older. Now when I open up “People” magazine I scarcely know any of the people in it. 

 

…It’s pretty strange, and unsettling, to have a white van parked in your driveway and not know who it belongs to.

 

…I could probably play, “Life in a Northern Town” on repeat and never tire of it.  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5UXnulANF8g&list=RD5UXnulANF8g&start_radio=1

 

… “I've noticed that when people are joking they're usually dead serious, and when they're serious, they're usually pretty funny.” Jim Morrison

 

…Getting too many vowels at once, or too many consonants—that’s the worst.  

 

…Just let me play, and when I’m done, I’ll be done. 

 

...I need more books like I need more ailments, or troubles.

 

…Poor Eric Carmen. I miss him already.

 

…“Why does something have to mean anything?” That’s a statement I think about a lot.

 

…I gave it a good go while I could.

 

...She’s so much stronger than me, but then that’s not surprising.

 

…Time for a nap. Have I ever said how much I love learning to nap? 

 

…It’s easy to let the gray rain scour you, but you have to embrace it, and look for the beauty in it.

 

…Sometimes a hug from someone you love, or care about deeply, is the only thing you need to keep going. 

 

…If these walls would just say something, anything at all, it would make a big difference.

 

…Dogs don’t act like they have a worry in the world, and I’m happy about that.

 

…School’s out for summer. School’s out forever.

 

…I remember in grade school how if you acted up, or were perceived to have acted up, you got sent to the Principal’s office. He had a paddle there, and he used it vigorously.

 

…Pick your poison, but stick with your pick, otherwise you’ll end up a hypocritical dick.

 

…So much glass, so many waves.

 

…I think I might need a replacement.

 

…What a jerk you have to be to complain about all of this, any of this.

 

…Maybe yoga’s the answer.

 

…I had some really vivid, and horrible dreams last night. I wouldn’t share them with anyone, not even a therapist.

 

…You can’t help what you dream, can you? I mean, it’s not your fault, is it?

 

…I have a lot of conversations with a therapist I no longer see, and it’s okay that he never answers back.

 

…Someone recently told me that there are no flat mirrors, and they’re probably right.

 

…Coffee sounds good, but my hands don’t think so.

 

….You know things are dicey when a Styptic Pencil becomes as important as vitamins.

 

…If I never have another piece published, I’m okay with that, which is something, the younger me, would never have said. 

 

…Poor Stevie Nicks, waving her tail around, always left out of the fun.

 

…Why do I always feel worst after good things happen?

 

…Into your restless arms…