May 17: Lost Remote, Saint Anthony's Help, Paul Muldoon, "Cradle Song for Asher"

Bet you thought you weren't going to hear from me again today.  Well, you were wrong.  I've had a very busy afternoon and evening.  Lots of cleaning.  Lots of errands.  I went for a run.  And I just spent an hour and a half searching for the remote to my DVD player.  I went through a garbage bag that was stuffed with rotten banana peels and strawberry tops.  No to mention two bottles of empty corn syrup and a whole bunch of sticky paper towels and magazines.  It sucked, and I still didn't find my remote.

I need to give this one up to Saint Anthony, the patron saint of lost things.  I've already said a prayer to him, and I'm waiting for an answer.  I need to still myself--my mind and body.  Then I will find that friggin' remote.

In the mean time, I'm going to turn to poetry.  To be specific, I'm turning to Paul Muldoon, winner for the Pulitzer Prize for his collection of poems Moy Sand and Gravel.  I found a little poem in that book that brought peace to my remote-obsessed mind.

Saint Marty hopes it brings you a little peace tonight, as well.

Cradle Song for Asher

When they cut your birth cord yesterday
it was I who drifted away.

Now I hear your name (in Hebrew, "blest")
as yet another release of ballast

and see, beyond your wicker
gondola, campfires, cities, whole continents flicker.

Help me find that damn remote!

January 25: Lost Remote, Lost Time, Lost My Mind

Our TV remote is lost, and it pisses me off.  I always put the remotes back in the same place just so that they don't get misplaced.  I may sound like some kind of anal-retentive, neat freak.  I can own that.  However, that doesn't help me at the moment.  The remote is still M.I.A.  And I don't know where to start looking.

If I don't find it soon, I'm going to drive myself crazy.  I have other things I need to accomplish tonight.  All the time I will lose searching for this stupid remote is time I could have spent preparing for class or reading a book or saying my prayers and devotions.  Instead, I will be driving myself insane looking for a rectangular piece of plastic with buttons, because that's just the kind of person I am.

Okay, my wife just found the remote.  Life is much better.  I know what you must be thinking right now:  What kind of weirdo loses his mind over a television remote?  Well, it's a matter of control.  There are very few things in my life of which I feel in control.  Keeping things neat and in their places is just my way of...

Who am I kidding?  I am a freak.  I admit it.  I own it.

But Saint Marty is a freak with a TV remote.