July 11: Train Ride, Bayliss Public Library, Reading

Billy and Valencia went to sleep nestled like spoons, and Billy traveled in time back to the train ride he had taken in 1944--from maneuvers in South Carolina to his father's funeral in Ilium.  He hadn't seen Europe or combat yet.  This was still in the days of steam locomotives.

Billy had to change trains a lot.  All the trains were slow.  The coaches stunk of coal smoke and rationed tobacco and rationed booze and the farts of people eating wartime food.  The upholstery of the iron seats was bristly, and Billy couldn't sleep much.  He got to sleep soundly when he was only three hours from Ilium, with his legs splayed toward the entrance of the busy dining car.

The porter woke him up when the train reached Ilium  Billy staggered off with his duffel bag, and then he stood on the station platform next to the porter, trying to wake up.

"Have a good nap, did you?" said the porter.

"Yes," said Billy.

"Man," said the porter, "you sure had a hard-on."

Okay, I am way too tired to even deal with the last line of that passage.  Billy is on a trip home.  I am on a trip to Sault St. Marie, on the east end of the Upper Peninsula.  As far as I know, no hard-ons were on display today.  Just four-and-a-half hours of driving, with one short breakfast break.

I came to the Sault to read at the Bayliss Public Library as part of its Poetry Reading Series.  It is an event that has been months, and many e-mails, in the planning.  I received such a lovely reception from a group of about 15 or 20 people.  (That may not seem like such a big audience, but, in poetry circles, that's almost the equivalent of a Rolling Stones concert.)  So excited.

I read for about an hour, old stuff and new stuff.  Sold about four or five books.  Not bad.  Got a chance to connect with some friends, old and new.  And I got snickerdoodles.  I couldn't have asked for a better night.

I am a little exhausted now.  It has been a long day, and tomorrow promises to be busy, too.  We are going to tour the Soo Locks, possibly go on a boat ride.  Then we're planning to stop at Tahquamenon Falls on the way home.  Maybe take a few pictures.

Saint Marty is thankful tonight for poet friends. 

March 18: "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring," God's Love Number Twenty-Nine, Vacation

Ives kneeling, the choir started to sing "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring," and his head tipped back.

Ives is at the end of his life.  He's tired, but happy.  At peace.  After decades of pain and grief, Ives can listen to music, pray, attend church without the torment of grief and anger.  In some ways, he has reached a kind of enlightenment, backed up by a church choir.

It has been another really long day.  My head hurts, and all I can think about is getting to Friday morning.  I will be getting the hell out of town for a few days.  No work.  No teaching.  Just eating, reading, drinking, and more eating.  Oh, and my daughter's dance competition.

I have not reached any kind of enlightenment like Ives.  For the past three or four days, I've been praying that I can somehow give my worries over to God.  After all, I can't control whether I get one or two classes to teach in the fall.  I can't control where I'm told to work in the medical office.  Yet, I'm losing sleep, getting headaches because I'm powerless.

So, tonight, with my head throbbing and my eyes burning, I'm grateful for the promise of some time off.  A vacation.  That's God's love number twenty-nine.

Maybe Saint Marty will find some enlightenment on the road.

I wonder if they sell enlightenment at Starbucks

May 21: Tying Up Loose Ends

I'm going to tie up some loose ends with this post.

First, I did find my DVD remote last Friday night, shortly after I said my prayer to Saint Anthony, the patron saint of lost things.  In my fervor to straighten and clean, I had taken the remote and stored with with some of my son's toys.  In my defense, the remote was sitting in a pile of plastic hammers and saws and cars.

Second, the reading last night at Peter White Public Library went really well.  It wasn't my greatest moment ever as a reader, but I didn't suck, either.  Afterward, I went out for drinks with the other writers from the reading and ended up drinking one-too-many gin and tonics.  The world had a little glow to it on the way home.  (DISCLAIMER:  I do NOT endorse drinking and driving!)

Third, I'm still working on my nature essay for the writing contest.  I will share more details later about this subject.  I probably won't share the actual essay until after I learn if I win or lose.  My guess is I'm going to lose, and, when I do, I will publish the essay in total on this blog.

I think those are all the loose ends I have to report on.  If I think of any more, I'll have to write an addendum.

Meanwhile, Saint Marty has some sentences to write:

Saint Marty will not drink and drive.  Saint Marty will not drink and drive.  Saint Marty will not drink and drive.  Saint Marty will not drink and drive.  Saint Marty will not drink and drive.  Saint Marty will not drink and drive...

Those damn loose ends...They go better with gin and tonics...

August 23: Off the Cuff

Usually, when I sit down to type a post, I have some idea of what my subject will be.  This afternoon, I have no idea.  That's right.  I'm doing this blog off-the-cuff.  If I make no sense or you think I'm rambling on about absolutely nothing at all, you are probably correct.  I am not going to make sense, and I will be rambling a great deal.

The power outage this morning was caused by a squirrel getting into some kind of power substation.  Fried squirrel and electrical disruption.

I have reading I need to get done.  Tonight, I'm going to try to do some school work.  I hope to be caught up with my class preparation by tomorrow night.  I also have a book to finish for my book club meeting next Thursday.  I'll probably end up just sitting on the couch and watching TV when I get home.  That's the way my nights have been tending recently.

I'm not sure I'm ready to let go of summer yet.  The weather has been spectacular this June, July, and August.  Yesterday, it hit almost eighty degrees.  I know I don't have a choice in the changing of the seasons, but I can stubbornly hold on to August until the last leaf on the trees turns from green to orange.

My wife had a job interview this afternoon for a teacher's aide position with the local Head Start program.  She thinks it went well.  We have to wait until the end of the month to find out if she got a job.  We're trying to remain realistic.  The chance of my wife getting a position is fairly slim.  A lot of people apply for these jobs.

I just got a phone call from my wife.  She told me I got a $250 check  in the mail for being a "guest author" on the U. P. Book Tour this summer.  I am totally shocked.  I was never expecting any kind of compensation for my involvement.  A blessing out of the blue.

I think I've come to the end of my thoughts.  I'm going to sit back and bask in the good news I just received.

Saint Marty believes in miracles today.

Even Charles Dickens rambled