October 14: Anniversary, Hello from the Kalahari, Long Day

Yes, I'm posting live from the Business Center of the Kalahari Resort in the Wisconsin Dells.  Not that anybody really cares, judging by the fact that Saint Marty has only received about 11 views so far today, and it's about 11:30 p.m.  Not that I'm complaining or anything.

At the moment, I have a surly Kalahari employee glaring at me.  They advertise that this computer room is open 24 hours, but it was closed and locked when I got here.  We had to phone the front desk to get it opened.  Therefore, the gentleman who unlocked the room is not very happy with me.  But I'm pretty tired and grumpy myself, so we make a good couple.

We got here around 4 p.m.  We took our time.  There was really no reason to get here early.  The Dance Convention doesn't begin until tomorrow morning.  As I sit here typing this post, the hotel staff is setting up the rooms for the classes across the hall.  I nearly got lost finding this place, and I'm not sure I'm going to be able to find my way back to my room. 

This afternoon, when I wandered around a little bit to get the lay of the land, so to speak, I got chased down the hallway by a grey-haired man with a German accent.

"Can I help you, sir?" said German employee.

"I was looking for the computer center," said I.

"Oh, yah, ve have zat just down zis hallvay, zen turn left," he said with a smile.  I was half expecting him to click his heels.

"Thank you very much," I said.

The German man nodded and disappeared quickly.  I told my wife when I got back to the room that I thought the Kalahari was harboring Nazi fugitives.  She laughed at me, but I've been on the lookout for Mossad agents all evening long.

Today is also my 16th wedding anniversary.  My wife and I can't really afford to buy each other presents this year.  This trip has to suffice as our gift to each other.  It's a pretty expensive gift.  I wished my wife a happy anniversary this morning before we left home.  I will kiss her goodnight when I get back to the hotel room after I'm done with this blog post.  That's the extent of the romance this year, unfortunately.  Hard to get really passionate with your spouse when you're bunking with your ten-year-old daughter, three-year-old son, and your sister.

My daughter starts dancing at 7:45 tomorrow morning and goes until about 4 p.m.  She is going to be really tired by the end of the day.  Then she wants to play laser tag with a group of girls from her dance school.  I wonder how much money that's going to put me back.

Saint Marty isn't complaining.  Really.  He's just nervous about any Gestapo agents who may be lurking around.

Keeping my eyes open and my mouth shut

October 13: Last Post Before the Dells, Puttin' On a Happy Face

This post will be the last before I get to the Wisconsin Dells tomorrow afternoon.  I still have class to teach, a meeting with the poetry editors of the literary magazine, and a trip to the grocery store left.  Then I have to pack, clean out the car, and not panic.  I don't think I've quite gotten to the point of being mentally prepared for the journey yet.  Too much left to do.  However, I'm looking forward to getting out of town for a few days.  I think it will be a good time, despite the stress of travelling to a place I've never been before.

In honor of my upcoming trip, I've been trying to put on a happy face, especially for my daughter, who is over-the-moon excited about the whole thing.  I'm going to try to not worry about money or school or work or house payments or car payments or...Well, you get the idea.  It's all good.  For now.

Well, wish Saint Marty good luck tomorrow.  He really doesn't want to get lost.

It may be a little twisted, but it's funny

October 13: New Look, Blog of Note, One Day to Go

Got a little bored with the look of my blog yesterday afternoon.  For those of you who've been following me for a while, you know that I change the appearance of my pages frequently.  For me, it's like rearranging the furniture in the family room.  Couch over here.  TV there.  Footstool in the corner.  Plus, I wanted something that reflected the season of the year more accurately.  Come November, I'm going to have to switch to snowmen and turkeys, but I think this new autumn color scheme is quite attractive.  It brightens things up and makes me think of hot cider spiked with cinnamon schnapps.

I also added a new text box on the side of the blog.  Go ahead and look.  I'll wait...Yes, it's the box that says "Future Blog of Note."  Again, for those of you who've been following me for a while, you know about my obsession with being named a Blog of Note by the Blogger team.  I have not given up on that aspiration.  However, I had to lay off on the whole "I'm going to poison your pet poodle if you don't name me a Blog of Note" tactic.  It hasn't worked, and it was getting in the way of that other goal of Saint Marty--to be recognized as a living saint.  Therefore, I added the appellation about being a future BON.  Until I receive said distinction, that box will remain on my blog.  When I win, I will change it to "Blog of Note" and add things like "In your face!!" and "Suck it, all you doubters!!" and "Next step, the Nobel Prize!!"

Tomorrow morning, I head off to the Wisconsin Dells with my family.  Not to worry, though.  I called the Kalahari Resort, and they do have a computer center for use by hotel guests.  Therefore, I will be able to post updates through the weekend.  I know you were all worried you weren't going to be able to get your daily words of wisdom from Saint Marty.  Put those fears away.  I will still be posting, at least once a day.

Allow Saint Marty to quote Garrison Keillor (a book lover, good Christian, and Democrat--you gotta love this guy):  "That's the news from Lake Wobegon for this morning."

I really am

October 12: Better Day, New Poem, Comments

My day has steadily improved.  I saw several good friends unexpectedly today.  Blessings.  I had a really good teaching day.  Blessing.  Yesterday, a friend loaned me a book of poems by Sarah Vap titled Faulkner's Rosary.  It's amazingly good.  Blessing.  I got another poem written today that I think is satisfactory.  Another blessing.  Yes, that's right.  I'm doing the Oprah thing:  I'm counting my blessings today, cuz tallying up my problems ain't been workin' so good lately.

I have also solved the whole dilemma of some people not being able to leave comments on my blog.  Here's what you have to do if you're having problems commenting on any blog:  enable third party cookies.  Having said that, I don't know what the hell third party cookies are, but I told my friend Keith to try it this morning.  He left a comment for me this afternoon.  Yeah for technology.  Another blessing, although I still don't know what a cookie is, unless it's got chocolate chips or oatmeal in it.

As I said above, I do have a new poem for today.  It is inspired by the catastrophes of yesterday.  I've also used Greek mythology again.  Get used to it.  I'm teaching mythology this semester, so it's going to creep into my work.  I would actually venture to say that it is enriching my already rich output of poetry.  Alright, I may have taken that a little too far.  But I do enjoy having the myths to play around with.

Tonight, it's choir practice and band practice.  The usual.  I'm not sure if I'm sticking around for band practice, though.  It depends on whether or not we're going to practice anything for two Sundays hence, since I will be Wisconsin Delling it this weekend.  We'll see.

Saint Marty is going to go read some more Sarah Vap now.

Time Between

I love this time between cloud and rain,

My student says as he walks with me,

Talks about Hades and the Greek dead.

We’ve had this discussion before, how

The underworld of Athens and Sparta

Wasn’t filled with lakes of sewage or

Infinite planes of ice.  No, Hades

Was simply a place to go

After hard childbirth or fatal sword thrust,

A place of not life, the shadows of was.

All these people, accustomed to wine and grain,

Orgy and oracle, reduced to divine breath

And waiting, just waiting, like corn in a silo.

I drive home tonight with medicine on the seat

Beside me for my daughter’s eardrum.

My wife tells me how the nurse

At school looked in my Celeste’s ear,

Saw something like a cloud, a bright rib

Or jar, formed, ready to unleash

Rain and wind.  But not yet. 
Not yet.  I drive

Toward the coming storm, stare at the sky

As it darkens, the way my father’s face

Darkened before he shoved my sister

Into a wall.  I move through this time

Between work and home,

A wreck of clouds and bullets of rain.

The mutter of water.  I stand

On the shores of Styx, watch, wait

As Charon paddles across the waves toward

My unthreshed stalk.

Don't pay the ferryman!