May 7: Terrible Day, Yadda Yadda Yadda, "Ode to My Bald Head"

So, I've had a really terrible day.  And a really horrible week.  I was speaking to a friend this afternoon, and I said to her, "It seems like God has it in for me.  God dangles something wonderful in front of me, and then He takes it away immediately." 

Now, I know that's not the way God works.  God is infinitely compassionate and loving and kind and yadda yadda yadda.  At the moment, however, I'm not really feeling that.  I actually started 2020 believing that it was going to be better than last year.  I had real hope.

Now, not so much.  I came home yesterday from work, sat down, and literally said to myself, This virus is going to kill me, one way or another. 

So, let me just talk about the one bright spot in this whole shitty day/week/month:  I led a poetry workshop tonight.  For two-and-a-half hours, I got to read, write, and talk about poetry.  And I did this with some of my favorite people in the whole world.  It was a true gift.

So, to prove that, in the midst of shittiness, there is poetry, Saint Marty is going to share something he wrote this evening.  Something that made people laugh.  It's called . . .

Ode to My Bald Head

by:  Martin Achatz

A dome sits atop my eyes.  It flashes
in the sun like Moses on the mountaintop
with Elijah and Christ.  If I am out
in public, and the day is bright,
my head blinds drivers, signals passing
airplanes of my presence.  It is concave,
convex, rests on a pillow at night
like some precious lost sculpture
by Michelangelo.  Reflection of Poetry
or Writer at Rest.  It has been mistaken
for the skull of a pope, a Starfleet captain,
Marlon Brando in Apocalypse Now.  This crown
of skin, taut as a birch bark canoe, has seen
the dawn of humankind on the Serengeti. 
Ice Age.  Eruption of Pompeii.  Some day,
it will be unearthed in the Valley of the Kings,
entombed in a pyramid built in its honor.
Dome of Ra.  Of Zeus.  Of Yahweh.  It will
crash into flames, be mistaken for the burning
bush, Bethlehem star.  And people will sing
to it.  Mine eyes have seen the glory!
Hallelujah!  Glory, hallelujah!

April 21: Lots Accomplished, Beautiful Day, "Web" Dip

I have been working my ass off today.  I got to the medical office at 5 a.m., and I literally have not stopped since.  Aside from my normal work (assembling medical charts, typing surgical schedules, answering phones, dealing with e-mail requests, yadda yadda yadda), I have also put together my final quiz of the semester, my final exams, and a new vita and cover letter.  In short, I've gotten lots accomplished.

I finally got everything done around 5:30 p.m.  Now, I'm sitting at my desk in my office at the university, admiring the beautiful day outside my window.  The sun is still shining, and the hillside is actually green with grass.  I actually walked to class today without wearing a jacket.  It was that warm.  It was the kind of warm that makes me want to skip everything and do something crazy.  Walk through the mud barefoot and feel it squish between my toes.  Hunt for a budding crocus.  Vote for a Republican.  (OK, that last one is a little too crazy, but you get the idea.)

I'm content with myself.  I'm a day ahead of the game.  That doesn't happen for me very often.  Usually, I'm playing catch-up.  Tonight, I will actually go home and...relax.  That's pretty amazing.  I don't think I've relaxed without a nagging sense of guilt in ages.  The rest of the week is going to be a mad dash of grading final exams, but, for tonight, I have contentment.  Relaxation.  The sense that I've done everything.  Everything.

Soon, I'm going to be starting a new job.  Someone asked me this weekend, "Are you excited?"  I blinked at the questioner for a moment and then said, "No."  That's the truth.  Usually, this time of year, I'm ready for the semester to be over, to settle into my summer schedule.  My comfortable, summer schedule.  This year, I have no idea what my summer schedule is going to be.  I'm not sure I'm even going to have a summer.  Certainly, I won't have any vacation.  Just weekends.  Memorial Day.  Independence Day.  Labor Day.  And a yearning for what I used to have.

A question for Mr. E. B. White:

Am I going to have a good summer?

An answer from Mr. E. B. White:

All in all, the Zuckermans' pigpen was the center of attraction.  Fern was happy, for she felt Charlotte's trick was working and that Wilbur's life would be saved.  But she found that the barn was not nearly as pleasant--too many people.  She liked it better when she could be all alone with her friends the animals.

Well, there you go.  My summer is going to be not nearly as pleasant.


Saint Marty's going for a walk tonight, try to enjoy these last few days of normalcy before things change.

Thinking twice about that barefoot mud thing...