Activities are ramping up for our annual Christmas Holiday trip. During this time I will do some “best-of” posts–including some of my father’s from Christmases overseas in WWII.



How long
Had it been
Since we’d
Been friends?

Day, night
Music played
All retro
All the time

Yes, it
Was real
A friend
Of mine

Day, night
Music played
All retro
All the time

I Still
Hear it
In my mind

Day, night
Music plays
All retro
All the time

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The War Within

A different twist on Stephen King’s “Under the Dome” idea. What if, one discovered their world was actually in a snow globe?


Idle minds were trouble’s workshop

Nothing good happened after 2 am

Extreme cold kept a lid on crime

Extreme heat caused crime to rise

If only everybody thought the same on every subject?

Wouldn’t living in snow globes be perfect?

Orchestrated micro-worlds, decorated with red ribbons

Swiss chalets and chopping woodmen–human-sized mini castles

Gingerbread cottages, carefully planned

to please the terminally nostalgic

Everything the same, every day for ever and ever

Nothing else seemed to work

Most wouldn’t  notice differences at first

They’d be too busy with Holiday activities

Condensed calcite fell in faux snowstorms

as if by magic–timed for every Holiday season

Until, shaken snow globe earthquakes became more frequent

More earthquakes, more and more snow

“It was efflorescence, not snow!”

“It wasn’t cold enough to snow!”

Skeptics shouted, wizened to their controlled environment

loathed the falseness–Holidays became an insipid joke

Outside celebrations forbidden

Escapes inevitable, although futile

Freedom zones were anything but free

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Ring-a-Ding, Ding

Ring-a-ding, ring-a-ding, ding, ding go the Salvation Army bell-ringers.

What’s changed this Holiday Season?

Political punditry–the election ended yesterday. Today, the ashes are falling.

Political pundits do what they do best. Make claims and disappear till the next election.

Let the blame-games commence.

Enough about politics. A couple of years ago, I alluded to a warped version of the “Twelve Days Of Christmas.”

Here are more verses, in addition to, “Seven white-tailed deer,” “eleven discarded beer cans,” first and  third verses–“a large front-yard hole, left by the utility company, where no hole used to be,” “Three decorated mailboxes.”

As for the rest of the song–there’s always next year.


It’s commonly held, that one has to know where they’ve been, to know where they’re going. An old post about a favorite sweater.


Bill Adam 1966

No doubt
From a long line
Of sweaters
As a teenager
On into adulthood
Favorited by me
There were so many
Encore appearances
It became, at the very least
An obsession, or perhaps
Even stronger–a trademark
Or a talisman, that represented
The way life was supposed to be

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To take my mind away from tomorrow’s special election–a diversion about spray clothing in a can.


spray on clothing

From the lab
The latest thing
Since, spray on
Hair, and
Silly string

Since, spray
For your nose
Spray on cheese
Insecticides, for
Ticks and fleas

Since, spray
Stains, paints
Tans, in a can

Coming soon
Ready to wear
Barely there
Spray on
Clothes and underwear
Haute couture–If you dare!

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