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Watery expanse
The ocean is forever
Its waves laugh at me

Life Haiku

Life is tenacious

yet at the same time fragile

fleeting and finite

I’m 65 Now

My dad got me into

going out for breakfast

After he passed, I

continued the tradition

I got into Mel’s early today,

and looked over the clientele


adorned heads


cheeks and chins

Buddies, pals, compadres

engaged in conversation

Voices booming and

not giving a shit

Ordering their food with

practiced specificity

bantering with a waitress who

serves them up sassy repartee

talkin’ about cars, former jobs,

or wacky dudes from the past

And wondering the

millennia-old question:

How the hell’s the younger

generation gonna make it?

Finally, paying up, muttering farewells,

and moseying off to face the day

I woke up this morning

and joined their ranks

The Other Night I Saw Billy Bob Thornton and the Boxmasters

A slender figure of a

man took the stage

I’d heard him on

iTunes, and his sound

was nice to the ear

Tonight, his voice was just a

gear turning with the driving

beat of the rock band.

He addressed his audience

mechanically at first, but

warmed as the hour-and-a-half

performance progressed

And then he invited people

up front to move to the music

While some did a dance in place—

waving their arms or shifting from

one foot to the other—many, like me,

took loads of cell phone photos

and videos

And then he was at the railing,

starting at his left, giving out

hugs and grinning for selfies

one after the other.

When he got to us, he opened

his arms to my sister, who

accepted his embrace

I suggested a fist bump,

but he offered me an

open hand and a smile

So, I shook his hand

I shook the hand

of an accidental

actor who always

just wanted to be

in a band

I shook the hand

of a winner of an

academy award

I shook the hand

of a man who was

once bitch-slapped

by Wyatt Earp

I had a

good time

Our Cats

Theo and Aria

Submitted For Your Perusal…

The 1949 Batman and Robin Serial

The Batman and Robin serial of 1949 starred Robert Lowery and Johnny Duncan in the titular roles.

Some observations:

Duncan’s Robin looked like a 35-year-old short dude in tights.

The way Lowery tipped his head back in so many scenes, it’s clear he had a hard time seeing out of the spike-horned mask. He also had to occasionally adjust the mask during fight scenes.

The Wizard was an adequate villain. Each time he used his wondrous, yet diabolical, “remote control device,” the apparatus looked as if it would erupt into sparking flames and self-destruct.

All present from the comic book pages were Alfred, Commissioner Gordon, Vicki Vale, and the bat-signal.

The car they drove was a 1949 Mercury Convertible and was never called the batmobile.

Wayne manor looked like a really nice house in the suburbs. In one scene, the “batmobile” parks on the driveway, and Batman and Robin just get out and run into the house. Not a very secretive entrance, if you ask me. One could picture the next door neighbor watching from her picture window and commenting to her husband, “Look, Abner, Batman and Robin just pulled up and went into Bruce Wayne’s house…”

Batman’s “utility” belt lacked the requisite pouches and pockets to truly be believable as utilitarian.

I could go on.

The important thing is they tried. With the budget of a fair to middlin’ high school musical and the bare-bones special effects of the 1940s, they tried to bring the caped crusaders to the silver screen.

For me, that’s enough.

A Batman Serial Haiku

Nineteen forty-three

The first Batman serial

An ill-fitting suit

Mighty Mouse

When I was a little boy,

without a doubt, my

favorite cartoon character

was Mighty Mouse

My attention was

captured by not only

his super strength

and power of flight

but also by the

imaginative and

whimsical story

telling of his exploits

I loved it when the animators

used his red contrail as if it were

a solid yet malleable ribbon

to tie up the villainous cats

And I thrilled to hear him

sing his famous battle cry,



Super Ball

I had several Super Balls when I was a kid.

I’m talking about the original Super Ball.

I think the longest I ever had one in my possession was three days.

The urge to see just how high it would bounce would eventually override my desire to keep it

Usually the moment I threw it down against our sidewalk, with all my strength, would mark the end of my ownership.

The bounces were amazingly high, and the trajectories were unpredictable.

From that point on…forever lost.