PROGRESS: THE PHONE

I find myself every now and then thinking of simpler times I’ve known

And I have to ask does anyone remember when a phone was just a phone?

Growing up we had one phone...one phone and that was all!

It could be found in the kitchen...hanging on the wall.

When you picked up the receiver you waited, it was part of the design

As you had to make sure your neighbor wasn’t on the party line.

You made your calls using a rotary dial, it was wonderfully slow,

And if you wanted privacy you’d stretch the cord as far as it would go.

I wonder how many children today would be utterly appalled

To know the telephone was once used for only making calls?

But that simple phone has changed; the seeds of progress have been sown.

It’s no longer just a device for calling others...it’s computer all it’s own.

Oh, it still make calls but the wall phone and that long stretchy cord are gone

Replaced by a phone that fits in my pocket, one I can buy at Amazon.

Now I can go anywhere without getting lost. Am I somehow directionally blessed?

Nope, my phone comes equipped with it’s own maps and a sexy voiced GPS.

I can now talk to my phone and what’s more she will even talk back.

She has access to Google and provides me with any information I might lack.

My phone is also a camera I can take a picture of a sunset or a babbling brook

And before you can say Instagram or Snapchat it’s in an e-mail or on Facebook.

I can play games, find coupons, look at Google Earth or access my daily planner

I can find constellations, Skype with Bryan and it even has a barcode scanner.

I can listen to music and if I’m not sure the exact name of a particular song

My phone not only tells me but gives me the words to sing along.

My phone can recommend restaurants, find me hotels or exotic resorts

I can watch the latest You Tube videos or get my news, weather and sports.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for the progress, one can truly make the case

That the new phone has changed our way of life and made the world a better place...

But that doesn’t stop me every now and then from falling into a kind of progress denial

When I long for days of that old twisted cord and the sound of the rotary dial.

RE-RENTING TIME

If you look at the word retirement and pull out T...I...M..E...TIME

Your left with two words that unexpectedly create a whole new paradigm.

Retirement means we’re done working, no more daily upward climb.

We actually get to slow down and in effect...we re-rent time.

Time we didn’t have before because there was so much else to do

Now slows down before us and allows us to enjoy the view.

Time which used to move so fast it was hard for us to see

Now floats by ever slowly and has become a luxury.

Yesterday Deborah and I took an early walk as the evening darkness ebbed.

We stopped to watch a little spider in the construction of his web.

He worked so fast and furiously until his web was through

And we left him with his finished product glistening in the morning dew.

We found ourselves stopping many times under many different trees

Because each one had a solitary beauty and unique symmetry.

We stopped at a bald eagle’s nest to give them our regards

And spotted the mother eagle up above it standing guard.

Suddenly the father swooped in with his talons full of food

And we watched as mother and father fed their hungry little brood.

It’s often the simple things along the way that make us stop and smile

And we realize it’s those little things that help make life worthwhile

All the more reason to love retirement for everyday I can find a rhyme 

In the little things Deborah and I do while we’re out there...re-renting time.

PLURALS

I’m glad I grew up speaking English because I think if I had to learn it

I’d have to take my English Rosetta Stone and angrily return it.

Take a simple matter like plurals, in English there’s no defense

Why some times certain rules apply and other times they make no sense.

Take a simple baseball stat...RBI stands for run or runs batted in

And for sports fans this us usually where the problem first begins.

If Tommy batted in 1 or two or 10 runs much to our surprise

We would say he had 1 or 2 or 10 RBI, not the incorrect RBI’s.

And if Tommy ever asks you, you can tell him the reason why...

The plural is in the R at the beginning not in the ending I.

Look at the word hippopotamus, there is no one rule that applies

We can say there are 2 hippopotamuses or use the acceptable hippopotami.

Just when we think we have the rule mastered, it’s octopuses or octopi

We find out the plural of radius can never be radiuses, it’s always radii.

What about the word sheep? The plural is sheep not sheeps,

But the word creep doesn’t follow that rule because the plural of creep is creeps.

And don’t get me started on goggles and pants--aways plural-no reason or rhyme

It’s enough to give me the jitters or heebie-jeebies...also plural all of the time!

The plural of moose is moose but the plural of goose is geese

So why is the plural of mongoose mongooses? Why can’t we call them mongeese?

Everyone knows the plural of mouse is mice and the plural of louse is lice

But why does Deborah have blouses in our closet, shouldn’t we be calling them blice?

I can’t go on, I’m feeling clammy, and if you too feel you’re going to wheeze

Then it appears we all have the same neurosis, is it neuroses or neurosisees?

Whatever, it is it’s plain to see our English is made up of many crazy words

Just ask one goose and his two geese friends, they’ll tell you plurals are for the birds.

Yes, I’m glad I already speak English, if not I might very unmercifully

Take out pair of scissors, (is that two scissors?), and cut out every plural I see.

KAFKA WHO?

I started a new job in a bookstore, an Antiquarian bookstore to be exact

This means there are very old and used books sprinkled throughout our stacks.

I love books and I like to read but I wouldn’t consider myself well-read

When I was working I was lucky to finish a page or two once my body hit the bed.

Still I I like Arthur Conan Doyle’s smarts and a good Shakespearean tragedy

And I’ve always thought Harlan Coben writes a wonderful mystery.

I haven’t read many of the classics I wouldn’t know Salinger from Dostoyevsky

But still, I am a reader, I simply like to read books that appeal to me.

“Shakespeare.” I said yesterday when a young woman asked what author I like to read.

“Shakespeare!” she sneered, “That’s a safe choice” as the man who came with her agreed.

“I also like Arthur Conan Doyle,” I retorted “his Sherlock Holmes sure was a whiz...”

“Another safe call she interrupted.” It’s obvious I was flunking her quiz. 

Have you ever read Kafka she inquired, wondering if I was at all evolved

“Kafka who?” I paused as I thought for a second. “How many crimes has he solved?”

She smirked as I rang up The Metamorphosis then quickly went on her way

I thanked her as she reached the doorway and bid her to have a nice day.

I thought about her for a moment as down the street she and her boyfriend strolled.

Kafka said if a person keeps the ability to see beauty then that person never grows old.

For he knew that finding beauty is important in this world in which we all delve

But he also knew it’s important to let others find beauty for themselves.

I hope the ability to find beauty will someday ride happily on that woman’s shoulders

Because to my eyes as she walked out of the store she seemed just a little bit older.

Oh I may someday pick up Kafka myself but it won’t be to make someone feel small.

Who knows, he writes such nice things about beauty, maybe he fights crime after all.

WHAT'S WRONG WITH SATURDAY?

The Romans called it Saturn’s Day as a salute and it was their special way

To honor the God whom they believed controlled the first hour of every day.

Of course the English put their own spin on it stripping the linguistic beauty away

Although still with a nod to Saturn, we called it Saturday.

Saturday is a wonderful day, it’s the start of many a weekend

A time to rest and relax and spend time with family and friends.

Saturday is followed by Sunday, and so has that nice little perk

Unlike the day after Sunday when most people go back to work.

So why then is the Super Bowl played on a Sunday? It has always made me groan

What does the NFL have against us, I mean isn’t Monday bad enough on it’s own?

Oh it’s not only the NFL, look at college football, and all those fun award shows

With Saturday so readily available why is Sunday the day that they chose?

What if the Super Bowl played on a Saturday with Sunday to rest lazily...

I’m not a big NFL executive but is seems pretty logical to me?

So here’s one vote for the God Saturn, Super Bowl Saturday don’t you agree

Has a nice ring to it and more importantly is one game I’d stay up to see.

Or you can keep your Superbowl Sundays and hold them in cold weather climes

With any luck like Super Bowl 48, the game will be done by halftime.

HAPPY GROUNDHOG DAY

I love the pageantry of Groundhog Day, I hope I always will

From Gobbler’s Knob, to those great top hats, to Punxsutawney Phil.

Did you know the German’s brought this tradition with them with one slight contradiction

In Europe they looked to hedgehogs for their end of winter prediction.

But they couldn’t find hedgehogs in Pennsylvania and didn’t know what to do

Until they noticed groundhogs were abundant and said, ‘Hey, I guess they’ll do’. 

Since 1886 America has turned to Punxsutawney to celebrate Groundhog Day

To see if we’re in for 6 more weeks of winter or if spring is on the way.

For if the groundhog sees his shadow then he knows winter will take its toll

And the furry little fellow heads back into his hole.

If he doesn’t see his shadow as he exits his little mound

An early spring is coming and he stays above the ground.

Thousands of people gather in Punxsutawney to hear the news about their clime

And it doesn’t matter that Phil is right only 39% of the time.

I mean come on people if you’re really want to know what nature has in store

Turn on the TV...that’s what Doppler radar and out meteorologists are for!

No, we tune in to Punxsutawney on Groundhog day not for the magic but the mystique.

Because in a world that’s constantly changing it’s traditions that we seek.

Perhaps in Phil we see a simpler time, with less responsibilities and woe

When all we had to worry about was the coming of spring or a little snow.

That’s what makes us slow down February 2nd of every year

To discover what Phil the groundhog will do the moment he appears.

As for me I care not if Phil is some kind of climate prodigy or weather whiz

Because I live in Florida and we have no idea what winter is.

A DREAM

I had a little dream last night, oh it was nothing too extreme

But what made this one different is that I don’t usually dream.

I know that’s not quite true, the experts say we dream some every night

They even think we dream in color instead of black and white.

Which certainly begs the question that’s not as crazy as it seems

If a person is colorblind in real life, do they see colors in their dreams?

But I digress, it’s not that I do not dream, or dreaming I condemn

If I have dreams throughout the night, I just don’t remember them.

But I do remember last night’s dream, not all, but just a tad

For it involved a simple meeting between me, my mom and dad.

I was at some big auditorium on my way to a movie set (?)

When many friends came walking by asking, “Have you seen your parents yet?”

Everyone I knew was going to the same place, it was early in the day

But I was going to make a movie and was heading the other way.

Since I was early I went to check it out before I headed into town

As I was searching throughout the stands I heard, “Jimmy, come sit down.”

Their they were as plain as day, long before they died. 

Young and carefree and happy...sitting side by side.

I walked over and gave Mom a kiss on the cheek as Dad patted me on my head.

By the way this dream was in color, Mom was wearing lipstick...it was red.

I sat down, Dad asked me about the movie, “It’s going great.” I said

Then before I could say another word I woke up in my bed.

Dreams can be interpreted in many ways, no rule is hard and fast.

It could be, now that I’m retired, I was missing people from my past.

It could be subconsciously in my dream I was once again a little lad 

Who needed comfort from my Mom or reassurance from my dad.

I do not know why I remembered this dream or if it’s meaning I’ll ever embrace

But I do know this morning I woke up with a smile on my face.

Perhaps we’re not meant to fully understand, and no dream is ever as it seems 

Perhaps we are meant to have mystery in our life, and poetry in our dreams.