AWP UPDATE - WEDNESDAY MORNING

Good Morning!

It's Wednesday morning and I will be headed into the convention center later this morning. 
I crashed so hard last night that I forgot to take my insulin. It's no big deal because I woke up with a blood sugar of 85 this morning.

The flight was smooth - just a tiny amount of turbulence. Full plane and my wife and I could not sit together. She directed me to an open aisle seat and said she'd go back further. I guess you could say she picked out the seat for me and she did a good job.

There was a young woman in the middle seat with a small child on her lap and a carrier in the window seat for the said child.  A few pleasantries. And settled in. Somewhere over flyover country
I asked if she was from Portland. She indicated no, she was going to a conference. AWP? Yes!  That's where I am headed. (I mean as big as AWP is - where would they put another conference in the city at the same time.  I inquired as to her genre and she said poetry. This was the best random seating pick ever!  Her son was adorable and quite well behaved for his 6 months old and cutting first teeth.  After we landed I gave her my card and said, "I'm Michael." She said her name and we wished each a great conference. I 've mad a new contract in my own genre and haven't even landed in Portland. 

Above you will see a small assemblage of swag  I picked up at either Washington D.C.  or Tampa conference. Swag is one of the fun parts of the conference - to see who brings what. Today, I'm wondering, "who's got the swag? This will be the subject of a future post.

Time to go shower and dress. I will be heading up to midday. I have several hours of volunteer work and them tonight I will go to the  Braver Together Gayla with Cheryl Strayed. 

Thursday is when everyone gets crazy. 

AWP #19 - PORTLAND OREGON

PACKING TONIGHT:

There is writer's anxiety in the air.  AWP Portland is starting Wednesday. So this is the time where I try and get all my shit together.

Fortunately, I have a checklist from the incomparable Paulette Perhach who was offering services on curbing your AWP anxiety.

Okay, I'm not following it 100% - but it helps and even reminds me of some other things. One very important item not mentioned here was taking luggage with room for books on the return trip.  I have a big leather bag that I will sometimes collapse and pack into the suitcase with my clothing. Then I magically arrive with the means to make it home with my stash of books. I mean, who goes and doesn't buy books?

THINGS TO DO BEFOREHAND

 Paulette also had a list of things to do beforehand.  Some of this I have already done. I have most of my schedule outlined along with a few options.

As for the list of 5 people to meet... I've got  3 times that many. That is not counting on new people.

Three people, who are doing what I'm doing?  By that you mean last minute stressing?  Right!


THE GAME

Everyone loves a game, right?  I've seen AWP bingo cards. Not this time but I am still looking.  Here is a little ditty that Paulette gave us
for further stimulation or perhaps frustration.

These are some of the items that were designed to make our AWP experience both beneficial and fun. She stressed the importance of not trying to be too hyped up to try and do everything. You can't. She suggests a balance between getting something out of the experience but allowing yourself to have fun too.

If you are getting too tired, cut back on a panel.  Maybe go off sight and get something to eat or drink. Maybe ask a friend to join you. Or just hit one of the Dickenson Quiet rooms for 30 minuter or an hour.
Call a friend and see if you can go grab a cup of coffee together.


All right, I still have a few things yet to do including moving  laundry to the dryer,

I will be posting on her daily during the conference.  At least that is my plan. From sitting out a conference a while back I can tell you that you start looking for people to live the experience vicariously through.

Meanwhile, I am going to leave you with this thought ~ Who ill have the best SAWG?

Between Two People....

I hold this to be the highest task for a bond between two people: that each protects the solitude of the other. ~ Rainer Maria Rilke

Confession Tuesday Rudyard Kipling Edition

Dear Reader,

Today was a busy day. Not so much that I was overwhelmed with work, though I had office work I did here at home (we are still not allowed back in our building) but around me was a  fluidity that seemed to engulf the day and made my head spin.  So, it's been 5 days since my last confession. Let's get started.

Rudyard Kipling has come to mind and I'm going to borrow the start of his poem "If." If you can keep your head when all about you the commotion is swirling atomic particles pinballing off your head than you are a better man than I. 

So to set the scene, the following converged on us all at once today.  The tree people, Comcast repair and the Sears Repairman for the gas range.  All the trucks and cars out front must have looked something like an operation 100. The tree people were here to deal with many trees damaged during the big January ice and snowstorm and take a bite out of our savings.  The Comcast people showed up to deal with the Cable lines that had been down and across our front yard since the aforementioned storm. As a testimony, I will offer this:  it took two calls to get them out here and during the second call I was told that the ticket from the first call (a month earlier) was closed out without any notion of work done. I said, no lie, they never touched them. The Sears repairman was here to deal with a gas leak in a kitchen range. (I hate gas ranges - I miss the electric range we had in our  home before here) We have been using the microwave and air fryer to coom with while awaiting this appointment. We were anxious to be able to cook something normal, but this is a confession and I need to get to the heart of it. 

I confess that in all of this pinball game going on around us, the trees were taken care of. Comcast got it right after the second call. But the stove, I confess remains a problem (insert gritting teeth here).

The serviceman arrived without a meter to check for gas. I tightened a coupling and said there you go and there he went. Still smelling gas we call it into the gas company ( they had red tagged it and left instructions on what needed to be done (which we gave the repairman) Wouldn't you know it his meter went off like a Giger counter at Chernobyl.  So, I don't have very high marks for Sears service.

On the positive side, I have gotten 30 minutes on the treadmill already today. Giants pitchers and catchers report tomorrow for spring training. I swear baseball and poetry are so alike it isn't funny. Note to self - summer writing project on this topic.  

I've read two books this week. Arab in Newsland  - by Lena Khalaf  Tuffaha ( this was a re-reading ) and How To Know The Flowers by Jessica Smith  - This book just released. I confess it feels good to read two books in a week and I'm all happy now except I am also hungry and need to go eat which brings me back to the kitchen range. Grrrrr.

All best!

Be safe and full of joy. 

Confession Thursday - Water, Water Everywhere, But Don't Drink A Drop Of It

Not a picture from the courthouse -  Just for optics.

Dear Reader:

I confess I am late with Confession Tuesday. I confess the picture on the left is just to set the tone for this post.

I confess that to find this picture I googled water break.  What I got was a number of pictures of very pregnant women. It did not occur to me that this is what would pop up. I also confess that this is not one of those pictures related to water bag breaking during pregnancy.

It's been two hellacious ice storms, some reading, some writing a lot of anxiety and even more water since my last confession.

The be more specific, on January 31st a major water break flooded both City Hall and the Jackson County Court House. I can't vouch for the status of City Hall, but the county courthouse has not opened since then and will not be open I am told till February 19th.

One report said there were 10 ft of water that flowed into the basement area damaging many of the operating systems and destroying others.  After a few days of dealing with this, the water was restored, but the pressure blew out pipes on the 7th floor or somewhere thereabouts and for some 12 hours that the building was shut down the water cascaded to floors below.  This leads to more problems and now it looks like we will be out of it till the 19th.

What does this have to do with my past week?  This is where I office. Or did. Now I am working out of my home and traveling to Independence for court hearings instead of riding the elevator to the 9th floor for court.

This has lead to numerous additional logistical problems like the creation of digital files to upload to legal file, having no office phone and having to rely on my personal cell for work calls. As in the case of this morning, I had to take my work and laptop and drive in ice covered roads to the Independence Court House for a 9AM hearing. I confess the fact that most of the city seemed to has stayed home meant the roads were not crowded as there were only a few idiots like myself on them.

One of the things that have to happen before the building is open again for business is an environmental inspection has to be conducted to make certain there is no hazardous contamination. I have been in the building with some of my coworkers to retrieve necessary items for our work. We had to wear hard hats and neon vests. I confess we were quite stylish. The neon was kind of retro.

I have to say, that I have been holding up pretty well given the various nuanced intricacies of my day that have required some degree of creativity to make things function. See, and you didn't think I would get anywhere near art with this did you.

I confess that you don't often think about just how beneficial it can be to think outside the box. I admit I haven't had many drive time sights that carried my mind off into a creative whorl whipping of lines or phrases that would later find their way on to the page. But  I have had to think about how I can do things differently to arrive at the same outcome. I have read articles about large corporations that have put a premium on creative capacity of individuals and I can see why.

One of the other pieces of all this that have hit home is how much it means to be around your co-workers until you have really limited interaction with them.

I am a person that likes my space. My personality is that of an IMFP.  I am supposed to thrive, to recharge, to flourish in solitude. I confess that even being alone with yourself or in this case, myself, can get on your nerves.

I suspect that somewhere in this is a silver lining.  Maybe a poem or two about interactions or challenges, or just damn water, water everywhere. Yes, I have thought of the Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner and wondered who shot the albatross that cause the flooding in the first place.

It's early yet, tonight and I have poetry to write, and court tomorrow.

Until next time, be of good cheer and stay safe.

P.S. Don't  disturb the albatross,

Confession Tuesday - Tsundoku - Pronounced sun-do-ku / Illness or Healthy?

Dear Reader:

Federal workers have started back to work, Trump's poll numbers are in the tank, Roger Stone was taken into custody and indicted on seven counts, I'm still weighing my options on panels to attend at AWP19 and another week has passed since my last confession.

I confess that I don't speak Japanese.  I don't was that as a shortcoming.  I'd like to. And about  5 or six other languages. But the reason I mention Japanese in connection to the literal meaning of Tsundoku. I know the word is pronounced as though the T is silent and it is something like sun-do-ku.  I also know that it has to do with books. Lots of books. The ownership of perhaps more books than you can or do read. I'm a little uncertain if it is a noun or a verb but a cursory search on this point indicates it's used in both capacities.  Still, when it comes to translations, I hesitate to maintain this is correct, but I can tell you I have seen it used in both fashions.

According to Wikipedia, The term dates back to the late 1800’s – early 1900s. It combines elements of Japanese characters  for "pile up" and the character for "read"

Alfred Edward Newton, author and book collector (Not to be confused with Alfred E. Newman of Mad magazine fame)  is quoted as saying, "Even when reading is impossible, the presence of books acquired produces such an ecstasy that the buying of more books than one can read is nothing less than the soul reaching towards infinity ... we cherish books even if unread, their mere presence exudes comfort, their ready access reassurance."  In this context, Tsundoku appears to be a positive thing. Alternatively, I have heard it used to describe book hoarding. The latter is a less flattering description of the pastime.

Let me say that  I am guilty of having more books that I have read. Or at least completed. I have a fairly extensive personal library. I make no bones about it. 

I confess that I love the feel of books. Not so much the feel of e-readers. I love the sight of books. And yes, I love the smell of books.

Maybe one of the reasons having so many books is not a problem for me is the fact that I have so many friends that likewise have extensive book collections. It also gives me that hope of finding something in each one of them that at some point will be remarkable and worth the wait to find it.

I don't have a count of the number of books I have but three walls of my study have bookcases full. I generally will have some beside my bed on another bookcase.

I recognize the word hoarder is in fact often associated with mental illness. One of the behavioral disorders and not psychosis. I'm a writer, after all, isn't it a given that I will be a little off the wall?  

According to statistician Nassim Nicholas Taleb, unread volumes represent what he calls an "antilibrary," and he believes our antilibraries aren't signs of intellectual failings, but the opposite.

Alberto Manguel puts it very lovingly - “I have no feelings of guilt regarding the books I have not read and perhaps will never read; I know that my books have unlimited patience. They will wait for me till the end of my days.”  There may come a day in which I am no longer able to add books to my library. I hope that is not the case, But I keep reading. And yes, buying. For the time being

Until next time, be safe and of great joy. And read a little each day. Write too! 

P.S.  I'd love to know your thoughts on piles or shelves of books still waiting to be read.

Sourcing:

The Value Of Owning More Books Than You Can Read

All Those Books You Bought But Haven't Read

Why You Shouldn't Surround Yourself With More Books Than You'll Ever  Have Time To Read

Broken

Confession Tuesday - Federal Workers on My Mind

Dear Reader:

It's been two snow & ice storms, four poems submitted to one venue, plane tickets to AWP19 bought,  more presidential candidates announcing than I can remember, lots of reading and lots of writing since my last confession.

I mentioned in my last post my new leather Journal and promised a picture. It is etched with the Southern Pacific railway in the greater San Francisco area. Pretty Cool. This journal will be a companion to my other leather writing journal I have been carrying for years now.

I confess that I waited a bit too long to get plane tickets for Portland and as a result, I did not have good return trip choices. I will do better next time.

Going through another of those writing funks where I am not happy with much of what I put on a page. Of course, this is not the first time this has happened and I confess that I am well aware that it will happen again. I'm writing a lot trying to push through it. It's the only way I know to get back on track. Still, it is frustrating when this happens and you wonder if you will ever put another poem on a page that you are happy with.

Was anyone else appalled at Vice President Pence's lame, comparison of Donald Trump with Martin Luther King? Okay, I confess it was far more than lame. Honestly, it was sacrilege.

My thoughts and prayers go out to the many federal employees that are going without checks. Many, not only with no income but still driving to work every day to do the important things like keeping us safe in air travel, fighting crime, prosecuting criminals, protecting our shorelines and borders. I confess that it makes me angry that the Senate Majority Leader conflates his role with that of the Administration and will not allow for votes unless the president agrees with a particular measure. I confess I want to vote against McConnell a gazillion times. Unfortunately, he is not from my state and even one vote by me against him would be voter fraud.

Tomorrow is my weigh in at WW.  Last week I had dropped 12.4 lbs since I started. I Always feel like I am going to gain on the morning of the weigh-in. I confess that it's probably a paranoia thing more than anything else.

I am still morning the loss of Mary Oliver. Along that line,  I morbidly wonder what other poet greats we will lose this year. I saw a poet tweet from Kelli Russell Agodon this week that mentioned how it would be good to show more appreciation for our poets while they are living.  My reply tweet was, Amen!

Until next time, be safe and be of joy!

Confession Tuesday - KC Winter Storm Edition

Kansas City Snow and Ice over weekend causes damage,

Dear Reader:

It's been two bouts of viral crud, I bout of Pink Eye, one massive snowstorm, another in a long string of days thinking about those federal workers that haven't got  checks and concerned for their plight, one new exciting  journal, (birthday gift), speaking of which another birthday, a lot of writing, daily reading, a lot of hand wringing as I decide on airline & flights for AWP conference, and two weeks since my last confession.


So, just so you know it, I don't need any more health issues this year. I think I've had my quota in the first two weeks.  I confess that I am finally on the mends from my second upper respiratory viral crap and my Pink Eye that developed on Friday is now clear.  I've decided that  Grand Kids are the gift that just keeps giving. They visit often and I've had just about everything they have had except maybe diaper rash.

I got an awesome journal cover for my birthday from my wife.  She gave me an incredible leather journal many years ago that  I still carry. The new one has a San Francisco theme to it and I need to shoot a picture of it an post if in a day or two. The first one is not being retired. I confess there is room for two journals in my life.

The weekend storm wreaked havoc on the city this weekend. Lots of tree damage as they were weighted down with ice and the snow dumped on top of that. Lots of broken branches, Power lines and cable down.  The cable between our house and the pole is down in the yard. Still working, thankfully. We have not lost power, but many have. We have more winter storm headed our way and I confess I am saying prayers, crossing fingers, that hopefully, we will not lose power on the next storm through here.

The winter storm has had a captivating beauty to it in addition to the negative aspects. You probably don't need to be a poet to appreciate it, but I confess I am happy to be one just the same.

The weather is good for reading. I'm reading  Lincoln in the Bardo by George Saunders. It is a most interesting read. Written in kind of a monolog form with lots of snippets of researched writing surrounding the day of the death of Willie Lincoln, the son of the President. There is a bit of darkness to this story but I must say that I am enjoying the graceful way that  Saunders has chosen to communicate the spectacle of Lincoln and his dead son's post-death encounters. I confess that there is much about this book that is out of the mainstream but I love it n some quirky way.

Pricing and selecting two tickets for Portland AWP is nerve-racking. There are not enough options on Southwest which is my preferred airline so I am having to expand my search and options. I confess that I am anxious for the trip but not the planning.

That's about it for tonight. Until next time, stay safe and reads lots of poetry.

Winter Post Card

The bones of winter

weighted down

by the chill.

Beautifully brittle

even angelic

to the point of breaking

against the death-defying pull

of gravity. 

-MAW

Confession Tuesday - Year Trade-In

Dear reader:

Happy New Year from Kansas City! It's been quite a year and I feel like I'm in a dealership about to trade in 2018 and drive off the lot in a new year.

I'm off to the confessional, won't you join me?

Friends, I'd like to say that  I'm excited about the new year, but anxious may be more accurate.  As I enter the new year with my trade-in, sadly there is no warranty. What I am offered is hope and in all my years I've found that hope brings expectations and sometimes pleasant surprises and other times disappointment. This year I am choosing to tie my hope to behavior. That being said, I feel I have some stake in the outcome and that gives me a slice of control. Maybe not of the whole year but the rather hopes and dreams. This is the best any of us can do.

I confess that  2018 was defined by the frustration all around us - all of us. One of the things I am going to do in 2019 is to lessen the chaos around me that distracts and drags me down. No, I'm not turning off the news. Burying my head in the sand makes me an irresponsible citizen and voter.  But I intend to avoid the crap that none of us need. What we engage in is a choice we make. I want to make better choices.

I saw a graphic that said something like this:  We have 365 pages this year to write our new life story. That made me realize several things. One, urgency. If we don't put anything on a page, that's a lost day. I can't write today's page tomorrow. It also means I am responsible for my own story, my own year. Yes, I have to work with what the world throws at me, but that is only part of the story. What I do with my resources, time, events, people are my responsibility. Choose well. Kevin Larimer, the editor-in-chief of Poets & Writers said something in his note in the newest edition that resonated with me. He spoke of deeper gratitude for the idea of production that isn't entirely based on what is put on the page and more on how we honor those moments of living off the page.

One thing I am going to do this year is to guard and protect the time I allocate for writing and reading.

I hope that  2019 brings us lots of change. America is an idea and not just a physical country on a continent. America is based on democracy and certain rights and liberties. All of us need to hold up the vales connected to our founding documents and defend them against all enemies, foreign and domestic. Just being on this continent is not enough. We must preserve those values that were the basis of what makes us great, and remember this nation is a melting pot for the world. This is our greatest natural resource.

Wishing you all realized hope, health and love throughout the year.

A Simpler Tine

This is not intended to be political as much as it is hearkening back to a simpler time. A time when there was a simpler discourse among leaders and even though the bitter battles of politics were waged, in the end, differences aside, these were people who lead this country with an unquestionable dedication the country they believed in and wanted most of all for it to succeed.

To me, the passing of President George H.W.Bush brings with it a double sadness. First, the loss of a fellow American, whose service to this nation was long, and varied. I am also feeling a stark contrast in the present and earlier times.

To be sure, George H.W. Bush and I differed widely, both on domestic policy and foreign affairs. At the time of his election, I was serving as Chairman of the Jackson County Democratic Party (metropolitan Kansas City MO) and while the Democrats did not carry Missouri for our candidate, Jackson County did by the biggest margin for a Democrat up to that point, since John F. Kennedy.

Looking back on 41, I can say without a doubt that he believed strongly in America and his pat may have been different from what I hoped for, in the end, he cared about this nation. He cared about our allies in Europe and around the world. And his transfer of power was orderly and supportive even if he might have charted a different course. Dear Bill," George H.W. Bush scribbled Jan. 20, 1993, to the Democrat about to succeed him as president. "When I walked into this office just now I felt the same sense of wonder and respect that I felt four years ago. I know you will feel that, too. The full text of the letter can be found at the link above. This note was part of a ritual of the outgoing President leaving a note to his successor in the top left drawer of the "Resolute Desk" in the Oval Office.

Somehow, this all seems more complicated. America's reputation abroad is very low. In some places, perhaps the lowest of modern times. Our friends around the world are uncertain what we stand for. Indeed, many Americans seem to no longer embrace longstanding principals upon which this nation was founded.

When issues of colluding with foreign nations that differ with the U.S. on a number of pressing issues are front and center. When it is questionable if the President cares more about his investment opportunities then what is in the best interest of the nation, the concept of ethical government has become non-existent, can we be assured that President does, in fact, have a central dedication to American Democracy? What kind of letter might the next president find in his drawer?

Mega-Confession On Tuesday

Dear Reader:

So it's been a while since my last Confession Tuesday and I'm not waiting any longer. I confess I don't know exactly how long it's been and I could look, but I'm not going to.

Reader, here are some of the things that have happened since the last confession: Call it the rebellious streak in me, or just plain lazy, your call.

• My Giants did not make the postseason play this year.
• I had another poem published.
• I read in Liberty last month.
• I got to see one of the poets on my 2018 Poet Crush List 
• The Democrats in the house were part of a blue wave that may well give them a 40 seat gain in Congress, taking over that body as the majority. 
• The big bad boogie caravan has not yet made it to the United States yet, but Trump has called up the regular military to protect us from gangs, bad dudes, murderers, rapists,  Leprosy, Small Pox, et al.

Please, join me at the confessional:

Dear Reader, all is not well. You know it (some of you anyway) and I know it. This country is ill. I've watched as the fever rises. I've observed its unsteadiness in the world community. I've seen its values denied by some. Hate is perhaps at an all-time high. The patient seems listless and those of us with concern are gathered with Lady Liberty at her bedside.  Who will offer blood for a transfusion? Who will give comfort and support? Who will help her stand again and walk? I confess it is so easy to be hateful at these times because one hate breads another. This is a challenge we face. But I think we have to be certain that not meeting hate with more hate means we simply roll over and do nothing. The absence of hates is not weakness. It is even a greater strength than the haters have. It is a will to defend, to support our democracy and that means be there for the inclusiveness of others. It is to have very wide arms.  

Now reader, on a lighter note, I have found joy in two things. One is that I have been working on my family genealogy. Working a little several times a week I confess that I have been making great inroads. I have the Wells family no going back to a fourth great-grandfather Freemon Wells, Sr born in 1770  and his wife Martha Combs born in 1774. It's fascinating and while it is perhaps not easy to learn intimate details about these relatives, some things will emerge. I confess that I would like to learn enough about these generations of the Wells family and some of their offshoots, Sartins, Keegans, Peachers, Masons, and Combs.  Or on the maternal side of my family.

Another joy has been the use of a family seal. I confess that in some mail, notes to others I have enjoyed doing a wax seal of the envelope. It's fun I think because it personalizes it, and it's a little bit artistic. I bet there are many of you out there that have never received a wax seal stamped envelope. I know I haven't. Maybe that is another reason I so much enjoy it. I know the person on the other end is getting something in the mail that even I have never seen in my mailbox. How crazy is that?

On Veterans Day our president did not even bother to go to Arlington National Cemetary. I confess that this seems to me to be outrageous. Wouldn't you think this would as commander-in-chief be a minimal thing he could and should do?

As to writing, least I close without confession that the struggle continues. But alas, I'm not looking for sympathy, If tomorrow I were to write the greatest poem the world has ever seen, picking up my pen the following day, the struggle would continue.  I am simply happy to write something better today than yesterday.

With this, I conclude this Tuesday's Confession.  May you all be safe and remain at peace!