visiting ancestors
in their old homes
many moons ago
homes long gone
demolished
forgotten
sitting Buddha’s
red silk pillows
old couches
hanging wooden beads
in doorways
great grandma
in the kitchen
pork dumplings
fried rice
chinese sugar donuts
a once mighty tree
standing tall in the forest
falls down helplessly
the ocean comes in
taking me far far away
I have peace at last
a father and son
with the warm sun behind them
quietly it sets
never invited
under a gray cloud
it is much like a gray shroud
I rest here in peace
despite our efforts
fate always has the last word
life is preordained
The Olympics are here! Rah, rah, wave the flag! Yeah like I’m supposed to care whether some young, or in some cases not so young, brat wins a medal for my country. USA ! USA! USA! I don’t and I get tired of all the jingoistic banter you have to listen to when the ‘Games’ come around. Some of these athletes are fine and anonymous. They train hard. I wish them well. I get these other countries wanting to beat the big, bad, Americans. But these spoiled professional amateurs who have done nothing in their lives but sponge off the government (and probably taxpayers) for years or even decades and ‘overcome adversity’, and wait, I’m supposed to care whether these skiers and others like them win? Not at my house! They’re not heroes, at least to me. I wish the Olympics were once every twenty-five years so I wouldn’t have to hear about them so much
Super Bowl Sunday is coming which means Super Bowl parties. There’s a good chance that you might be having or going to one. I’ll bring soda, or chips and dip, or something easy. Let somebody else provide the meat. They usually draw a pretty good crowd albeit an odd one. There’ll be people there wearing football jerseys they just got the day before at the mall and have to be told what team the jersey represents, most of whom look really out of place in one. There’s people who just come for the food, mostly office types who have no clue who is actually playing in the game, but are mostly interested in ‘networking’ or gossiping. Then there’s the non-sports guy who doesn’t care about the game, but just wants to see the lame, overblown, overpriced commercials that get shown during ‘The Big Game’. Who invited that guy? Then there’s the couple hardcore football people who are actually trying to watch the game and thinking they should have stayed home and avoided all these other types.