One thing that ALWAYS impressed me about Mike Toole was that he didn't go to college until he was about 40 years old.
opsimathy
Rare. 1. a late education.
2. the process of acquiring education late in life.
Memories: We stayed in Arlington on or just off of Glebe Road when we visited him. I remember his dog, Calhoun. He was a german shepherd and he loved branches. I mean, he didn't care for sticks. I remember how he carried around these big branches. We didn't throw sticks or branches, he just carried them, dragged them around the yard with his mouth. He was a dog to remember.
We went to The Torpedo Factory while we waited for him to join us for lunch. I also remember hanging around the courthouse square the particular day. It was a sun shiney day. Not particularly hot. Perhaps it was a spring vacation. There were statues and informational signs (for lack of a better word at this time). I have a recollection of a room in that courthouse on the square. A big desk. Was it Uncle Michael's Desk? Or was that actually a Judge's bench in a courtroom? Indeed, I recall a giant round emblem on the wall behind that big desk. I was impressed. I thought it was Uncle Michael's desk.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Ishii-san : OBGYN Sanno Medical Plaza
March 15, 2006
I had just had the most outrageous OBGYN experience
When I got home, I asked my partner at the time,
"you wanna make a baby?"
The gynecologist was a young guy. Early 50s.
Great english for a Japanese person.
Tells me he's part Italian.
I don't believe him.
He has me sit in this great big comfy pink chair.
No stir-ups!
Some kind of curtain is pulled in place
in front of my lower extremities.
I don't see myself but I can see him
sitting on his stool in front of me.
If you want, you can draw a curtain in front of your face
so you don't even have to see him working on you.
The curtain amuses him, which would you prefer?
He pulls the curtain to an fro.
He suggests leaving it open.
He has to place those cold metal instruments in order
to get a pap. Explains everything so nothing comes as
a surprise. Then, for the ovaries . . . He doesn't
go sticking his whole hand up inside you to feel them
. . .
He places a wand inside you . . .
It doesn't go in very far at all.
You see it ALL on the computer monitor.
He explains, pointing here and there,
the ovaries, the eggs, the cervix, the wall of the
uterus,
the endometry stuff that's getting ready to shed.
He prints out some pics.
We sit, back at his desk, again.
He explains the pictures . . . the wall of the cervix,
the eggs, etc.
He said I have insides like a 21 year old,
5 eggs are getting ready for next month.
One big one ready to release this month . . .
He said I can have more babies . . .
Would you like to have more babies? He asks.
For a moment, I wonder, "You willing?"
I tell him, 'I'd need a a wealthy guy'
He doesn't make any offers.
He sends me home with a set of pics -
my future babies . . .
Like a proud mom to be,
I want to show these sonogram pictures to everyone
I had just had the most outrageous OBGYN experience
When I got home, I asked my partner at the time,
"you wanna make a baby?"
The gynecologist was a young guy. Early 50s.
Great english for a Japanese person.
Tells me he's part Italian.
I don't believe him.
He has me sit in this great big comfy pink chair.
No stir-ups!
Some kind of curtain is pulled in place
in front of my lower extremities.
I don't see myself but I can see him
sitting on his stool in front of me.
If you want, you can draw a curtain in front of your face
so you don't even have to see him working on you.
The curtain amuses him, which would you prefer?
He pulls the curtain to an fro.
He suggests leaving it open.
He has to place those cold metal instruments in order
to get a pap. Explains everything so nothing comes as
a surprise. Then, for the ovaries . . . He doesn't
go sticking his whole hand up inside you to feel them
. . .
He places a wand inside you . . .
It doesn't go in very far at all.
You see it ALL on the computer monitor.
He explains, pointing here and there,
the ovaries, the eggs, the cervix, the wall of the
uterus,
the endometry stuff that's getting ready to shed.
He prints out some pics.
We sit, back at his desk, again.
He explains the pictures . . . the wall of the cervix,
the eggs, etc.
He said I have insides like a 21 year old,
5 eggs are getting ready for next month.
One big one ready to release this month . . .
He said I can have more babies . . .
Would you like to have more babies? He asks.
For a moment, I wonder, "You willing?"
I tell him, 'I'd need a a wealthy guy'
He doesn't make any offers.
He sends me home with a set of pics -
my future babies . . .
Like a proud mom to be,
I want to show these sonogram pictures to everyone
Officer Mike : Deputy Michael Kania
362.764
Malicious accusation -- United States -- Case studies.
Abuse of administrative power -- United States -- Case studies.
Criminal behavior -- Investigation -- United States -- Drama.
Man-woman relationships -- Drama.
Interpersonal relations -- Drama.
Malicious accusation -- United States -- Case studies.
Abuse of administrative power -- United States -- Case studies.
Criminal behavior -- Investigation -- United States -- Drama.
Man-woman relationships -- Drama.
Interpersonal relations -- Drama.
The Orange Bike : A short story by Ann Marie Grumm
We were staying at the red cottage that year. I remember my oldest brother, Glenn, diving off the railing of the deck. I have several fond memories of him. Though. . . He always teased and harassed me. He would sorta beat on me, causing me to whine or cry. Dad would yell at ME ! "Stop the whining, or else!"
Glenn paid a lot of attention to me as we were growing up. I felt special. I always wanted to be just like him, "Little Glenn."
The family took a trip to Vermont. We were on a mission to get a ten speed bike for Glenn. I vaguely remember a local grocery or deli . . . They were recycling bottles, it was a novel idea. I remember wanting a soda. "Not today." That was always dad's response.
Perhaps it was a lovely day, the whole family on a venture . . . I bet it was raining. It was always raining when we went to Vermont . . . Perhaps it was Glenn's birthday . . He had been longing for this bike . . . It was orange with very thin tires.
But something awful happened that night.
Glenn paid a lot of attention to me as we were growing up. I felt special. I always wanted to be just like him, "Little Glenn."
The family took a trip to Vermont. We were on a mission to get a ten speed bike for Glenn. I vaguely remember a local grocery or deli . . . They were recycling bottles, it was a novel idea. I remember wanting a soda. "Not today." That was always dad's response.
Perhaps it was a lovely day, the whole family on a venture . . . I bet it was raining. It was always raining when we went to Vermont . . . Perhaps it was Glenn's birthday . . He had been longing for this bike . . . It was orange with very thin tires.
But something awful happened that night.
My Brother, Michael Grumm : A Short Story by Ann Marie Grumm
We hurt the most, the ones we love
We always hurt the ones we love the most
The most gentle of souls and I let loose an entire nest of wasps
I intentionally broke a ceramic of Puma's paw print
I wanted him to know I was really angry. He could make another one, I thought.
He never did.
"The bumper" she would call out, "win this match and I will buy you the bumper of that chevy blazer you want so badly!"
He called me dingleberry
Hurt people husrt people
We always hurt the ones we love the most
The most gentle of souls and I let loose an entire nest of wasps
I intentionally broke a ceramic of Puma's paw print
I wanted him to know I was really angry. He could make another one, I thought.
He never did.
"The bumper" she would call out, "win this match and I will buy you the bumper of that chevy blazer you want so badly!"
He called me dingleberry
Hurt people husrt people
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Creating Biographical Parables
Blogging is terrific medium for authors. Blogs allow writers to develop and change their stories. Notice how each post is like a chapter in a story. Chapters can be added, deleted or moved. Each and every post can be modified, revised, edited again and again, anytime, from any computer with an Internet connection.
Anyone at anytime can refute any or all of the information presented within the blog by posting a comment. Comments can made to any particular post within the blog.
Anyone at anytime, night or day, can add to, . . . . . . .
WORK IN PROCESS
THIS POST IS CURRENTLY UNDER CONSTRUCTION
Anyone at anytime can refute any or all of the information presented within the blog by posting a comment. Comments can made to any particular post within the blog.
Anyone at anytime, night or day, can add to, . . . . . . .
WORK IN PROCESS
THIS POST IS CURRENTLY UNDER CONSTRUCTION
Pop Pop's My Dad : A Dad I Never Had
Let me tell you some stories about Pop Pop, he's my dad. He's my son's dad.
Sammy came to our house nearly everyday. But this story takes place one particular morning. I was back in the kitchen and Jayme was sitting at the head of the dining room table painting with water colors when Sammy entered. "Hey Jayme, how come you ain't got a dad?" Sammy asked. My heart dropped. I wanted to run to Jayme's rescue. Instead, with curiousity I awaited Jayme's reply. Without pause, Jayme replied, "I got a Dad! Pop Pop's my dad !!!"
End of story. The two boys carried on, business as usual, as if nothing happened. Jayme simply gave Sammy an answer that satisfied his curiousity.
Let me tell you another story about the man we call Pop Pop. He's the dad I never had.
(That's quite a hard thing to say when you know you loved your dad and your dad was very good man. But that's a whole other story) This story celebrates Pop Pop, the dad I never had.
"Annie, Annie, come quick!" Pop Pop called.
When I arrived at the entrance, he motioned for me to sit beside him on the couch, his eyes transfixed on the TV.
"Come sit here," he patted the cushion on the sofa beside him, his eyes still transfixed.
"Look at this . . . Look at this woman on the TV . . . see how she laughs . . . . see how she just throws her head back and laughs . . . "
He continued to focus all his attention on this beautiful young woman. She was the guest on some talk show. he was clearly enjoying her.
The thought, "oh, Pop Pop you pervert!" was what came to my mind at that time !!! He was completely enjoying this young woman.
"Annie, do you see how this woman is laughing?"
Pop Pop continued to work the situation and not until I finally made the association he was bringing me to, he finally asked me, "Wouldn't YOU like to laugh like that?"
Sammy came to our house nearly everyday. But this story takes place one particular morning. I was back in the kitchen and Jayme was sitting at the head of the dining room table painting with water colors when Sammy entered. "Hey Jayme, how come you ain't got a dad?" Sammy asked. My heart dropped. I wanted to run to Jayme's rescue. Instead, with curiousity I awaited Jayme's reply. Without pause, Jayme replied, "I got a Dad! Pop Pop's my dad !!!"
End of story. The two boys carried on, business as usual, as if nothing happened. Jayme simply gave Sammy an answer that satisfied his curiousity.
Let me tell you another story about the man we call Pop Pop. He's the dad I never had.
(That's quite a hard thing to say when you know you loved your dad and your dad was very good man. But that's a whole other story) This story celebrates Pop Pop, the dad I never had.
"Annie, Annie, come quick!" Pop Pop called.
When I arrived at the entrance, he motioned for me to sit beside him on the couch, his eyes transfixed on the TV.
"Come sit here," he patted the cushion on the sofa beside him, his eyes still transfixed.
"Look at this . . . Look at this woman on the TV . . . see how she laughs . . . . see how she just throws her head back and laughs . . . "
He continued to focus all his attention on this beautiful young woman. She was the guest on some talk show. he was clearly enjoying her.
The thought, "oh, Pop Pop you pervert!" was what came to my mind at that time !!! He was completely enjoying this young woman.
"Annie, do you see how this woman is laughing?"
Pop Pop continued to work the situation and not until I finally made the association he was bringing me to, he finally asked me, "Wouldn't YOU like to laugh like that?"
Claudia : Gloriously Claudia
CHAPTER ONE
Yuichi was looking out of the kitchen window for some time. He glanced, somewhat guiltily, in my direction and in his baby-talk English, he said, "That your landlady down there."
"Oh, yes," I replied promptly, "That's Claudia."
As if the words flowed from deep within his heart, he slowly articulated the name, "Gloria."
"Oh no," I corrected him, "her name is Claudia."
Unlike all other words that his mouth struggles to pronounce, her name flowed from his lips as if they were springing forth from his heart, "Claudia."
"That's right! . . . Claudia . . . Her name is Claudia."
The teachable child was fully present. Yuichi continued to practice his new word, "Claudia . . . "
He practiced his new word very slowly and very aptly, "Claudia."
"That's right," I reassured my pupil.
"Claudia. How appropriately you misunderstand me."
I continued, "Glorious Claudia."
Yuichi was looking out of the kitchen window for some time. He glanced, somewhat guiltily, in my direction and in his baby-talk English, he said, "That your landlady down there."
"Oh, yes," I replied promptly, "That's Claudia."
As if the words flowed from deep within his heart, he slowly articulated the name, "Gloria."
"Oh no," I corrected him, "her name is Claudia."
Unlike all other words that his mouth struggles to pronounce, her name flowed from his lips as if they were springing forth from his heart, "Claudia."
"That's right! . . . Claudia . . . Her name is Claudia."
The teachable child was fully present. Yuichi continued to practice his new word, "Claudia . . . "
He practiced his new word very slowly and very aptly, "Claudia."
"That's right," I reassured my pupil.
"Claudia. How appropriately you misunderstand me."
I continued, "Glorious Claudia."
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