micropoem of the day: parking lot

I work at a college. One of the things I enjoy about my place of employment is the parking lot. There you see cars with plates from almost all of the states. I haven’t seen plates from Alaska or Hawaii but I try not to get into too much of a hissie fit about that. It’s a big no-matter. Occasionally there’s one from Canada but not too often. When I see all those plates, it puts a smile on my face.  

cars in orderly rows
tag plates from many states
students in class

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A Case of No Winning

I was hanging with the Octopus. You know the fella who can’t keep his hands to hisself. He’s been slapped more times than Reagan had jelly beans back when Reagan had jelly beans. We were at a poker game and Fudz was telling this story.

Fudz being Fudz never started with a once upon a time. He didn’t give you a setting either. It could have been a dark and stormy night or once upon a midnight cleary. Didn’t matter to Fudz. He’d just plunged right in. It was like you started The Game of Thrones on the fifth season and hadn’t a clue who Ned Stark was.

Anyway Fudz was taking off on this story. “Filler,” he said. “That guy. You just never knew about him.”

“That was Filler alright,” Octo joined in.

“Don’t interrupt, you eight-armed piece of seaweed.”

Now you did not want to say something like that to the Octopus. No sirree. It just wasn’t done. He was on the sensitive side when it came to his looks. I knew that. Fudz knew that too. Well, that was it for the game. No more five card studley. Fudz had been looking for a fight all day. And now he was going to get one.

The Octopus jumped up and stuck his fist in Fudz’s face. Everybody knows you don’t want to stick your fist in Fudz’s face. But there was the Octopus doing it and he was ready to chili con carne Fudz’s face.

The Octopus was hot and Fudz was hot. I just knew there was going to be a hot time in the old town that night. Somebody was about to get a whooping and I did not mean it to be me.

Unfortunately, and I am meaning a big unfortunately, the two of them guys turn to moi. At the same time they requested, “Toes, you gonna referee, you hear.”

“Who? Me?” I choked out.

“Toes,” Octo said. “You gotta do it.”

Now I gotta tell you. There was going to be blood that night. Most likely it was to be mine. ‘Cause no matter who I chose as the winner of the bout the other one was going to stick his hand down my throat and pull my heart out and eat it.

That was no way to be cornered. That’s what I get for hanging out with the two gallootest galloots there ever was. I was thinking a mile a minute and yet I wasn’t fast and furious enough. On top of that, I was sweating to get all. The perspiration was pouring out of me like I had just been baptized in the River Jordan.

“Okay,” I finally choked out. “But I got one request.”

“Request away,” the duo sang duet-style.

“You both can only use one hand. Octo, you have to have seven arms tied behind you. Fudz, you have to have three of your arms tied behind you.”

Well, they thunk about it. They thunk and they thunk and they thunk. It took so much time it was like being stood up for a date and having to buy both dinners. It took a heap amount of time, I’m telling you.

Finally, they turned to me and said (at the same time), “You got yourself a deal.”

“That ain’t all,” I said.

“There’s more?” the Octopus said, unsure he was liking the conditions. He gave me that mean look of his that said, “This had better be good.”

“Good,” Fudz repeated with that snarl of his.

“To be fair,” I said.

“Yeah, yeah,” the two gave me.

“We’re going to tie your left leg, Fudz, to Octo’s right.”

They didn’t like that. I could tell by the frown on their faces. It was not a nice frown either. I thought about reconsidering but I knew this was the only way to save my hide.

“That’s the way it’s done,” I reassured the two.

“Who says,” Fudz wanted to know, and he wanted to know bad.

“Chivalry says. It’s written in the Code of the Knights. You never heard that. It’s the only way to guarantee a fair fight.”

“Who says we want a fair fight?” Octo asked.

“What do you mean?” Fudz said. “‘Course we want a fair fight.”

“We do? Well, if you say so. All right. I agree to the terms. Tie our legs together.”

I always carry a bit of rope with me for such occasions. You just never know when it will come in handy. I wrapped that rope around their legs, tying the two beasts together. Then I tied their hands behind them, leaving just one free for each. I backed away from the brutes and shouted, “Go for it.”

Now I am here to tell you that you never seen such a fight in your live-long life. It was something else. While they were in the middle of it, I decided I had enough of the entertainment. I lit out. And that’s why I am hiding out here. When they realized I was gone, they stopped beating the brains out of each other and turned their ire on me.

So please don’t tell them that I am on this here sheet of paper. I value my health.

Uh-oh. No. It can’t be. Geez. It is. You ratted on me. You mean you didn’t rat on me. Then why is Octo and Fudz standing right behind you?

micropoem for the day: butterfly

I don’t see enough of butterflies. When I do see them in my back yard, I am a happy camper. Such lovely creatures the butterflies. It’s easy to understand that some of our ancestors thought of them as faeries. And children too. I think that if you took and wrapped all the goodness in this world, you would get a butterfly. So the other day I got a glimpse of a butterfly making their way from flower to flower and it gave me a great big smile.

butterfly dancing
rose to azalea to rose
a ballerina

Uncle Bardie’s Spotlight Creator: Gregg Toland, Cinematographer

Once a week on Friday, Uncle Bardie celebrates the creativity in others by shining a Spotlight on a movie, a song or a creator. This week’s Spotlight Creator is the Cinematographer Gregg Toland:

Orson Welles was not one to share credit. But he shared end credit with the cinematographer, Gregg Toland, on “Citizen Kane”. It was his only way of expressing the important contribution Toland had made to the film.

Last year I spent some time studying “Citizen Kane” to figure out why it is still considered, if not the greatest film of all time, one of the greatest. In addition to the sound achievement by Welles and his team, Gregg Toland did things in that film that makes the film so important, things like deep focus and transitions.

I’ve always watched movies for the story. Studying “Citizen Kane” the way I did, listening to critic Roger Ebert’s commentary, made me realize that the film medium is indeed the cameraman’s medium. No director, no actor, no set designer, no producer has more impact on this visual medium than the director of photography. Now I watch movies I like, trying to get at what the cinematographer did to impact the story. It has impacted not only my viewing pleasure but the way I look at story. Gregg Toland taught me that.

Gregg Toland and the Tools of Immersion.

Nominated for six Oscars, he won once for “Wuthering Heights”. In addition to “Citizen Kane”, he was the cameraman for sixty-six films. These included “The Long Voyage Home”, “The Grapes of Wrath”, “The Bishop’s Wife” and “The Best Years of Our Lives”. Unfortunately, he died at the young age of forty-four in 1948. What a loss.

micropoem for the day: face

It’s a new morning. It’s like the first day ever. Yesterday’s troubles are over. It’s a new beginning. I crawl out of bed and wrestle my clothes from the back of a chair. Most of the time they win. This morning I win. It’s not even close. Those clothes are k.o.ed. Already I can see this is going to be my day. I head for the coffee. I pour myself a mug of the java juice. Once the coffee is consumed, it’s on to the next thing.

morning face
eyes staring at me–
mirror face