Civilities
I dance around you
like a firefly —
caught
in the hand
of June;
made wary
by a past
that haunts
the present,
and fuels civilities.
I flail and fall
through impolitic coupling —
as alone
then
as later;
listening to the blues
or meeting your friends,
I murmur civilities.
I feel most honest
when you sleep —
your eyes closed
mine wide open,
holding my own breath
to listen to yours.
It’s those intrepid explorers
I’m wondering about —
the ones who swath
their way
through the overgrowth
through undoing incivility,
shrugging off the pounding din
staring down the dead-yellow eyes
of all those
jungle-hungry hearts.
If you want to hear MC’s opinion
. . . on everything from lizards mating to the kissing statue on our bayfront to my theories on clipping coupons, shopping at my local Publix, sex in the morning, and going with fewer martinis every week . . . have a listen at the link below! You can laugh, at least, at my goofy attempts to keep from swearing and roll your eyes, at the very least, at the very weird conversation about the word “colored” and the word “black.” And yes, I know I bungled it … but I was just a little taken aback.
MC on the radio talkin’ ’bout lizards, sex, and horse-surfing!
I’m not saying it’s the most fascinating radio talk of all time — but if you care to listen to the podcast of the radio show I was on earlier today — WSLR 96.5 LPFM’s Two Early in the Morning — check it out.
MC on WSLR Wednesday, September 16
Hey! MC will be on Two Early In the Morning — tomorrow, Wednesday, September 16th from 9 to 10 am.
Call the studio at 941-355-4540 between 9 and 10 and ask any question you like … of me … or Two Early In the Morning host Francis Scheuer. Whatever you want to comment/ask about — birds, parking meters, being single in the SRQ, health insurance … whatever.
Listen in at WLPFM at 96.5. Or listen live on the Internet at WSLR on the Internet.
September 11th … remembered
This is a column I wrote in 2007 … entitled Out on a Limb for Love
Another September 11th has come and gone. Six of them now since the first, and we’re still afraid. Maybe even more afraid. Of terrorists, of global warming, of war, of the stock market.
But mostly we’re afraid of each other.
Every day I hear at least one person express a desire for love – romantic, familial, friendship — but they’re too afraid to reach out and ask for it. Too afraid of rejection. To afraid their ego will take a hit. So frozen with fear that they’d rather live without the love they desire than go out on a limb and really, specifically, ask for it.
Single friends of mine are afraid they won’t find someone to love them. Married friends are afraid their marriages are failing or are numbly disconnected. Older parents I know are afraid to ask their busy middle-aged children for attention and time, something more than the occasional obligatory phone call or annual visit.
Fear. How can we let it be more powerful in our lives than love?
In the days that followed September 11th, everyone in America seemed willing to go out on a limb for love. Willing to call family members from whom they’d been estranged, to take the hand of the spouse they were cheating on and promise never again, to tell themselves they’d never send their children to bed without looking them directly in their eyes and saying “I love you more than the sun and the earth and the moon.” Willing to invite a stranger to dine with them or smile a greeting to the person who passed by on the street. Willing to be the first to say “I’m sorry.”
Six years later? Not so much.
We’re back to our old ways. Families are still fragmented by petty arguments and marriages still destroyed by laziness. People still twist their faces in angry grimaces at the elders who move too slowly in front of them. Friends still haggle over who “started it,” and who owes who an apology.
Six years ago, everyone said that those planes crashing into buildings and fields, those families decimated, those lives lost, would teach the rest of us the lesson of a lifetime: That we must not wait until we are confronted with death to say what was left unsaid. That life is to be lived and people are to be loved. Now, not later.
If you had just a few minutes left to live on a plane hurtling toward death, whom would you call? Whose voice would you want to hear? Whom would you forgive? Whom would you ask for forgiveness? To whom would you whisper, “I love you;” who would your heart break to touch and hug just once more?
What are you waiting for?
The lessons of September 11th are many, but the one that stands out above all is this: Love the best you can, as often as you can, while you can. Ask for love. Give love.
Blood-letting
Her hand,
a small one
according to standards
she’s never been able to meet
Says, “Look — she is here;
let the inquisition
begin.”
(If she’s told one lie,
she’s told ten.)
Fingertips poised
ready to draw
true blue
then drop à point
to be read
once bled.
The vellum almost
an admonishment:
She had better tell the truth.
Bravo, Obama!
Jiminy Cricket. I was moved to tears by Obama’s speech. He nailed it. I’m proud to call him my president. I believe in health care reform. I support it. People close to me — people with families, young children, serious medical problems — are going without insurance because of cost. I’m considering letting my own health insurance go because I simply can’t afford the rising costs. It was affordable five years ago — but no more.
I’m so glad, so grateful, that he is America’s President.
Writing my religion
I write frequently about truth and lies in this column. I guess it’s because I believe, bottom line, that truth, lies, and the intentions behind them, are what make our character.
And the pursuit of character — which for me means living with integrity, honor, and truth – is as close to having a religion as I come.
I often falter or outright fail in the practice of my faith. No surprise there. I comfort myself, though, with the hope that perhaps character lies at least partly in the effort to have one in the first place.
While I’m forgiving about my own lapses, I’m sometimes less so when it comes to the lapses of others. Not very fair, huh? Still, I prefer to be around people who are at least trying to live with integrity — people who have evolved past the self-serving truthiness, the “I didn’t tell you because you never asked,” kind of ethos that worms through most relationships.
A while back, I told a friend I felt he wasn’t being straight with me. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I knew what his response would be. I could see it in the panicked flicker of his eyes, the involuntary scrunching of his shoulders – and sure enough, out it came: “Everything I’ve said to you was true …” he began confidently, then added sheepishly, “… I just didn’t tell you everything.”
Ah. The slippery slope.
I didn’t feel hurt personally by his lies of omission (whatever they were, at that point, I didn’t even want to know) but my spirit took a blow, as if a great fissure had cracked across the continent of my religion.
We were friends; good ones, I’d thought. He didn’t need to be coy with the truth. I’d already given my friendship, my acceptance. His dissimulation wasn’t worthy of him or me. And that’s what hurt.
The question isn’t whether we owe the complete and total truth to everyone, about everything.
The question is: are we telling and disclosing everything someone would want to know, should know, deserves to know, in the context of their relationship to us?
Or are we just telling them what we want them to know — to avoid confrontation, an uncomfortable conversation, or worse, to manipulate a situation the way we want it?
The difference is something you know and feel in your bones. And so does the other person. Truth will out, whether it’s spoken or not.
I’ve told my share of lies, unfortunately. And whether it was an outright lie, a white lie or the ever-popular “lie of omission,” every single time, my distortion of the truth cheapened the relationship with the person to whom I lied, and, more importantly, it cheapened my own character.
We’re bombarded with lies and half-truths and double-speak every day. It’s become the norm to play fast and loose with the truth. But I don’t want to live that way. I want to believe character matters, despite way too much evidence to the contrary — despite my own shortcomings, despite the shortcomings of others.
I don’t want to lose my religion.
WSLR Celebrates Fourth Year!
Saturday, September 5, WSLR 96.5 LPFM radio programmers, volunteers, and listeners hosted “Dining On Air” fundraising dinner gatherings – some held in private homes, some at restaurants — throughout Sarasota, to raise money to support the non-profit, community radio station.
Among the many attending were Sarasota County Commissioner Jon Thaxton, WSLR Station Manager Arlene Sweeting, and local artist Pam Marwede.
I went to one of the events — the one put on by Zest! of Sarasota where Chef John Arico and his wife Nina put on a dinner that blew my mind. It was a New Orleans-themed dinner and I’ve never been to the Big Easy, so I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. But the Arico’s wow’ed me with gumbo so good I scarfed it down like a mad dag, yummy mini-crab cakes, a SUPER good Sauvignon Blanc, and an absolutely-to-die-for Cajun Catfish (I think it was cajun spice!) with a side dish of corn and other veggies that was so fresh and yummy it was all I could do to stop myself from licking the plate.
WSLR supporters Debbie and Bruce Zeilman with Chef John Arico, owner/chef of Zest! of Sarasota Catering.
Louisiana Gumbo Show radio host John Osgood and Attorney Adam Tebrugge.
An after-dinner dessert, art and music party was held at Arts Center Sarasota, where scrumptious desserts, wine, beer, and coffee were provided by local businesses such as Pastry Arts, Publix, Carr’s Corner, and Gyro the Great, among others. The after-dinner crowd also enjoyed live music by Los Rumberos.
“Louisiana Gumbo” program host John Osgood greets local realtor Christina Pitchford (one of BIZ 941’s recently named “People to Watch”) at the Arts Center After Party.
WSLR enthusiasts enjoy the art(s) of conversation.
WSLR has over one hundred volunteer programmers from the Sarasota and Manatee communities providing diverse, non-commercial radio shows that include everything from arts, to local and political commentary, to Native American issues, and a broad range of music programming including blues, classical, zydeco, and world beat. Visit www.wslr.org to learn more.
Last night’s Harvest Moon … in the early morning
“When we were strangers, I loved you from afar; when we were lovers, I loved you with all my heart … on this Harvest Moon.”
~ Neil Young
