OH MY! THE ROOM IS SHRINKING . . .

Often, I visit the main, lower-level meeting room of the nearby Banfill-Locke
Center for the Arts. It is a great place for classes on painting, sculpture, writing, and
music performance. Always, it is a busy place!

One thing bothers me . . . all of the painting that goes on!

Not by artist-types - but by the folks who volunteer to keep the walls and ceilings in that
room, spotlessly shipshape. The volunteers must get satisfaction and joy by slightly
changing the hues of light-colored paints each time they give it
another coat.    (eggshell, winter white, light sage, etc.)

But, herein the problem presents itself!  Each coat of paint adds 1/32nd of an inch to the 
surface of a wall. (With 2 walls, that computes to 1/16 of an inch.) Not much you say.

But, go figure. The 24 X 15 foot room is getting smaller and smaller year by year. So -
go figure.

Here goes! If the room is painted on an average of 4 X's a year, that means that in just
one year, the width and length of the room is diminished by no less that 1/4th of an inch!

                                                                                     Average life expectancies:

    5 years         shrink by        1  &  1/4 inches                   Gerbil
  10 years         shrink by        2  &  1/2 inches                   Cottontail Rabbit
  20 years         shrink by        5 inches                               Beaver, Bottle-nose Dolphin
  25 years         shrink by        7  &  1/4 inches                   Wild Pig
  50 years         shrink by        14 &   1/2 inches                 Camel
  75 years         shrink by        21  &   3/4 inches                Parrot
  79 years         shrink by        22 inches                             Humans (in the US)

So, after a mere 1,056 years . . . just room enough in the room for . . .   a little chair.

Where Was I When the Shot Rang Out?

On that fateful Friday, 50 years ago, I was standing near the corner of 14th and P Streets in
Washington, D.C. along with a group of neighborhood gang members*. I will never forget
their faces and reactions as the police copter flew so low overhead. I feared it would crash as
it blared forth the announcement --

                              President Kennedy has been shot!

The gang's leader J.T. along with Oliver, Donny, Charles, and Sonny were absolutely
frantic! They hollered "Mr. Clem, don't go anywhere. Stay right here. Don't move. We
will be back."

                                    And . . . back they came . . . with scrapbooks.

They opened the pages of their precious books. It was immediately obvious that their
heroes were JFK and Cassius Clay. Together, we paged through their collections of
newspaper clippings and photos.

                                    And . . . we stood near the corner of 14th & P,
                                                      held each other,
                                                                      and wept.


                                                       -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -

*My spouse and I were living in Washington, D.C. at the time. Elizabeth was employed
 as a chemist at the National Institutes of Health in Bethesda. I was in my first year at
 Wesley Theological Seminary. I had chosen, as my student volunteer work requirement,
 to help begin a mission in the inner-city of Washington to address the needs of people in
 this black 2nd Precinct.

M A C K T R U C K S R U L E !

Tonight on T.V. there will be a special program on the "History and Manufacture of Mack Trucks."  I, for one, will be front and center. The other, glued to the T.V., will be my spouse, Elizabeth! So happy we share many of the same interests!

My fascination with trucks and truck trailers goes way back to early teen-age years. Now, in later years, I am keeping a running list of all the brands and models of truck trailers. It is easy to do, as the name-plate logos are riveted both on the back of the truck trailer and on the passing side of the trailer.

So far, my list has no fewer than forty-nine (49) brand names. Here they are!

      Wabash National, Fruehauf, Utility, Indianhead, Advantage, Stoughton, Morgan, Jindo,
      Trailmobile, Timpte, Hyster, Iveco, Interstate, Wayne, Champion, Thomas, Thiele, National,
       Navistar, Oshkosh, Reinke, Theurer, East, Econoline, Wilson, Haulmark, Kaufman,
       Kraftsman, Trail King, Towmaster, Western, Garwood, Barrett, Bame, Crysteel, Dorsey,
       Durabody, Jerr-Dan, Kentucky, Load King, Lufkin, Trail Boss, Troxell, VanGuard, Manac,
       Waseca, Hyandai, Everest/Maxim, and Great Dane, among others.
                         Note:  This list is quite incomplete and some trailer companies, just as with
                                    truck tractors, may have units on the road but are no longer are in
                                    business. However, the trailer parts largely remain available.

The list of truck tractors is much smaller: Western Star, Freightliner, Sterling, Isuzu, International,
                                                                  Kenworth, Hino, Iveco, Peterbuilt, Leyland, White,
                                                                  Pierce, Garwood, Volvo, McNeilus, Heil, GMC, FWD,
                                                                  Diamond Reo, Diamond T, among a few others.

MACK trucks still are my favorite . . . especially the red ones!  (Elizabeth likes red ones too!)

Just In Case

Would you believe?  I may actually expire before by U.S. PASSPORT!
But, most likely not.

In the meantime, it hangs securely around my neck in a tan "Lewis(N)Clark" travel pouch. There it is relatively safe from pickpockets and good-for-nothing, mother-my-dog, namby-pamby, general-run-of-the-road fleecers.

So, here is my passport, at-the-ready, just in case I move to Canada to avoid the blow-hards in Congress who, in a majority, are mere bags of wind and void of relevant discourse and thoughtful decision-making capability. Talk about oxymorons. What will it take for the winds of change to register with folks like that?

Come to think about it - the answers may be "blowing in the wind."

Oh dear . . . the congressional / executive impasse is over and the country is back running partially.
(So much for the "shut down" crisis.)

I guess that, for the time being, I can return my passport to the safe-keeping of our local bank's Safe Deposit Box.  What's that I hear?!  Something being postponed until January or February ???

SEIZE THE OPPORTUNITY !

A recent article in our local newspaper, told of how a care-giver would regularly take a young boy with spina bifida to a nearby wheelchair accessible nature center to actually get close to living animals. The paper told of what it meant to the young person. What a touching story.

The year was 1964. The place was a church in Churchville, Maryland. I have no recollection of her last name. Peggy was her first name. She was one of the regulars in the small church's youth group. She had spina bifida and was confined to a wheelchair. She loved the Beetles and could sing many of their songs. Peggy increasingly needed a lot of help to get around.

When it was announced that the "Fab Four" were coming to do a concert in Baltimore (it may have been the first in the U.S.) . . . the youth group advisors and I just knew that they were going to take Peggy and her friends to the Civic Center in Baltimore . . . a place where no one, even me, had ever dreamed to visit.

We were able to get tickets for everyone at less than $4 per person (which was a lot at that time) and contacted a church near Baltimore to make arrangements to sleep over the night after the concert, before heading back home.

I will never forget the group's joyful time with Peggy and her wheelchair. And, the crowd! The concert made history! The songs the Beetles sang that night included: "All My Loving," "She Loves You," "Roll Over Beethoven," "Can't Buy My Love," "I Want To Hold Your Hand," "A Hard Day's Night," and "Long Tall Sally."

Sometimes - things work out!

'Tis a Strange Autumn Indeed

As one of our neighbors said the other day, our seasons are really screwed up.

Over half or more of the trees in our neighborhood are still as green as if it is mid-summer. Some are covered with the colors of autumn. A few others exhibit the outline of naked branches silhouetted against the sky.

The geese have been strangely silent, as if they are confused about whether or not to fly south. There are no thin layers of ice on small ponds. Sometimes the days are November-grey. Other days, the sun shines as though it was early September. After a brief wind last night, the lawns in our neighborhood are free of leaves and are green as if it was mid-summer. Despite little rain since August.

One of my favorite fall images is when leaves fall straight downward around the base of a tree, lying there like a golden pool of light. Such a favorite image it is, that when Clem and I did a presentation on the fall solstice and looked through our published books of poetry - we found three pieces using this imagery!

My favorite, from Waiting for the Heat to Pass, is the following:

                                silent prayers

               leaves of amur maples

                                    their life energy spent

                       drift to the ground

        fade from brilliant reds and oranges

                            into pools of browns and golds

                   naked branches stark 

                                        in thin November air

                            they wait in stillness

                                      for the renewing touch

                   of soft snow filtered

                             through skeletal forms