Today’s picture has nothing to do with the rest of this report. I needed to make a positive statement today, the start of a new week, a macro-re-birth, a new slate. I took the it from the back of a French-built trainer at Springfield Air Rendezvous 2006 during a VIP/volunteer flight (Thank you again, KC). I have been privileged to fly in some terrific airplanes with terrific people, soaring above life as I often soar in poetry and song. Flying and poetry will always be two flavors of the same dessert.
It’s been a productive Sunday. Mowed front and back lawns, got the trash to the alley, took a bunch of pictures for eBay (selling a bunch of model airplane kits) and started a new page at my Vachel Pages. It consists of pictures of books by Vachel I’m putting up for sale. These were donated to me by a friend, I already have other copies of the books, and I’d rather have the dollars for food. You know what food is: you just open up your mouth . . . . and chew.
Here’s a poem I wrote April 7, 1996 and published in my first book of poetry Minstrel’s Ramble: To Live and Die in Springfield, Illinois. You can by the book by sending me $10, though now that you have the poem for free, you probably can’t imagine why you would. (Clue: there are other nifty poems in the book.) The first time I recited the poem in public, at Barnes & Noble, I checked with Marcellus Leonard, whose dignified, tempered countenance graced many B&N readings in those days, to be sure “tookas” was acceptable in a family bookstore. I don’t have the genetic chromosome for ejaculating righteous indignity over “bad words.” I didn’t ask Marcellus to censor me; I just wanted to be sure the word meshed with the fleeting consensus that defines good taste. Barnes & Noble was a tasteful place; the people there merited tasteful language — a consideration missed by enough local poets to result in the later banning of all poetry open mics there. Dang, jolly shame, that..
Tuff Tookas
You have a gift and the world doesn’t give a damn?
Tuff tookas. Tuff tuff tookas.
You feel lost, and you hardly know where you am?
Tuff tookas. Tuff tuff tookas!
When you’re altogether twisted down and feelin’ blue.
When your friends are moving upward and you’re stuck like glue,
There’s a message that the world wants to say to you:
Tuff tookas. Tuff tuff tookas!
Tuff tookas. Tuff tuff tookas!
Yes, you told me that you loved me when my kisses were sweet.
Tuff tookas. Tuff tuff tookas!
Now you tell me that your world seems in com plete.
Tuff tookas. Tuff tuff tookas!
It’s the fate of everybody that we crash and burn.
When we reach a point of panic and there’s nowhere to turn,
There’s a moral to the story that we all must learn:
Tuff tookas. Tuff tuff tookas!
Tuff tookas. Tuff tuff tookas!
The nice thing about age is there are fewer surprises.
Tuff tookas. Tuff tuff tookas!
We still hurt like hell, but we know what to be wise is.
Tuff tookas. Tuff tuff tookas.
Now’s the time to get you working up a new head of steam.
Find an on-ramp to tomorrow and an open dream.
Say goodbye to pain and sorrow with a primal SCREAM!
Tuff tookas. Tuff tuff tookas!
Tuff tookas. Tuff tuff tookas!
—– Job Conger
Thanks for reading this.
Live long . . . . and proper.
