Sunday, May 31, 2020

Overheard at Booth 1: NFNE Day 470 Colorado

Trying to find new material for Notes From a National Emergency and then I see this story about two escapees from a Colorado Penitentiary and they went south to the border and claimed to be illegal immigrants.  They expected to get a free plane trip to Mexico.  I mean, who thinks that stuff up.

Can you imagine the conversation?

"Yeah, we're illegals."

"Sorry, but your fingerprints came back.  You two are doing a decade each for drugs in Colorado."

"You gonna believe those guys?  They're high, dude!"

"Nice try."

"So, no plane ride to Mexico?"

"You're getting on a plane ... but it's not going to Mexico."


Overread at Table 4: NFNE Day 469 May 28, 2020

This is a dispatch that I read from one of the centers, someone who overheard the conversation.  They translated it...

Maria: So you're getting deported Saturday.

Marta: Yes.  That makes tomorrow 'Rape Day'

Maria: What is Rape Day.

Marta: The day before they send you back, they come and take you to a room and they rape you.  Because they know that there is no one you can call, no one who is coming to see you, before they send you back.

Maria: Rape Day.

Marta: Yeah.

Maria: Men are fucking pigs wherever you fucking go.

Marta: Yeah.

Overheard at Table 3: NFNE Day 472

1: Did you see the police van ram the protesters in New York?

2: Yeah.  Harsh.

3: Well, you throw shit at a cop car, what do you expect?

2: I didn't know that any of those protesters took a solemn oath to serve and protect the public.

3: It's stupid to go up against cops.

1: Maybe the cops shouldn't be out there murdering people, then.

2: And what about the border patrol van last year?  Dude called migrants "subhuman" and ran him over with his truck.  Should he have known better?

3: Maybe should have known better than to come to the country illegally.

1: Last I heard, running someone over with a car is a bigger crime than crossing the border, so maybe you should should the fuck up.

3: Last time I meet with you snowflakes.

Notes From a National Emergency
Day 472

Overheard at Table 2: Haiku

Haiku for Amendment 28

Did they?  Didn't they?
Can we change the government
by text or by tweet?


Overread at Table 1: Haiku for Driving Back from Floating the River in New Braunfels

Haiku for Driving Back from Floating the River in New Braunfels

Westbound I-10, watch
ing brushstroke clouds sweep across
watercolour skies


Wednesday, May 27, 2020

Overheard at the Counter: Dover Butch (a late addition to the trilogy)

"Here's an interesting little ditty.  A recent addition I just happened across today.  Since this is the first time I've read it, I don't have as deep an opinion as with the first two poems I've talked about, but at least this one doesn't seem to be as pandering to the unnamed female as the first two.  In fact, it seems to be simply made up of cut up words and phrases from "Beach" and "Bitch" ... and then randomly sewn back together into this.   Indeed, this probably should actually be the third of the trilogy and perhaps 'Sea of Faith' should be kicked out as some sort of Reprise or Slight Return.   I don't know.   But at least this one seems to be making fun of the supposedly male aspects of the first ('perfumed armies') and placing the admiration of the woman onto ideals (faith called to, fat with spray ... the moon is my darling)... yes, this may need some more review, because in some ways I think it's just a bunch of blather, but that might be the point.  Definitely making fun of the first two poems, most definitely.   Hm.   I wonder if I will still like it many years hence."

Overheard at the Counter: Dover 3 (Dover Triology)

Sea of Faith
John Brehm
unknown when written but found it on a blog post dated January 2011

Once when I was teaching “Dover Beach”
to a class of freshmen, a young woman
raised her hand and said, “I’m confused
about this ‘Sea of Faith.’ “ “Well,” I said,
“let’s talk about it. We probably need
to talk a bit about figurative language.
What confuses you about it?”
“I mean, is it a real sea?” she asked.
“You mean, is it a real body of water
that you could point to on a map
or visit on a vacation?”
“Yes,” she said. “Is it a real sea?”
Oh Christ, I thought, is this where we are?
Next year I’ll be teaching them the alphabet
and how to sound words out.
I’ll have to teach them geography, apparently,
before we can move on to poetry.
I’ll have to teach them history, too-
a few weeks on the Dark Ages might be instructive.
“Yes,” I wanted to say, “it is.
It is a real sea. In fact it flows
right into the Sea of Ignorance
Let me throw you a Rope of Salvation
before the Sharks of Desire gobble you up.
Let me hoist you back up onto this Ship of Fools
so that we might continue our search
for the Fountain of Youth. Here, take a drink
of this. It’s fresh from the River of Forgetfulness.”
But of course I didn’t say any of that.
I tried to explain in such a way
as to protect her from humiliation,
tried to explain that poets
often speak of things that don’t exist.
It was only much later that I wished
I could have answered differently,
only after I’d betrayed myself
and been betrayed that I wished
it was true, wished there really was a Sea of Faith
that you could wade out into,
dive under its blue and magic waters,
hold your breath, swim like a fish
down to the bottom, and then emerge again
able to believe in everything, faithful
and unafraid to ask even the simplest of questions,
happy to have them simply answered.

"I just discovered this and thought it really rounded out the Dover Trilogy as I've come to call it.  I like the jumping across ages, and I can see this in a thoroughly modern setting, except that, yet again, the female in the poem is an idiot.  Granted, the poet could have made the student male, and perhaps the student represents students in general and perhaps I shouldn't be so judgy, but still, I'm thinking that the young woman is actually the daughter of the woman talked about in both of the two original poems, and the mother who actually had learned something of poetry and possibly had the child by one of the two men, has now sent the child to college to be scoffed at by yet another pretentious male.   In fact, it seems like the narrators in each one of these poems could even be the same guy ... or variants of the same guy.  The woman is still 'the other' or 'the object' .... I am really hungry for a poem written by a woman in response to all this.  Maybe from her point of view, maybe from this freshman student's point of view, but there is something that is definitely missing here.   I would, like this poet, like to ask the simplest of questions and have them simply answered."

Overheard at the Counter: Dover 2 (Dover Trilogy)

The Dover Bitch
by Anthony Hecht

A Criticism of Life: for Andrews Wanning

So there stood Matthew Arnold and this girl
With the cliffs of England crumbling away behind them,
And he said to her, 'Try to be true to me,
And I'll do the same for you, for things are bad
All over, etc., etc.'
Well now, I knew this girl. It's true she had read
Sophocles in a fairly good translation
And caught that bitter allusion to the sea,
But all the time he was talking she had in mind
The notion of what his whiskers would feel like
On the back of her neck. She told me later on
That after a while she got to looking out
At the lights across the channel, and really felt sad,
Thinking of all the wine and enormous beds
And blandishments in French and the perfumes.
And then she got really angry. To have been brought
All the way down from London, and then be addressed
As a sort of mournful cosmic last resort
Is really tough on a girl, and she was pretty.
Anyway, she watched him pace the room
And finger his watch-chain and seem to sweat a bit,
And then she said one or two unprintable things.
But you mustn't judge her by that. What I mean to say is,
She's really all right. I still see her once in a while
And she always treats me right. We have a drink
And I give her a good time, and perhaps it's a year
Before I see her again, but there she is,
Running to fat, but dependable as they come.
And sometimes I bring her a bottle of Nuit d' Amour.

"I'd read this one also in college.  I thought at the time it was an interesting 'update' to Dover Beach, a modern take on it, and I appreciated it for humanizing the woman.  Years later, now to me it seems almost as patronizing patriarchal as the original.  At least this one gives the woman SOME autonomy, but damn if it isn't the whole 'same time next year' casual trysts and what's the 'she's running to fat BUT dependable' all about?  She's plumping out but she can still give the narrator a boner?  But hey, as long as he brings her some perfume right?   Honestly, reading this now, it's like women can't get away from being forced into little cages, little boxes, little pockets, little lines.  I'll never know how it feels, but God it must be damned frustrating to be a woman."

Overheard at the Counter: Dover 1 (Dover Trilogy)

Dover Beach
Matthew Arnold

Published 1867, but probably written 1851 or as early as 1849.

The sea is calm tonight.
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits; on the French coast the light
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!
Only, from the long line of spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanched land,
Listen! you hear the grating roar
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
At their return, up the high strand,
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
The eternal note of sadness in.

Sophocles long ago
Heard it on the Ægean, and it brought
Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow
Of human misery; we
Find also in the sound a thought,
Hearing it by this distant northern sea.

The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth’s shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Retreating, to the breath
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world.

Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.

"To be honest, I've had kind of a love/hate relationship with this poem.  In college I thought it was great, one of the romantic poems that actually pre-saged Eliot and Pound by 50 years, and the Beats by about a hundred years, and I once  think I tried to read it like a Kerouac, with the whole jazz thing behind it.  But as I get older the more it grates on me, the pomposity of it.  The whole miserable dripping sentiment, and how he's practically demanding that this woman drag him out of his own nihilism.  The only redeeming line is the very last one, where he realizes that he will never understand her, or himself, or anything at all.  It's the one glimpse where he understands he might very well be full of shit."


Overread at Table 2: Selection from American Fascist 2019 "Omar vs the Tropes"

In 2019, Representative Ilhan Omar tweeted an incendiary tweet.  Incendiary only because it dared to call Israel's motives into question.

Since the American people have a difficult time distinguishing among Judaism the religion, Jewishness the culture, and Israel the apartheid state, to comment on the government apparently means you want to throw each person with -stein or -berg at the end of their name into a gas oven.

So, during that day, MR wrote a few slight sketches of that might have gone into Comedy Sketchbook ... if MR had a real show.  

Omar vs the Tropes


Omar says, “AIPAC is all about the benjamins!”

Everyone replies, “Jew/Money trope!  Anti-Semite!  Make her apologize!”


Omar says, “Why should I be forced to pledge allegiance to a foreign country to be on the Intelligence Commission?”

Everyone replies, “Dual Loyalty led Jews to concentration camps!  Anti-Semite!  Fire her!”


Omar says, “The best bagels are found in Manhattan.”

Everyone replies, “The New York Jew Trope!  Anti-Semite!  Burn her!”


Omar says, “Maybe Israel should use some restraint against military force in Gaza.”

Everyone replies, “She wants Israel to be wiped off the face the earth!  Anti-Semite!  Kick her back to Somalia!”


Omar says, “Jews killed Jesus Christ, PBUH.”

Everyone replies, “She hates Jews!  Crucify her!”

White Supremacists, “YEAH! Oh … wait … what?  So confused!”


Omar says, “If I knew you were coming I’d’ve baked a cake.”

Everyone replies, “Jews were killed in ovens!  She wants to bake a KIKE!”

Thursday, May 21, 2020

Overheard at Table 4: The Dover Beach Trilogy

Idea for The Blenders

The Monohans “Dissonance” 
- song, instrumental, about 11 minutes long.  It has a good subtly somnambulant mood.

Read Matthew Arnold’s “Dover Beach” ... then pause for a moment and read

Anthony Hecht’s “Dover Bitch,” which is a 1969 poem in direct response to Arnold's poem.

Then, just today I was shown a third ... John Brehm’s “Sea of Faith” - which is a wonderful deconstruction of the difficulties of teaching poetry - or teaching people to THINK!

Put some ocean waves in the background.

Upload to YouTube

Instant classic!

Overheard at Table 1: PoD "The Ruins"

The Ruins

The new dawn, black,
a summer coming on, but which has
already passed us by,
we emerge from the bunker with
blinking eyes and
we refuse to wear our masks,
the planes dance overhead
in the sky,
celebrating those who
watched all our grandmas die,

and on our screens,
people talk and are talking
and they don't shut up and they
say one thing then they say another
and then they say the contrary and
then they say what they didn't say and
then they say that they didn't say
what they just said and
believe Cult Leader don't
believe your own lying eyes
and yes, dammit all
it is so hard to breathe,
we cannot catch our breath,
down here in the ruins

the ruins of all that we thought we loved.


Tuesday, May 19, 2020

Overheard at Table 3: Meet Again Someday

Meet Again Someday

Well, we will all meet again
We will all meet again some day.
Maybe up in Heaven
or just up the way,
we will all meet again some day.

And if we get to heaven,
Yes if we get to heaven,
I hope we'll all kick back and roll a j
just sittin on a cloud
and smoke the afternoon away

cuz we'll all meet again
We will all meet again some day.

Well I don't really know,
and I really just can't say,
But I'm glad we had some laughs along the way.
Yes, I'm glad to know you,
and I know we just can't stay,
but I pray that we'll all meet again
some day.

May we all meet again
May we all meet again some day.
Maybe up in Heaven
or just up the way,
we will all meet again some day.


Overheard at Table 4: from Comedy Sketchbook "Who's Got It Worse"

[scene - black screen - voices only]

1: I'm black.

2: Well, I'm black and Latino

3: Well, I'm black, Latin - X! - and Asian.

4: That's nothing, I'm all those plus I'm autistic.

5: You're lucky!  I'm all that and I've only got one leg.

6: You're lucky to have a leg!  I'm all that plus I was born with NO NOSE!

1: How do you smell?

[All in unison]:  AWFUL!!!

Monday, May 18, 2020

Overread at Table 3: The Moon is Red

The Moon is Red

The moon is red
the clouds are ash grey,
smeared against the obsidian sky.
it does not seem as though
you are coming back.

go to sleep
my little ones
pull your blankets up &
tuck under your chins.
the day is done

look out the window, you,
see your own silhouette
reflection against the
blackness of the back yard,
the light from the fitness
flickering through the
branches of the trees,

see the colors run
from your face
to the glass in your hand,

you are a melting

where does
your flame




Sunday, May 17, 2020

Overread at Table 3: Scene from "After the Gold Rush"

The Kickstands “Side Car” starts to play.  Camera opens to a New Mexico highway, empty, blue sky, noon, scrub brush on either side of the black asphalt, with stubs of mountain ranges in the distance on either side.

Meg has the window down and her long hair flowing in the breeze.

Another car pulls up behind them.  Then pulls over into the left lane.

Meg’s boyfriend looks at the driver of the other car, who gives the rock-n-roll horns.   Both men smile, then they push the pedals hard to the floor, each car speeding, taking more of the road.

Meg rolls up the window and turns up the song. 

They are racing, yes, but not racing to beat each other, no, not racing to win, they are racing to celebrate.  Celebrate what, you might ask?  

If you were alive on that day, and if you can remember the first of May, in the year of our Lord 2020, then you would know why two cars would be racing for seemingly no reason heading north on a New Mexico highway with no one to see them but one lone eagle in the sky.

If you were in America, on that day, at that moment, you would know.

You would know.

Thursday, May 14, 2020

Overheard at Table 4: Holst's The Planets

Frankly I can't really stand Holst's The Planets.... it's too anthemic and then suddenly drops to inaudible.  I did, however, see it once as the score to a film in a science museum set to images taken by space rovers of the planets as it passed.  Screen was like over a hundred feet high.  It was huge, I remember I could see everything, every ripple in the atmosphere of Jupiter.  Great experience.

Still, the symphony, I dunno, I just can't stand it, even though I try to listen to it.  Then I started thinking, what if someone redid it as electronica?  Not a symphony, but synthesizers?  Computers?

What if they incorporated spoken passages from communications about the crafts as they were passing by the planets?

I think it would sound majestic, truly I do!

Overheard at Booth 2: Someone working on a Christian Rap

I wonder what He was thinkin when he was hanging on the cross
was he thinking about the saved was he thinking bout the lost
was he wondering why he had to die so we’d be saved
did his life flash his eyes from the manger to the grave


Overread at Booth 1: Scrap from Sheaths of Sass


Arise you poets of America!
Arise, damn you!
Flood the streets with your rails against injustice!
Let the mountains ring with echoes our your resounding thunder!
Sing praises of the people who fight and strive for freedom
against the tyranny of the Conservatives and
the insufferable slavery of Consumerism!

Where are you, poets of America?
Where are you now?


Tuesday, May 12, 2020

Overread at Table 3: PoD "The Balance"

The Balance

Some people feel calmest after the house is cleaned,
spotless, immaculate, pindrop.

Some people feel energized in the middle of clutter,
the chaos, the thrill of anticipation of creation of something


Some see the beauty in the order,
Some see the beauty in the chaos.

Sometimes, they find each other,
and if the stars are aligned and if Heaven smiles down

they create something called The Balance.



Overread at Table 2: PoD "Cape"


I was brave
in those days
when I thought I could fly.

8 years old,
with a towel for a cape.
I climbed to the top of the back yard tree,&
stretched my arms to the sun.

But the ground,
came up at me so fast.


Sunday, May 10, 2020

Overheard at Booth 2: Emily Finds Her Crown

What would Pablo Neruda have written?
Would he have written of your eyes, so clear blue,
like watching your mother through an window
in ICU, fighting the ventilator?

would he have written of your tiny hands,
fierce against the canvas of the mask, or
would that have been cummings, against the rain?
wondering about the broken shoelace,

Damn.  Bukowski.  Should we start this over?
Should we stop for Death who kindly stops us,
opens up the sliding door of the van
and pulls us all neatly inside: AC

freezing our bodies against the spiked cells,
that made love to our lungs so fierce, they killed?


Overheard at Booth 1: Grill for Mother's Day

Two sisters ....

He got me a grill for Mother's Day.

He got you a GRILL?

Actually, I love it.  It's beautiful.

Beautiful?  A grill?

Yes.  Mark knows I love to grill.

I never knew you liked to grill.  You're my little sister.  I thought I knew everything about you.

Yeah, well, when we first got married he tried to grill and he sucked.   So I took over and I really like it.

So the grill is for YOU to cook for HIM.

I know how it sounds.  But it works.

Saturday, May 9, 2020

Overheard at Booth 2: Making Beds

And I read it somewhere, I think it was a drill sergeant who was training the troops, about making their bed first thing in the morning.  The point is, you should always make your bed first thing in the morning, and make it perfect.  Tight corners, no wrinkles.   This sets your mind to do everything with great pride and perfection the rest of the day, and even if it just so happens that the rest of your day just goes entirely to shit, well, at least you have done one thing right, one thing perfectly, that day.

And that is a great accomplishment.  Something to take pride in.

Overread at Table 2: from Comedy Sketchbook "The Holdup"

Scene: Bank in the Wild West.

Enter, Bandit, wearing bandana

Bandit [to banker]: Hands in the air, Mr Johnston, this here is a stick up.

Banker: Clayton?  Is that YOU, boy?

Bandit [looks around furtively]: uhhh... why do you say that?

Banker: Because only you and your sister call me 'Mr Johnston.' Everyone else just calls me 'Butch.'  What are you doing, son, trying to hold up this here bank.

Bandit: Well, times are hard, Mr Johnston.

Banker: If they're that tough, son, I got some wood out back behind my house you can chop up for kindling.  I'll pay you fair day's wage, how about that?

Bandit: OK, sure!  And ... can I borrow your horse when I'm done?  I wanna ride down into Greendale and rob their bank there.

Banker: Well, OK.  But only if you promise to get me and the missus some of those donuts from Betty's Bakery on the edge of town.  Wife likes the ones with extra powder.

Bandit: OK, Mr Johnston.   Thanks!   [heads toward door]

Banker: Butch!

Bandit:  OK, thanks, Butch!  [leaves]

Banker [smiles to himself]:  Kids these days.

[Young lady stands up from behind the counter where Banker is.  She wipes her mouth on her sleeve]:  That was so sweet of you Mr Johnston.

Banker: Please.  Call me 'Butch.'

[scene fades]

Wednesday, May 6, 2020

Overheard at the Counter: No President Has Been Treated Worse

Verble Gherulous: In the darkest days of the Civil War, Lincoln, having lost his  son, along with so many soldiers, hung down his head & said to Mary Todd, "I can make it though this, because what we face today will not be as tough as the questions reporters will ask Trump 157 years from now!"

Lori Masters @yuppitsme: Exactly!! I’ve also heard rumors that,with his dying breath, he uttered to VP Johnson, “Write down for posterity that 151 years from now, there will be a President, “the likes of which we’ve never seen.” When pressed for details, he said, “Just kidding. The guy’s a loser.”

John Steppenwolf: George Washington, looking at his men as they were losing toes and feet to the bitter cold, said, "BUCK UP SOLDIERS!!  This isn't nearly as bad as Trump will have it in 241 years, when he'll be asked about all his golf trips in February!"

VG: And James A Garfield, who lived 80 days after being shot until the time he finally died of sepsis from multiple infections, repeatedly kept saying through spasms of fever and pain, "I go to my God knowing that at least I will never be grilled by Jim Acosta!"

Lucky Moran: ... and don't forget that day in Dallas, when JFK was clutching his skull, and Jackie said, "Quit yer bitchin'!  This isn't near as bad as having the papers talk about how you were golfing during a pandemic!"

[a hush falls over the room]

Lucky:  Too soon?

Verble: Much.

John: Most def.

Tuesday, May 5, 2020

Overheard at Table 2: Masks in Public

Lucky Moran: I'm just saying, it's not all bad.

Otis Redwing: Listen, I'm telling you, people are getting hurt.  You got Black folk being profiled all the time, and it's only worse now that we have to wear masks in public.  Black men are getting beaten down by cops and security guards.

Lucky: I was at Wal-Mart yesterday, and everyone was wearing masks - except for white guys - and the cops weren't there, beating down people of color.  Everyone was going about their business just fine.

Otis: OK, sure, you go to ONE store in ONE town and everything's fine, and yeah I'm sure in most stores around the country that is mostly what happens, but there is still enough profiling and violence out there that it's a problem a real problem.

Lucky: Well, OK, I did notice one thing yesterday...

Otis: Do I want to hear this?

Lucky: I did see something...

Otis: I hate your lead-ups.

Lucky: As I was walking out the store... I saw a cop.  A black cop.  He was wearing a mask.  Then he started beating himself down.

Otis [pause]: You are just not right, you know that?  Something is wrong with your brain.

Monday, May 4, 2020

Overheard at Table 5: Some iPad was left on the table and began to spool out code ...

It doesn't matter if you love him, or capital H-I-M

Just put your paws up

'Cause you were born this way, baby

My mama told me when I was young

We're all born superstars

She rolled my hair, put my lipstick on

In the glass of her boudoir

"There's nothin' wrong with lovin' who you are"

She said, "'Cause He made you perfect, babe"

"So hold your head up, girl and you you'll go far,

Listen to me when I say"

I'm beautiful in my way,

'Cause God makes no mistakes

I'm on the right track, baby I was born this way

Don't hide yourself in regret,

Just love yourself and you're set

I'm on the right track, baby I was born this way

(Born this way)

Ooo, there ain't no other way

Baby, I was born this way

Baby, I was born this way

(Born this way)

Ooo, there ain't other way

Baby, I was born this way

I'm on the right track,

baby I was born this way

Don't be a drag, just be a queen

Don't be a drag, just be a queen

Don't be a drag, just be a queen

Don't be!

Give yourself prudence and love your friends

Subway kid, rejoice the truth

In the religion of the insecure I must be myself, respect my youth A different lover is not a sin Believe capital H-I-M (hey, hey, hey) I love my life, I love this record and Mi amore vole fe yah I'm beautiful in my way, 'Cause God makes no mistakes I'm on the right track, baby I was born this way Don't hide yourself in regret, Just love yourself and you're set I'm on the right track, baby I was born this way Ooo, there ain't no other way [ From: ]Baby, I was born this way Baby, I was born this way (Born this way ) Ooo, there ain't other way Baby, I was born way I'm on the right track, baby I was born this way ( Queen , Don't be , Queen ) Don't be a drag, just be a queen Whether you're broke or evergreen You're black, white, beige, chola descent You're Lebanese, you're orient Whether life's disabilities Left you outcast, bullied or teased Rejoice and love yourself today 'Cause baby, you were born this way No matter gay, straight or bi lesbian, transgendered life I'm on the right track, baby I was born to survive No matter black, white or beige chola or orient made I'm on the right track, baby I was born to be brave I'm beautiful in my way 'Cause God makes no mistakes I'm on the right track, baby I was born this way Don't hide yourself in regret, Just love yourself and you're set I'm on the right track, baby I was born this way, yeah! Ooo, there ain't no other way Baby, I was born this way Baby, I was born this way (Born this way ) Ooo, there ain't other way Baby, I was born this way I'm on the right track, baby I was born this way I was born this way, hey! I was born this way, hey! I'm on the right track, baby I was born this way, hey! I was born this way, hey! I was born this way, hey! I'm on the right track, baby I was born this way, hey!
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Overheard at Booth 4: The Spy Next Door (2010)

You either like Jackie Chan movies or you don't.
If you do, you have already seen this one and liked it.
If you don't, then you've missed it on purpose, and that's OK.

If you have NEVER seen a Jackie Chan movie, this is not one of his greatest (that would be the westerns he did with Owen Wilson), but it is a fun way to pass an hour and a half.


Sunday, May 3, 2020

Overheard at Booth 4: The Celery Stalks at Midnight

Celery Stalks at Midnight 
James Howe

Avalon Camelot/1983

Frankly, I don't remember much about this book, but I found it in the back of a drawer.  I remember reading it to the kids years ago, when they were young, I think for story time at third grade or something... wow... 15 years ago or so.  As I recall, they really liked the Bunnicula books.  

Hope they're still entertaining kids these days.  Maybe I'll keep this copy in case I ever have grandkids.


Overheard at Table 3: Really Strong Death Numbers

Niall Carter: So, he's touting some really really strong death numbers.

John Steppenwolf: All I know is that 60,000 American dead is NOT a success, unless, of course, you're the Viet Cong.

Niall Carter:  Too soon?

John Steppenwolf: Nah.  Right on time.