Going Down

Well, here’s a little tale about my most recent fall. It happened outside a Cracker Barrel about a week ago on my way home from French Lick Resort. You see, my stepmother’s family lives all spread out across the country – literally from coast-to-coast – and, rather than have a family reunion every year, they all get together biannually and go on vacation together.  This year, we went to French Lick Indiana, which was great because it was less than three hours away. Anyhew, after staying up there for three days we checked out Wednesday morning, said our goodbyes and hit the road.  We drove for about an hour and then, just before we got to Louisville, we pulled off to eat, having eaten nothing in our hurried departure. I was with my dad, stepmom and her little grandson, Hagan. I ate well, had a cup of unsweetened tea and my usual one cup of coffee.  Then before we left I needed to use the restroom.  So my dad went with me, in case I needed help.  But everything went smoothly, no spillage or leakage I washed my hands and we left.  The only thing is, when I unzipped to go I had unbuckled my seatbelt…

We had just walked out the door and my chair had stopped.  It is so old that the power cord is worn—and really broken—that we have to tape it together so the fastener stays connected.  But some times, it loses contact and I have to play with the connector to get it to come back on.  So that’s what I did.  When I bent over to “fix” it, I tumbled down onto the concrete porch. As soon as I hit the ground, I heard the lady nearest me shriek, “Oh my god!”  Then automatically I was surrounded by hoards of people offering help and asking me repeatedly if I was okay, not realizing that I am used to that.  On these occasions, I am thankful that I have such a hard head.  I go down like a champ! 

Having been through this many times, I have learned that while bystanders are helping me up in my chair that it is better not to offer instructions about how to do it.  It doesn’t do any good anyway, they’re just gonna get’er done the fastest way they can, using brute force and no consideration. Bless their hearts. No matter how many times I go through this, it still makes me feel embarrassed. There is no nothing more emasculating than being scooped off the ground by total strangers. 

Upcoming Events/Appearances

•   Sunday, April 21st  @ 4pm -  Penn's Store - Gravel Switch, KY.. For driving directions click on this link: http://www.pennsstore.com/map/map.htm Will be reading in one of the final timeslots of the 2013 Kentucky Writers Day celebration.
  
  

Jude's Book Store

 

  

Intentions

     It's a good thing I'm not very adamant about keeping my New Year's resolutions because this year I made three (off the top of my head) and I haven't stayed true to any of them.  First, I said that I'd stop procrastinating on everything: returning e-mails, phone calls; checking my mail, reading books, adding movies to my Netflix queue; looking into things: music that people recommend to me, classes that I may be interested in, programs, government or otherwise, that may be beneficial to me. Secondly, I told myself that I wanted to learn Spanish.  I took a couple semesters in high school and then in college but I never had anyone to converse with, and without a way to practice regularly, that frivolous knowledge never materialized and faded away, like former phone numbers. Lastly, I vowed to start blogging again regularly.  I know that I have a lot ricocheting around in my mind, but most of the time those mental firings undulate and dissolve.

     So now, instead of calling them "New Year's resolution,” I'll just consider them "New Year's aspirations" or "New Year's intentions."  But better yet why don't I just drop the "New Year's" part altogether?  It doesn't matter what time of year it is; you don't need any specific occasion to follow through with something you want to do.  For me the problem is that I need some sort of tangible motivation before I will act on impulses, big or small.

    Never before have I had such apparently obvious reasons to make good on my intentions. Having a blog is sort of like having a webpage, except it’s free (and I'm all about free).  I want to start selling my books online because every time someone buys one, either from the local bookstore, off Amazon.com or off the publisher's website, accents-publishing.com, I'm missing out on being compensated for all my hard work. It was stipulated in my contract that the only royalties I would receive would be from the books I sold personally (50%).  It's true that being a writer is not all about the money.  If that were all that I cared about then I am definitely in the wrong business!  But, who are we kidding, it is a little bit about the money!  I mean, that's why writers try to get published, so they can reap what they’ve sewn (or wrote).  Unless I have a place for people to buy my books on the Internet, then someone else is profiting.  This is my formal announcement that I intend to have this page where people can buy my work.

     Regarding the other two aforementioned intentions, I am dating and have fallen in love with a beautiful Guatemalan lady. She’s a native Spanish speaker so no longer can I console myself with the excuse of ‘not having anyone to converse with,’ for not brushing up on my Spanish. And my desire to stop putting things off and to start checking into what’s available to me, I just want to expel the notion that I’m unreliable, flaky or not well informed. I’m with it, look out world, Jude’s on it!

     As is my custom, to include some poetry with these blogs, here are two poems written this year:

Last Taste

The morning is spent packing

an array of items,

cramming carry-ons and crushing

southwestern souvenirs.

We sip coffee to persistent knocking

as the lovely Latina

offers room service.

When all is accounted for,

one final sweep is made

before hitting the sandstone-lined streets

of San Antonio in search of sustenance 

(anything but Mexican).

We scurry up blocks and down sidewalks

but spot no restaurants and so descend to

the subterranean sector

to find our final fix of Texas flavor.

Then the river walk becomes

the “river roll,” as we creep

alomg concrete seeking legless-level access

for a tour of this busy waterway,

still teal from St. Patrick’s Day.

Half Night’s Sleep

Tired, stayed up till the moon mellowed

           woke with birds’ breakfast chirps

Once the hum of 1^st shift motors

meanders into awareness,

it’s no use staying in bed.

The day wears like baggy overalls,

            sags like lost lovers’ eyes.

A late afternoon nap becomes too much

            too late when I wake, groggy,

at 2 in the morning.

Out of sorts, I sort through PC pics,  

rummage social networks, hand-glide

digital displays and finally contemplate

refreshing my dinner, but first must

consider what to call it.

*The fist was started the day after I came home from the National Ataxia Foundation’s Annual Membership Meeting in March, which was in San Antonio. The other came about as I sat up late one night waiting to tire.

Hello again