NOW LET US ALL BE THANKFUL

I used to rhyme but haven't lately;

by lately I mean forty years.

A bit of free verse said it all

and saved my soul frustration's tears.

~~~

When my dad retired from the Foreign Service, he let loose his Inner Writer. He and my mother settled in various locations (sand-in-the-shoes-Foreign-Service-syndrome). In one of these places which my mother called, "This is my last move," he started a small newspaper. The circulation was intended for the folks in Green Valley, Arizona, a senior citizen haven for retirees who no longer wished to shovel snow. He said he wanted to have the opportunity to write a column nobody would censor. Each column would begin with a light verse to put the readers in a good mood because the meat of the column would be a rant against or for (Reagan, Udall) sufficiently caliente to draw the citizens from their slumber. One Lt. Colonel was so drawn he came after my dad with a shotgun. My mother, having experienced riots in Jerusalem, Caracas, and Cali, wondered why he couldn't simply print the verse and skip the column. She was wary and weary of contemplating an early death. I was given some space for a poem which she greatly appreciated as the poems were an attempt to add beauty to the world. She thought I lived in the Land of Da Nile as her view was that you could name any country and it would be going to the dogs. Having observed several of these countries, I concluded she was the most cheerful cynic one might encounter. I am neither cynic nor an inhabitant of the Land of Da Nile but I catch myself echoing her words. This might be a result of biblical training. No, not from church. From my mother, since she was prone to quoting Scripture. She said it was a paradox that an atheist can quote all she wants whereas a religious person is the victim of complaints if he or she even suggests that the meek will inherit the earth. A college friend wrote a few years ago that he and his wife had retired to Green Valley. The paper my dad sold (yes, it wasn't the last move) had prospered beyond anything he had envisioned. I looked it up and there was nothing recognizable except the photo on the banner of the mountains in the distance. The circulation is enormous but only the name remains of his work. No caliente in this news. I often wonder what my dad would have done with the Internet. I can see him copying and pasting and checking his copyright manual and having a conversation with Chris Hedges. Two peas in a pod. I am grateful for those days even though I was gone, living in San Francisco. Perhaps they gave me the incentive or the genes to be writing my "column." My mother would be relieved that I still prefer to add beauty to the world and, like her, still believe the meek will inherit the earth. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

...blessings to you on this Thanksgiving week

and remember not only the pilgrims feasting; 

remember also Pine Ridge...