dagblog - Comments for "A Wind-Swept Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon"

Good one, moat!!

MrSmith1 — Wed, 12 Oct 2016 02:52:17 +0000

In reply to I thought Saint Peter

Good one, moat!!

At Heaven's gate, will
Saint Peter use Saltpeter,
on Trump's libido?

I thought Saint Peter

moat — Wed, 12 Oct 2016 00:29:53 +0000

In reply to Excellent, moat!!

I thought Saint Peter
kept entry a chancy thing.
Reincarnate Now.

Excellent, moat!!

MrSmith1 — Fri, 07 Oct 2016 03:20:13 +0000

In reply to The immortal soul

Excellent, moat!!

An immortal soul
demands that you acknowledge
heaven gets crowded.

The immortal soul

moat — Fri, 07 Oct 2016 00:37:43 +0000

In reply to A Wind-Swept Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

The immortal soul
is not a person as much
as what does not die.

Our life is poorly equipped
to examine the matter.

Thanks DD. Ah Coffee ...

MrSmith1 — Sat, 01 Oct 2016 21:22:49 +0000

In reply to Oh Mr. Smith, I think I am

Thanks DD. Ah Coffee ... Ever since I was a very small child I have loved the smell of coffee. I remember my dad making coffee in the kitchen of our house on Lostbrook Road in West Hartford, CT. He would always let me smell the can of coffee. Coffee was, in those days, as far as I knew, only percolated. My dad made coffee every morning and he took his coffee with milk or cream, light enough to make the coffee look like caramel. Maybe that's what made me not like it. My mind couldn't get past the color and how it didn't taste like caramels. I had a similar problem eating beets. I couldn't get past my mind telling me that because they were a certain shade of red, they should taste like cherries. I have never eaten beets to this day for that reason. Anyway, when I was little, I didn't care what coffee tasted like, I just loved the smell. It meant, morning and breakfast and my parents, and happiness. Other than a sip of my father's coffee with cream, which didn't taste like caramels, I didn't drink coffee when I grew up and went away to college. I don't know why, maybe it was the times, (I was a freshman in 1968), or the place, (I was raised on Long Island and went to college in Oklahoma City), but I went through college never drinking coffee. When I had to study, I'd drink tea that I brewed to a fair-thee-well on a hot plate in my dorm room. Mostly, it just never occurred to me. When I was a Senior, I was beginning to have some success in being cast in, not only my college productions, but in some well-respected community theaters in Oklahoma City. The biggest was the Oklahoma Theater Center. I was cast as Benedict in Much Ado and then later the same year, cast as the Noel Coward part in Private Lives. It was great fun, but at the dress rehearsal for Private Lives, during the final act, there is a breakfast scene, in which my character says a lot of funny things and, given we were on a 3/4 thrust stage, and quite close to the audience, we had to eat real food, mostly brioches with butter and jam ... and drink coffee. I hadn't thought anything of it, as we had mimed it all through the rehearsal process. When we got to the dress rehearsal, suddenly we had real props to deal with, and real food and drink. As we had a small, invited audience for the dress rehearsal, we couldn't stop if there was a problem, we just had to get through it and sort things out later. Well, we got to the breakfast scene, the play was going like gangbusters and I'm talking away and buttering my brioche and pouring this stuff into my cup and drinking it. It was delicious!! After the show, I sought out the prop person and asked him about the stuff he put in the coffee pot. I said to him, "What was that we were drinking in that coffee pot?" He stared at me blankly for a long moment. I said, "It was delicious, what was that stuff that was supposed to be coffee?" He kept staring at me ... then with a complete deadpan look that Buster Keaton would have admired, he replied, "Coffee" ... I then realized I had never tasted coffee as an adult ... and this prop person must have thought I was an idiot. Then he said, "Was it too hot?" I said, "No, no, it was perfect. Thank you." And I have been a coffee-drinker from that moment on. A true story.

Oh Mr. Smith, I think I am

Richard Day — Sat, 01 Oct 2016 17:37:23 +0000

In reply to MEANDERINGS

Oh Mr. Smith, I think I am having problems counting on my fingers. hahahahah

I love your meanderings today

But coffee.

I really do love a good cup of coffee (as close to espresso as I can get).

Always have and always will.

More than booze or cigs.

Which says a lot. hahahahah

MEANDERINGS

Richard Day — Sat, 01 Oct 2016 17:30:18 +0000

In reply to A Wind-Swept Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

MEANDERINGS

I got sick last week

Food poisoning or the flu

What the hell was it?

Bill Maher is on

I get a kick out of this

It is all I got

PC and TV

I get no kicks from Champaign

But I love commenters.

hahahaha

Kaine & Pence are next

I kind of like Timmy Kaine

He is a nice man

And yet my mind turns

To the leaf colorations

And my few years left

How many falls left?

And how many Rider Cups?

Or trips to the store?

Power went out last night

It lasted less than an hour

When will my lights dim?

I should not worry

About minus twenty F

Now it is sixty

Tomorow's not now

It creeps on a petty pace

From day to day (ouch!)

Politics save me

I ignore the petty pace

And that's all I got.