30 September 2023 - poem

 Lawrence Hall

mhall46184@aol.com

30 September 2023

 

“Make it so, Number One”

 

-Star Trek: The New Generation (often)

 

Up at 0630 with coffee and Tuxedo-Cat

In the west-fading light of the still-full moon

To watch and hear and feel and touch and taste

The waning of night, the beginning of day

 

The air was cool, the grass was damp, the birds –

The birds were LOUD, fussing from tree to tree

An old lawn chair, layers of paint over rust

Was our captaincy over possibilities

 

“Is all well, Number One?” I asked the cat

He blinked his eyes that the world was ready to sail

Stay Close to the Telephone - poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

 

Stay Close to the Telephone

 

“Stay close to the telephone,” they used to say

Stay close to that Western Electric on the desk or wall

Since news of great importance might come your way

A message from the shop or some emergency call

 

“Stay close to the telephone” – you couldn’t go out

Without breaking contact in an hour of need

You could only wait in place in fear and doubt

For an order at last to move with speed

 

“Stay close to the telephone?” It had no reach

But a modern ‘phone drains you like a bloody leech

A Little Green Lizard and Her Leap of Faith - poem

 

82. 27 September 2023, Wednesday in Ordinary Time

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

 

A Little Green Lizard and Her Leap of Faith

 

She was the tiniest lizard you ever saw

Less than a feather on the back of my hand

Less than an inch but perfect, without a flaw

Perfect in function and form, as God had planned

 

I held my hand still to keep her safe

From accident or fall, or misjudged leap

But she knew her strengths, this reptilian waif

And launched to the leaves in a dramatic sweep

 

I wanted to warn her if she’d stayed for a chat:

“O mind where you leap – watch out for the cat!”

UNITED TATES POST OFFICE K RBYVILLE. TEXAS - photograph

Rain and Gasoline - poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

 

Rain and Gasoline

 

Do you like the rain? Or do you think about it much?

 

-Rod McKuen

 

Shoppers rattle their trolleys to their cars

An unexpected September thunderstorm

Splashes rain on the six-months-hot parking lot

Raising steam and hopes – will autumn ever come?

 

Thunderings rattle the ground and the air

From the service station up the concrete slope

Gasoline and diesel join the rivulets

In making iridescent the sloshing streams

 

Sale papers and cigarette ends float free

But only to the drains, not to the sea

 

Southeast Texas Alerting Network Adventures in Registration - weekly column 25 September 2023

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Southeast Texas Alerting Network Adventures in Registration

 

Last week KJAS Radio published a notice that those of us already signed up for STAN, the acronym for Southeast Texas Alerting Network, will have to register again for continued service, and that those without this needful program can sign up now  [Jasper County Residents must re-register for STAN | Local News | kjas.com].

 

STAN’s mission, per Amanda Gates, is to send out emergency alerts (fires, weather, and other crises), and notifications regarding street closures, water outages, traffic issues, and other useful information.

 

This summer I was certainly grateful for the wildfire alerts, and given our area’s dangerous weather, including tornadoes and hurricanes, this is a useful service.

 

Signing up for STAN is said to take only a few minutes. This was true last year; it is not now. Not for me, anyway. STAN is operated by a body styling itself Everbridge (and what is that supposed to mean?), and Everbridge has made registering a (insert expletive of choice here).

 

First of all, Everbridge insisted that my email address, which I have used for years, is not my email address, and blocked my re-registration without any means of appeal.

 

Given that re-registration is not a possibility according to Everbridge, I decided to register as if I were a new user. This was tedious but do-able; however, Everbridge insisted that my username was already in use. I tried a different name. This time Everbridge simply said that the username was not acceptable. I then went through some 20-30 usernames without success. Name after name, dreary imaginings and re-entries worthy of Coleridge’s “Rime of the Ancient Mariner.” The username that finally worked was an allusion to Saylor’s Creek, where my great-grandfather was made a prisoner-of-war (you know, one of those people a certain former president who never made the first day of recruit training doesn’t like) in 1865.

 

After an hour or so of fiddle-faddling with Everbridge’s obscure system, I am registered. I think. We’ll see.

 

I then read some of the heavy-handed warnings: “You must comply with Everbridge’s Acceptable Use Policy,” “You will be responsible…,” and a whole catalogue of such verbiage apparently generated by someone who wanted to be a prison camp guard and couldn’t meet the standards:

 

You will not…

You may not…

You must not…

You must…

You agree immediately…

You will be responsible…

You must comply…you must comply…you must comply…

You acknowledge and agree…

You agree to…

 

There are also cautions against transmitting secret federal information. I don’t have any secret federal information and if I did I couldn’t send it via STAN; this is a passive reception scheme that does not accept messages.

 

Everbridge is also known as:

 

Critical Event Management

Safety Connection

Community Engagement

Visual Command Center

Crisis Commander (isn’t this a video game?)

CareConverge

ManageBridge

EngageBridge

HipaaBridge

SecureBridge

Interactive Visibility

Nixle

 

No wonder Everbridge can’t keep email addresses straight; they appear not to know who they are.

 

Despite the vague sound of unmarked stealth UN helicopters, participating in STAN is one of our county government’s better ideas for promoting safety, and I encourage the reader to sign up for it.

 

Besides, maybe next year someone will have some high school students design an easier-to-use interface. I’ll bet they can do it.

 

For now, begin with Everbridge.com.

 

-30-

Everyone is Now a Two-Dimensional Religious Image - doggerel

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

 

Everyone is Now a Two-Dimensional Religious Image

 

News writers are dull, almost catatonic

Dispensing metaphors soporifically phonic

For in their world of the cliched and ironic

Every topic, every person is invariably

Iconic

A Little Kitten and a Little Girl - a sappy sentimental poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

 

A Little Kitten and a Little Girl

 

A little girl sits with her mug of milk

Happy and peaceful with her breakfast toast

Her little kitten lays beside her and purrs

And takes a delicate sip for itself

 

“DID YOU LET THAT CAT DRINK FROM YOUR CUP THAT CAT HAS GERMS GO WASH YOUR HANDS GIVE ME THAT CUP I NEED TO WASH IT I DON’T KNOW WHY THAT CAT IS IN THE HOUSE CATS HAVE GERMS DIRTY CAT SNEAKY CAT THEY’RE ALWAYS UP TO SOMETHING DON’T YOU EVER LET AN ANIMAL DRINK FROM YOUR CUP THEY’RE NASTY WE DON’T LIVE LIKE THIS WITH ANIMALS IN THE HOUSE THAT’S A DISGUSTING HABIT PEOPLE WILL THINK WE’RE LOW CLASS WE WERE RAISED BETTER THAN THAT DID YOU LET THAT CAT DRINK FROM YOUR CUP THAT CAT HAS GERMS GO WASH YOUR HANDS GIVE ME THAT CUP I NEED TO WASH IT I DON’T KNOW WHY THAT CAT IS IN THE HOUSE CATS HAVE GERMS DIRTY CAT SNEAKY CAT THEY’RE ALWAYS UP TO SOMETHING DON’T YOU EVER LET AN ANIMAL DRINK FROM YOUR CUP THEY’RE NASTY WE DON’T LIVE LIKE THIS WITH ANIMALS IN THE HOUSE THAT’S A DISGUSTING HABIT PEOPLE WILL THINK WE’RE LOW CLASS WE WERE RAISED BETTER THAN THAT!!!!!!!!!”

 

A little girl sits in her backyard swing

Happy and peaceful with her little cat

Two conspirators winking at each other

Far away from their disapproving mother

A Station Stop for the Hummingbird Express - poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

 

A Station Stop for the Hummingbird Express

 

Hummingbirds buzz the sugar water buffet

At this junction for the connection to Mexico

I feel I should be wearing a white apron and cap

Refills for everyone – and will that be to go?

 

No ideological baggage, no bumper stickers

Their maps all drawn for them by an invisible Hand

Their simple duties a transcendent joy

An ancient mission through divine command

 

Hummingbirds buzz the sugar water buffet

Then with a goodbye to summer they wing away

What This Country Needs is a Better Class of Criminals - weekly column, 17 September 2023

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

 

What This Country Needs is a Better Class of Criminals

 

 

I don’t mind a parasite. I object to a cut-rate one.

 

-Rick in Casablanca

 

 

I was frustrated when my lawnmower wouldn’t start. I had bought a new battery and was annoyed that it wasn’t holding a charge. I dismounted, dragged up my rolling stool, and sat down to examine the battery that to my surprise wasn’t there.

 

A thief in the night had yanked the battery, leaving only the stripped ends of the leads. That was unprofessional; a good thief would have brought the proper wrench or used the one I left within an arm’s reach of the mower. Tools were available, the porch light was more than adequate – how much of the work does a homeowner have to do for the contemporary petty criminal?

 

The bungling burglar didn’t get far with the battery, however; I found it about twelve feet away from the mower. The poor sap had somehow tripped, bringing some stacked firewood down upon him, and dropping the battery while in flight. A few feet away he managed to trip again over some more firewood, which is just plain embarrassing.  As a taxpaying citizen I expect a higher class of thief. No, I don’t necessarily mean a Raffles or a John “The Cat” Robie, but maybe just a good quality journeyman crook looking to build a better career.

 

The not-a-cat burglar does get some credit for focus, though. Close by the lawnmower was a Stihl leaf blower worth far more than the lawnmower battery, as well as an old but high-quality battery charger and a small air compressor. But, no sir, the lad wanted a lawnmower battery and he avoided all distractions in going for that. We must admire his sense of mission.

 

The follow-through was inept, though, leaving the battery, the object of his endeavors, behind like that.

 

And a real professional would not have left messes – electric leads torn loose, firewood all over the porch – it’s unseemly.

 

Frankly, I’m disappointed in the overall quality of burglars and looters today. Is this the best America can do? Texans used to make off with herds of cattle and now they can’t even pinch a lawnmower battery without botching the job.

 

I blame the teachers, fluoride, George Bush, vaccines, and Jewish space lasers for the poor quality of contemporary criminals. C’mon, America; we can do better!

 

 

-30-

What This Country Needs is a Better Class of Criminals - doggerel

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

What This Country Needs is a Better Class of Criminals

 

I was frustrated that the lawn mower wouldn’t start

And checked the battery - that wasn’t there

A dull thief in darkness practicing his art

Had spirited it away – that wasn’t fair!

 

But the poor stupid burglar had no profit that night

He stumbled on the porch and dropped his loot

Cracking the battery, so he fled in fright:

It’s just too bad he didn’t fall on his snoot

 

(Sigh)

 

Aspiring young criminals, roll up your sleeves -

What this country needs are intelligent thieves

These are not the Leaves of Autumn - poem in a summer of drought

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

These are not the Leaves of Autumn

 

These are not the leaves of autumn, these husks;

They died so young, fallen from the summer-burnt oaks

Leaving the lingering limbs barren of green

A struggle of woody cells against the drought

 

They wear no celebratory colors

Nothing of red or gold to catch the sun

For they died of thirst in their lost-green youth

Never reaching the October they had earned

 

These are not the leaves of autumn, oh, no

But only shells dry-rattling in the wind

The Existential Despair in Replacing a Lawnmower Battery - doggerel

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

The Existential Despair in Replacing a Lawnmower Battery

 

My language is blue and my knuckles bleed -

I can never find the wrench I need!

A Tin of Lipton's Tea from Hong Kong in 1970 - photograph

 I bought this tin - which really is made of tin - while in R & R in Hong Kong in 1970. I still make a cuppa from these leaves every few years.

Tea for Texas - weekly column, 10 September 2023

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Tea for Texas

Major General Urquhart: "Hancock, I've got lunatics laughing at me from the woods. My original plan has been scuppered now that the jeeps haven't arrived. My communications are completely broken down. Do you really believe any of that can be helped by a cup of tea?”

Corporal Hancock: “Couldn't hurt, sir.”

-A Bridge Too Far

 

Bubba Ebarb, of happy memory, required certain specific performances for his several successful restaurants.  One of his rules was that the iced tea would never reach the old age of one hour before it was tossed and replaced with a fresh brewing of the refreshing leaf.

This is the sort of value that made him a great success. Unfortunately, such reasonable expectations appear to be rarer now.

Iced tea has been a staple since around the time of the St. Louis Exposition in 1904 (Meet Me in St. Louis) when mechanical ice-making, the existing popularity of tea, an especially hot summer, and thirsty fairgoers together made a historical shift in refreshment.

Once upon a time in Texas a glass of good, fresh iced tea was easily available at any café’ in the Lone Star Republic, but now it’s a little more difficult to find at all and is often a vintage sludge.

Last week I stopped at a Famous Name Fat Foodery in Buffalo, Texas for a refreshing mid-morning cup of the good stuff, and the muffly voice crackling through the grill said that they didn’t have any tea-tea but that their mango tea was really good.

Mango tea. 

In Buffalo, Texas.

As Macduff does not say in Macbeth, “Oh, Texas, when wilt thou find thy wholesome ways again!”

Has Texas become a colony of West Hollywood? Is Mission Espiritu Santo at Goliad now a fusion cuisine restaurant specializing in avocado toast? When Cabeza de Vaca and his companions made their epic, years-long trek across Texas did they consider the majesty of the land and its vast spaces and exclaim, “Here we will establish our fruit bars, our incense shops, our therapy spas, our vegetarian Thai takeouts, our tea shops of infused bamboo shoots!”

On down the road I found a big Famous Name Brand truck stop which featured several tanks of iced tea.  The first tank oozed out something like an oil change.  The second tank dribbled out something even darker and more viscous.

I bought a bottle of water from the cooler.

Look, I’m not a tea snob; I’m even cool with teabags (gasp!). In the winter I like a good cuppa char; just a good black tea / schwarztee, and at all times I’m up for a glass of iced tea, Texas’ national beverage. The essential factor is that the tea is fresh.

Real Texans / Texians / Tejanos / Texicans drink real tea and drink it real fresh. Bubba would expect no less. God bless fresh tea, God bless Bubba Ebarb, and God bless Texas.

-30-

 

Watch Where You Step; There Might be a Senator - poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

 

Watch Where You Step; There Might be a Senator

 

 

But hiss for hiss return’d with forked tongue

 

-Paradise Lost X.518

 

 

The summer heat like judgement on the earth -

It fell upon the roiling afternoon dust

Where two foul snakes in deadly combat writhed

With hiss and strike and hate-spittled fangs

 

In a world of crunchy grasshoppers and tasty frogs

Of careless bunny rabbits and baby squirrels

The snakes found only their hatred for each other

Until one serpent choked on the other, and both died

 

And there, my children, is a lesson in brief

About the government of the State of Texas

 

Will the Plowed Boys Find Love in the End? - poem (of a sort)

 

Will the Plowed Boys Find Love in the End?

 

Romantic robots could bring peace to our streets -

The Plowed Boys would have something to fondle

Other than their idle trifles and bang-bang rifles

For in the end they would have dates after all

 

And will they wear

 

Their he-man soldier suits and bug-eyed shades

Their he-man soldier toys dangling from carabiners

Their radios and whistles and lip-dangling ciggies

 

                                                while in bed?

Joining the Class Struggle - poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Joining the Class Struggle

 

“Yuri, what splendid words!”

 

-Anna in Doctor Zhivago

 

Lift high the red banner, comrades and comradettes!                  

Lift high the made-in-China bullhorns against the rich

Make crudely misspelt signs and block the streets

(How dare the workers work while we’re yelling at them)

 

Pull down the statue of St. Joan of Arc!

Because she was, like, you know, a Confederate general

And smash the windows of the corporate coffee shops

(Make mine a decolonized double decaf)

 

Liberate the people’s goods! To arms! To arms!

(But who will stay behind to work the farms?)

Toys at the Base of an Oak Tree - poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Toys at the Base of an Oak Tree

 

“We'll be Friends Forever, won't we, Pooh?” asked Piglet.
“Even longer,” Pooh answered.

- A. A. Milne

 

You find them at the base of a tree sometimes:

A pewter knight or a plastic Robin Hood

Or a marble lost in the long-ago

Turned up among the weeds by shifting roots

 

In the leafy silences of summer a little boy

Practiced the arts of magic and manliness

With Robin Hood and the pewter knight searching for a jewel

To present to their Lady Marian

 

When he was a little older the boy walked to town

To the bus station, and off to a distant war

A jewel sacrificed to the blasphemy of the State

You’ll find his name at the base of a stone

 

But the pewter knight and the plastic Robin Hood

And beautiful Lady Marian still wait for him

 

Even the Oak Trees are Dying - poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Even the Oak Trees are Dying

 

“Wildfire…evacuation of nearby residences under way”

 

-news bulletin

 

Poor drought-dead leaves in mockery of autumn

Wind-rustle across the lawn as the dried husks they are

Rattling like withered exoskeletons along the dust

Or The Ancient Mariner’s dead sailors upon the deck

 

The exhausted earth is hot from a summer of drought

Cicadas have no hope in their poor songs

A drifting dragonfly wobbles in its flight

And the weather reports are but cruel teasings

 

The sour smoke of a month of forest fires

Chokes even the stars, who in despair do not appear

 

Another Funeral in Margaritaville - poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Another Funeral in Margaritaville

 

 

Introibo ad altare Dei.

 

Ad Deum qui laetificat juventutem meum.

 

-Missale Romanum

 

 

Of course all our friends are dying away

Old age sneaks up on us, ghosting us in turn:

Yevgeny, Jimmy, Dusty, Judith, Rod, and we

Who blessed each other in our happy youth

 

But I tell you we have a duty to sing our songs

Our perhaps artless lines lost long ago

Except that they’re not: we gave them to God

And He joined them to Creation for all of us

 

Of course all our friends are dying away

Except that they’re not

                                        See you in Margaritaville

Shelving Children Instead of Books - poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Shelving Children Instead of Books

 

“…it is estimated that Germany…destroyed over 100 million books in Europe.”

 

-Molly Guptill Manning, When Books Went to War, xv

 

In Texas

 

We ban children’s books

We don’t ban guns;

And thus we discard

Our daughters and sons

 

HISD to eliminate librarians, turn some libraries into discipline centers at 28 campuses (click2houston.com)