A Running Poem

I was looking for some inspiration this evening. I had a taste for a good inspiring poem about running. I landed on this site and learned of Charles Hamilton Sorley. You may want to visit the site and read about him. It will make the poem more meaningful.

The poem was written by a 19-year-old English army officer, Charles Hamilton Sorley, during World War I.

The Song of the Ungirt Runners
We swing ungirded hips
And lighten’d are our eyes,
The rain is on our lips,
We do not run for prize.
We know not whom we trust
Nor whitherward we fare,
But we run because we must
Through the great wide air.

The waters of the seas
Are troubled as by storm.
The tempest strips the trees
And does not leave them warm.
Does the tearing tempest pause?
Do the tree-tops ask it why?
So we run without a cause
’Neath the big bare sky.

The rain is on our lips,
We do not run for prize.
But the storm the water whips
And the wave howls to the skies.
The winds arise and strike it
And scatter it like sand,
And we run because we like it
Through the broad bright land.

I leave for Boston in three days. "And we run because we like it, through the broad bright land."

Until the next time
John Strain

Play Clothes

When I was a kid, we had "good clothes" and "play clothes." The rule was, when you get home from school, change into your play clothes. I can still hear my mom and dad in my head yelling out the door, "Are you wearing your play clothes?" There were many reminders when I came home. There was no excuse if the unthinkable occurred: messing up your good clothes when you should have been wearing play clothes.

I was an active kid. I liked to roll down hills, wrestle, climb trees, and play sports. It took way too much time to change into my play clothes, so I often lived on the edge. I was not alone. Other neighborhood kids had similar rules by which to live. If we were playing baseball for instance, and someone dove for a fly ball or slid into second base resulting in a big grass stain on their good clothes, play was halted while we all assessed the damage. The one poor bastard would be trying in vain to brush away the grass stain, while the other kids watched and thought, "But for the grace of God go I."

A lot of times it happened innocently and not out of defiance for the rules. Let's say you are walking home from school and some of your pals are playing baseball or football in a yard. It would be impractical to go all the way home, change and come back. That would waste too much daylight. Therefore, you wade into the game and tell everyone, "I'm in my good clothes, so take it easy."

The bluegrass in Kansas City was notorious for ruining jeans. Down here in Louisiana, the grass does not stain the way the Kansas grass did. Once a big stain was on your knee, you could try to cover it up, tell the truth and take your lumps, or try to lie your way out of the jam. I tried all approaches, but the honesty policy worked out best for me. I was a lousy liar so telling the truth just worked out best.

If I did not stain the heck out of the knees in my jeans, I wore them out. My mom bought iron-on patches to cover the holes. In my roughest days, she ironed a patch on the inside and outside of the jeans and reinforced the seal by sewing around the edge of the patch. If an archaeologist were to find these jeans he/she might conclude a devout worshiper of some kind possessed them, but my knees were not worn out from praying.

Now a days, we get to wear our play clothes to work on Fridays. I don’t think as much work gets done on Fridays for this very reason, but it sure feels nice and comfortable.

Until the next time
John Strain

Birds and Squirrels

I have added a squirrel-proof birdfeeder to the garden. This is how I do things, I start out with an idea; and then I go crazy adding and expanding on it.

From the simple idea of wanting to make a nice place to remember my dog, to a bird and squirrel sanctuary, has only taken about a month. I get a kick out of watching the squirrels and birds. Today, the birds really began showing up. At any given moment, there may be 5 squirrels, 2 blue jays and a cardinal or two hopping around the yard. They are making Rodney King's lament a reality - they are all getting along.

I throw seeds all over the ground to make the furry and feathered critters work for it. Now with the birdfeeder, the birds have a new serving line. The perch on the birdfeeder is on a spring and the weight of a squirrel makes it close off access to the seed. They can see it, but they can't eat it - supposedly.

I don't really care that much. Let them all eat. I am not through with this project yet. I still have to move my hummingbird feeder to the area.

Here in Louisiana, we have red headed woodpeckers, mocking birds, blue jays, and cardinals. I have seen all of them in the yard today. I am not certain, but it seems to me that a woodpecker could give a girl splinters. Groan.

I have traded a pet dog for squirrels and birds.

Until the next time
John Strain

TGIF

Happy Friday everyone. I hope you get some good R&R this weekend. It looks like this pup is on a roll.

Until the next time
John Strain

Helen Keller Jokes

This post has been found to be politically incorrect. Consider yourself warned.

Wednesday night, Barbara and I went to our local Chinese restaurant for dinner. We ran into one of my coworkers, her family, and another couple. Toward the end of the meal, my friend told me her son would love to hear me tell my Helen Keller jokes. I told a bunch of them one day at work and she passed a few of them on to her son who loved them.

After we ate and paid for our meal, I walked to their table to recite my jokes. There were four adults and four boys ranging in age from 8 to 14. I must tell you, I feel entitled to tell Helen Keller jokes since they are in fun and I am a blind guy myself.

I began:

Why does Helen Keller play the piano with one hand? Because she has to sing with the other hand.

How did Helen Keller's parents punish her? They rearranged the furniture.

How did Helen Keller burn her fingers? By trying to read the waffle iron.

How did Helen Keller burn her face? By answering the iron.

How did she burn the other side of her face? They called back.

What did Helen Keller do when she fell in the well? She screamed her fingers off.

The jokes were well received and the boys were going to tell them at school tomorrow. I am glad I can have a small part in perpetuating politically incorrect jokes. The funniest thing though was the youngest boy thought I was telling Martha Stewart jokes. He was laughing at all of them too.

I just thought of another joke:

A blind guy walks into a Wal-Mart with his seeing eye dog. All of a sudden, he begins swinging the dog around by its leash. The unsettled store manager approaches the blind guy and says, "Sir, may I help you." The blind guy replies, "No thanks, I'm just looking." Hehehehehe.

I have a few more Helen Keller jokes in my repertoire, but not really appropriate for young children. If you are dying to hear one of the dirty ones, email me and I will send it to you.

Now I know Helen Keller was a wonderful person who overcame tremendous obstacles. In life we all learn a thing or two about overcoming obstacles. I respect her and what she accomplished. I also like to laugh and I believe the term politically correct is another way of saying tight ass with no sense of humor.

Happy Thursday and keep smiling.

Until the next time
John Strain