Tuesday, December 31, 2013

A FARTHER TIME



MY GRANDFATHER, Elwin Atwood Sherman, with me on his knee.

Fast forward two generations (and it sure feels like it), and that's me with Grandson Myles on mine.

“For last year's words belong to last year's language, and next year's words await another voice.” 
        ― T.S. Eliot

Happy 2014, all.

Sunday, December 22, 2013

RUM A DOLDRUM, RUM A DOLDRUM

IN THE FOURTH GRADE, I was singled out to perform 'The Little Drummer Boy' in the Christmas play. Took me this long to live and rewrite the tribute:



THE LITTLE WINTER DOLDRUMMER BOY

Come, they told me
doldrum a drum-drums.
A cold malaise there'll be
doldrum a drum-drums.
Our hands and feet will freeze
all numb a numb-numb.
We’ll cough, shiver and sneeze
until we succumb,
to the doldrums,
dumb a dumb-dumb.

Or, we’ll warm our toes
our fingers and thumbs.
We’ll drink umbrella drinks
of butters and rums.
We’ll slurp them down wethinks
and sit on our bums,
bum a bum-bums,
bum a bum-bums.

Shall I pour for you
my rum a rum-rums?
Your butts I'll warm up, too.
Come chum a chum-chums.
We won't care if it's cold
and won't be so glum.
We'll drink 'til winter's old
come spring and then some,
what we become,

Merry Doldrums.

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

JUDY RIDING HIGH

THREE YEARS AGO TODAY, my sweet Judy was stricken ill.  She spent the next 16 months struggling through multiple surgeries, setbacks and rehabs, until making her ultimate transition from this earth.  She never lost her courage, her good humor, and that radiant smile.

This is how to best remember her, from a day we made a "toy run" on the Harley.  She loved to ride.

You are still sorely missed, dear Judy.

Ride on......

Monday, December 9, 2013

THE GRANDPA RESOLUTION

 (I have a new granddaughter, Norah, and in lieu of making New Year’s resolutions for 2014, I’m sending a welcome letter to my new off-offspring.)

          My Dear Norah:
          You arrived in the world today (pardon the mess), and the announcement came with the usual vital statistics: you weighed-in at eight pounds, thirteen ounces, and a smidgeon over twenty inches long. Don’t labor over what a “smidgeon” is just yet. You’ll discover that we humans have many ways of assigning units of measure, especially in this North Country. You’ll have enough trouble later sorting out oodles, smithereens and heebie-jeebies.
          You’ll have to trust me, that someday when someone asks you about your birth size, and you tell them that you were a smidgeon over twenty inches, they’ll know what you mean.
          This naturally brings us to your biggest earthly challenge: the art of communication. Not to worry. At first, nothing intelligible is expected from you. In fact, in your first photo, there you are with your thumb in your mouth and your first finger in your nose. You have a close relative (ahem) who believes that such early psychomotor dexterity means that you might one day be a maestro conducting your own symphony at Carnegie Hall, but that’s just the way he thinks (wink-wink).
          The truth is, you COULD grow up to do just that, if that is within you, and when I think of how wide open the world is for you, I get dizzy with excitement. But, it’s also my duty and devotion, right about here, to help you prepare for what’s coming. I know you will have to travel your own path in your own way, but I can offer a few tips:
          It’s probably best to not pet any animal on someone else’s leash without asking first.
          When you make a drawing (which you will be called upon to do) and you choose to color the sun purple, and someone tells you that you’re wrong, try to ignore them. Sometimes, the sun IS purple. Don’t budge. If you see it and feel it purple, use purple.
          I want to explain to you how it’s possible that the first time you stand in the sand at the edge of an ocean, the water from a wave rushing back through your toes can make you feel like you’re changing the shape of the whole world --- but I won’t try. When you do it yourself, it will be all yours.
          I never learned how to whistle through my fingers, but your Great-Grandmother Pauline knows. She’ll be happy to show you.
          I am, however, pretty good at ducks & drakes. This is where you take a flat stone and throw it just right so it skips across the water. When you’re ready, I’ll be happy to have a skip-off with you. It’s all in the hips and wrists. You may choose the stones.
          There is an old expression: “Every form of refuge has its price.” Please, always keep this in mind. If you love to fly, you’ll need to have a long talk with gravity. If you want to ride a unicorn, you’ll need a good unicorn saddle. If you make mudpies, you’ll get muddy. If that’s fine with you, and you want to make a mudpie for me, I like mine packed with lots of sticks and gooey stuff.
          You’ll have moments when you just don’t understand why things happen the way they do. Never stop asking. Keep at it until you find the answer that works for you.
          I’ll bet you a mudpie that no matter how hard you try, you won’t be able to say “black bug’s blood” three times fast. This is one of life’s great mysteries, along with the inability to sneeze with your eyes open or tickle yourself. And, very few people can wiggle their ears or raise just one eyebrow, but I’ll be happy to practice trying with you.
          All your life you will be faced with things you should do, things you could do, and things you would do. How you do or don’t do them will make all the difference.
          There are many perils waiting for you up ahead, but just as many pleasures. It’s a good idea to always have a Plan B. Don’t ever stick your tongue on a frozen flagpole. Forget what’s fashionable and wear comfortable shoes. You can’t ever clean up all the world’s litter, but you can always not throw any yourself. Find the common ground between poetry and science. Be kind to animals. Ride the rollercoaster at least once. Dance with abandon.
          Know always … that you are loved.
          Welcome home, my dear Norah!
          Love, Grandpa El

* * * * * 
Senior Wire News Service syndicated humor columnist writes from Bethlehem, NH.  His new book: “Walk Tall and Carry A BigWatering Can,” is now available. Copyright 2013 by B. Elwin Sherman.  All rights reserved.  You may contact him here.




Wednesday, December 4, 2013

LET IT GO, LET IT GO, LET IT GO.

PROOF POSITIVE, that once upon a long-gone winter, I actually enjoyed romping outside all day in the cold & snow.  Shown here with sister Sue.

Now ... finding a way to recapture that bliss.

I'll need, at minimum, a new attitude and a magic pom-pom.