a hearty vegan breakfast
OMG Caleb has a blog! Not only is he one of the most intelligent critics out in the world, and not only is his blog (which I discovered last night because I found people coming here from his link to me) one of the most tasteful and learned things around there, but I've seen him drunk and hungover and underdressed. We were friends in college (where I once bitched out one of his old girlfriends for casting aspersions on his sexual preference, only to find out that it was true), and then he let me crash at a flophouse Somerville Mass apartment with like six other guys. It was the closest thing to frat living for any of us ever, although we didn't really do anything all that crazy.
Anyway, check out his blog, it's good, he's one of the great ones. And he gave me the greatest compliment ever at the wedding of our friend and former flophouse roommate Craig, after white-knuckling the Taconic State Parkway in major fog from Queens up to Boston: "You know, for a straight guy, you have great shoes."
WHICH LEADS TO...the first ever Haibun Contest!
I've realized that I have only about three friends in real life, and no longer really have "a best friend." So nominations are open. In 100 words or less, compose a poem about why you'd like to be Official Best Friend of Haibun. All good entries will be posted here, and I will select my new Official Best Friend on May 1. If no one applies, I wouldn't expect a huge spike in my self-esteem level.
Send your entries here. Extra points for not sucking. All entries will win something intangible, like Truth or Beauty or some shit like that. Deadline is April 30 at midnight CST. Get started, y'all.
20.4.04
17.4.04
leftover jasmine rice with peanut sauce, organic coffee, a banana
this is actually a haibun
Try to slip out of the house early without waking anyone. Sammy stirs when I reposition him in the bed, kid never sleeps in his own bed anymore hardly, but he drifts back off next to his mom, safe. Grab some shorts, socks don't even know if they match, sweatshirt Liza wants me to throw out, shoes, Discman, Dani Siciliano CD. Gone.
Hearing chirping birds,
tempted to ditch my headphones--
screw nature. push play.
Walking is the only thing I do for me. Okay that's a lie. But it's the only time I'm alone. Okay that's a lie too. I'm a bigger liar than Bob Marley when he said everything's gonna be alright. Everything is not alright, yet. Maybe it will be, someday. Maybe it already is, who knows, I don't know. All I know for sure is that Dani Siciliano has my back, and that there is freedom in walking alone at 5:45 a.m. on a Saturday. It's almost like last night never happened.
break into a jog
break into a lovely sweat
break away from me
This electro-pop pingponging around my head. This rabbit I've frightened, sorry little dude. This feeling that I stomp around my life, rending my garments, wailing, gnashing my teeth. This morning sun in my eyes. This woman in sweatpants with two dogs, we say hi. This disconnect. This pattern to my footsteps, sometimes on the beat sometimes not. This realization that it is the beat that is irregular, nice one Dani. This wallowing in sadness. This thing Jon said on Thursday. This wonderful wide world that admits the presence of ducks, that allowed Sammy Sosa and Moises Alou to go yard in the bottom of the ninth yesterday while my son Sammy and I watched on TV and cheered and high-fived each other, this earth with its myriad miracles. This song. My footsteps. This song. My footsteps.
I walk straight ahead
as the fog lifts in the park.
Nothing more to say.
this is actually a haibun
Try to slip out of the house early without waking anyone. Sammy stirs when I reposition him in the bed, kid never sleeps in his own bed anymore hardly, but he drifts back off next to his mom, safe. Grab some shorts, socks don't even know if they match, sweatshirt Liza wants me to throw out, shoes, Discman, Dani Siciliano CD. Gone.
Hearing chirping birds,
tempted to ditch my headphones--
screw nature. push play.
Walking is the only thing I do for me. Okay that's a lie. But it's the only time I'm alone. Okay that's a lie too. I'm a bigger liar than Bob Marley when he said everything's gonna be alright. Everything is not alright, yet. Maybe it will be, someday. Maybe it already is, who knows, I don't know. All I know for sure is that Dani Siciliano has my back, and that there is freedom in walking alone at 5:45 a.m. on a Saturday. It's almost like last night never happened.
break into a jog
break into a lovely sweat
break away from me
This electro-pop pingponging around my head. This rabbit I've frightened, sorry little dude. This feeling that I stomp around my life, rending my garments, wailing, gnashing my teeth. This morning sun in my eyes. This woman in sweatpants with two dogs, we say hi. This disconnect. This pattern to my footsteps, sometimes on the beat sometimes not. This realization that it is the beat that is irregular, nice one Dani. This wallowing in sadness. This thing Jon said on Thursday. This wonderful wide world that admits the presence of ducks, that allowed Sammy Sosa and Moises Alou to go yard in the bottom of the ninth yesterday while my son Sammy and I watched on TV and cheered and high-fived each other, this earth with its myriad miracles. This song. My footsteps. This song. My footsteps.
I walk straight ahead
as the fog lifts in the park.
Nothing more to say.
14.4.04
folgers, bananas, still groggy from Monday's all-nighter
ah-one: New link: Blogging the Brewers on Al's Ramblings!!!
ah-two: Check the Chang for a great William Hung story.
ah-three: Me on Paulina Rubio in the Voice.
ah-four: Me on Allison Moorer on Music-Critic.
ah-five: If any Freelance Mentalist who has not yet contributed to the site is reading this, send me something in a week or you're off the masthead. I mean it this time. I love you all madly, kiss kiss, but still.
ah-one: New link: Blogging the Brewers on Al's Ramblings!!!
ah-two: Check the Chang for a great William Hung story.
ah-three: Me on Paulina Rubio in the Voice.
ah-four: Me on Allison Moorer on Music-Critic.
ah-five: If any Freelance Mentalist who has not yet contributed to the site is reading this, send me something in a week or you're off the masthead. I mean it this time. I love you all madly, kiss kiss, but still.
9.4.04
sunflower seeds for breakfast because the brewers are 3-1, brady clark hit two homers yesterday, junior spivey went yard, oh my gawd I love baseball again
Another review of which I'm proud. Why On!Air!Library! gets the top Friday spot over this, I don't know. Serves me right for getting Usher on top on Tuesday.
This is pretty amusing, too. Yes, Chuck asked me for permission before starting this thread. No, he didn't really need to start it.
Slate is messing up Condoleezza Rice. Like, pretty badly. I still think Scott Seward wins, though, with the Family Circus "not me" analysis.
Next week, I have a meeting that might determine my short- and long-term future in life. Wish me luck. I also start therapy again. Less luck is needed for that. Maybe they'll pump me full of antidepressants! Woo-hoo!
Another review of which I'm proud. Why On!Air!Library! gets the top Friday spot over this, I don't know. Serves me right for getting Usher on top on Tuesday.
This is pretty amusing, too. Yes, Chuck asked me for permission before starting this thread. No, he didn't really need to start it.
Slate is messing up Condoleezza Rice. Like, pretty badly. I still think Scott Seward wins, though, with the Family Circus "not me" analysis.
Next week, I have a meeting that might determine my short- and long-term future in life. Wish me luck. I also start therapy again. Less luck is needed for that. Maybe they'll pump me full of antidepressants! Woo-hoo!
8.4.04
some NBA bullshit at ESPN
Shocking that everyone (Jack Ramsey, etc.) is all gaga over Hubie Brown as Coach of the Year? Hardly: he's been around for long enough, he's "due," he's "turned around" a franchise that has been mediocre for a long time, added some people that had been pretty good and together they seem really good.
And he's white.
Shocking that everyone (Sam Smith, etc.) is all gaga over Jerry Sloan as "rebel" choice for Coach of the Year? Hardly: he's been around for long enough, he's "due," he's "turned around" a franchise that lost its two best players (who weren't really all that for the last four years or so and Matt Harpring (who is now being lauded like some God of Scoring when in fact he's just Matt fucking Harpring), added some people that had been pretty good and together they seem really good.
And he's white.
Shocking that no one is talking about Terry Porter? Well, to me it is. He's taken a franchise that let go of its THREE "best" (name-recognized) players, rebuilt the whole team around one left-handed square-headed scoring machine from Ohio State, and defied every conventional wisdom thingie in the world. Let's quote from ESPN's pre-season guide:
"With the changes the Bucks made in the off-season, hoping for a playoff spot will be a little bit of a stretch. There is potential in Michael Redd, Tim Thomas, Desmond Mason and [T.J.] Ford will be charged with leading them.With the changes the Bucks made in the off-season, hoping for a playoff spot will be a little bit of a stretch. There is potential in Michael Redd, Tim Thomas, Desmond Mason and Ford will be charged with leading them. The other teams in the East are just too talented for the Bucks to compete with this year. Rookie coach Porter is getting his first shot at heading an NBA club and will be getting his feet wet along with rookie point guard Ford. It will be trial by fire for both of them."
See that: "ROOKIE COACH PORTER"? He's a first-year coach who got his team into the playoffs with a bunch of nobodies and a tiny little rookie. Daniel Santiago was our center for the first half of the season! Now it's Brian Skinner, no one's idea of an Ostertag.
But everyone's all HUBIE and SLOANIE and no one talks about what Terry Porter has done this year. Sorry to pull the race card but argh this drives me crazy.
Shocking that everyone (Jack Ramsey, etc.) is all gaga over Hubie Brown as Coach of the Year? Hardly: he's been around for long enough, he's "due," he's "turned around" a franchise that has been mediocre for a long time, added some people that had been pretty good and together they seem really good.
And he's white.
Shocking that everyone (Sam Smith, etc.) is all gaga over Jerry Sloan as "rebel" choice for Coach of the Year? Hardly: he's been around for long enough, he's "due," he's "turned around" a franchise that lost its two best players (who weren't really all that for the last four years or so and Matt Harpring (who is now being lauded like some God of Scoring when in fact he's just Matt fucking Harpring), added some people that had been pretty good and together they seem really good.
And he's white.
Shocking that no one is talking about Terry Porter? Well, to me it is. He's taken a franchise that let go of its THREE "best" (name-recognized) players, rebuilt the whole team around one left-handed square-headed scoring machine from Ohio State, and defied every conventional wisdom thingie in the world. Let's quote from ESPN's pre-season guide:
"With the changes the Bucks made in the off-season, hoping for a playoff spot will be a little bit of a stretch. There is potential in Michael Redd, Tim Thomas, Desmond Mason and [T.J.] Ford will be charged with leading them.With the changes the Bucks made in the off-season, hoping for a playoff spot will be a little bit of a stretch. There is potential in Michael Redd, Tim Thomas, Desmond Mason and Ford will be charged with leading them. The other teams in the East are just too talented for the Bucks to compete with this year. Rookie coach Porter is getting his first shot at heading an NBA club and will be getting his feet wet along with rookie point guard Ford. It will be trial by fire for both of them."
See that: "ROOKIE COACH PORTER"? He's a first-year coach who got his team into the playoffs with a bunch of nobodies and a tiny little rookie. Daniel Santiago was our center for the first half of the season! Now it's Brian Skinner, no one's idea of an Ostertag.
But everyone's all HUBIE and SLOANIE and no one talks about what Terry Porter has done this year. Sorry to pull the race card but argh this drives me crazy.
100 words about the moon
The moon she just sits there idling this ridiculous night
I sit here idling too, my night isn't less ridiculous
We two in a staredown, hers benevolent but mine malevolent
I got a grudge and my liver's taken enough chewing
See it's all about femininity, about women's ways and meanings
Everything's a boy but the moon and the damn sea
Ain't no sea round here, who else can I blame?
Gotta be that menstrual circler full of herself up there
Checking me out but everyone else too, mooning us all
She disdains my our love every quarter half gibbous bit
The moon she just sits there idling this ridiculous night
I sit here idling too, my night isn't less ridiculous
We two in a staredown, hers benevolent but mine malevolent
I got a grudge and my liver's taken enough chewing
See it's all about femininity, about women's ways and meanings
Everything's a boy but the moon and the damn sea
Ain't no sea round here, who else can I blame?
Gotta be that menstrual circler full of herself up there
Checking me out but everyone else too, mooning us all
She disdains my our love every quarter half gibbous bit
6.4.04
no coffee yet, hungover from champagne at last night's seder, home with the kids all day
Kind of proud of how this one turned out.
This one too.
Oh, and this one, but mostly for the title, at least the first half, because Chuck must have written that second half.
Sorry about the own-horn-blowing aspect, but I'm in need of some ego-proppage. Dark days at Chez Haibun, lots going on, some of it not very summery.
But I love this time of year, Daylight Savings Day especially -- now that it's all dark in the mornings, I load up my Discman and go for walks which should really be runs in the morning, just me and 15 rabbits and whatever flava is in my ear. Of course I haven't gone yet, just thinking about it. Thinking about it more every time I see myself in a mirror, with my 15 pounds I don't need and my hangdog expression etc.
But, in good news, my great friend Lauri has had her baby -- no more waiting around for "the perfect guy" to come along, we got Science! -- and my kids are awesome and I get to stay home with them today, which fortune I will hopefully not ruin by obsessively checking baseball scores now that the season has begun (is it just me or is it wrong when Mark Loretta and Scott Podsednik are putting up monster stats next to Albert Pujols and Sammy Sosa? I know, I know, it's just one day, but still), and the world keeps spinning round, and I'm much better off than 99% of the people in the world....
Man I'm glad I'm re-starting therapy next week. And I'm glad of the new Dani Siciliano, and most of the new DJ Kane, and of the three or four people who read this stuff. Which means you.
P.S. You KNOW you're big pimpin' when you can take some time off your blog and people, like, volunteer to keep it up for you.
Kind of proud of how this one turned out.
This one too.
Oh, and this one, but mostly for the title, at least the first half, because Chuck must have written that second half.
Sorry about the own-horn-blowing aspect, but I'm in need of some ego-proppage. Dark days at Chez Haibun, lots going on, some of it not very summery.
But I love this time of year, Daylight Savings Day especially -- now that it's all dark in the mornings, I load up my Discman and go for walks which should really be runs in the morning, just me and 15 rabbits and whatever flava is in my ear. Of course I haven't gone yet, just thinking about it. Thinking about it more every time I see myself in a mirror, with my 15 pounds I don't need and my hangdog expression etc.
But, in good news, my great friend Lauri has had her baby -- no more waiting around for "the perfect guy" to come along, we got Science! -- and my kids are awesome and I get to stay home with them today, which fortune I will hopefully not ruin by obsessively checking baseball scores now that the season has begun (is it just me or is it wrong when Mark Loretta and Scott Podsednik are putting up monster stats next to Albert Pujols and Sammy Sosa? I know, I know, it's just one day, but still), and the world keeps spinning round, and I'm much better off than 99% of the people in the world....
Man I'm glad I'm re-starting therapy next week. And I'm glad of the new Dani Siciliano, and most of the new DJ Kane, and of the three or four people who read this stuff. Which means you.
P.S. You KNOW you're big pimpin' when you can take some time off your blog and people, like, volunteer to keep it up for you.
2.4.04
31.3.04
rice cakes and coffee
ITEM. My favorite five albums this year are by a semi-feminist dancehall singer, a former member of Menudo, a country singer who was mostly raised by her sister after their father shot their mother in front of them, a rapper from Chicago (but not the rapper from Chicago that everyone else is all salivating over, don't get me wrong, Kanye's okay and all), and a couple from San Francisco by way of Tijuana and Havana.
ITEM. My children can sing five different crunk songs, to one degree or another.
ITEM. I get incredibly happy geeking out about fantasy sports. Until last year, I didn't get it and made fun of people for doing stuff like that. But my hoops team is winning the league thanks to its over-reliance on Trail Blazers, Pistons, and Bucks, and my English Premiership team is in the top 10 along with my brother's team (he knows NOTHING about English football) and my kids' team, which is kicking both our arses. And I have TWO different baseball teams, the draft for the ILX one being tomorrow, it's all I can do not to spend work time tweaking. Oh Lord help a poor sinner.
ITEM. Here is my lineup for one of my baseball teams: C Joe Mauer 1B Derrek Lee 2B Michael Young/Mark Loretta SS Edgar Renteria 3B Miguel Cabrera/Bill Mueller LF Albert Pujols CF Juan Pierre RF Sammy Sosa UTIL Ken Griffey/Scott Podsednik/Geoff Jenkins, starting pitchers are Josh Beckett Sidney Ponson Barry Zito Dontrelle Willis Johan Santana, relief pitchers are Matt Mantei Jorge Julio Brian Donnelly. I know you don't care but still, it's helping me get back into baseball which I want desperately to do, I used to know all this stuff like the back of your girl's head.
ITEM. I am formally apologizing for that last crack. Also I am formally apologizing for your girl.
ITEM. If Fantasia Barrino doesn't win American Idol 3, my whole family will be heartbroken. We're all huge fans, even Sammy who loves her because she's from North Carolina, the state with which he's obsessed. She's better than Ruben and Clay and Kelly and Tamyra too. That's right I said it.
ITEM. Cancel all my previous statements about "Reasons To Stay Alive," the correct answer should have been Funkentelechy Vs. the Placebo Syndrome. Oh yeah and my kids and friends and family and my wonderful internet community et cet. But yeah, Lundberg Family Farms Sesame Tamari rice cakes and coffee and P.Funk pretty much works for me.
ITEM. My favorite five albums this year are by a semi-feminist dancehall singer, a former member of Menudo, a country singer who was mostly raised by her sister after their father shot their mother in front of them, a rapper from Chicago (but not the rapper from Chicago that everyone else is all salivating over, don't get me wrong, Kanye's okay and all), and a couple from San Francisco by way of Tijuana and Havana.
ITEM. My children can sing five different crunk songs, to one degree or another.
ITEM. I get incredibly happy geeking out about fantasy sports. Until last year, I didn't get it and made fun of people for doing stuff like that. But my hoops team is winning the league thanks to its over-reliance on Trail Blazers, Pistons, and Bucks, and my English Premiership team is in the top 10 along with my brother's team (he knows NOTHING about English football) and my kids' team, which is kicking both our arses. And I have TWO different baseball teams, the draft for the ILX one being tomorrow, it's all I can do not to spend work time tweaking. Oh Lord help a poor sinner.
ITEM. Here is my lineup for one of my baseball teams: C Joe Mauer 1B Derrek Lee 2B Michael Young/Mark Loretta SS Edgar Renteria 3B Miguel Cabrera/Bill Mueller LF Albert Pujols CF Juan Pierre RF Sammy Sosa UTIL Ken Griffey/Scott Podsednik/Geoff Jenkins, starting pitchers are Josh Beckett Sidney Ponson Barry Zito Dontrelle Willis Johan Santana, relief pitchers are Matt Mantei Jorge Julio Brian Donnelly. I know you don't care but still, it's helping me get back into baseball which I want desperately to do, I used to know all this stuff like the back of your girl's head.
ITEM. I am formally apologizing for that last crack. Also I am formally apologizing for your girl.
ITEM. If Fantasia Barrino doesn't win American Idol 3, my whole family will be heartbroken. We're all huge fans, even Sammy who loves her because she's from North Carolina, the state with which he's obsessed. She's better than Ruben and Clay and Kelly and Tamyra too. That's right I said it.
ITEM. Cancel all my previous statements about "Reasons To Stay Alive," the correct answer should have been Funkentelechy Vs. the Placebo Syndrome. Oh yeah and my kids and friends and family and my wonderful internet community et cet. But yeah, Lundberg Family Farms Sesame Tamari rice cakes and coffee and P.Funk pretty much works for me.
23.3.04
this one's for jeff chang: american idol final 12
leah labelle
oh seattle gurlz,
if ambition was the point
you'd be number one
john stevens
yeah he has a sound,
but it's high school glee club chic,
minus all the "glee"
amy adams
if she turned it loose
we would see the lion in the
new wave sheep disguise
latoya london
somewhere all the ghosts
are waking up. this cute beast
shouts down babylon
matthew rogers
why is this dude here?
he is only this year's josh
except not a creep
camile velasco
seven years from now
she'll record a perfect song,
that's right, I said it
jennifer hudson
with aaliyah hair,
suddenly less riveting.
where'd jennifer go?
jon peter lewis
underestimate
mormon unity, my friend,
at your own damn risk
jasmine trias
the ear-flower is
in danger of becoming
this year's "205"
diana degarmo
like an easter egg
with nothing inside it yet,
pleasing pastel punch
george huff
thick as tar, that voice;
but there is a bubbling spring
if you like that stuff
fantasia barrino
ev'rywhere at once
blocking all objections; pure
funky checkmate joy
leah labelle
oh seattle gurlz,
if ambition was the point
you'd be number one
john stevens
yeah he has a sound,
but it's high school glee club chic,
minus all the "glee"
amy adams
if she turned it loose
we would see the lion in the
new wave sheep disguise
latoya london
somewhere all the ghosts
are waking up. this cute beast
shouts down babylon
matthew rogers
why is this dude here?
he is only this year's josh
except not a creep
camile velasco
seven years from now
she'll record a perfect song,
that's right, I said it
jennifer hudson
with aaliyah hair,
suddenly less riveting.
where'd jennifer go?
jon peter lewis
underestimate
mormon unity, my friend,
at your own damn risk
jasmine trias
the ear-flower is
in danger of becoming
this year's "205"
diana degarmo
like an easter egg
with nothing inside it yet,
pleasing pastel punch
george huff
thick as tar, that voice;
but there is a bubbling spring
if you like that stuff
fantasia barrino
ev'rywhere at once
blocking all objections; pure
funky checkmate joy
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