Songs of Sixty-Four

                                                                       When I'm 64

Images of valentines , birthday greetings and bottles of wine

swirled inside and out and all over again. Wondering if the door was locked, as the clock hadn’t struck a quarter to ten P.M.  That post card with a well crafted stated point of view was hidden away so well that it might never be found. Worried that there is nothing really handy, not even doing gardens or pulling weeds to prove one’s worthiness. No Vera, Chuck or Dave to reinvigorate affections. The question of being needed or fed was completed in the form that was filled out a lifetime ago.  Is the answer ‘yes’ a true or false memory?

Uninspired, dried up and panicked Ernest only got to 62. One blast and it was over. Dad’s heart was shattered days before retirement eligibility but at least his spirit lives on.  Each day this vessel makes it beyond those buoy markers becomes another victory. A few friends are like leaves from Neil’s maple…. some falling finished, some weak would be blown this way and that some still are brighter and greener than ever. 

                                                         One of These Days - Neil Young
                                                      (Song appropriate - video inspirational)

Meanwhile an original member of the band, finally flying up and out of his cocoon, casually intentionally inspires nurturing the return of what might be considered modest dormant gifts. Dreams of a house much like the one of an older ageless Daryl slowly mitigate the anxiety about the light at the tunnel’s end getting larger. A new wrecking ball has made room for awareness that one can believe in a promised land on this side of Highway 9 and live the dream now, or at least a form of it.

“The cool kids become cool adults, ” the headlines read, as the distant cousin, a Jersey shore troubadour, revealed the map home thundering down the road of a land of hope and dreams through a city of ruins. (A celebration - a rock and roll revival sing-a-long.) Those once in charge considered playing music a frivolous childish exercise. Contemporary music has come with a warning label since it’s conception as the best example of irresponsible immaturity. 

                      http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=31tgD-JVpIc&feature=related

                                                         

“No one over thirty years old who is in their right mind would be serious about popular music or poetry. Where is the responsibility to the family, or to yourself?” they said. “What about the real world?” they questioned.

“But it’s the music that brought and continues to deliver joy. Music soothes the pain. It is at the root of all experience. There is that proverbial individuated soundtrack to the journey and the set-list evolves day-to-day, year-to-year. The words in songs and the poetry crack open the window to the soul and the heart, and everything miraculously becomes clear “ the pilgrim called out.

                                                    

Now that the second half is in full swing it is hoped that it’s not too late to tap into the flow and be precisely what God intended all along. It is not about fame or fortune but rather just being. Humble gratitude overflows the cup with the awareness of another breath and another beat of the heart. Well, you never know there might be a song or poem in all of this.   

                                                             

“Our tradition teaches us that sound is God. That is, musical sound and the musical experience are steps to the realization of the self. We view music as a kind of spiritual discipline that raises one’s inner being to divine peacefulness and bliss. We are taught that one of the fundamental goals a person works towards in his lifetime is knowledge of the true meaning of the universe - its unchanging, eternal essence…. The highest aim of our music is to reveal the essence of the universe it reflects, and the ragas are among the means by which this essence can be apprehended.”

-       Ravi Shankar

“Poetry, music and dance are all expressions of a living God.”

-       Rumi

“And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.”

                            ― Friedrich Nietzsche (source: David Arn’s tweet)   
                                                                        http://www.davidarn.com/

** Gratitude Moments. 64.3.9, 64.3.27. and 64.3.29

 A day was celebrated with number two at the Philadelphia Museum of Art getting our spirit tanks filled with each with the art of Van Gogh.  

Sunflowers- Van Gogh

Philadelphia Museum of Art - Photo by Leigh

                                                          

Sound Check Party At Bruce Concert

While on another evening it is reported that the first one and I were seen dancing in the darkness on the edge of town singing “We take care of our Own” with the Boss and the E-Streeters while connecting with the BFF and his crew.

Otis Redding !

                                         

Of course there is no coincidence that a new companion joined the clan bearing the name “Otis Redding.” Story has it that as a young pup he used to "sit on the dock of the bay” and thus the name. (And, his birthday being two days after his predecessor, Dylan,  and 7 days before George Harrison’s ....and my own.)

                                                       









amdg

On the Happenings in Wisconsin

“The lesson lies in learning
by teaching I will be taught
For there is nothing
Hidden anywhere
It is just all there
To be sought”

- Look to your soul, Procol Harum



Who would think that the joy of the Super Bowl trophy returning to Titletown would be short lived?

The heart started breaking when it saw how those who are of the “noble profession” are being treated in various parts of the country. Proof positive that ignorance is the enemy. Maintaining the status quo in this blog and being silent about this issue would be compliance. There is a persistent fear that the oft idealized profession and teachers portrayed in books and movies such as The Blackboard Jungle, To Sir with Love , Dead Poets Society , Mr. Holland’s Opus, Dangerous Minds, Mona Lisa Smile , Music of the Heart, Freedom Writers and so many many more may become fantasies and ineffable anomalies to future generations.



(The job posting and conditions of employment below appeared in a nightmare about what is happening in Wisconsin, Providence , RI , New Jersey and New York.)


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                                                               Wanted

Needed individuals who are compassionate and caring. They will be passionate about their “work” and their clientele equally. These employees are to open doors so their clientele may recognize and use their own God-given gifts. These clients then can, without fear, identify their own verse in the great play and make their own lives extraordinary . Candidates will go out of their way to mentor their charges by freely giving their expertise as well as being a role model demonstrating a positive attitude about aspects of life . These individuals will be expected to always be enthusiastic.Their personal values will meet the highest moral and ethical standards where they will be admired by peers , supervisors and the general community. It is expected that the significant candidates in this career will maintain a high level of subject matter expertise as well as intellectual rigor for their own continued growth and development.

Candidates will be innovators and creative in their delivery of their services. Core competences required for the position include  flexibility and adaptability to the changing environment inside and outside the organization. Successful employees then must be adept with leading edge technology and how it impacts their profession and their clientele. Terms such as “sherpa”, “coach”, “encourager”, “servant”, “counselor” and “facilitator” will be defining qualitative factors of their role. The ability to communicate on all levels at all times and in all circumstances will be an essential measurement of success. Assuring that their charges are equipped with the appropriate tools, knowledge and skills at the completion of their relationship will also be considered to be a minimum performance standard for all hired.


There will also be some basic conditions of employment that must be subscribed to, including but are not limited to:

• Individuals in these positions will have a specific schedule but must be available at all times for emergencies and other organizational considerations. (24/7)
• It is expected that qualified candidates will take a personal interest in the needs and achievement of everyone of their charges personally
• They must be 100 % responsive to all groups who have a stakeholder interest in the success of their clientele as well as the overall institution.
• These individuals will work under all conditions, positive , mediocre and adverse.
• If any level of management exhibits any type of incompetence the candidates are expected to remain silent about their concern.
• Compliance and silence will be expected when basic personnel practices and procedures are violated by supervisory personnel.
• Candidates challenging any action of supervisors or management will be considered disloyal to the clients and the overall mission of the organization.
• Membership in any organization that attempts to protect the interests and integrity of the employees will be considered a disloyal and rebellious act.
• If these employees are ever suspected of violating any real or perceived law they will be dismissed summarily without due process.
• Their day to day and continued employment is completely at the will and discretion of others and can be adjusted in the blink of an eye.
• Assignments and job duties can also be altered at the whim of management.
• Expression by the employee of any political or religious view that might considered contrary to that of management is considered a dismissible offense.
• Total compensation including benefits for all college degreed candidates will always be less than the compensation of comparable careers for college graduates in the private sector.
• Additional supplies and tools needed to successfully complete the job performance will be paid for in full by the employee.
• Management can add to or subtract from these conditions of employment without any notice to anyone anytime.

Each of the above required competences and conditions of employment will be multiplied by a factor of ten for all employees for at least 40% less pay in private and parochial schools.

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Teaching is the only major occupation of man for which we have not yet developed tools that make an average person capable of competence and performance. In teaching we rely on the "naturals," the ones who somehow know how to teach.
~Peter Drucker

Teaching is the profession that teaches all the other professions. ~Author Unknown

A good teacher is like a candle - it consumes itself to light the way for others.
                                  ~Author Unknown



“We sanctify all we are grateful for” – A. DeMello SJ

I am grateful for the teachers who encouraged me to be me.
I will never, ever forget !

amdg


A truth about the Wisconsin matter:

http://blogs.forbes.com/rickungar/2011/02/25/the-wisconsin-lie-exposed-taxpayers-actually-contribute-nothing-to-public-employee-pensions/

What non-political experts are saying about the impact of teachers, their effectiveness and salaries
(Princeton- Brookings)

http://futureofchildren.org/futureofchildren/publications/journals/article/index.xml?journalid=34&articleid=82&sectionid=486

 Click link....
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s8UL_9R_W-Y&feature=related

The "Delightful Surprise": Poetry 101

"O me, o life of the questions of these recurring, of the endless

trains of the faithless, of cities filled with the foolish.

What good amid these, o me, o life?”

- Song of Myself, Walt Whitman

Why am I always taken back by those experiences that are little delightful surprises? You know what I mean. I am marking time doing this or that throughout the day and then suddenly out of nowhere comes an unexpected, un-planned, unseen event or person that brings a humble smile across my face and my heart. These surprises seem to come in all forms, sizes and scope. Some are more dramatic than others. Some seem some so coincidental or unnatural that others consider them as miraculous. Some call these graces, blessings or tender mercies. Some say it is a result of just being present to the world, as sometimes we move so fast that we can often miss those “delightful surprises.”

Recent meditations and reflections on where I have been and what I have done with my life and discerning where I want to go from here have been arduous exercises that would seriously disappoint Ignatius of Loyola. Weaving in and out of the busy-ness of the day and the consideration that my journey so far had been a series of Odyssean mis-steps that kept me away from being open to the current song of the morning bird or immersing myself in the beauty of bright piercing orange-red streak across the heavens at sunset. Opening the street posted mailbox the other day I received a package from the college where I recently served as advisor and faculty member. The departure was not planned and I had been attempting to put

the complete experience behind me. That desire for amnesia would change with the opening of the packet.

In the package was a computer summary and detail of the student evaluations for an English class I had taught on the main campus a year ago. Opening the report I critically thought” Well, this is typical” not realizing that what was about to happen was one of those “delightful surprises”, “gift”, “blessing “ and “grace.” The students rated me, the learning environment and so on and so forth. I hate to say that I wasn’t too surprised with the almost perfect scores I received on teaching, methodology, and helpfulness and so on and so forth. What took me back completely was the number of handwritten comments about what they learned and liked most about the class and the experience. Most of the eighteen students wrote about how they liked and appreciated the sections and lessons on poetry. Comments like “ I never liked poetry before”, “who would have thought poetry can be fun”, “I like learning about the different types of poetry”, “Mr. S made learning poetry interesting and fun,” to “ “I just bought my first collection of poetry because of what I learned in this class.” Flabbergasted! Unbelievable! Humbled. These were the comments a group of 18 and 19 year olds that I struggled to keep awake in our class at eight am three mornings a week.

If you know me you already know that I am not being boastful with this illumination of sorts about my students’ perceptions and feedback about my teaching. What is important is that “who would of thought one who in his early pre- teen years hated poetry would eventually be delighted to no end that he would be a catalyst to helping young adults finding some joy in their own discovery of poetry.” So this “delightful surprise” was the seed that transformed my personal reflections into “gratitude” for those teachers and friends who took the time and care to introducing me to the world of poetry – reading and even attempting at writing my own…. specifically: Irving (professor/mentor), Bill Z. (my creative writing professor), Kirk (counselor, poet and journeyman) and all of course the gratefulness is abundance of all those poets!

It is interesting to say the least to recall those teen years and how I was embarrassed to share with my best friends that I had been a closet poet of sorts. A member of a secret society of one I struggled to craft ideas and feelings in poetic format or just rewrite favorite verses from favorite poems in a spiral notebook. I had made sure that I securely hid this collection under my bed with old paperback poetry anthologies of Blake and Frost and of course a few Playboy magazines .It was a number of years later that as teacher I had hoped to pass on what I had learned and share with my students the joy I had found in the world of poetry... and somehow maybe reach another “closet poet” or two. The “delightful surprise” suggests that maybe; just maybe I was able to do just that.

Who would have predicted that this “surprise” would happen just days before “National Poetry Month?” So here are a few items and links I used in my classes when I would teach poetry.

There is a moving introductory monologue about the purpose of poetry in the movie Dead Poets Society where the teacher, Mr. Keating, gathers his class full of prep school boys and says:

“We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because

we are members of the human race.  And the human race is filled with passion.

Medicine, law, business, engineering, these are all noble pursuits, and necessary

to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.

To quote from Whitman: "O me, o life of the questions of these recurring, of the endless

trains of the faithless, of cities filled with the foolish. What good amid these, o me, o life?”

Answer: that you are here. That life exists, and identity. That the powerful play goes on,

and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute

a verse. . What will your verse be?”



(watch 9 minutes)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TiKM6g-dfBo&feature=related

Here is from My Favorite Poem Project. It is famous and everyday folks reading their favorite poems.

http://www.favoritepoem.org/

May I suggest watching the following:

We Real Cool

OUT, OUT

The Holy Longing

Then there is a collection of videos of famous poets reading their poetry at the Dodge Poetry Festival and I have collected a few of my favorites here.

http://www.youtube.com/grdodge#p/u/18/wHT9kilQ1kg

http://www.youtube.com/grdodge#p/u/57/-sbyQzGue1c

http://www.youtube.com/grdodge#p/u/44/kKFe0wY-7-A

http://www.youtube.com/grdodge#p/u/3/6PRHqylG2ic

One of my favorite poems about finding one's voice.

Autumn Poem

In the last jovial, clear-sky days of autumn
the mockingbird
in his monk-gray coat
and his arrowy wings

flies
from the hedge to the top of the pine
and begins to sing — but it's neither loose, nor lilting, nor lovely —

it's more like whistles and truck brakes and dry hinges.
All birds are birds of heaven
but this one, especially, adores the earth so well
he would imitate, for half the day and on into the
evening,

its ticks and wheezings,
and so I have to wait a long time
for the soft, true voice
of his own glossy life

to come through,
and of course I do.
I don't know what it is that makes him, finally, look
inward

to the sweet spring of himself, that mirror of heaven,
but when it happens —
when he lifts his head
and the feathers of his throat tremble,

and he begins, like Saint Francis,
little flutterings and leapings from the pine's forelock,
resettling his strong feet each time among the branches,
I am recalled,

from so many wrong paths I can't count them,
simply to stand, and listen.
All my life I have lived in a kind of haste and darkness
of desire, ambition, accomplishment.

Now the bird is singing, but not anymore of this world.
And something inside myself is fluttering and leaping, is
trying

to type it down, in lumped-up language,
in outcry, in patience, in music, in a snow-white book.

--- Mary Oliver

Two more interesting poetry web sites....

http://www.poets.org/

http://poetsonline.blogspot.com/

amdg

The Day the Poetry Died

A couple of weeks after my CABG (Coronary Artery Bypass Graft) in 2008 I found my way to the Dodge Poetry Festival that was held a few miles from my home. Still physically weak , my soul also required a shot of spiritual adrenaline and I was called to this gathering of poets from around the world.It was a festival that was held for the past twenty two years every two years in of all places Northwestern New Jersey!It's been featured on PBS television and written about in books and magazines. I had the opportunity to attend five of these festivals previously and was present to see and hear Poets Laureate Billy Collins, Robert Pinsky, Stanley Kunitz, Ted Kooser, Robert Hass, Ed Hirsch and master poets such as Mark Doty, Lucille Clifton and my hero of early poetic and manly journey - Robert Bly. "The Woodstock of poetry" has been its label.One year it rained all weekend and I believe I heard Carlos Santana's drummers off in the distance as we slid in the mud from tent to tent.

http://www.dodgepoetry.org/

Coming from a narrow escape from the grips of the grim reaper I was grasping for hope and optimism on what would might become my last visit . I was so anxoius that I sought out and met with poet Ted Kooser,a businessman turned poet, and shared with him my surgery,my new life and yet to be celebrated newly found song of the second chance dance. Though he looked at me with an uncomfortable sympathetic grin he autographed signed my book. I was a seeker and I found him!

But this visit to these hallowed grounds was also just days since my friend's tragic suicide.He had lost hope . His favorite poet was Robert Frost and it seemred he didn't take Frost's words to heart.It seems his drastic painfilled act was a precursor to the major economic catastrophy of what was about to consume the the world. I still wonder if he knew what was coming. He was very close to major players in the investment banking world and if you saw him or saw where he worked you wouldn't expect him to be a lover of poetry.Maybe it was as simple as banking and poetry are like oil and water.

"A long, long time ago...
I can still remember
How that music(poetry) used to make me smile.
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those people dance
And, maybe, theyd be happy for a while.

But february made me shiver
With every paper Id deliver.
Bad news on the doorstep;
I couldnt take one more step

I cant remember if I cried..." (from American Pie, Don McLean)

We all know what happened to the economy at the end of 2008 and beginning of 2009.It was February 2009 ,I think, when I read another shocking obit.The Dodge Foundation was cancelling future poetry festivals. The economic plaque of the world had found its way to clogging the arteries of the heart of poetry. But the Dodge Foundation assured the world that even though the festival was gone poetry was not dead and the foundation would still find ways to serve,but on a much smaller scale. Sounding much like my cardiologist, "courage" they said.

Someone mentioned"As long as some hearts hope and ..as long as trees bloom, birds fly and sing , rivers flow and mountains kiss the clouds,...there will be poetry." With death there is life.

Listen to Billy Collins read his poem "The First Night." Here is a link of reading three poems including the second "The First Night" at last fall's festival.That's me over on his right side about 3/4 the way up in the audiennce.LOL

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kKFe0wY-7-A&feature=channel_page

I have also included my little farewell and thanks to the festival.


Dodge Requiem

I didn’t know it would be the last gathering
Of voices calling out
In the wilderness.
I didn’t know that when I first heard
The greek chorus chanting
That some economic wind
Would try as hard as it could
to blow out their flame .
I didn’t know that it would come to end before
My own soul would transcend this existence.
Part of my heart’scheduled rehabilitaion -
I wonder and wander now,
weathered worn journeyman,
“Was all this just some cruel joke or ploy.?”
Remembering…Companion searching souls
On our way to Emmaus
Together we anxiously listened
To the weekend’s wind,
Fed together at the mecca of words.
I parked myself at heaven’s opened gate
But the meter was running out of coins and time.
Remembering…Another year, another day
Brown eyed rock and roll woman to be
a seeker numbered 21
Became consumed with delight
A spirit inebriated by a unique Collins.

Arisans ,philoshophers, searchers,
discovers of the eight or nine great mysteries
Seers and Finders of a light in their own right
deserved of the crown of laureate.
Inspirers, consolers, wisdom word weavers.
Over the years their blessings cast out
To the throngs yearning for something more.
One crowned prince peeled back his layers
Humbled recollections of his own illumination
From his private odyssey,
The best was yet to come.
Would I do anything different
If I had known that this pilgrimmage
would be one last procession in collaborative communion?
Filled with hope and champagne
hopped the bus with the troubador
To Atlantic City where everything comes back.

-- J. Sobecki