cynicminded

Lookie what I picked up at Amoeba today:









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Unfortunately I was only in the area because my Grandma just had heart surgery at the Kaiser on Sunset.
She collects frogs and I have given her one each visit since she has fallen ill. My mom jokes that they are all gonna end up coming back to us one day (over 50 years of collecting!). Hopefully that's not for a long while.

Here's a poem I wrote about her right before all this happened. While it might come across as mean spirited, It is a picture of everything I love about her:

Its De-Lovely

The night is young, the skies are clear,
and if you want to go walkin, dear

Our own Ethel Merman is singing, from the back seat,
songs she hasnt heard in over fifty years.
It doesnt matter that, when she sings,
it is with the voice of a sixty-year smoker with emphysema,
or that, when she cant recall the words,
she must resort to whistling (hissing) the melody
dryly through her front teeth.

All that matters is a momentary escape
from tremor-fits and replaced hips:
Its delightful, its delicious, its de-lovely

At the moment she is so far off she cant hear
our snickering at the opposite end of the van.
We laugh, not just at the falsetto of a tone-deaf, Bronx Jew,
but at how, being so wrapped up in the music,
she has failed to notice we have reached home
and have been sitting in the driveway for the past 3 minutes.

We wait there, anticipating a predictable crescendo,
a sustained final syllable,
and then, her smooth
fade back
to reality.


-Cynic