Throwing Away the Alarm Clock by Charles Bukowski | The Writers Almanac with Garrison Keillor - StumbleUpon Share my father always said, "early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise." it was lights out at 8 p.m. in our house and we were up at dawn to the smell of coffee, frying bacon and scrambled eggs. my father followed this general routine for a lifetime and died young, broke, and, I think, not too wise. taking note, I rejected his advice and it became, for me, late to bed and late to rise. now, I'm not saying that I've conquered the world but I've avoided numberless early traffic jams, bypassed some common pitfalls and have met some strange, wonderful people one of whom was myself—someone my father never knew. "Throwing Away the Alarm Clock" by Charles Bukowski, from . © Harper Collins, 2004. It's the birthday of the poet , ( books by this author ) born in Sussex, England (1792). And, "Chameleons feed on light and air: Poets' food is love and fame." There's a new biography of President Obama by editor David Remnick. His nickname was "Satchmo." short for "Satchel Mouth."
"Alice, Off the Page" by Calvin Trillan (Originally published in The New Yorker. Compilation copyright (c) 2006 The Conde Nast Publications, Inc. All Rights Reserved.) Now that it's fashionable to reveal intimate details of married life, I can state publicly that my wife, Alice, has a weird predilection for limiting our family to three meals a day. --"Alice, Let's Eat." There was one condolence letter that made me laugh. I once wrote that tales about writers' families tend to have a relation to real life that can be expressed in terms of standard network-television fare, on a spectrum that goes from sitcoms to Lifetime movies, and that mine were sitcoms. Once, during a question-and-answer period that followed a speech I had given at the Herbst Theatre, in San Francisco, someone asked how Alice felt about the way she was portrayed in my books and articles. The letter that made me laugh was from Roger Wilkins. --"Family Man." The party was thrown in late 1963 by Monocle, a doomed magazine of political satire. "I'm afraid so."
Shel Silverstein: Poem of the Week “My beard grows to my toes, I never wear no clothes, I wraps my hair Around my bare, And down the road I goes.” – “My Beard” Where the Sidewalk Ends “Needles and pins, Needles and pins, Sew me a sail To catch me the wind.” – from “Needles and Pins” Falling Up “Millie McDeevit screamed a scream So loud it made her eyebrows steam.” – from “Screamin’ Millie” Falling Up “I will not play at tug o’ war. I’d rather play at hug o’ war” – from “Hug O’ War” Where the Sidewalk Ends “If you are a dreamer, come in.” – from “Invitation” Where the Sidewalk Ends “Anything can happen, child, ANYTHING can be.” – from “Listen to the Mustn’ts" Where the Sidewalk Ends “Balancing my ABCs Takes from noon to half past three. I don’t have time to grab a T Or even stop to take a P.” – “Alphabalance” Falling Up “Last night I had a crazy dream That I was teachin’ school.
love song American Idol is not a show I watch, with two exceptions. Back in 2004, I watched the last few episodes of the season because I loved Fantasia Barrino’s voice. I never watched it after that, until this season. Katie and Trey watch it, and I had dinner with them a couple of weeks ago and was entirely dazzled by a couple of the women. Whenever I am alone with you, I feel like I am home again. I don’t mean what other people mean when they speak of a home, because I don’t regard a home as a … well, as a place, a building … a house … of wood, bricks, stone. That punched me when I first heard it, back in 1980. And yet at this stage of my life, I don’t feel lack, I don’t feel emptiness or loneliness, I don’t feel incomplete in myself, or in my life. But it is also true that I feel like home is a space within myself, for myself, and I never really got that before. Like this: Like Loading...
off to Chicago taken yesterday morning! Oh happy happy day — I’m off to spend time with my wonderful daughter Marnie and her equally wonderful husband Tom, in Chicago. At least I hope so; Chicago has been hit with so much rain they’re having pretty terrible flooding. Flights have been cancelled, so I’m just hoping hoping hoping that I get there. Otherwise, I’m not sure when I’ll get to see them and it’s already been way too long. one my favorite pictures of Marnie, ever. We always have such a good time together, the three of us. They’ll be coming to Austin for Christmas this year (and staying with ME!) Here’s a wonderful picture of Marnie and Tom right after they were married. jumping for joy on wedding day I won’t be posting while I’m away, so have a wonderful weekend! Like this: Like Loading...
who IS that guy? here we are in Ubud Understandably, many of my Facebook friends were puzzled by pictures from my Indonesia trip that included a man — especially since he was clearly not a stranger to me. Many photos show us with our heads touching, or smiling at each other. It wasn’t a secret; when I quickly replied that the man is my husband most people simply said they hoped I am happy, or that they want the best for me, and one dear friend wrote me back channel to express her care and concern. I’ve got to tell you, that was pretty cool. (But then, this friend is pretty cool so I shouldn’t be surprised.) So here is the deal — again, not a secret. And so months passed, and I found my way. My husband realized he didn’t want anyone else either. afternoon tea at Alam Jiwa in Ubud: chocolate cake with ginger tea Our trip to Indonesia was beautiful, and we relaxed and just enjoyed being together.
quiet happiness I am a huge fan of big loud happiness — group happiness, squealing happiness, outside happiness, it’s all good. When everyone is there, when it’s just a great laughing good time, that’s good happiness. I enjoy it a lot. But actually, I think I enjoy the quiet happiness even more. Quiet happiness is probably closer to some of the synonyms, too: contentment, pleasure, even joy, though I’ll bet joy goes both ways. I’ve been going to Mozart’s, a coffee house on Lake Austin, at sunset. beautiful light, and my notebook for writing. The light in that picture fits quiet happiness, doesn’t it? When the light is fading, I go home to my quiet, beautiful little home and read, or find a movie that makes me happy, or make my own music. my new ukulele, my old banjo, and my even older guitar. my babies. I’ll cook a nice dinner for myself, take pleasure in the preparation, enjoy the quiet and my sweet life. Tonight I’m going to a concert — Iron & Wine. Here I am with a broken heart. People say cheer up.
we live on a PLANET y’all there’s Earth, that little dot, image captured by Cassini, from the other side of SATURN. Which is ANOTHER PLANET, incredibly COOL. We live in our little houses or apartments, on our little streets, in our cities or towns. And don’t get me started on the Milky Way, and then the whole dang universe. For me, this doesn’t bring about some reminder of how unimportant I am, how small I am, how inconsequential my life might be. nebulae totally freak me out. i can hardly tolerate looking at them! Looking up into the universe, or down into the depths of our oceans, kind of freaks me out. flying over Sumatra May 2013 — left Singapore at sunrise Do you remember being in elementary school, coloring maps of other countries in the world? I love this world. Like this: Like Loading...
comp’ny When you’re my kind of Texan (i.e., the kind with the big accent and rural roots) you say the word like that: comp’ny. When I lived in New York I think I usually tried to say it with the three syllables — com-pa-ny. Comp’ny just means someone’s coming to stay with you; they may or may not be stressful, they may or may not be the kind of person/people you have to dress up for and be “on” for. Comp’ny just means guests. Even visiting family is comp’ny. So late Friday night, Sherlock and Peggy arrived. Saturday we wandered around, ate a lot of good food, went to two bookstores, watched the bats fly out from under the Congress Avenue bridge, ate more good food, and then while we were walking off our dinner, we stopped in a haberdashery. And then Kitty, a fuschia-haired woman who worked in the shop, approached me and put a hat on me. me! I was so enamored, I bought the hat. On the way home, we stopped at the Messina Hof winery to do a little wine tasting. Yeah, that’s me and Peggy.