Got a Story to Share?

Do you have a story to tell? The writers group at the Redwood City Veterans Senior Center is the place for you. It meets every Thursday morning from 10 to 11:30. The number of people who show up is decreasing and new members are sought. The most recent meeting drew only five people, but it still was lively with stories about growing up in Brooklyn just after World War II and another tale of working on a senator's staff in the nation's capital. Pre-covid days saw attendance at more than 20. Time has taken a toll. Past members who passed on included a man who helped develope the atomic bomb and a woman who worked on B17 airplanes. Most stories were less historic but still compelling, such as one recounting growing up on a farm during the Great Depression. Some members have written books. They include Steve Latner, author of "I Love You to Death" and James Clifford, who wrote "Philip's Code: No News is Good News - to a Killer." Don't expect an academic setting. This not a how-to class, but help is given if sought. "Mostly we sit and read aloud what we are working on," said Clifford. "Or we just talk. It is really a memoirs class. A great place to put together your family history."

A Leader for the Millennium

     Jim Clifford

The nation was shot and gone to hell
We needed someone to lead us well
A him or her, it didn't matter
As long as there's all that chatter
On the right shows

They must be in love, but not so old
fashioned they'd be married.
Someone with a partner would be good.
Loving animals and the outdoors
would also be a good pitch
No need to be rich.

Don't give a thought to wealth,
but they'd have to be big on health
Would all this be too much to ask?
Would it confuse your task?
To come up with a non-smoker,
Not a joker, a serious type,
No vulgarian, maybe even
a vegetarian?

The information was fed into a
computer that seemed to take forever as it
went through history's hall of fame and shame
But at last it came up with the name

"Adolf Hitler is your ticket to fame"
Oh, no, the wizards yelled,
Hitler will never do
Oh, yes, came the reply
He's the man for you

Isn't there
Someone else?
Some great power in reserve?
You're forgetting, the computer said,
That people get the leaders they deserve

Poets of August

The Poets of August                             By                      James O. Clifford, Sr.     "The Guns of August," the history teacher said.   That's the place to begin.   The book captures the heart of at least the start   of a war no one could win.    The prof lied.    Too many died for prose to do.    To really hear the beating heart    "The Poets of August" is the best place to start.    Don't bother to look.    There's no book of  that name      on the poets killed in the war.    Many, oh so many, whose pens will rhyme no more.    For now, a poem will do.    A poem written by a fool like me.    Only God could make Joyce Kilmer,    no matter what the scholars think of "Trees."    Kilmer died late. Killed by hate      so vicious no one thought we'd see its likes again.    He joined a long line of men: Brooke, Seeger, McCrae,    Sorley, Thomas, Rosenberg and Owen,    who said it best in "Dulce et Decorum Est."    Today, even Ph.D.s don't know what to say    when asked what WWI was called before WWII.    The World War, the Great War is the best they can do.    The poets knew.    It was the War to End All War.    Too bad it wasn't true.         ##

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In Remembrance Of Our Dear Friend,  Dr Roger Wiley, M.D.

 

The Sounds

               The Sounds

Once my life was filled with noise
A neighbor clanking dishes
While I tried to sleep
The shouts of children
Engrossed in play
When I tried to study or write.
Arguments between spouses
Loud or soft
Many languages stirred in
I heard it all
No insulation within our walls.
Now, I've moved
Quiet is what I sought
Now I have it
Day and night.
Yes, the birds do sing
Flowers and plants do grow
A car passes slowly by
Occasionally a phone will ring
I hear a plane pass by high in the sky
Or the traffic on the highway near by.
I never thought I'd miss
The clatters or the shouts
Of life going on around me
Until they are no longer come.
Now that I've moved on
To a quiet place where noise is lost
Where the closing of closet
Breaks the silence just a little.

Clara Clackum - 8/2013

Say What?

                                                            SAY WHAT?

You begin life with only the ability to cry, gurgle, and perhaps make some other indistinct sounds. As an infant you quickly learn that body language can substitute for the absence of language skills. Next you learn the power of the simple word NO. So many ways to use NO to voice your concerns. At pre-school level, the spoken word becomes the number one form to communicate; utilizing body language for emphasis. Bi-lingual children have a distinct advantage with twice the opportunity for making themselves understood. As education progresses, the written word gains importance. Our world expands from the community into a global situation.

I grew up in a small town, with limited travel, and without any global awareness. The levels of communication were quite simple.There was talking, whispering, silence, yelling, bullhorns, sirens, written words via letters, notes, magazines, books, sign language, photographs, sky writing, and the telephone. Not to be forgotten, the two tin cans and a string. Let's also not forget the unspoken communication called “The Look”. That stare bestowed on a child for some misdeed was a clear, clear communication. No words were ever needed to know you were in some sort of trouble. My father was a master of that look. Well into my twenties he still had the capacity to stop me cold with that look. It was never explained. You were suppose to know what it was all about. At times I got it totally wrong and confessed to something far worse than he had originally intended for that look to expose. I admit I learned that trait well from my father and used it rearing my own children. It did not lose any power over the years.

Nowadays, there are so many other ways to communicate including Email, twitter, SMART phones, texting, video conferencing, Skype, Blogs and YouTube. Emails, Facebook, and cell phones are a wonderful way to keep in touch with friends however, there is nothing sweeter than getting a letter or note in the mail. I love seeing handwriting on the envelope, knowing the message inside will be just for me. Call me old-fashioned but I hope the art of handwritten messages never dies out. It is so personal because it shows someone took the time to gather the notepaper or card, write out words of caring, locate a stamp, and get it into the postal system. This type communication will always be my favorite.

“What a lot we lost when we stopped writing letters. You can't reread a phone call.”

Liz Carpenter – (1920- ) American Writer and Feminist

The Subject Line Becomes The Title Of Your Post

Any formatting you make in your email will show in your blog posting.

Come on you guys, show me what ya got !

Yours truly,

that annoying little leprechaun

Ginsberg was Here

Nowl
By Jim Clifford

I saw the best minds of my generation
sit in coffee shops
laptops propped up like rows of tombstones.
They stare down, as if visiting a cemetery.
I hear Eleanor Rigby’s "look at all
the lonely people."

Imagine a world free of Holy Mother Media
and its Ministry of Truth
It’s easy if you try.

What a Brave New World
where the first cell was a phone.

They walk the streets like zombies,
eyes dead, talking to themselves.

Readers from "Fahrenheit 451" ?
No. They are not memorizing books
which will be burned 
for taking up space and trees.

Christmas Eve 2010

By Robert M. Parkhurst

 

Christmas Eve we were in Atascadero.   Jennifer, my daughter and her husband Todd had come down for Christmas.   Son, Ken, and his wife, Jerissa, and the kids had come over to our place and there was general confusion that morning.   Grandma Marge, Jerissa and Jennifer were buzzing about the kitchen in preparation for a dinner that evening.   Marge suggested we all go to Firestone’s for lunch in San Luis Obispo.   Jerissa said the children needed to take naps so she would stay at home with them.   Todd drove over to Firestone’s and we had a great lunch.   Marge and I shared a bar-b-qued tri-tip sandwich and we all ate in the sports bar.   When we got back to our house, it was decided that we didn’t have enough chairs for the table to which Ken had added two new leaves.

 

I decided to go to the oak furniture store in Paso Robles to see if I could get a couple of matching chairs that we were short.   I was surprised that they had about ten chairs that were an almost perfect match to ours and they were on special sale, usually $100. but now only $79. for the holidays.   I thought I would be lucky to get two chairs into my car that also contained two child car seats in the back.   I told the proprietor I would buy all the chairs he could get into my car.   I was again surprised that he got one in the front seat next to the driver’s set, one crammed in on top of the child seats in the back and even third one on its side in the trunk.   This was perfect since another couple and their two children were also going to join us for dinner after the special mass at the Catholic Church.   The mass started at 4:30 p.m. and we got a phone call from Ken telling us that the church parking lot was already full.  

 

We arrived and Todd dropped us off and went to find a place to park.   We went inside and looked for Ken --- he is usually easy to spot at 6’3’’ he is just one head above the crowd.   He was over to the side with Kenichi.   Jerissa, Anderson and baby Josef were down in front center where we were told we were to sit.  Singing started and there were lots of kids ages five to early teens dressed in costumes as shepherds, wise-men and so on, sitting around on the floor near the altar just barely out of sight.   This was going to be a re-creation of the manger scene and the birth of the Christ child.   There was a life-size doll on the seat next to Jerissa who was on the center isle.   As the lights dimmed and the stage lights gradually brightened, the shepherds took their places on the polished concrete steps to the altar.  Down the center isle came a twelve year old girl dressed in a long white robe and bare feet playing the role of the Virgin Mary.  To my surprise, she didn’t take the life-sized doll.   Instead she was handed my grandson baby Josef just two months old!   As she walked up the polished concrete steps, my heart jumped into my throat, my head was pounding - - -  what if she tripped on that long white gown and dropped baby Josef.   I was scared pale.  I sat down as Jennifer tried to comfort me.   I looked at Grandma Marge and she looked scared, too.   People behind us were gasping.   I was too scared to think clearly.  If I jumped over the pew and tried to grab the baby, the girl might get scared and drop him.  I was frozen in fear.  When it was over - - -  it seemed like an eternity, the girl made it down the polished concrete steps.  Each step she took I cringed.   She handed baby Josef back to Jerissa.  I gave a sigh of relief as I fell back into the pew.  

 

A few moments later all the children, whether they were in the play or not, were invited to the altar.   There was a big rush and some parents took their smaller children up the stairs to the altar.   Jerissa took baby Josef up there as well - - - yes, in a long purple gown that went all the way to the floor just like the white one worn by the girl who played the Virgin Mary. 

 

Then there needed to be pictures taken of baby Josef in the arms of Mary and then in the arms of several other children who played other parts in the play - - - some of them looked about seven.   People were pushing to get the best camera shot.  Who was going to drop baby Josef down the polished concrete steps?   The priest, Father George, was nowhere to be seen!

 

We finally all left the church.  Baby Josef’s car seat was locked in the church office in another building.   Someone got a key, but they were unable to open the door.   I took the key and opened it.   Who was watching Anderson and Kenichi in the busy parking lot  where parishioners were all trying to see who could get their cars out of the lot first to go home to Christmas Eve dinners? 

 

We all made it home.  I want to give great credit to Father George for making me pray more at that service than I’ve ever prayed at any church service before and showing me what a burden it is to be the grandfather of baby Jesus!

 

Do You Just Belong? by Anita Mae Lollar

 Are you an active member, the kind that would be missed --

Or are you just content that your name is on the list?

Do you attend meetings and even mingle with the crowd?

Or do you stay at home and crab both long and loud?

Do you take a creative part to help the club along?

Do you ever go to visit a sick member?

Or leave the work for just a few and then talk about the clique?

There is quite a program scheduled that means success if done and can be accomplished by the help of everyone –

So attend the meetings regularly and lend a helping hand and heart

Don’t be just a member.

Am I right or am I wrong?

 

Written by

Anita Mae Lollar

May 16,2013

How To Add An Image To Your Blog Posting

For reference this is a portion of what is called the toolbar (in "Edit post" window)

 To enlarge any of the following images, click on it.  When you are done looking at the image, use your browser's "Back" button to return to the posting.

1)  Click on the little slide icon to the right of the blue "Link" button.  That will open up the window

     below.

2)  If you want to upload a file from your computer, click the grey button that says "choose files".  A

     window like the one below will open for you to select your image.  When you have highlighted

     your image, click the button that says "open".

    

3)  It will take a couple of seconds for the file to upload.  When you see your image in the window,

     click the blue button that says "add selected".

 

4)  Voila, your blogging skills are getting better & better !

 

Request For Postings

  This blog is for all the members of the Veterans Memorial Senior Center Writing Class to post their work.  I hope that each and every one of them will share some of their work here so that the public can enjoy it.  All members have received invitations to this blog which allow them to set up their own accounts and post here.  Members will be solely responsible for the content of their work: editorial aspects, posting it, altering it, or deleting it.  You've been working hard on your writing and this is the venue to share it with family, friends, and the world at large.

Points Of Interest For Self Publishing:

Self-publishing a book: 25 things you need to know

Amazon Self Publishing 

Lulu Self Publishing 

Xlbiris Self Publishing

Lightning Source Self Publishing

Blurb Self Publishing

Let's make some of your great writing available to the public !