Happy Thanksgiving, America. Here’s a skinny but long list of things for which I am grateful: It’s not January. I could do without the heavy rain making a mud bath of the lawn, but at least, the leaves are finally out of the yard. My son is healthy and, as far as I can tell, happy.Continue reading “#230: A Poem of Gratitude”
Author Archives: michaeljarmer
#229: Sore Loser Angry White Guy
I am a sore loser angry white guy. I’m sore, yeah, not because my candidate lost, but because THIS guy won. And I’m angry, not because the guy that won was not my candidate, but because THIS particular guy is an inarticulate, stupid, immoral, ignorant, sexist, racist, homophobic, bullying man-baby. And never before in myContinue reading “#229: Sore Loser Angry White Guy”
#228: On the Day After the Election
Having wept myself to sleep the night before, I got up and went to work in the school house where we met in small teams in the library to plan or do curriculum work or talk about assessments, where instead I chose to color with crayons at the table our new librarian set up forContinue reading “#228: On the Day After the Election”
#227: What We Did Today
Today we were supposed to administer the PSAT to all sophomores and some juniors, but something went terribly wrong with the test booklets and the college board rescinded the exam. Suddenly, we had a half school day to kill. Our students, most of whom were expecting a day off, were “invited” by our administrators toContinue reading “#227: What We Did Today”
Notes Toward a Musical Autobiography: Volume XII, Letter G
Forgive me, music blogosphere, for I have sinned. It’s been three months since my last music blog, the continuing saga and silly self-challenge of listening to and writing about every single artist represented in my languishing cd collection. I got stuck in the F’s. There were a lot of them, first of all, two blogContinue reading “Notes Toward a Musical Autobiography: Volume XII, Letter G”
On Reading An Unpublished Novel I Finished 15 Years Ago
The novel has been sitting in a box, both a real box on my desk and a virtual box on my hard drive. I miss it. I finished it some fifteen years ago, having labored over it throughout the preceding five or six years. I have fond memories of its composition and of the wayContinue reading “On Reading An Unpublished Novel I Finished 15 Years Ago”
A Single Dispatch from Writer’s Camp on the 40th Anniversary of the MFA Program for Writers at Warren Wilson College
First of all, I was sick with a cold when at 10:30 pm I boarded the plane for a red-eye from Portland to Atlanta, a nearly five hour flight through most of which I would be sneezing and blowing and stuffing kleenex into my own private trash bag that I kept discreetly stuffed into theContinue reading “A Single Dispatch from Writer’s Camp on the 40th Anniversary of the MFA Program for Writers at Warren Wilson College”
#226: Orlando, Florida
In my classroom, alone, my senior students out already and a small, manageable list of things to do to wrap up the school year, I’ve got more time than I’m used to having and I find myself often thinking of you, Orlando, and looking at photos in an article, “Thousands Attend Vigil to Prove ThatContinue reading “#226: Orlando, Florida”
#225: On Writing Poetry in a Sports Bar
It’s the Lou Rawls they’re playing, which at first I mistake for Barry White, Lou Rawls and the rain, perhaps, that entices me to stay inside, ignoring the 47 inch screens lining every wall, muted today for Lou Rawls, the pinball machines, sports of all sorts, tennis of all sorts, grooving to “you’re gonna miss myContinue reading “#225: On Writing Poetry in a Sports Bar”
T@B Diaries #3: Barton Park
The t@b trailer’s fourth voyage, third diary entry, and second father, son, and dog camping trip, this time to Barton Park on the Clackamas river . . . during which frogs from a nearby pond sound off all night a noise not unlike the Australian didgeridoo, several of them, all resonating in different pitches; during which MichaelContinue reading “T@B Diaries #3: Barton Park”
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