Tuesday, December 26, 2006

Season of Reunions, 2006

leaves from Grandma's photo album

Sarah Spinner and Brendan Murphy

Now that it's the season of reunions, news
Of kids, their creeps and crawls, their coos,
Their standing with assists, their chews
On solid food, indeed their very snooze,
Is all the headlines. Such trumpetings of pride!
One thinks childbirth hadn't yet been tried.

Congrats to brand new grandma, Joan,
Also new great grandma, Mary.
I write in silence, sitting here alone,
That never was such loud joy!, nary!,
Than when new Mamas Chris and Kary,
One in September, one in January,
Borned their new bairns -- such felicity! --
Sarah J. Spinner, and one Murphy, Brendy T.

She's so possessed of her grandkids' glories,
Grandma revels entirely in their stories;
And at Christmas, as she deals out the pelf,
You'd think she gave them birth herself.

Congrats, too, to grand pop, Michael Arthur,
Of Murphy's All, the original, the author.

Christine and Bryan Spinner

Also news in 2k6,
Chris has come to live here in the sticks
Of Darkest Albany, specifically Clifton Park,
Where daily she would rise up, in the dark,
And head off, in her lab coat, to fight crime.
(Also, you know, white coats keep off grime.)
Fresh from the city with her new credential
From Johns Hopkins, she's snagged both residential
And career positions, and dragged along her Bryan,
Who is so employable, I'm not lyin,
You could drop him down in Istanbul --
He'd start a Turkish computer school.

Brian and Karyn Murphy

Now that he's in a relationship, married again,
Working two jobs, in possession of a minivan,
My guess is Brian's sold his Mitsubishi.
So keeping up the sporting look's not easy;
His new Tiger Woodsy growth of beard,
Though on a white boy it's a little weird,
Goes nicely with a Nike cap,
(With bouncy Brendan sittin on his lap,
It just does the trick!) Plus, admiring Karyn,
Smiling at his side, the soul of caring,
Lends him, by osmosis, airs of glamour,
Her Athenian looks so much the eyes enamour.
She, all day, works with bad boys from the hood;
Then comes home to find her two boys so good.
She gets quite wearied in her role as counselor,
Then dearly needs someone to counsel her.
Which prompts the question, "What About Brian?",
Title for a drama, it's about a sensitive man.

Chris Spinner and Brian Murphy
siblings, close in age, twins in spirit

These two are like a mixed doubles team!
Just try to get a shot in the space between --
He's quietly stepped through it with a volley
Or she has cranked a two-fister up the alley.
And now that they're both living here,
It's the geographic center of our sphere.

Pam Hollinde and Jack Mooney

Also at the center, here in Smallbany,
Pam and Jack, who mean it all to me,
Are engaged in off center undertakings
Of all kinds. Taking trips, making paintings,
Studying Tai Chi meditation, karate,
And generally anything rather arty.

Jack's now such a big kid at fifteen,
A nearly six foot eating machine.
He's gaining real competence at school,
Getting 90's and high 80's as a rule.
An honor roll kid, now that's my boy.
I'll get him the new X-Box for a toy!

Paulie Paul and Monkey Moe Mooney

Last year they went to Harry Potter town,
And crossed that London Bridge of great renown!
Never found Diagon Alley. They're still proponents
Of British fiction's magic, against all opponents.
This year from Hawaii they sent coconuts
To grandma, shaved, painted, mailed, addressed:
The mailman was surrealistically impressed!

Paulie dressed for Halloween in a duct tape suit,
Complete with top hat. His newly lanky body cute
In a silver attired Tommy Tune on Broadway way.
Maura, dressed as a boy, a more than average cutey,
Could not disguise her flaming teenage beauty.

Both violinists, Maura's in an orchestra,
Paulie does fiddling gigs in a local bar.

Barbara Goldberg and Mark Mooney

Mark found himself 'tween a hard place and Iraq
When Barbara decided to get up her back
And veto further adventurous glory,
Though he was getting many a good story.
She'd rather have her kids' daddy back.

Now he's back, he's interviewed for TV,
Which, if you blinked, alas, you didn't see,
Thus is fame's cruel, chill inconstancy.
(If you need to see it, I've got it on DVD.)

Then real peril, a brush with the big CA,
And an equally perilous surgery.
(Phew! Glad things turned out okay.
He can trot the globe another day.)
Meanwhile Barbara handled inquiries
Like a PR pro, and put our minds at ease.

Dere is Joy again in Joysey!
Let exultations be truly noisy!

Dick and Theresa Santor
a little footnote from the Adirondack foothills

Dick and Theresa are moving back to Plattsburgh.
Perhaps they found the mountain lakes too Placid.

Mike Mooney and his keyboard

Back at the center, the old kook
Who sits here in this writing nook,
Laptop flickering 'gainst his glazed look
Of absent concentration, took
A leap this year, put out a book
Of lyrics. Doubt they're worth a look.

a christmas wish for all

Hey, no pressure!
This holiday season,
Expect heaps of pleasure,
Warmth of greetings,
Loving letters,
Convivial family meetings,
A fantasia of greed,
Complete with shopping mall receipts,
Conversation that truly meets your needs,
Also gratifications gastronomical,
And at prices not too astronomical.


A hint, stock up on red wine.

If you're feeling blue.
Have a glass of red,
Pretend to read,
Slink off to bed,
Pretend to read again,
Then pass out.
Hey, pretend you're dead.
Maybe someone
Will be concerned.
When you get back up
Watch the football game,
Or what's left of it.

You'll have something to discuss the next day.

Thursday, December 14, 2006

A Meditation Upon Jeanne Ruid

the retirement of a mental health colleague

Jeannie, we hardly knew ye.
Now, upon the New Year,
We'll have to do without ye.
Focusing relentlessly on service
With dedicated selflessness,
We'll, in spirit, still have you with us.
Now that you're off scot free,
Having separation hilarity,
Amid your grins, ha has, tee hees,
Please say a prayer for us
And our anxieties.
Upon you we'll meditate.
Thus we'll have some serenity.
We'll be calmer, soon and late,
As we contemplate your Buddha's smile,
Its quiet modesty.

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