Category: Stuff Larry Sez

He really deserves his own blog, but I don’t see it happing.

A penny for your prayer

Posted on by Meryl in Poetry, Stuff Larry Sez

I really try to ignore the political scene. It’s just too depressing, and like the changing of time for Daylight Savings and back, feels totally outside my control. But after reading today about prayer breakfasts on Capitol Hill, I felt moved to compose this:

Prayer’s a very private thing—
a scouring of the soul, a reckoning,
a probing of just what is meant,
a clarifying of intent.
And anyone I’ve seen to pray
in any kind of public way
who makes a show of piety,
advertises their propriety,
shows up, on examination
to be a card-carrying member
of the hypocrite nation.

Larry, on reading it, shrugged and said “too unsubtle,” and came up with a pithier, more succinct version:

If it’s public it ain’t a prayer.

It’s bon mots like this that keep those gourmet meals coming.

In the same NY Times article, they referenced David Orr’s selection of poems to assign to Congress. Here are two I’d choose:

Sailing to Byzantium by Wm. Yeats

Cantatrice by John Berryman.  As I can’t find this online, here it is, Dream Song #233

Misunderstanding. Misunderstanding, misunderstanding.
Are we stationed here among another thing?
Sometimes I wonder.
After the lightning, this afternoon, came thunder:
the natural world makes sense: cats hate water
and love fish.

Fish, plankton, bats’ radar, the sense of fish
who glide up the coast of South America
and head for Gibraltar.
How do they know it’s there? We call this instinct
by which we dream we know what instinct is,
like misunderstanding.

I was soft on a green girl once and we smiled across
and married, childed. Never did we truly take in
one burning wing.
Henry flounders. What is the name of that fish?
So better organized than we are oh.
Sing to me that name, enchanter, sing!

*                    *                *

How about that for a prayer?

Fran Landesman

Posted on by Meryl in Stuff Larry Sez

Today, Larry passed me Fran Landesman’s obit. Born in 1927, she knew Kerouac and Ginsberg, and Lenny Bruce once asked her to leave her husband and run off with him, saying: “Let’s you and me go on the road and send him a little money every month.” But my favorite part was how she took the line “April is the cruelest month,” from “The Wasteland” and turned it into the jazz standard “Spring Can Really Hang You Up the Most.”

Bibliophiles

Posted on by Meryl in Stuff Larry Sez

One of Larry’s avocations is collecting and selling first editions of 20th century poetry and fiction. He owns a first edition of A.E. Housman’s Last Poems. Researching this on ABE, he found the following information in the book’s description by Grant Richards Ltd.

“Housman was fastidious about punctuation & was annoyed by the omission of punctuation marks in the first two lines of the poem on p. 52. However, when the publisher offered to insert an errata slip in the remaining copies, Housman replied: No, don’t put in an errata slip. The blunder will probably enhance the value of the 1st edition in the eyes of bibliophiles, an idiotic class.”

And so Larry’s copy with its two missing commas is enhanced. Or should I say, “And so Larry’s copy, with its two missing commas, is enhanced.”?

Family contributions

Posted on by Meryl in Food, Stuff Larry Sez

Larry is reading a Baseball book by Jim Bouton called Ball Four. He paraphrased a story in it for me today.  This is from the 70’s when the publicity department sent out a form with questions for the players. One was, “What is the most difficult thing about playing major-league baseball?” A player named Mike Hegan responded, “Explaining to your wife why she needs a penicillin shot for your kidney infection.”

That seems in a league with Bob Hass’ haiku-ish couplet:

Spit straight up
learn something.

Yesterday was the DVD launch party for my son’s movie, Blank Slate, a truly independent feature. Now it’s headed for festival submission–hope you get a chance to see it. As there were several vegans in attendance I made the pea soup with the last of the peas from the garden and a dip recipe from a cookbook my daughter’s friend put together for a wedding present. The dip was a big hit with omnivores as well as vegans:

Cowboy Caviar

1 (15 0z) can Black-eyed peas, drained
1 (11 oz) can white Shoepeg corn, drained (I just used plain white corn)
2 avocados diced
2/3 C chopped tomato
2/3 C chopped cilantro

Dressing:
1/4 C good olive oil
1/4 C red wine vinegar
2 cloves garlic, pressed
1/2-1 tsp cumin (I used 1 tsp freshly ground)
salt and peper to taste

Combine dressing and mix into other ingredients. Serve with scoop-style chips. Makes a good sized bowl full.  Can double the recipe if desired.

 

Breakfast chez moi

Posted on by Meryl in Stuff Larry Sez

This morning: sauteed onions, thai basil, garlic chives, and tarragon with baby kale (all from the garden) topped with softly steamed eggs. I sauteed the onions first in coconut ghee, added the herbs and kale, broke the eggs on top and covered them just till they set. No photo, we ate it all up before I could think of getting out the camera.

The garden takes breakfast to a new level. The ghee is an allegedly health-enhancing alternative to olive oil that I use from time to time. I bought a gallon of it a year ago and have about a pint left. It has a distinctly sweet flavor. Great for roasting vegetables, too.

I was meandering through a hefty volume of Zbigniew Herbert’s prose over breakfast. One of my favorite poets, his prose is savory and acerbic. A short sample I read aloud from “The Poet and the Present”: History does not know a single example of art or an artist anywhere ever exerting a direct influence on the world’s destiny–and from this sad truth follows the conclusion that we should be modest, conscious of our limited role and strength. Yes. More modesty, artists!

Then Larry read the beginning of a book review to me: At some point in the mid-1990’s academic authors in the humanities began to use the verb “complicate” when they didn’t have anything useful to say. They were always talking about how some new consideration or alleged insight “complicates” our understanding of this or that. “Such a view of early Victorian culture,” they’d say, “complicates our understanding of Tennyson’s metrical romances.” Well all right, one thought, but could we get to the part where you uncomplicate it? But they never did.

The review contained that wonderful line of Mary McCarthy’s about Lillian Helman’s memoir, Pentimento: Every word she writes is a lie, including ‘and’ and ‘the.’ Great line, though I remember enjoying the book thoroughly.

Then I practiced piano for a bit while Larry went on reading the paper. Me to Larry: “Practicing piano yields such direct results. Practicing poetry not so much.”

Larry: “That’s because with poetry you’re always starting over.”

Too true.

Economics and balls

Posted on by Meryl in Stuff Larry Sez

From Larry, via an old fraternity brother.
The sport of choice in the inner city is BASKETBALL.
The sport of choice for blue-collar workers is FOOTBALL.
The sport of choice for white collar workers is BASEBALL.
The sport of choice for middle management is TENNIS.
The sport of choice for corporate executives and officers is GOLF.

Which leads to this conclusion: The higher you go in the power structure, the smaller your balls become.
There must be a ton of people in Washington playing marbles.


 

Larry and The Creakers

Posted on by Meryl in Stuff Larry Sez

Larry belongs to an over 65 softball league, called The Creakers. They play every week, have a website, and a lot of fun.  Here’s a typical email exchange:

Fred:   I have a watch that was found in the parking lot adjacent to HF 3/4. Describe it and it is yours.

Larry: It was a gold Rolex with an inscription that said, “I’ll love you madly forever.   Lolita”

Fred: Close.