Tuesday, June 19, 2018

Looking back to 1962

In 1987, a quarter-century after the Seattle's World's Fair (Century-21), our local newspaper put out a call to its readers. "Send us your memories of the world's fair," it requested, "and we will publish the best/most memorable ones."

Even in those twenty-five years later, Jay and I still distinctly remembered an experience we had as newlyweds attending the 1962 Fair. We we were pretty sure it was unique to us. And we were pretty adhament in our hopes that it hadn't happened to anyone else.

"Should I write it up?" I asked him.  He laughed and nodded positively, so I began. Before I knew it, the memory was turning into a rhyming poem--and the next day, I mailed it to the Times (before Internet submissions). Not surprisingly, it did not warrant a place in the final picks to be published (I think 21 pieces were selected).

Recently I came across the poem in some of my archived writing. It's certainly not a great poem, but it's a great anecdote. You'll know why we never forgot it when you read the poem. It made me laugh, and I hope it does the same for you,too.

Century-21
It’s a beautiful day
Not a cloud in the sky.
So off to the fair
Go my husband and I.

We check out Flaminco
at the Spanish pavilion,
sip Chilean wine
and dance a cotillion.

Then it’s on to Bugaku
with actors reclusive,
imported for fair-goers—
its patrons exclusive.

No trip to the fair
is complete without rides—
carousel, centrifuge, and
cable-car glides

Last not but least
is the Ferris wheel trip.
We have saved it for last
to see setting sun dip.

We are feeling fulfilled
as we’re scooped up in air,
but suddenly raindrops
start to fall in my hair.

I say to my husband,
“Wait! How can it be?
Not a cloud in the sky
but it’s raining on me?”

“No, it isn’t,” he says
and points up above.
“Someone is losing her
cookies, my love.”

That is the reason,
needless to say,
we avoid Ferris wheels
to this very today.

Sunday, June 3, 2018

When the cut flowers and the onion start talking . . .

For those of you who read my blog on your cell phones or ipads, this post will appear completely nonsensical unless you also read the captions for the photos. They do not display simultaneously on the iphone/ipad format.
I was sitting on the living table and no one
seemed to notice. All of a sudden,
I knew what to do.

I know what you mean. I was sitting around
 waiting  forever for her to make spaghetti,
and I just couldn't wait any longer.
Good job! You made her look!
Keep going . . . maybe she'll
 learn how precious our time together is!
 And a postscript on June 7:  Who would
have thought flowers were copycats! 


The following week . . . it happened again!