Inspiration to write oftentimes comes from the strangest places. A few nights ago at a business dinner, probably after a few too many wines and other spirits were absorbed by all, the topic of discussion turned to how wordy and unwieldy business contracts written by corporate attorneys tended to be. Someone commented that poets should perhaps be employed to shorten up and concentrate the language, which of course led to the amusing thought of corporate attorneys attempting to write poetry in return. Thus was born the idea of this post, shuffling careers and their professionals. As fair warning, I am neither attorney nor poet, so my apologies to both in my attempt to poke a little fun…
Here we find our recently unemployed corporate attorney writing a nice love sonnet:
How Do I Love Thee (with many apologies to Elizabeth Barrett Browning)
Whereas, the party of the first part (hereinafter referred to as “I”) intends to make the following declarations of unmitigated love, and,
Whereas, the party of the second part (hereinafter referred to as “thee”) accepts such declarations, subject to the following terms and conditions expressly put forth, and
Whereas, both parties agree such declarations and acceptances thereto are mutually beneficial for the purposes of a romantic relationship,
Now Therefore, both parties, thee and I, agree to the following expressions of love.
Article I. Declaration and Enumeration of Love
1.0 How do I love thee? Let me count the ways:
1.1 I love thee to the (i) depth, and (ii) breadth, and (iii) height my soul can reach, when feeling out of sight for the ends of being and ideal grace.
1.2 I love thee to the level of every day’s most quiet need, by (i) sun, and (ii) candle-light, and (iii) any such form of light that may hereinafter replace 1.2 (i) and 1.2 (ii) due to technological advances.
1.3 I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
1.3.a No compensation, expressed or implied, shall be made from this declaration.
1.4 I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
1.5 I love thee with the passion put to use in (i) my old griefs, and (ii) with my childhood’s faith.
1.6 I love thee with a love I seemed to lose with my lost saints.
1.7 I love thee with the (i) breath, (ii) smiles, (iii) tears of all my life; and,
1.8 If God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
1.8.a It is duly noted that being loved even better after death shall only apply in the case of a natural death, not one resulting from a deliberate act of of either party to cause such death upon the other.
Article II. Term, Enforcement, and Survivability
2.1 The terms of this declaration and agreement, as in all matters involving romantic love, is deemed to begin effective as of the date of duly notarized signatures appearing hereinafter and shall continue in perpetuity.
2.2 The terms and declarations herein are for the mutual benefit of the specific parties. This declaration cannot be assigned to any other party or lover without the express written consent of both parties.
2.3 No terms of this declaration can be altered unless in writing by formal amendment as agreed upon by both parties.
2.4 In the event of any dispute, the parties agree to a trial in the court of public opinion. Both parties agree to waive their right of privacy in such circumstance of a public declaration, and may be subject to the penalties of ridicule, smarmy attitudes, and possible FaceBook unfriending actions.
In Witness Whereof, the undersigned have caused this instrument to be executed and to be binding upon each as of the date herein.
There now – isn’t that romantic? I can almost hear the collective sighs, or is it groans I hear? As time permits, I’ll check in on our newly hired poet taking a stab a writing a lease in this series of shuffled careers.
Halloween is past, all the little trick or treat kiddies are now on a sugar buzz, probably driving their parents and teachers to the brink of madness, and most folks are tossing out all their Jack-O-Lanterns freshly carved up just a few days earlier. When I was a child, most pumpkins were either carved into the familiar spooky scary face, or maybe was made into a head as part of a scarecrow like person, clothes stuffed with hay. Lately though we seem to have become a bit more artistic with this annual interpretation of expression. Witness the following sightings floating around:
Apparently these pumpkins are not bashful about showing off their assets.
Yeah, the idea is to get into the spirit of Halloween, not let the spirits of Halloween get into you.
I’m speechless with this one. Never ceases to amaze me what folks can do with a simple knife, a few pumpkins and maybe a vegetable or two, and a wild imagination.
Come on now – you know you smiled. I just know you did.
I’ve been busy these past few days. Hurricane Sandy, or what the weather forecasters in full Armageddon mode are calling the Perfect Storm, part deux, is bearing down on the Atlantic States waiting to take a left turn and make landfall on a pathway pretty much where I live. I am far enough inland to be spared the Tidal brunt of the storm surge, but the forecasters are calling for very heavy precipitation as the storm stalls and intensifies, along with high gusting winds. Likely result – flooding and power failures with fallen trees.
As a result, most of the weekend was spent in preparation of the storm’s wrath. This is the height of falling leaves, and I cannot begin to estimate how many cubic yards of leaves were raked up and mulched. All the drains were given a good cleaning, and I also had some fun up two and a half stories on a ladder cleaning out the gutters. Anything not bolted down was brought into the garage. The generator was brought out of storage and tested – all systems go. Batteries all stocked up, lanterns ready to go, and plenty of candles as well, just in case. I made the mistake of running out to the grocery store to pick up a few items last minute – big mistake! The place looked like a throwback to the Soviet Union. I was amazed at the empty bread shelves, no milk to be found, and eggs all gone. No wonder folks need to stock up on toilet paper in large amounts! I left, for it wasn’t worth waiting an hour for coffee creamer. Black will do just fine in a pinch.
I decided to get out and take advantage of the early voting allowed in our precinct. Oh the irony! Early voting is supposed to eliminate long lines on election day. This is the first time I decided to vote early, and the result is the longest I’ve ever had to wait in line to complete the process – about an hour and a half. I suppose all the other fellow citizens were wondering how their vote might be counted if there are power failures now that the ballot is electronic. Got my vote in just in time. The early voting will be shut down for the next three days until Sandy blows over. The closure may last longer should there be a sustained power failure. Last year, Hurricane Irene caused outages that lasted almost two weeks in some areas of the State.
It’s now raining in the wee hours of Monday morning. By Tuesday morning, the storm will be making its pass overhead. Nothing left to do but sit back and take whatever Mother Nature decides to dish out. So here’s a little mood music to drift off to sleep by, courtesy of The Doors.
Stay dry everyone!
Apropos of our Music Passion game whose theme this month of September is “The Blues”, I managed to stumble upon a brilliant Freshly Pressed piece that is hilariously informative for all who have ever wanted to compose and sing the Blues. Pop on over to Tinman’s blog and see his irreverent tongue-in-cheek style that had me howling with laughter earlier today. Thanks Tinman for making me laugh! And thanks for the permission to reblog. I hope the added traffic from the tens of … er… tens of followers I have doesn’t crash your stats. OK folks, go on over and show the Tinman some love…
Sidey’s Weekend Theme is “blue”, so here is Tinman’s guide to one of the most famous of all music genres….
The first requirement of being a blues singer is that you woke up this morning. Of course, most of us did, but we don’t feel the need to complain about it. Your next problem could be anything – your woman could have left you (the Lovesick Blues) you could have a hangover from last night’s pub-crawl (the 12-Bar Blues) or you might be tired after the walk uphill home (the Hill Street Blues). This problem will form the second line of your song.
In case your audience don’t get it, the first and second lines are then sung again, before the verse ends with one line summing up just how bad the situation is. An example would be “Woke up this mornin’/Found ma woman gone/woke up this mornin’/found ma…
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After weeks of business travel, I am finally home to rest and recover. Well, except that Spring Break at my son’s college coincided with my arrival back home. I arrived home around 11:30 p.m., unpacked all my things, and thought I’d kick up my feet as I waited for my son to get home from his drive back from campus. He is spending his Spring Break flying out to Colorado to visit friends who live there, and since his college campus is three hours from the middle of nowhere um, rather isolated with regard to sizable airports, he booked his flight from a much larger Airport near our home. Yes, swing by the home to drop off his car and lure me into bringing him to airport at 0 Dark Hundred, official military time for long before the crack of dawn. Son arrived around 1 a.m. I was happy to see him – almost as happy as I was to turn in for the night.
I’ve forgotten how little sleep college kids actually need. He brought home a car full of laundry, which he then proceeded to do in the early hours so he would have a fresh cache of clothes. At the conclusion of the laundering, washer and dryer buzzers continually disrupting my sleep, Son awakens me at 4 a.m. to inform me his carry-on is torn, and might I have a have a carry-on he could use. What luck! I had no loaded weapons near my nightstand… er… I mean, I just unpacked my carry-on case a few hours ago. I walked into his room and noticed the enormous pile of clothes, all winter weight and bulky, since he is heading to the mountains, sitting atop the bed waiting to be shoehorned into my carry-on. I came to the conclusion that my carry-on must have been a really bad person in a former life to be subjected to this kind of punishment. I was intrigued to see how he could possibly fit all he intended to take into that little carry-on.
While the following video clip is not my son, it went something like this:
Half an hour later, in the wee hours of early morn, we arrived at the airport. He thanked me for the ride, I wished him a safe journey and a fun-filled week, and he asked me for money – again. All is well in my world.
It’s Mardi Gras once again. Fat Tuesday, the official finale in festive and inebriated manner of the Carnival season – one last day of reckless, wanton behavior before everyone gets all spiritual on Ash Wednesday, the official start of lenten abstinence. Yes, whoop it up one last time, and whoop it up good!
As a public service announcement, since so many of you may be imbibing in excess, I thought I’d pass along some helpful information dealing with the morning after. See, you may not remember much the following day, after a long night of whoop ass drinking and carousing er… festivities. When you do finally awaken from that drunken stupor and, if you believe you’ve gone to church to get your ashes, just make sure the markings look something like this:
And not like this:
Enjoy the festivities!
Strange times we live in for sure. Yesterday, a House Congressional Committee held a hearing on the President’s policy to ensure all women have access to contraceptive coverage with no co-pay. Who better of course to discuss the merits of women’s access to contraceptives than… well… men? Well, not only men, but men of the clergy.
Apparently there were a few women eager to testify why birth control is rather important to them, one of them a law student and another an executive at a Catholic Non-Profit organization, but doggone it, neither were members of the clergy. See, the point apparently was to have some politically motivated theater er… testimony regarding exemptions from contraceptive and reproductive insurance requirements based on religious and moral grounds. Nope, apparently women should have no say about this kind of coverage mandate to be included in health insurance.
In the interest of fairness and reciprocity, I believe there should be alternate hearings scheduled to hear testimony about insurance coverage mandates as they relate to men’s Erectile Dysfunction and the associated treatment of such with pharmaceuticals like Viagra and Cialis. And of course, who better qualified to testify as expert witnesses on such matters of men and their sexual proclivities than this fine group of ladies?
Have at it, everyone!