All posts by Jim

Old Haunts

A Pocket of Resistance

Back in my old home town,
i passed an old haunt of mine;
went there most evenings
when i had nothing to do;
it was shuttered;
plywood covered the windows,
windows out of which i peered,
saw a ten-point buck
in the side yard one night
i parked in the weeds overtaking the lot
in the back and walked through knee-high grass
to the un-boarded main entrance;
peering in, i saw dust and cobwebs,
pieces of furniture strewn about,
the shuffleboard table gone;
i turned toward the road:
cars and pickups hurdling past
on the four-lane road
rather than the occasional pickup,
which back then, didn’t hurdle anywhere,
that passed on the two-lane road
when i lingered here;
a sign by the door
announced it would be soon torn down
to make way with a strip mall,
anchored by a convenience store,
including a cleaners, a franchised burger place,
a liquor store, a hair salon, and several more.
i returned to my car;
sitting there for a moment.

i realized that old haunt of mine
was a lot like me, a lot like me:
we were dilapidated, past our time,
lost in a world that passed us by;
i had a lot of dust on eighty years,
cobwebs of memories in my head,
not much more;
my world is filled with weeds,
not manicured lawns,
certainly not fake lawns;
i will be replaced by folks
glued to their phones,
buying the latest fad,
hurdling by in their electric automobiles,
ignoring the past.

that old haunt doesn’t fit in today:
it was too comfortable for today;
not much plastic, only a juke box
in the corner playing country called oldies;
i am comfortable but
certainly not plastic,
playing a lot of oldies,
waiting to be replaced by convenience.

A Tale of the Sea and Me: One Last Reminder

Sea Stories

After seven days, Anchorage and the host of other ships weighed anchor off of Vung Tau and got underway in early May 1975. Nearly all, if not all, headed toward Subic Bay and then on to other liberty ports.

i believe all except Anchorage had refugees on board. While off of Vietnam, we were ordered to pick up two additional LCM8’s that had been used by the South Vietnamese before the fall. Although we were already crammed, we somehow managed to add these two 73-feet long, 21-feet wide landing craft. i don’t know how but we did it. i can only remember we turned a lot of craft and other vehicles at angles in the well deck, fitting them like a jigsaw puzzle. i do remember the Mike 8 boats sitting cockeyed at the aft end of the well deck.

The requirement to offload these two craft in Subic is likely the only reason we went to Subic Bay. Perhaps for that reason, Anchorage was independently steaming, not accompanying other ships. i was OOD on the mid-watch (00-04) on the first night, roughly 150 nautical miles into the transit. There were no contacts and the seas were comfortable.

Around 0200, we began receiving strange radio messages from another ship: “This is Clara Maersk, radio check, radio check.” As the calls kept repeating and getting a bit stronger, i decided to respond.

“Clara Maersk, this is United States Navy ship, Anchorage, roger, over.

She responded. The master was trying to reach any US Navy ship. The Clara Maersk had come upon a ship sinking in the South China Sea en route to Hong Kong. She rescued 2000 refugees and was attempting to find a ship that could take them aboard.

The Clara Maersk was likely several hundred miles from Anchorage. i did not know and was attempting to maintain communication while determining what do do — including waking the captain — when our communications was lost..

Once again, i felt remorse at our country not being able to do more to allow this folks to remain in their homeland.

Anchorage continued on her way to Subic. i wrote a note to myself with the ship’s name and carried on. After all, i had a whole bunch of other things on my mind.

NOTE: GWLO, Old Hong Kong, https://gwulo.com/node/57141, contains an article about the Clara Maersk offloading 2000 Vietnamese refugees in Hong Kong shortly after my communications with the master of the cargo ship. i was checking my facts when i came across the article. i am glad i found out Clara Maersk and her refugees made it to Hong Kong.

The Oxymoronic Cinemascopic Chocolate Covered Boysenberry Bitter Lemon Sweet Dream

A Pocket of Resistance

i wrote this over several days past. i do not know if i have finished it or not or if it will end up in the round file. It is one of my few attempts to create something in the “farcical” genre of writing. i just wanted to share it this morning.

Romulus Stevenson saw the light. The light was a gleam over the horizon, nothing more. He heard the muffled boom, boom, boom. He could not discern from whence it came. He laughed into the wind and wondered how his horse was doing on the farm now surrounded by housing developments.

Moby Dick was not a whale of a lot better off. He waited with Romulus and the wolf beside him (or was he a wolf, too?) as the sun hid below the horizon but near enough to see the horizon and shoot a falling star with the sextant old Romy’s mama had given him for his first birthday, along with the horse, of course.

From deep in the woods came the observation from Midnight the Cat that it was “Nice” in the falsetto voice while someone, perhaps Andy, demanded in a deep bass voice of Froggy (in the pond, of course) “Plunk your magic twanger, Froggy,” which he did, and in his deep gravelly voice would emit the salutation, “Hi ‘ya, kids, hi ‘ya!” Or was that Andy Devine on the horse he rode in on with Wild Bill Hickok, and Andy was Jingles, and just exactly who was the side kick? Or was it Red Ryder’s Little Beaver who outshone Jay Silverheels who was more to like Tonto than Johnny Depp, and Clayton Moore showed who actually wore that mask and shot with the silver bullet. Or was that a train?

And was Phineas T. Bluster really Spiro Agnew hiding as a puppet. Now he would be a pocket of sanity in politics compared to the 21st Century, but no in these woods where a ship lies off the coast and Romulus wonders about the light just beyond the horizon he can’t see. The horse surrounded by newly sprung ticky-tacky houses all in rows, neighed in sadness. The boom, boom, boom was another war to wipe out people, not countries, or fireworks to celebrate something that needed some respect from those who did not see the falling star like Moby, Romulus, and wolf saw before they shot it with a sextant.

Andy’s gang lived in reruns if one could find them along with Roy and Trigger and Bullet, Dale, and of course Nelly Belle without Pat Buttram who had run away with Gene and Champion while the many masks of the Lone Ranger rode away with only one and it was Jay Silverheels’ Tonto whom he had met in The Philosopher’s Club in San Franciso.

If only it was just a dream…