The Academy Awards

Perhaps it’s simply getting old
Or else I’m feeling jaded,
But somehow the allure of Oscar night
To me has faded.

Of course I watched it anyhow
As they gave each award,
But somewhere in the middle, I thought,
Hey – I’m really bored!

The gowns were elegant and sleek;
The jewelry was lush.
All Hollywood was on display;
It’s fun to gawk and gush.

But all was so predictable –
The winners and the speeches.
Decorum ruled with just one curse –
The tiniest of breaches.

The hosts were young, in hopes I guess,
Of luring younger viewers;
But I’d be quite surprised if youth
Were not among pooh-poohers.

I stayed up ‘til the end, despite
The way I seem to sneer;
And though I criticize, I’m sure
I’ll watch again next year.

Maybe Spring

Temps are in the fifties;
Crocuses poke through.
Baseball teams are playing;
Spring is making its debut.

Although it’s kind of early
And it just may be a tease,
Winter coats are being shed
In varying degrees.

Some stay in the closet,
Switched with denim or with suede;
Others get unzipped, the date
Too early to persuade.

But whether spring is really here
Or this is just a taste,
It’s wonderful to soak it up
Before it goes to waste.

A Matter of Taste

Some like Pepsi, some like Coke;
Who knows which is best?
Colgate works for many folks –
But for me, it’s Crest.

Loyal drivers stick to Fords,
Toyotas, Subarus,
Kias, Hondas, Chevy vans –
It’s strange how people choose.

Burger King or Mickey D’s?
Add Wendy’s to the mix;
Fast food places leave me cold,
But people love their picks.

T-Mobile or Verizon?
Or perhaps AT & T?
I-Phone? Droid or BlackBerry?
Which one is right for me?

Most everything in life these days
Requires a decision;
And just to prove my choice is right,
I’ll view yours with derision.

Unless, of course, they’re both the same;
In that case, we agree
That we are more discerning than
The vast majority.

Though taste is very personal,
Most people truly feel
That all their choices, more than yours,
Conform to the ideal.

Tenure

I was a working tenured teacher
Most of my career.
Now tenure’s on the chopping block;
The union’s made that clear.

Of course, some teachers aren’t good
And some don’t even try,
Yet getting rid of tenured ones
Is wrong, and this is why:

City workers all deserve
Some kind of guarantee
That competence at what they do
Will grant security.

It cannot happen overnight –
The newcomers must wait.
It may take several years to prove
They really are first-rate.

And only then will they have earned
The right to there remain,
Protected by the power
That their contract lets them gain.

If layoffs have to happen,
Newer teachers have to go.
A principal can’t give
The higher-paid ones the heave-ho.

A teacher who’s incompetent
Should not have been allowed,
By weak administrators,
To blend with the tenure crowd.

For those who slipped on through,
Give them encouragement and aid.
Don’t change the rules and let them feel
That they have been betrayed.

If future tenure is in doubt,
New teachers can prepare;
But bouncing those within its shelter
Really is unfair.

P.S. I miss the way things were
When I was newly hired.
The more I read the more I am
So glad to be retired!

A Minute

You eat, you drink, you sleep, you poop
And then it’s time to fly the coop.
Life is over in a minute;
The world goes on, without you in it.

Thus, before you do depart,
Milk every moment from your heart.
No need to pay a finder’s fee
Or labor on your legacy.

Just focus on the here and now –
It’s all you can do, anyhow.
Today you’re here, enjoy its spark –
Tomorrow is a question mark.

Liquidation

There’s something sad about a sale
Because a store is closing.
The shoppers look like hunting dogs
Whose prey they’re bent on nosing.

People pick up bargains
That they may not really need.
Discount prices lure folks in –
There’s almost a stampede.

It’s psychological, the way
The mind acts when enticed:
It gives one the okay to purchase
Items overpriced.

As long as what’s procured is less
Than what you’d likely pay;
It’s just too good a deal so you
Can’t let it slip away.

And as you leave the store, you know
You’ve spent more than you should’ve
By buying things, without a sale,
You never ever would’ve.

A closing store makes me feel glum –
That’s part of my lament;
I’m sorry for the store and for
The money I just spent!

Beyond the Pale

When you live in the city,
There are many, many joys;
But as apartment dwellers,
You are subject to some noise.

If you live on an avenue,
You hear the buses pass;
And car alarms and sirens
Spew eruptions to harass.

I live next to the garbage chute,
So often I hear banging;
And steam inside the pipes creates
A symphony of clanging.

Today, though, there was something new –
A constant chirping beep.
It’s been non-stop and I suspect
Tonight I will not sleep.

Perhaps a neighbor set her clock
And left before it rang;
Or else the smoke detector
Chose this moment to harangue.

Whatever is the culprit,
My complaining is in vain.
The only thing I’m sure of
Is it’s driving me insane!

Socks

I like my socks in patterns –
In stripes or dots or checks.
I also like more solid ones
With colors splashed as flecks.

No matter if an outfit is
Too dull to even mention,
A pair of perky socks can be
Deserving of attention.

They subtly peek out from one’s pants,
Sometimes for just an inch.
That may be quite enough
To lift one’s mood, in just a pinch.

I glance at other people’s feet
But rarely do I see
A funky patterned pair of socks
In my vicinity.

But when I do, especially
In weather drab and gray,
The jauntiness of someone’s socks
Can brighten up my day.

I hope my socks can do the same
And make somebody smile;
Regardless, I’ll keep wearing them –
Who cares if they’re in style?

Vicks VapoRub

If you are of a certain age,
You’re probably in the club
Whose members all remember
Getting rubbed with VapoRub.

When you were home and sick in bed
And riddled with congestion,
Vicks VapoRub was de rigueur;
There wasn’t any question.

Your mother screwed the lid off
From a jar I’m sure was blue;
That menthol smell came charging out,
Invading through and through.

She next dipped all her fingers in
And scooped a healthy hunk.
She smeared it on your chest and, oh,
The odor stink, stank, stunk!

Supposedly it helped you breathe
And cleared your throat and sinus;
Medicinally, that’s a plus –
The smell, though, was a minus!

My memories of VapoRub
For years have been on hold,
But suddenly they’re back
Because my husband has a cold.

I wonder if the Vicks would help –
Not really, I suspect;
But someone’s loving touch, I’d think,
Would have the same effect.

Closing Borders

Listen to the death knell
Of the local book purveyor.
To see this coming, one need not
Have heard from a soothsayer.

The writing wasn’t in the books,
But it was on the wall;
Once electronics staked its claim,
Bound books were bound to fall.

Yet when I heard of the demise
Of Borders in Manhattan,
I felt like quoting, “Et tu, Brute?”
(“You screwed us,” but in Latin.)

For everyone shops Borders
For their books, cards and CD’s,
Calendars and gifty things –
All guaranteed to please.

Their coupons promised bargains,
Making me a loyal buyer.
Enough of us exist
To sing their praises in a choir!

But still, alas, their doors will close,
Those coupons flown to heaven;
Another victim of the times
To file Chapter 11.

Ah, Borders, I will miss you so.
Your closing’s such a loss.
I’ll really have to go abroad
For Borders I can cross!

Science Fairs

Eliminating science fairs
Is lately in the news.
As one who suffered through them,
It is time to share my views.

When I went to school, we all took part –
There was no choice.
If science was your thing,
You had good reason to rejoice.

But if your inclinations lay
In English, gym or art,
Your science project weighed you down;
You knew not where to start.

The science geeks made lava flow
Or incubated eggs.
Their projects were crème de la crème,
While mine resembled dregs.

Encouragement of science
Is a good and noble deed,
But some of us just didn’t have
The brain part that we’d need.

So now that science fairs will be
A remnant of the past,
I say – good riddance for us all
Whose projects came in last!

Leftover Snow

A few tenacious mounds of snow
Will not let their existence go.
They cling to life, despite the warnings;
They won’t last too many mornings.

Tinged with blackened soot, they seem
To not project much self-esteem;
And as the temperatures do rise
They dwindle, both in scope and size.

Their stubbornness must be admired.
In this world, it’s what’s required
To survive when Nature’s notions
Wipe us out, despite devotions.

Very soon those mounds will melt
From the blow the weather’s dealt.
If they could, I’m sure they’d dread it;
Still, I give those suckers credit!

Polio Vaccine

I’m reading a novel and people are dying –
Polio is the disease.
Before the vaccine, no one knew what to blame –
Dirty hands, rotten food or a sneeze.

Back when I was a kid, we were herded, in camp,
To a central place for an injection.
We waited in line and each child left in tears;
I was smart and I made the connection.

So I kept moving back to the end of the line,
Hoping maybe they’d run out of shots;
And as more and more children arrived, I slipped back
As I gallantly gave up my spots.

But the one thing I noticed, was as they came out,
Every child clutched a prize in his hand –
A lollipop better than any I’d seen,
With a farm tool to hold in your hand.

There were shovels and hoes, there were realistic rakes.
They were yellow, red, orange and blue;
And when my turn came up, I consoled myself ‘cause
My reward waited when I was through.

But the irony was, since I’d waited so long,
Letting everyone else go ahead,
After I got my shot, all those lollies were gone –
And they gave me a plain one instead.

How I cried for the utter injustice I felt!
The pain hardly mattered at all;
But the anger I aimed at myself and the world
Is the one thing I clearly recall.

We were lucky to get that vaccine way back then,
For it put polio in its place;
But my memory reminds me that cleverness may
Sometimes backfire right into our face!

The Dog Show

The dog show dogs were on TV.
They pranced before each judge;
And once I started watching,
I was not about to budge.

I stared in fascination
As each dog, so proud, paraded
To show off all their qualities
Before the experts graded.

Some breeds I never heard of
Couldn’t wait to strut their stuff;
They soaked up admiration
Like they couldn’t get enough.

Their trainers trotted by their sides,
Some barely keeping pace;
And every one appeared to think
His dog deserved first place.

The spectators, like me, enjoyed
The pageant and the sport.
Both canine types and humans
Had the audience support.

The winners got the glory
And a photo op to boot,
But win or lose, each specimen
Was just so doggone cute!

Valentine Bouquet

See the line for flowers now –
It’s stretching down the block.
Get your Valentine bouquet –
Time’s ticking on the clock.

Every male for miles around
Stands sheepishly on line,
Hoping for some true romance
With candlesticks and wine.

As I pass I wonder
If today’s their only splurge,
Or do urges to buy roses
On some other days emerge?

I hope each flower buyer
Has his fantasies fulfilled
And that his Valentine will be
Appropriately thrilled.

Artifacts

Sometimes in museums
There is so much more than art –
Remnants of somebody’s past
From when he got his start.

The famed Apollo Theater -
For performers, Harlem’s haven,
Is currently the focus
Of a show that’s got folks ravin’.

From Louis Armstrong’s trumpet
To Pearl Bailey’s wardrobe case,
The artifacts remind us
Of a certain time and place.

My daughter was delighted
To see Michael Jackson’s hat.
It made me think of Cooperstown
And seeing Mickey’s bat.

Of all the items, there was one
That set my thoughts to muse:
A beat-up pair of Sammy Davis Junior’s
Tap-dance shoes.

He’d worn them as a little child,
A boy eight years of age.
When most kids did their homework,
He was hoofing on the stage.

I wasn’t born when he was young.
I knew him as a man;
Yet there was proof of who he was
When his career began.

He’s gone so many years by now
But still his shoes survive.
Museums do their part
To keep the memory alive.

"The Wizard of Oz"

When I was a kid, just one time every year,
We were glued to the family TV,
For “The Wizard of Oz” was the show being shown
And we loved it, my brothers and me.

Who couldn’t not love it – the scarecrow who just
Would trade all that he had for a brain?
And the tin man, forlorn, who so needed a heart
That he’d track a false promise in vain.

For the cowardly lion, we all felt a pang
‘Cause he, most of all, sure did “desoive”
The knowledge that he was so capable of
Being someone who did have the “noive.”

My daughter just happened to turn the TV
To “The Wizard of Oz” – a surprise;
And I quoted the lines that dear Dorothy said,
Which my brain, sometime, did memorize.

And it brought it all back, the whole childhood routine –
Me, my brothers, my folks and our lives;
Just a statement I quoted with Dorothy Gale
And my youth, what a marvel, survives.

Do children today have that same déjà vu?
They own movies they watch end on end.
I prefer what we had, for our limited views
Made reality really suspend.

Current Events

My husband’s glued to the TV –
Mubarak has resigned.
It’s strange to watch as history
Is being redesigned.

The world is in an uproar –
Democracy will rule.
It never happened quite this way,
From what I learned in school.

Egyptians made their feelings known;
Their government reacted.
Nobody really knows how
People’s lives will be impacted.

So many questions swirling ‘round,
Who knows what happens next?
But we’ll remain updated
By computer, tweet or text.

Bread

I could really not survive
On a diet without bread.
If I had to ditch some foods,
I’d choose other ones instead.

From a dense and chewy bagel
To a hunk of sourdough,
I get pleasure from each bite
As I chew it, nice and slow.

I prefer a crusty crust
But enjoy a garlic knot;
And if seeds are in the mix,
It will really hit the spot.

Pumpernickel, wheat or rye,
Challah, rolls or a baguette –
If I eat an extra piece,
It’s not something I’ll regret.

Man can’t live by bread alone
Is an adage people utter;
But that isn’t true for me –
Just as long as I have butter!

Presumed Guilty

On the new Select Bus,
You buy your ticket first.
Machines out on the street
Are where the tickets are disbursed.

There isn’t a conductor there
To see if you have paid.
I made a dumb assumption
That of course all folks obeyed.

Today I saw that theory,
Like old flowers, go all wilty,
When I realized the authorities
Presumed we all were guilty.

‘Cause as I went to exit,
Someone stood right in my path.
He was an MTA guy
Who demanded, spewing wrath,

“I need to see your ticket!”
It was said like a command.
I smoothed it out from where it was,
All crumpled in my hand.

He glanced at it and let me go
And I just felt confused.
I’d done exactly nothing wrong
And yet I felt accused.

Perhaps the honor system
Has some losers who abuse it;
But treating me like one of them
Can really make me lose it!

Discarded

Since Christmas ended weeks ago,
We’re left with just receipts
And lots of cast-off Christmas trees,
Abandoned in the streets.

I wonder why they’re still around.
It makes me contemplate –
Do people hate to let them go,
Or just procrastinate?

Their needles must be brittle,
Shedding everywhere you step;
But maybe folks hold on to them
‘Cause they’re a pain to schlep.

Once at the curb, they pile up
Looking lonely and forlorn.
The passersby ignore them
Or regard them with some scorn.

How long until they disappear’s
A question that I pose;
But since I saw a pumpkin, too,
The answer is – who knows?

Fate Accompli

Thirty-six years ago,
On this very date,
I met my husband, and for me,
The credit goes to fate.

My spouse does not believe
That things are ever meant to be.
It just was purely luck, he’d say,
The night that he met me.

But we met at a social
That I’d tried the week before.
I’d gotten there too late
And I could not get past the door.

Imagine if I had:
I might have met another guy;
But destiny made sure
With all its plans I would comply.

So I went home that week before
And vowed I would return.
I got there nice and early
And met Mel, so live and learn.

The rest is history, and so
Today we celebrate
The day we met, which I’m convinced
Was set in place by fate.

From Scratch

I haven’t baked a cake from scratch
In many many moons;
But something put me in the mood
For measuring cups and spoons.

A recipe had caught my eye
And company’s expected;
So I made sure to gather
The ingredients I’d collected.

I measured, chopped and mixed and stirred;
I greased and then pre-heated.
I followed the directions to a T
And never cheated.

I set the timer – when it rang
The toothpick came out clean.
The cake, once cooled, got drizzled icing
For a lovely sheen.

It looked quite perfect on the plate
But when I had a taste,
I realized all my hours of work
Had really gone to waste.

I could have bought a better cake
Right at the local store.
I’m sure my friends will sample mine
But will not ask for more.

I don’t regret the effort, though;
My baking urge was itchin’.
Next time creative juices flow,
I’ll stay out of the kitchen!

Reviews

Saw a play the other day –
It was a thought provoker.
Though I really liked it,
Critics called it “mediocre.”

Other times, the flip side’s true –
Some shows I’ve really hated
Accrued such rave reviews
Their mass appeal was not debated.

It’s better, when you’re theater-bound,
To let your instincts pick it;
And not be swayed by smug critiques
Before you buy your ticket.

For when you’re sitting in your seat,
Not knowing what’s in store,
You’ll form your own opinion
Unlike what’s been said before.

And then the ball is in your court,
To share your thoughts or not;
Friends may not agree with you
‘Bout acting skills or plot.

I give and take each play review
With just a grain of salt,
‘Cause differences in what we like
Are never someone’s fault.

Trader Joe's

It isn’t in my neighborhood
Or else, I do suppose,
I’d never let a day pass
And not visit Trader Joe’s.

The staff is oh-so friendly;
The prices, pretty great.
The shelves are stocked with certain things
To which I gravitate:

Their chocolate covered almonds,
Biscotti, cakes and tartes.
When they run out of dunkers,
Well, they break a lot of hearts.

Their hummus is the best around.
Their coffee’s aromatic;
And when their line’s not out the door,
I must approach ecstatic.

When I am near a Trader Joe’s,
My craving’s not denied.
I only wish they’d open one
For me, on the east side!

Vacation Plans

Everyone’s vacation plans
Are different from yours.
Some folks like to take a cruise;
Others prefer tours.

There are those who like to be
On islands so remote,
They have to carry their supplies,
A week’s worth, on a boat.

Many people like adventure:
Parachutes and skis;
Rafting, climbing, bungee jumps –
No safety guarantees.

On vacation, some folks camp;
Some like five-star hotels.
What works for others, may for you,
Be something that repels.

To plan a trip, do not consult
Your family or a friend.
What’s magical to you might not
Be what they’d recommend.

Admire their pictures, read their blogs,
But keep one thing in mind –
We all do better following
A trip that we’ve designed.

So off we’ll go to get away
To our own paradise;
And when we show our pictures off,
Our friends will say, “How nice!”

Another Groundhog Day

Another Groundhog Day today,
And this time we’re in luck:
There seemed to be agreement
Between groundhogs Phil and Chuck.

They both did venture out to see
If shadows lay in waiting.
A crowd of news photographers
Was there, anticipating.

But shadows were nowhere in sight,
And that’s a welcome thing.
It lets us know that pretty soon
We’ll have an early spring.

We’d hoped for that prediction;
There’s no way for them to fake it.
Of course, it’s just an old wives’ tale,
But this year, we will take it!

Egypt

I’ve never been to Egypt,
And haven’t seen the Sphinx;
The odds of getting to that site
Are nil, the more one thinks.

Americans are streaming out –
Who needs another riot?
And Israel hasn’t said a thing;
Their governments’s gone quiet.

I’m not politically inclined –
The details I’ve not tracked;
But if you turn the TV on,
You can’t help but react.

It’s frightening to watch and see
A government unwinding.
It’s happened many times before
And we don’t need reminding.

But since technology is king,
We get a front-row seat
To watch the goings-on,
Although the facts are incomplete.

The repercussions of this fight
Will impact history;
But most of us will turn the dial
Because it’s time for “Glee.”