| || video, droll, muddle, trauma, all relative.
Image from the Internet.
The opening poem contains all the words (or variations of them) from today's Jumble.
Comments are welcomed!
Do not explicitly reveal any of the actual answer words until after closing time, but embedding them surreptitiously in comment sentences is encouraged.
10 comments:
FLN ~ Thanks, Misty & Wilbur, for your generous words on yesterday's verses.
I didn't intend to run on so long. You never really know where the muse will take you when you start out.
I was surprised myself to learn that Jack was a Harvard man. That happened only because I couldn't find another use for "Hasty" than their famous "Hasty Pudding" tradition.
But, yes, I believe I was moved to keep writing because the page seems so blank when others are not leaving a mark.
Misty is being a trouper, but we both miss you, Wilbur, the way you used to have a more regular presence. And Owen, too, it goes w/o saying.
Sandy may be watching. If so, it would be nice just to see her sign in. I'm afraid she may not feel appreciated because we have sometimes disagreed on a point--or two. But as she has said, we can agree to differ--something I think is to be valued in a blog like this.
I found today's jumble pretty easy, with a predictable solution.
I'll post a poem for today soon. I'll try to keep it short.
~ OMK
"Pain & Empathy--All Relative?"
My wife is a fan of AFV,
the amateur video show.
I'll watch it "over her shoulder" sometimes.
Some of the clips are droll.
But often the scenes are painful to view,
with crashes and mayhem, I fear.
The audience howls while clips are cut short
before the full trauma is clear.
To heal, I turn to YouTube and cuddle
with the film where those ducklings fell into trouble
down a sewer, then got saved from the puddle
by officers ready to resolve their muddle.
~ OMK
"Young Video Star"
Her son loved watching his video
full of things he didn't know,
like comedies that were droll
or how people bowl.
He learned how to muddle
through a technical puddle.
At night he'd watch trauma
in his comfy pajama.
This made him the star
of all his relative, by far.
I agree with Ol'Man Keith, please, please, come back, everybody.
We hope you're okay, Owen. And we miss you too, Wilbur.
And this blog is not the same without you, Sandy.
Please come back, everybody. It's lonely here without you.
So my television has gone out, posting a message "Sorry we're having some trouble. Please tighten your cable connections then restart your TV box, which can often fix common issues"). Didn't work, and after waiting and failing forever to get help from Cox last night, I phoned this morning at 8:30 and was blessed to have a woman answer the phone.
She couldn't help long distance and so had to schedule a technician to come to my house. Guess when he's coming? Yep, Sunday morning between 8 and 10am. Hope he doesn't mind seeing me in my pajamas.
I see comfy pajamas as a theme linking you with your poem's subject, Misty.
I hope you get your TV troubles solved with the tech guy's visit. If your able company is Cox, same as mine, you may find your trouble clearing up on its own.
I have seen those dispiriting posts on my screen too, asking me to re-start everything and screw things in more tightly. I just give it two minutes, or an hour, and when I turn it on again it seems to have forgotten the problem entirely.
I hope it is as simple for you.
Your poem reminds me of how much I love my video too. Especially my iPad. I am constantly amazed at the things I can see and hear these days--right here in my hands.
I am especially enchanted by the classical music offerings on YouTube. I feel incredibly privileged knowing I can witness entire symphonies from Mozart to Mahler, more music at my beck than the great composers could hear in their entire lifetimes.
Just think how infrequently Beethoven could gather a full orchestra together (even when he could hear) to play his or his contemporaries' music.
And then note how easy it is for us to peer closeup, over the musicians' shoulders, as they follow great conductors through one magnificent piece after another.
~ OMK
I have been taking dictation on the new Viral Folk Song, recording it on my Oct. 6 Facebook page.
We know how fast folk songs evolve (they write themselves!), so now a brand new stanza has come in.
I thought I'd share it here--as an EXTRA.
(To be sung to the tune of the "Boll weevil Song"):
♫ The latest word is COVID kin fly,
Floatin’ all thru the air, ♫
Stinking up the place with no smell to detect,
Like the aerosol in POTUS’ hair.
Beware the syndrome!
Keep away from his comb!! ♫
This will be added to the eight earlier stanzas.
~ OMK
Inspired by today's CC and a certain recent clue
In those halycon days, pre-video, we sat around the TV
Watching westerns with Tom Mix and Hopalong Cassidy
Droll humor provided by the likes of Gabby Hayes
Oh yes, 1951 was surely the best of days.
But one early October afternoon while muddling about
Mom came rushing from the kitchen uttering a shout
"Put the ballgame on the Giants won the game"
Mom talks, we listen, we'd rather the Western all the same.
And there were the Dodgers walking off in a coma
The agony of defeat personified. A cosmic trauma.
Bobby Thompson had like to gut them as a thrust from a shiv
But for the seven year old set such a fate was all relative
WC
Sandy, while searching for my debate poem(was it before or after, it surely described it to a tee) I saw a late comment. You said no more comments about poetry. In case you missed it I want to reiterate that your observations were heartfelt by yours truly .
When I post I truly say "I hope Sandy likes this one". In fact my debate poem was followed by your comment "I can't watch anymore (of this Trumpion 'clowning'".
So, please comment good or bad.
Ps, I did see Owen over at FB recently.
WC
I loved your references to 1950 TV, Wilbur. I came to this country when I was 10 years old and we first stayed with my step-father's parents, who had a black and white TV. It was my first experience watching television, and I instantly got hooked on all the Westerns, like the Lone Ranger, and, yes, Hopalong Cassidy. As a child I read a series of Western novels by a German writer (can't remember his name) and that's what got me hooked on Westerns. So I loved your poem.
Good to see your poem, Wilbur! Fun to read of your TV shows and of your early experience of baseball rivalry.
It brought back memories of my late "baby" sister, and her love of those same TV westerns, especially Hopalong Cassidy, her favorite "Hoppie."
I was older, and my cowboy hero had been Roy Rogers, whom I saw in the Rio Theater.
I knew Gabby Hayes as Roy's sometime friend, maybe his sidekick now and then.
Misty ~ I think your German author was Karl May. I never read him, even in translation, but I heard of him in my German classes, with the great popularity he won for his protagonists, Old Shatterhand and Winnetou.
Are these the books you recall?
~ OMK
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