Winter-time Is Here!

My friend Carolyn Arends, a phenomenal singer-songwriter (see www.CarolynArends.com) wrote a song called Land of the Living, in which she wrote the following lines:

The frost came so early this year
Springtime is long overdue
And my heavy coat,
It don’t keep out the cold like it used to

Nothing but fog in my mind
Nothing but ice in my veins
I know everything’s got a season,
But tell me please the reason
This winter will not go away

"This Winter" in Chicagoland hit Thanksgiving weekend, and seems to be picking up speed! We've had a couple of snowfalls - last night's was 11 inches - and the ground is now thoroughly blanketed. Gigantic piles in the parking lots of various stores. We're supposed to get a little more snow tomorrow night, on into Sunday morning. Sunday and Monday's highs are in the single digits. And it's not really even Winter until the 21st!

As soon as the weather changed I started thinking about this song. My heavy coat, it don't keep out the cold like it used to. I really don't get cold; I've lived in the Chicago area my whole life, so I guess I've got thick blood. But I know many do get cold - my wife is one. And the colder you are, the longer the Winter must seem.

I wonder if we'll feel cold (and, alternately, hot) in Heaven? There's nothing as lovely as a cold Winter night, with no breeze and a gentle snow falling. Or the heat from the sun that streams through your car's windshield on a sunny Winter day. Of course there's the beach in the Summer and that overall feeling of warmth you get from laying in the sun. And the chill of walking into the air conditioning . . . or down into a cave. Perhaps it will be even better! Maybe we'll be able to get close to the surface of a star, or walk on the dark side of the moon . . .

For now, though, I'm enjoying the weather . . .

Sometimes I dream that the summer has come
I feel the warmth of the afternoon sun
But then I awaken and I’m back to waiting
Oh how much longer Lord?

Silly Christmas Songs :: Santa Claus Is Coming To What???

For some reason, I've had this silly version of "Santa Claus Is Coming To Town" brewing in my mind. It is Christmas time, of course, and the music has been playing for several days, now. And while I'm a Christian, I'm not going to confuse the American Christmas season with the Christian religion, so please don't any of you, either. If this seems a bit vulgar, just consider it a poor attempt at humor . . .

Santa Claus Is Coming To What???
© 2008 by Mark Dopita

You better watch out, you better not cry
The big guy's coming, get ready to fly
Santa Claus is coming to kick your ass!

He's making a list of things you done wrong
Of how you done bad, in words that are strong
Santa Claus is coming to kick your ass!

He sees you when you're sleeping
He knows when you're awake
[Music stops; spoken]That seems a little creepy, don't it?
A restraining order's what you need
Get one now, for your own sake!

You better watch out, you better not cry
The big guy's coming, get ready to fly
Santa Claus is coming to kick your ass!

You're out with your doll, she's starting to coo
But over your shoulder, he's looking at you
Santa Claus, that creepy old man

You're havin' a beer, you're havin' a shot
You're smokin' the last cigarette that you've got
Santa Claus is makin' his plan

The kids in girls-and-boys land
Who do the things you do
Are all in for a rude ol' shock
When he gets his hands on you

You better watch out, you better not cry
The big guy's coming, get ready to fly
Santa Claus is coming to kick your ass!

Post 33 of 30 :: And While We're At It . . .

Anybody else remember these from the 60's???

Post 32 of 30 :: A Logo

Whaddya think? It fits me! Thanks, Mr. Schultz!

Post 31 of 30 :: The Art Shot

Beautiful, downtown Keokuk, Iowa, as seen from the side mirror. Kinda works, doesn't it?

Post 30 of 30 :: Used Books and ???

I'm not sure where the name came from, but I love browsing through used book stores. This one was in Kirksville, MO, and is, sadly, out of business. On my way to Kirksville, I used to travel through Keokuk, IA, where the was a store named "Treasures and Trash". One man's meat is another man's poison, they say . . .

Post 29 of 30 :: A Nice Lake View

Kinda makes you want to compliment the Lord who made it all, doesn't it?

Post 28 of 30 :: Fay's Dinky Diner

This might look familiar to anyone who lives in Eagle River, WI. A small diner, much longer than it is wide, with a terrific (and very descriptive) name. I believe it's called "Don's Downtown Diner", now, though.

Also from 2005.

Post 27 of 30 :: The Cabin

I help my friend Paul open and close his cabin in Land O' Lakes, WI almost every year. We went up a couple of weeks ago to close it up for this year, and enjoyed some pretty nice weather. Back in 2005 we had beautiful colors to go along with nice weather.

This is a picture from that weekend.

Post 26 of 30 :: Executive Pay

I've recently read an article titled, "Why Obama, Congress must curb CEO pay" (link). While I consider myself a conservative, I am not so conservative as to "cut my own throat", compensation-wise. Therefore, I must agree with the author.

The article's basic point is this: executive salaries are too high - way out of line with what the average American earns - and are hurting the economy. If you can accept that premise, the questions that must be asked are, first, can the government (Congress) do something about it, and, second, why should it?

The point is that the government can decide, through tax policy. Take the average employee's salary, multiply it by 20, then tax a company an amount equal to the difference between the average and any other employee's salary that exceeds the average.

For example, if the average employee's salary is $20K, and the president of that company makes $400K, no tax is owed. But if that same executive makes $4,000K (four million bucks), that firm will owe the feds $3,600K in taxes. Total cost to the company for that executive: $7,600K.

Why is it that the government can do this? Because the government sets tax policy through the writing of laws and the establishment of rules guiding the application of those laws. See the US Constitution, article I, section 8:

The Congress shall have Power To lay and collect Taxes, Duties, Imposts and Excises, to pay the Debts and provide for the common Defence and general Welfare of the United States; but all Duties, Imposts and Excises shall be uniform throughout the United States;

Why should the government do this? Because it is in our government's best interest, and is the reason the Constitution was established:

". . . to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity . . ."

I believe the operative phrase is "the general Welfare". If executive compensation is getting out of hand, as most would agree it is, it is at the expense of the common man, and should be corrected.

Good-Bye to Daylight Savings Time!

And hello to waking up at the same time. Yesterday's six o'clock is today's five o'clock. So what time do I wake up? At five . . . rats!

Post 25 of 30 :: The Gardner

On the advice of Justine, I recently read the Rudyard Kipling short story, The Gardner. I enjoyed the story - especially the language, which English was written quite unlike today. I really liked the payoff, in the third sentence from the end of the story.

Makes you think . . .

Ps 103:15-18

As for man, his days are like grass, he flourishes like a flower of the field; the wind blows over it and it is gone, and its placed remembers it no more. But from everlasting to everlasting the Lord’s love is with those who fear him,
and his righteousness with their children’s children — with those who keep his covenant and remember to obey his precepts.

Post 24 of 30 :: Sunset on Island Lake?

Don't I wish! No, this isn't Island Lake. It's sunset at Huntington Beach, California in June, 2006.

We'd gone to California to visit our daughter Amy as she worked as a chaperone for visiting church groups doing mission work in downtown Los Angeles. We were there for almost ten days - too long for a guy from Chicago. Immediately after our vacation I didn't think I'd want to go back. But now I guess I would, as long as it wasn't for too long a time. Perhaps a week's vacation . . . which I need . . . now!

Post 23E of 30 :: Cary Grant

All day, all night, Cary Grant!
That's all I hear from my wife, it's Cary Grant!
What can he do, that I can't?
Big deal . . . big star Cary Grant!

Post 23D of 30 :: My Grandfather's Timex

My grandfather's watch was the best ever made
By the Timex company
Just like that watch John Cameron Swayze displayed
Last night on the ol' TV

Oh, it works under water so perfectly
And it still makes a ticking sound
Which my grandfather tried only this afternoon
And that's how the old man drowned!

Post 23C of 30 :: On Top of Ol' Smokey

On top of ol' Smokey
All covered with hair
Of course I'm referring
To Smokey the Bear

Post 23B of 30 :: The Diet

Oh, I diet all day and I diet all night
It's enough to drive me bats
Got no gravy or potatoes
'Cause the whole refrigerator's
Full of polyunsaturated fats

Fair thee well, Metrecal
And the others of that ilk
Like the diet start tomorrow
'Cause today I'll drown my sorrow
In a double malted milk

Post 23A of 30 :: Allan Sherman

The music of Allan Sherman - another part of my childhood that I remember fondly - is still available. You should find it in your local library, or have it sent in by inter-library loan - but listen to it. He's a tragi-comic figure who wrote witty rhymes to then-current popular and classical music and parlayed that talent into a career. One that subsequently destroyed his marriage and family life, unfortunately, but one that also brightened my youth. (Here's a link to his Wikipedia entry.)

These blog entries (23B-23E) are snippets from his "Shticks of One and Half a Dozen of Another". You may have to be of a certain age to understand some of the references . . .

Post 22 of 30 :: Joe's Sayings

Years ago, I worked at a factory that made automotive chemicals. It was an interestng experience, to be sure; one that taught me both how things should be run, and how people should be treated, and how things should not be run and how people should not be treated.

The plant manager was one of the most interesting people I had ever met - a real character. He had a number of funny sayings which I want to present. Now, remember, this was a factory setting, so some of the concepts embodied in these sayings might be a little rough (for younger or more sensitive readers . . . ha!). One thing about them, though, is I've rarely heard them used by anyone who didn't work at this place.

Saying #1 - for when surprised by something: "Holy Mother Cat!"

Saying #2 - for when surprised by something: "Holy Livin' Shit!"

Saying #3 - when the college kid (me) didn't do something right: "Send 'em to school, give 'em a book and they still don't know nothin'!"

Saying #4 - used in "woulda/coulda/shoulda" mode: "Yeah, and if your aunt had balls she'd be your uncle!"


I'm sure I'll remember a couple more in the near future. If so, I'll post an update. I just Google'd Joe's name and found a residential listing. Wonder if he'd rememeber me?

Rats!

I didn't make the 30 postings in 30 days goal. Not because I'm out of material, though. Rather, because I have too much to do and can't get to the blog often enough! So I'll complete the 30 (with nine more to go) and sally forth from there!

Post 21 of 30: A Rope-Skipping Song

My wife remembers this, from her childhood, jumping rope in the neighborhood:

Cinderella, dressed in yella
Went downtown to meet her fella
On the way her girdle busted
How many people were disgusted?

Then, counting as you jumped: 1, 2, 3 . . .

Cracks me up to think about it!

Post 20 of 30: Gravy

This is another piece from the 1991 class, and, I have ta tell ya, it was a heckuva lotta fun to write! I was laughing myself silly while thinking up these lines. Got a roaring ovation when I read it in class, too.

Gravy
© 1991 by Mark Dopita

Gravy eats time, when cooking don't boil

or the pan will be black
the Gravy, like soil

Gravy don't dress, it's brought to you nude

for putting on meat
or your wife (but that's lewd)

Gravy dreams lightly, inside of your gut

and soon it adds pounds
to both sides of your butt

Gravy is born of spices and juice

a sprinkling of parsnip,
a carcass of moose

Gravy loves meals, at lunch and at dinner;

the folks who don't like it
they seem to stay thinner

Gravy hears footsteps, a rushing to places

and soon it is seen
on shirts, laps and faces

Gravy kills hunger, a longing for food

the flesh of dead veggies,
dead critters (some moo'ed)

Gravy for Bison, Gravy for Snake

the mashed are the mountains,
the Gravy, the lake

Gravy for Otter, Gravy for Bear

Gravy at food fights
stays thick in your hair

Gravy for Kitty, Gravy for Dog

Gravy for Wombat
and Weasel . . . Warthog!

Gravy for Elephant (I like it baked)

how many Gravies
does Heinz Ketchup make?

Gravy, I love it! Gravy it's great!

so please to forgive me
I'm off for my plate!

Post 19 of 30: My Hands

Another old piece, from April, 1991, in an English class at McHenry County College. Write about your hands, the instructor said. No need to rhyme this time.

Looking back at it, with four kids, it's a wonder that the dishes were ever done. I still try to keep the kitchen clean, washing and putting away the few dishes that might have been left from last night while the coffee is brewing - kids are grown, now - and picking up most every night.

And I still write computer programs, and feel that I'm nothing more, really, than a tradesman of the 90's and 00's. White collar? Maybe, but still a tradesman.


My Hands
© 1991 by Mark Dopita

Lovely?
My wife's hands are; not mine
Mine are homey hands
Full of oil from the car
Dust from the attic
Paint
The deep yellow, smelly, dank "stuff"
From the innards of a pumpkin I just
Carved for my kids

My hands are workman's hands
Hands of the 90's
Hustling out of file cabinets
Bustling over the keyboard
Bellied up to the desk
Coding computer programs

My hands do the dishes, the water roasting
The pots, pans, glasses, silverware
The house owns my hands at night,
The job the day
The sink constantly re-fills
Overnight, somehow

I long to awaken
To find the dishes done,
The sink drainer empty
Of last night's plates

Post 18 of 30: Draft of an (Old) Untitled Song

From circa 1977, after I had left Northern Illinois University, dropping out of college.

I didn't want to be a songwriter or a performer at that time, but wanted to write songs because . . . I don't know. Seems soooo long ago. And re-reading this after so many years gives me the feeling that I must have been somewhat depressed at that time.


Untitled
All Rights Reserved

If you realize what I say is not always true
Then do not ask me why
And if you understand the world as it is today
You won't wait long to die

Maybe I can't see
Maybe we're all blind
Or have I lost my mind?

Being alive today
You will learn some way
That time merely flutters by

If you realize what I do is not always right
Come be with me tonight
And if you understand the actions of my friends
You must have seen the light

Maybe I can't feel
Maybe I'm made of clay
I don't know what to say

Seeing the sites so fine
Daring to cross the line
Don't say "don't do that" . . . you might

If you realize emotion is up to me
You'll know I don't give a damn
And if you understand politician's schemes
Better leave now while you can

Maybe I don't know
Maybe you're not sure
I wish to hell some were

You know you've lost your head
Leaving men for dead
Reason escapes from every man

Post 17 of 30: How It (Unfortunately) Used To Be

In my travel back to Kansas for dad's 70th anniversary since high school graduation, in the stop at the Hays cemetery, I saw something that made me think how lucky we are to be living in this age. Picture four gravestones, four children, none of whom lived to be three years old. I was stunned.

I no longer remember the family's last name (and I didn't think to write it down), but consider the pain they must have had to deal with. Death was an integral part of life, it seems, back in the late 1800's. How could they have handled such a thing? I pray that God gave them strength, and that they believed in the promises Christ made to us, to be with Him in Heaven some day.

Albert, born 23 Oct 1887, died 16 Apr 1888
Herman, born 27 Nov 1886, died 26 May 1887



Paul, born 3 Oct 1883, died 1 May 1886
Carl, born 21 Feb 1879, died 30 Jun 1879

Post 16 of 30: A Boy and His Dog

This picture shows a monument to Jackie Downing (1873-1878), the son of James M. Downing (1842-1932) and Ella L. Downing (1852-1933). It can be found in a cemetery in Hays, Kansas. My father was born and raised in Plainville, Kansas, some 25 miles from Hays. He told me the story of the little boy and his dog.

Now, my dad was born in 1921, so this story has some dust on it. But it seems that the little boy became ill with a disease and passed away. The boy's dog went to the grave every day, pining for his lost friend. Then, one day, he laid down at the grave site and died there. My dad said that the statue had been put in place long before he was born. And you can see from the weathering, that it has been there for years.

I'm sorry I don't have a better picture. But it's really quite something to see, and to think about . . .

50% There!

So now I've gotten to 15 of 30 posts and still haven't found the materials I was looking for. So I have more to post, and plenty of time to do it (to reach my goal of 30 posts in 30 days). But this weekend will find me in northern Wisconsin, and there's still class on Tuesday and Thursday nights, and jazz-band music to practice (with a concert coming up in ten days or so), and computer programs to write, and a deck railing to stain, and . . .

Post 15 of 30: What is it like?

I'm reading The Year's Best Science Fiction, 24th annual edition. Specifically, a story by Bruce McAllister called Kin. Near the end of the story, which is about a 12-year old boy from Earth and an alien assassin, the by asks the question, "What is it like to kill?"

The answer is very well-written, but I thought at once that the question in the story is not the correct question for the answer. And posing this other question has forced me to think back to before I had even met my wife, before we were married, before we had children, before my wife became ill, before the older generation of my family had started to pass away. And then to think forward again to today.

The question: What is it like to love?

The answer: It is both more, and less, than one imagines it will be.

And so it is . . .

Post 14 of 30: How Many Smoots Tall Are You?

I, personally, am 1.12 Smoots tall, according to this amusing article from those good old (clean) college days!

I feel sorry for the guy whose face is just outside of what is now a (somewhat) famous picture. Right place, right time, wrong height!

Cub Watch :: Just Wait Until Next Year . . .

There, now I've said it. Said it in '69, too. To cap it off, here's the famous little ditty written by Steve Goodman, A Dying Cub Fan's Last Request. Nuff said . . .

By the shore's of old Lake Michigan
Where the "hawk wind" blows so cold
An old Cub fan lay dying
In his midnight hour that tolled
Round his bed, his friends had all gathered
They knew his time was short
And on his head they put this bright blue cap
From his all-time favorite sport
He told them, "Its late and its getting dark in here"
And I know its time to go
But before I leave the line-up
Boys, there's just one thing I'd like to know

Do they still play the blues in Chicago
When baseball season rolls around
When the snow melts away,
Do the Cubbies still play
In their ivy-covered burial ground
When I was a boy they were my pride and joy
But now they only bring fatigue
To the home of the brave
The land of the free
And the doormat of the National League

Told his friends "You know the law of averages says:
Anything will happen that can"
That's what it says
"But the last time the Cubs won a National League pennant
Was the year we dropped the bomb on Japan"
The Cubs made me a criminal
Sent me down a wayward path
They stole my youth from me
(that's the truth)
I'd forsake my teachers
To go sit in the bleachers
In flagrant truancy

and then one thing led to another
and soon I'd discovered alcohol, gambling, dope
football, hockey, lacrosse, tennis
But what do you expect,
When you raise up a young boy's hopes
And then just crush 'em like so many paper beer cups.

Year after year after year
after year, after year, after year, after year, after year
'Til those hopes are just so much popcorn
for the pigeons beneath the 'L' tracks to eat
He said, "You know I'll never see Wrigley Field, anymore before my eternal rest
So if you have your pencils and your score cards ready,
and I'll read you my last request
He said, "Give me a double header funeral in Wrigley Field
On some sunny weekend day (no lights)
Have the organ play the "National Anthem"
and then a little 'na, na, na, na, hey hey, hey, Goodbye'
Make six bullpen pitchers, carry my coffin
and six ground keepers clear my path
Have the umpires bark me out at every base
In all their holy wrath
Its a beautiful day for a funeral, Hey Ernie lets play two!
Somebody go get Jack Brickhouse to come back,
and conduct just one more interview
Have the Cubbies run right out into the middle of the field,
Have Keith Moreland drop a routine fly
Give everybody two bags of peanuts and a frosty malt
And I'll be ready to die

Build a big fire on home plate out of your Louisville Sluggers baseball bats,
And toss my coffin in
Let my ashes blow in a beautiful snow
From the prevailing 30 mile an hour southwest wind
When my last remains go flying over the left-field wall
Will bid the bleacher bums ad?eu
And I will come to my final resting place, out on Waveland Avenue

The dying man's friends told him to cut it out
They said stop it that's an awful shame
He whispered, "Don't Cry, we'll meet by and by near the Heavenly Hall of Fame
He said, "I've got season's tickets to watch the Angels now,
So its just what I'm going to do
He said, "but you the living, you're stuck here with the Cubs,
So its me that feels sorry for you!"

And he said, "Ahh Play, play that lonesome losers tune,
That's the one I like the best"
And he closed his eyes, and slipped away
What we got is the Dying Cub Fan's Last Request
And here it is

Do they still play the blues in Chicago
When baseball season rolls around
When the snow melts away,
Do the Cubbies still play
In their ivy-covered burial ground
When I was a boy they were my pride and joy
But now they only bring fatigue
To the home of the brave
The land of the free
And the doormat of the National League

Post 13 of 30: Apple Picking

My wife Nancy, our son Tim and his girlfriend Melissa went apple picking yesterday, on a very pretty Fall day. Clear skies, sixty-five degrees . . . perfect! The orchard, called Royal Oak Farm, is a Christian business: "our purpose and goal is to Glorify God by being faithful stewards of all He has given us." With 10,000 apple trees and 600 peach trees on 160 beautifully maintained acres, I think they've done their job. (Here's a link to their web site.)

The picture above shows what we picked - a half-bushel of Jonathon's and Gala's. I also sampled an Empire - I'd never had one before - and found it delicious! (I actually ate two Empires while we picked. I talked to another guy who said he'd had six! I wonder how many apples are eaten during the process of picking? No doubt this is factored into the price.)

It's amazing how many varieties of apples there are; Royal Oak grows about two dozen. I read somewhere that there are over 8,000 varieties of apples, world-wide. I guess I'm not surprised, given how things spread across the globe the way they do.

Apart from enjoying the beautiful weather and the drive to and from the orchard through what is rural McHenry county, I have to comment on how amazingly good really fresh food tastes, compared to store-bought. I have to agree with all those who say we should "buy local, eat local" - there really is a difference! But we should be good for quite a few days, now, and I'm looking forward to the apple at both morning and afternoon break time.

Cub Watch :: Just Wait Until . . .

Ouch! The Dodgers wiped us out again! I'm not holding my breath for a miracle, either. When you've lived in Chicago your whole life, you've lived through a lot of disappointment.

I'm afraid it's just abuot time to stick a fork in us . . .we're almost through!

Just Wait . . .

I won't say it yet (ya know, the tired old "Wait Until Next Year"), but a 7-2 loss is not a good way to start the playoffs. Three walks and a grand slam from Ryan Dempster in the 5th? Let's hope things turn around!!!

(This does not count as one of the 30-in-30 posts. It's simply a sad commentary on what my neighbor used to call "The Chubby Cubbies".)

Post 12 of 30: Chicago

As part of that Creative Writing class I mentioned in my last post, I also wrote a small set of poems to the city. In reading these, please understand that I was brought up in the suburbs of Chicago, not in the city itself. My folks lived 2900 north on Keating Avenue for less than three years before we moved to Mount Prospect. And now I'm fifty-some miles from downtown, so I am writing as an observer of the city rather than as a city dweller.

'Course, none of this really mattes, as we each have our own perspective, don't we?

All of the following are © 2000 by Mark Dopita.


A Bit of Fun, with ‘71

Chicago, Chicago, burning bright
Giving off un-holy light
To prove that I am not a liar
Take a look – downtown’s on fire!


You might remember that the city burned in 1871 - Mrs. O-Leary's cow and all that bit.


To Al Capone

Al Capone, along with his thugs and other
Mobsters, terrorized the city and its’ citizens
In Chicago’s chapter of Prohibitions
Dirty little book.

And though Capone was a complex man, and
Talented enough to run such a major enterprise,
In the end, he was nothing
But a simple crook.


My uncle Freddie, who died back in 1967, used to work for Al Capone during Prohibition. I probably don't have as high a regard for him as he did . . .


On Politics

“Chicago ain’t ready for reform!”
And in this town, ain’t that the norm?


Today, the whole state is as big a mess a Chicago is. And it looks like we're getting ready to vote a Chicago socialist into office? Lord, come and take me to your Kingdom!


Thoughts on Lake Shore Drive

Chicago’s really not that windy
Though her politicians are
But the pols ain’t out and about
When you slide your car
Into a lane on Lake Shore Drive.

The wide expanse of
Lake Michigan on one side,
On the other, expensive condo buildings
Lined up tall and wide
Peering out over the road.

Downtown is a sparkling jewel
A harpists strings waiting to be plucked
Stores, everywhere, and restaurants,
Bars; hidden treasures tucked
Among spires of stone, brick, steel and glass.

Now you’re south to Soldier Field
A monument to those who died
Defending us, and our freedom
In whom we show great pride
And only with monuments can repay.

Past Hyde Park and farther
South along the drive you go
Looking back o’er your shoulder
You draw in the breadth of a city so
Modern; beautiful; peaceful.

A city not without its’ problems
Racial, social divides and hate
But somehow, the City That Works;
A daily test of wills and, simply, fate:
Only time will prove your greatness.


Chicago is the City That Works. I am always amazed when I travel downtown - the buildings, the people, the food, the music! My wife and I attended both BluesFest and JazzFest this year and enjoyed both immensely. There's nothing like sitting in Grant or Millenium Park on a warm summer night, with Lake Michigan at your back, the music on stage in front of you, a li'l drink in your hand and the sun setting behind downtown.

Lovely . . .

Post 11 of 30: To Chicago Sports

With both the Cubs and the Sox in the playoffs this year, I thought it might be time to dust off this old gem. I wrote it for a Creative Writing class in the Fall of 2000.

To Chicago Sports
© 2000 by Mark Dopita

‘Twas nineteen-sixty-nine and I,
A skinny boy of thirteen, who
With loved Chicago Cubs did die
A little bit (I did not cry)
And with them I was through!

In sixty-nine the Bears were bad
(I think they lost all games but one).
I remember talking to my dad
Who said he just could not be sad
For pro teams; no, he cared for none.

Old Notre Dame, that was his team
And in the Twenties, by wireless set
Knute Rockne built a football dream.
They’d never lose; they reigned supreme!
Those glory days he’d not forget.

Now thirty years have gone, and more
Will pass by faster than we know.
The Bulls have closed and locked the door
Having tried to even up the score
Of champs on high, to teams brought low.

But though the Bears won football’s crown,
The Cubs and Hawks have only tried.
We worry who’ll next let us down
But if you win, you’ll own this town
And keep the sports fan pacified.

Though seek we may, we won’t soon find.
How many times must Chicago hear
That musty phrase, that wicked line
That echoes back to each one’s mind
“Just Wait Until Next Year!”

33.34% There!

I am now one-third of the way to 30 posts in a month. (Or was it 30 posts in 30 days?) I'd like to find my Composition II archive, where I have a few poems and short stories. It's so old that it's not even on any of the back-up drives I keep for my computers. So watch! There's more to come!

Post 10 of 30: "If"

This seems somehow appropriate given today's news re: the economy, the election, the housing market, the stock market . . . Thanks, Mr. Kipling!

If

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!

Post 9 of 30: The English Language

"The English language is nobody's special property. It is the property of the imagination; it is the property of the language itself."

- Poet Derek Walcott

This quotation came to me from The Writer's Almanac, found here on the web. I think it's right on, too.

Having travelled just a bit - both throughout the United States and Europe (England, Denmark, Germany, The Czech republic) - I find it remarkable that people outside the U. S. speak much better, generally, than we do. The most striking difference is in their vocabulary. We here in the U. S. tend to use simpler words. We just don't use a large number of words.

The Monty Python group made a joke of their sole American-born member for what he said on a flight from England to the U. S. - to California, I believe. Terry Gilliam looked down, saw a lake and said something like, "Look at that great big bunch of water!"

And that's what we do - we use many simple words ("great big bunch of water") to describe something for which there is a perfectly acceptable alternate word. An alternate word about which, many times, we don't have a clue! (In this case, "lake" would have sufficed, of course.)

But back to the language . . . flexibility is its hallmark. How many times have new words been created (sometimes in jest, I think) only to be adopted by the masses in short order? Think "gynormous". Same with phrases. Remember Clara Peller's "Where's the beef?"

As a comparison, consider this: there are about one million words in use in the English language, compared with 100,000 for French.

I suspect that as the use of English expands to all portions of the globe the number of words will increase. After all, English does tend to pull into usage words from many differente languages. All it takes is a popular song or a line in a movie or a news story to introduce a new word to the rest of the English-speaking world.

Post 8 of 30: Frank Capra

I believe this quote fits in very well with the feeling I get while watching "It's A Wonderful Life" . . .

"A simple, honest man, driven into a corner by predatory sophisticates, can, if he will, reach down into his God-given resources and come up with the necessary handfuls of courage, wit and love to triumph over his environment."

- Frank Capra, on the moral of his movies

Post 7 of 30: Would I Walk Away?

Lyrics to a song inspired by a trip to southern California, where my daughter was doing mission work one summer. I'll post a version of the song in MP3 format as time permits.


You won’t realize that God is all you need until God is all you have. (Dr. Tony Evans)


Would I Walk Away?
Lyrics © 2006 by Mark Dopita

I strolled a distance on the beach
So cold; the surf erased my feet
A bright, high sun upon my face
Thoughts of love and faith and grace

On the pier, lines cast to sea
Though men fished, none fished for me
Perhaps it is that I am caught
But free to act and free in thought

Would I walk away?
Though none can come and take away
What is mine?

Would I walk away?
Would I testify to truth and say
What is mine?

At a distance from the sea
A building stands, reflecting me
The image of the man, the son
Whose timeless work is yet un-done

The better purpose, argued still
To do the work, to do the will
To fight the fight at any cost
A monument to chances lost

Would I walk away?
Though none can come and take away
What is mine?

Would I walk away?
Would I testify to truth and say
What is mine?

Deep within the land of dreams
To my sad eyes not what it seems
Possessed of wealth I’ll never know
And depths of pain to deep to show

Yet on this stage, whose thanks we sing
Some do the work of Lord and King
To pour His grace on those who fell
That in His spirit they’ll ever dwell

Would I walk away?
Though none can come and take away
What is mine?

Would I walk away?
Would I testify to truth and say
What is mine?

Post 6 of 30: Trials

I have not truly faced many trials in my life. Not really. Not compared to many.

I have struggled to "get ahead", but we all do that.

I struggled at being a father, choosing to be a parent instead of a "friend" to my children. I've paid a price for that with one of mine, and while I would prefer to have been more understanding of him, I have to ask if that would have helped him, or would rather have simply enabled him to continue doing what I knew to be wrong. That's a question I'll have to ask at Judgement. But others have lost children altogether, to death or estrangement.

My wife has been ill for several years, but others have suffered the loss of a spouse.

We've had water come up from the sump wells into our basement, but others have lost their homes to floods.

No, I have not had to deal with tragedy; I have not truly been put through any great trials. The Lord has made it somewhat easy for me, even though, at times, I have felt depressed, and lonely and have felt that nobody truly cared.

But for those who have had to suffer, there is a Bible verse that will help you through difficult times:

"So be truly glad! There is wonderful joy ahead, even though it is necessary for you to endure many trials for a while. These trials are only to test your faith to show that it is strong and pure, it is being tested as fire tests and purifies gold - and your faith is far more precious to God than mere gold. So if your faith remains strong after being tried by fiery trials, it will bring you much praise and glory and honor on the day when Jesus Christ is revealed to the whole world."

- I Peter 1: 6-7 (NLT)

Post 5 of 30: One of My Failings

I am often an angry man. It wells up inside of me and exits my mouth. And while I know I should keep my person under greater control, I very often do not. Loving what God has done for me in my life, I really, really need to take heed of this verse which I have saved to my "Things to Remember" folder:


James 1 19:27

My dear brothers, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, for man's anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires. Therefore, get rid of all moral filth and the evil that is so prevalent and humbly accept the word planted in you, which can save you.

Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says.

Anyone who listens to the word but does not do what it says is like a man who looks at his face in a mirror and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like.

But the man who looks intently into the perfect law that gives freedom, and continues to do this, not forgetting what he has heard, but doing it--he will be blessed in what he does.

If anyone considers himself religious and yet does not keep a tight rein on his tongue, he deceives himself and his religion is worthless.

Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.

Post 4 of 30: Why I Blog

Okay, perhaps these aren't my own words, but replace certain of them with "me", "my" or "I" and I think the sentiment's the same.

From William Faulkner's Nobel Prize acceptance speech in 1950, courtesy of The Writer's Almanac (here):

"It is the poet's privilege to help man endure by lifting his heart, by reminding him of the courage and honor and hope and pride and compassion and pity and sacrifice which have been the glory of his past. The poet's voice need not merely be the record of man, it can be one of the props, the pillars to help him endure and prevail."

Post 3 of 30: Temperature Conversion

I have a file folder on my PC that has the label "Miscellaneous Neat Stuff". If you've ever wondered how to convert temperatures, especially to the very popular Kelvin scale (or absolute temperature scale), here's how to do it. I got this from another web site, of course.

Today's expected high:

• 77 degrees Fahrenheit
• 25 degrees Celsius
• 298.15 degrees Kelvin.

Dang, that sounds hot!

Post 2 of 30: The Folks Who Live On The Hill

I own the CD "Bette Midler Sings The Peggy Lee Songbook". I'm not sure that many have heard the song "The Folks Who Live On The Hill", but it is beautifully done on that album. And, at this stage in my life, it's exactly how I feel (though we don't actually live on a hill).



The Folks Who Live On The Hill
Oscar Hammerstein II / Jerome Kern


Many men with lofty aims,
Strive for lofty goals,
Others play at smaller games,
Being simpler souls.

I am of the latter brand;
All I want to do,
Is to find a spot of land,
And live there with you.

Some day
We'll build a home on a hilltop high,
You and I,
Shiny and new a cottage that two can fill.
And we'll be pleased to be called,
"The folks who live on the hill".

Some day
We may be adding a thing or two,
A wing or two.
We will make changes as any fam'ly will,
But we will always be called,
"The folks who live on the hill".

Our veranda will command a view of meadows green,
The sort of veiw that seems to want to be seen.
And when the kids grow up and leave us,
We'll sit and look at the same old view,
Just we two.

Darby and Joan who used to be Jack and Jill,
The folks like to be called,
What they have always been called,
"The folks who live on the hill".

Post 1 of 30: God Loves You!

With Thanks to Lennon and McCartney
New Lyrics © 1998 by Mark Dopita

To the tune of "She Loves You"

He loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah
God loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah
He loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah

I hear you’re feelin’ down
Since I saw you yesterday
You feel like you’re a clown
Is that what others say?

You know God loves you!
Turn to him when you are sad
Yes, He loves you
So you know you should be glad!

I know kids can be mean
They’re hurtful and unfair
They don’t care what they do
Just turn to God in prayer

You know God loves you!
Turn to him when you are sad
Yes, He loves you
So you know you should be glad!

Oh, He loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah
God loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah
With God’s love like that
You know you should be glad!

You know just what to do
Lift up your hurt in prayer
That’s what I do, too
You know that he’ll be there!

Because God loves you
He’ll help you when you’re sad
He loves you
And you know you should be glad!

Oh, He loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah
God loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah
With God’s love like that
You know you should be glad!
With God’s love like that
You know you should be glad!

Post-A-Day . . . For A Month?

I am challenging myself to publish 30 times in 30 days, though not necessarily one per day. As such, I'm "dredging through the archives", looking for poetry, song lyrics and other such things. Let's see what I can find . . .

William Braun

My father-in-law passed away this past Wednesday. He will be missed by many. Here are my wife's remarks.

All of you here today who knew my dad loved my dad. He was just that kind of a guy. He was a great dad and taught us many things so that we would live a good life.

First, he taught me to take anything that's free. You never know . . . you might meed it some day, he would say. One day my young nephew Michael came out from the city with my sister. Dad said, “Come on Michael – I'll take you to lunch.”

When they returned we asked where they went. Michael replied, “We went to Sam's Club for the free samples for lunch. Then he bought me an ice cream bar.”

He also taught us to enjoy the little things in life. One of my best memories was when I was in college. He'd make a surprise visit on his way back from a business trip. If you knew my dad . . . he always enjoyed a drink, and in those days, of course I did too! He'd take my friends and I to his favorite bar at Eastern Illinois University – Chink's. It was a dirty, grungy, townie bar where you could only drink quarts of beer. But at the end of the night he could enjoy, “the best liver sausage sandwich that you ever did have.” Not many bars had that bonus!

He taught us to enjoy nature. His favorite of God's creations was the sun. No matter how sick he was he looked great with his beautiful suntan.

This summer he and I spent a lot of time sitting outside. He shared with me how flowers, trees, rain were such miracles. He appreciated their beauty.

He taught us to be strong and accept what came our way and not complain. He displayed this quality the most. No matter how sick he was or how much he endured he was always in “tip top shape.” One time, when I was teaching pre-school, he had just gotten out of the hospital. I had just finished telling everyone how bad off he was. All of a sudden my boss looked out the window and said, “Nancy, there's your dad!”

He walked in the class. He loved to see the kids! One of my little four-year olds ran to him, put out his hand to shake my dad's and said, “Hi there, Mrs. Dopita's dad!”

My dad then told everyone he was fine. He would also tell us, when something else was wrong with him, that his body was “an amazing specimen” and that it “just seems to overcome anything.” He helped me to accept my illness and not dwell on it; just do what you have to do.

He taught us not to be afraid to admit we were wrong. When mark and I decided to move to Island Lake twenty-four years ago he told us it was a big mistake – it would not be a good investment. He would come out a lot to visit his grandchildren and grew to enjoy the fun qualities and closeness of a small community. He moved here seven years ago to enjoy the rest of his life, because, “it is the most beautiful area you ever did see.”

My dad taught us to be a friend. Everyone he met was his good friend. No matter who they were, what they did or where they lived he would do anything for them. He always helped anyone – just as God wants us to do. He'd always say he'd take care of them and help them out – and he did.

He taught us to love our family. He loved my mom - and was married to her for fifty-four years. He loved his four children and eleven grandchildren so much! He was always anxious to share with people what we were doing - he was proud of all of us.

More than anything else he taught us to be happy with our lives the way they are. It doesn't matter what you have, where you live or how much money you have. Be happy when all of your family gathers together. Be happy to sit outside and enjoy the sun. Be happy a friend sent you a card. Be happy someone made you a special Kahlua cake, just because they know you like it! Be happy someone stopped by to see you. Be happy the birds are singing, the flowers are blooming, the seasons are changing. Be happy to enjoy God's people and creations!

That's how my dad lived his life every day and that's why I loved him so much – and why I'm sure you did, too!

Dad, I'll miss you, but I'll try my hardest to keep living as you did. You are - and always will be - my hero!

Good-Bye George

We learned this morning that George Carlin has died. I'd like to be sad, but his passing is more complicated than that. I loved the George Carlin of Class Clown, of the Hippie Dippie Weatherman, of Baseball vs. Football. But I detested the humour of the angry, bitter, frustrated old man he became.

Was it the drugs? The constant touring? The fact that society in the United States wasn't turning out the way he thought it should be turning out? How did the generally happy, somewhat well-adjusted comedian become the bitter cynic he showed us he was the last few years?

I don't have that answer.

What I want to write about, though, is a what-if scenario. What if George hadn't lost his faith in God? What if, instead, he had sought the divine? What if he had found a voice in spreading the word of God? What a powerful speaker he would have been! Had he sought guidance from the Lord, what a better life he would have had!

I try to understand why his life turned out the way it did. I listen to Class Clown and AM and FM and I hear a person a lot like myself. Raised Catholic, attended Catholic school . . . to be sure, there are a lot of differences, but it's close enough. I knew a bunch of George Carlin's at school. Class clowns. Funny guys. That completes the loop for me.

But whereas I fell deeper into faith, George fell away. He questioned, and, receiving answers he didn't like, turned his back. I questioned, heard answers I didn't like, and went looking deeper into the mysteries. But I am not the speaker he was. And whereas I find it difficult to put into words certain things I think and feel about my faith, my God and my family, Carlin never seemed at a loss to come up with a funny line, a funny story or some other hook to put into words those things he held dear, no matter what other people may have thought.

I pray that the Lord brings comfort to Carlin's family, friends and fans.

And, somewhere, I hope that George has awakened in the classroom of a Catholic school, and is in the middle of getting a good talking-to. And I pray that it's in the Lord's plan that the Hippie Dippie Weatherman finds a place in God's heaven, where all of his questions can be answered and the mysteries revealed.

Can it be June?

Can it be that I haven't posted since February? I guess so. So much has gone on in the past four months! Here's a sample, in no specific order:

• I've attended two conferences, both in Florida: the 2008 SAP NetWeaver Portal conference, put on by Wellesley Information Services, at which I was a speaker, presenting a session on my company's implementation of SAP NetWeaver Portal; and the 2008 ASUG/SAPPHIRE conference, which, at 16,000 attendees, was the largest conference I've ever been to.



• My boss retired, and found that it wasn't difficult to take! Mid-50's, kids out of the house, husband already retired . . . it was just the right time. I was asked to speak at her retirement dinner and the cake-and-coffee event; I had 'em laughing, so I consider it a success. Vera will be missed (though we've already had lunch together twice!)



• I attended my 15th anniversary service award luncheon at work. The company does a lot of nice things for us (kids parties at Halloween and Christmas, big summer picnic, et al) but the very nice gift we get to select at each five-year anniversary (5, 10 , 15, 20, . . . you get the picture) is above-and-beyond, as far as I'm concerned.



• I drove my father back to what would have been his 70th high school class reunion, if they had such a thing. (Instead, it was called an Alumni dinner.) My dad's class wasn't the oldest represented, though - the class of 1933 was.



• Stayed with family in St. Louis during the Kansas trip. Saw my cousin Joann, her kids and her kids' kids. (What's the term for that - third cousins, according to what I just read?)
  
  
• Easter has come and gone (along with Lent, of course). Our church choir presented a Don Moen cantata titled "I Will Sing", in which I played keyboards, adding some bass and strings/organ/electric piano.



• I've played several Sundays with our Sing A New Song contemporary worship group.



• Development continues on a Jazz and Blues Service, albeit slowly, though I've selected the songs I think I'll use.



• I've had a chance to jam with several good musicians from our church, primarily in a jazz setting. I find that I'm being drawn more to jazz lately, and having a really good set of musicians to play with helps! I've already committed to returning to the CLC jazz band for the fall semester. (I'm a little aggravated about the award I received as the



• Nancy's dad's health is continuing its slow decline while his daily outlook continues to be cheerful.



• Tim graduated from EMT (Emergency Medical Technician) school and passed his Illinois exam. Now it's on to becoming a paramedic.



• Amy was accepted to return to college for her Master's in social work.



• Kerry's still in Prague, scheduled to return in July. She's traveled a lot, and is in Budapest this very weekend, having been to Vienna this past weekend and Amsterdam a couple of weeks ago. Amy visited her in May; they traveled to Paris then. Tim visited over Easter; they went to Rome. Wow!



• I saw Spamalot a second time, in Milwaukee. Tremendous fun! Plus, I found a great used book store in Milwaukee, a couple of blocks from the theatre, one place to which I want to return!
  



• Last night Nancy and I saw Nunsense at the Marriott Lincolnshire Theatre. (But that was only last night, of course.)



• Nancy's college friends came up from southern Illinois for a visit.



• I saw Eric Clapton in concert for the first time, as part of the ASUG/SAPPHIRE conference.



• Nancy and I attended the Chicago Blues Festival (Saturday afternoon and evening) with our friend Carol. Had such a good time this deserves a post of its own!



• I've read a lot of books, including a biography of Jack Benny, two books on physics and several science fiction novels (besides a lot of data processing stuff). I'm still reading a book on World War 2 war reporting, and have a copy of U.S. Grant's memoirs, on which I want to start. (The latter courtesy of the used book store in Milwaukee.)



• Nancy and I both had food poisoning, though she ended up in the emergency room, courtesy of the paramedics, at 3:00 AM.



• Spent some time with our close friend Sue (and her husband Paul), who was recovering from double knee-replacement surgery. She has now recovered very well, thank the Lord! My admiration for her has deepened again, seeing how she dealt with this latest challenge, which was brought on by Rheumatoid Arthritis.

I'd really like to write more about some of these subjects, but I can't promise anything, given my recent four-month absence. Perhaps during jury duty next week.

Back to Denmark!

It's off to Fredensborg, Denmark again! This time it's for two weeks. With weather estimated to be in the mid 40's it'll be warmer than Chicagoland. I'll have time to tour Copenhagen for a full day, and plan to take the ferry to Sweden on another. Have to do a bit of work in-between, as well, of course, but I'm used to that!

School Days, School Days . . .

A professor is someone who talks in someone else's sleep.

Author and Professor of English W. H. Auden

Pray, a Peg Rewrite

I took the song “Peg” by Steely Dan and re-wrote the lyrics to reflect a different subject: prayer. Here 'tis:


Pray
I’ve got the picture
Your heart is full of trouble
You don’t know what to do
Well, I’ve been there with you
And while I know you’ve got questions
I think I’ve got the answer
Pray

You’ve taken your shot
Paul tells us in his letter
When you are feeling blue
The Lord’s a strength for you
And while I know you’ve got questions
I think I’ve got the answer

Pray
He wants to hear from you
Pray
His love will see you through
When
You’re at wits end
You’ve still got one friend
And He’s listening from Heaven

You’ve taken your shot
Paul tells us in his letter
When you are feeling blue
The Lord’s a strength for you
And while I know you’ve got questions
I think I’ve got the answer

Pray
He wants to hear from you
Pray
His love will see you through
When
You’re at wits end
You’ve still got one friend
And He’s listening from Heaven


During the chorus, the backing vocals add "Wits End", "One Friend", "Hea-ven". If you listen to the song you'll here where those parts go.

Copyright 2008 by Mark Dopita

Prague Castle

The Prague Castle district in September of 2007. I had a beautiful weekend to tour Prague wuth my daughter. St. Vitus catherdal is in the background, at left.

Wenceslas Square in Prague

This, too, was a beautiful scene!

Muenchener Hauptbahnhof

Yes, it's the Munich train station - very, very impressive. I hope that when we
return in April of this year that we get a chance to see again.

From EIU to You, Almost 30 Years Later

A nicer bunch you'll never meet in your life. This from our 50th birthday, almost two years ago. In-laws are in the picture, too.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Roses are red,
Violets are blue
I like horses
Can you swim?

Courtesy of my 87-year old father; a Kansas classic!

Ignorance

"Showing ignorance is how we learn, it's how we get strangers to tell us their stories, it's how we experience the world fully."

-- Garrison Keillor

And I used to think that I had to "know it all" to be successful. . .

Weather Change, Anyone?

With a snowy, cold Winter on hand, this panorama looks pretty nice! It's in the desert east of Las Vegas near Lake Mead.

The Little House I Used To Live In

Found this on Google Maps - I knew they were taking photographs and posting them, but I didn't think they'd gotten to side streets! This place was built in 1958 and was originally sold for $19,900. Try getting it for that today . . . .

Oh My Goodness!

It's . . . February!

Did I post in January? No. Have I yet in February? No. I am soooo far behind!

Things don't look that much better for the coming few months, either, as I'm off for two weeks in Denmark (programming for our company's Notes-Exchange conversion) at the end of this month and the beginning of the next, followed by a speaking slot at the SAP Portals conference at the end of March and ten days in Prague and Munich on vacation in April.

It's busy, for sure, but is it a "good" busy? I guess that only time will tell.

Happy New Year!

"Be always at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and let each new year find you a better man."

-- Benjamin Franklin