Uh.oh.

I wrote this poem about a month ago.  I loved these movies while I was gowing up and it was a real treat going to the movies to watch each of them.  I’m now older and realize what these movies were really about or who they were about.  Let me know what you think. 

 Wax on Man

We loved the Karate Kid.

Do we really know what it’s about?

An American-style blockbuster

Ralph Macchio in Japanese robes.

A mediocre screenplay sold to Hollywood Execs

Fans lined up outside Middle-America movie theaters.

We did not know their obvious ploy.

Pat Morita was the real hero of this trilogy.

Wax on.  Wax off.

What were they thinking?

Applaud Morita San.

For filling those shoes—culturally iconic for us.

The Master Karate Sensie—Miyagi San in the movie.

He got a raw deal.

We couldn’t tell then what we know now upon reflection.

Morita lent the movie solid and believable credibility.

Movies we loved and ate up like M&Ms,

Give Pat Morita a posthumous movie award.

Miyagi san!  You’re the hero in these movies…we’ll tell y’ah.

Thank you Mr. Pat Morita.

R.I.P.

It’s friday morning.  Gotta clean the litter boxes for the cats in the house.  Yucky.  It’s for the best.  Charlie, on the other hand, is a clean dog.  i like my dog better.  Anyone wanna volunteer to clean the litter boxes on my behalf?  Please let me know.

I tried to watch a scary movie.  I say, “tried” because I have a hard time believing what I’m watching.  Things are so out of control in them.  “Freddie vs. Jason,” “Alien vs. Predator,” and then there are the “Holloween” movies, which by now looks like an encyclopedia collection on your shelf.  You know it does. 

I caught a bit of old favorite of mine: “Fried Green Tomatoes” on one of the channels.  Jessica Tandy reminds me of my grandmother.  RIP–for both of them.  ”FG Tomatoes” also makes me think of food, which is a bad idea all together.  Yah…lemonade, honey-butter, and good rasberry scones.  They sell them at the local farmer’s market.  i’ll have to head over and buy a scone or two next week.  Anyone like scones?

Oh…don’t even bother watching, “Dark Water.”

I attended a party for one of my eldest sister’s high school friends from Guam.  It’s interesting to have a Guam-style party on the east coast of the U.S.  It was a nice break from the usual all-American fare that dominates U.S. restaurants and supermarkets.  I had more than one Sam Adams.  I took it easy.  Good eats and good company.  Here is a poem about my island home: Guam.   

Pacific Happy Hour 

We don’t hear the Hawaiians

With their Hula hips shaking,

And ukulele strumming.

This is not Honolulu.

We’re not known for ornate facial tattoos

Or ink body art intrigue

Like the Maori of New Zealand.

Please don’t mistake us for Filipinos

Who serve up the best roasted lecheon

At their family gatherings.

We’ll say no to being called Malaysian

Who have Singapore

As their City of Gold.

We reside in Micronesia–

The Marianas to be exact.

Often dismissed by the world-at-large 

And perhaps known as a place and people not worth remembering.

We are the Chamorro of Guahan

Or even better: Guam.

We are blest with our Pacific-Island Heritage.

Thousands of Japanese tourists know the truth and

Visit Guam for their honeymoons and days in the sun.

We’ll serve you our favorite,

Which is tuba gone wrong.

A real man’s drink made by our hands

From the coconut trees’ bosom.

Tuba is not available in the Caribbean

Or the West Indies;

Although, you can find the coconut—

The world’s largest nut dotting most tropical isles.

Guam is the only tropical-island paradise

Where a man can drink his tuba

And meet the native witch doctors

Who distill it.

It’s a knockout PUNCH in more ways than one.

I woke up this morning and felt the sogginess  and gloominess of fall.  I thinks it’s here.  Based on the calendar–fall is here.  I’ve already had a discussion about halloween with my assistant manager.  He comes to work dressed as a NY Yankees fan every Halloween.  Last year, there was a lion, cheetah, and Dorothy (from Oz) in the dining room.  They were kids out trick or treating who wanted a meal in the restaurant.  This year, I’ll go to work dressed as Charlie Brown or Frankenstien.  Any suggestions?

I had an English professor in college who is an urban legend at my alma mater.  She is known as the professor who failed the famous writer Tom Clancy.  Loyola College undergraduates shy away from her classes, and the brave ones leave her office in tears after reviewing (what is wrong with) their papers.  She’ll brutally review your paper and break your heart.  So here is one for Professor A———.

Heart’s Walk 

Sand hugs my feet.

One step after another.

Walking with no angles–

A happy heart’s gallop.

Never stopping at all.

Running with all heart’s strength

Happiness core intent love

Never feeling second best.

A blue ribbon prize for excellence,

Never straying or distracted.

Heart’s fidelity permanent

Solid and heavy weighted.

The heart fetches its target.

In heart’s race.

True and happy.