SPAM

Long before junk emails
Began to litter cyberspace,
Most people knew SPAM
As the classic American
Canned meat product
Manufactured by Hormel.
Even today it is still a staple
In most US grocery stores.
In several countries like
The Philippines and Korea
SPAM is extremely popular
Both as a regular dinner entree
And as a treat for special occasions.
In Korea, cans of Spam
Are thought of as ideal
Wedding gifts!
Over the years there has been
Much speculation
And many jokes told
As to the supposed source
Of the meat meat used in Spam,
Some people think that
SPAM stands for
"Specially Processed Animal Meats,"
And others believe it stems from
A contraction of "Spiced Ham."
I used to tell my kids
When they were growing up
That SPAM came from the "Spamalo",
A mythical half-breed pig.
All I know is that for sure
Is that it was impossible to find
There in Turkey
Where I lived
For the last couple years,
And I suppose,
Absence makes
The heart grow fonder.

Numerical Drift

I find it takes
A lot of effort
For me to stay
Focused and alert
While counting.
I easily get distracted
Which often causes me
To lose count.
It doesn't help
That my mind
Has a natural tendency
To drift off,
Either in momentary
Lapses of sleep,
Or pursuing other
Lines of thought.
I have come up with
A slew of tricks
To help me in my
In my counting efforts,
But nothing is failsafe.
I will often
Group things
In piles of
A convenient number,
Then I can simply
Count the piles.
Occasionally I have
Counted something
Three or four times,
And each time,
Came up with
A different total.
That is a sure-fire way
To give myself a headache.
For those people
Subject to numerical slumber
As I am,
Counting sheep can be
An effective way
For them to put
Themselves to sleep.
One, two, three, four, snore.

A Man of Two Minds

There have been
Many times in my life
That I have wrestled
With a set of problems
That seemed insolvable,
Only to go to bed
And wake up in the morning
With a solution in hand.
I have come to consider
It a fact that
My subconscious mind
Is quite a bit more
Powerful than
My conscious mind,
And can often
Figure things out
That I can't solve
When I am awake.
I have learned to trust
My subconscious mind
Whenever I have
A difficult problem
Or when I have to make
A major decision,
And can't decide
What I should do.
Maybe it is just that
I have learned
Not to trust
My conscious mind.
Most, if not all,
Of the mistakes
I think I have made,
Have been made
While I was awake.
In fact, I can't remember
A single mistake
I made while sleeping.

The Thoughtful Pacer

He is a pacer,
Someone who thinks
While he paces,
Or at least
He thinks he's
Thinking when
He paces the floor.
At any rate,
He habitually
Circles round
And round
Inside his room
Wearing a circle
In the carpet,
While absentmindedly
Meandering
The fertile pathways
Of his mind.
He could be
Contemplating
All the things
He has to do,
Trying to prioritize
His activities,
Or he might be cogitating
Over a past moment,
Considering all the things
He could have,
Or should have done,
Instead of what he did.
More than likely though
His mind is
Somewhere else altogether,
Drifting off
In a fantasy world
Far from the confines
Of his room
Or the life he lives.
All he knows
Is that the clock
On the wall
Seems to leap
Forward sporadically,
And he can't account
For where any of
The time spent has gone.

The Racial Outcast

The woman was of
Chinese descent,
But born here in
The United States,
A second generation
American immigrant.
Even though she grew up
And was educated here,
It is obvious that she
Never got comfortable
With the fact
Of being Chinese
In American society.
It didn't make
Any difference
That fifty percent
Of the office
Was also Chinese.
She still saw herself
As different
From everyone else,
And felt she had to
Defend China's honor.
She took offense
At anything mentioned
Either in the news
Or in general conversation
About China
Or Chinese people
That could be
Construed as
Remotely negative,
Acting as if that was
A direct attack on her.
The slightest comment,
No matter how innocuous
Would draw her ire.
She would become livid
Whenever shoddy or dangerous
Chinese merchandise
Made the evening news,
After all,
China wasn't the only place
That made poor quality goods.
When a Chinese student
At an Eastern university
Went on a rampage
And killed a number
Of people on campus,
She felt the emphasis
In the news coverage
Was the fact
That he was Chinese,
And she railed against
The apparent injustice
Of the reporting.
She talked about
How racist
This country was,
But she was
Far more race conscious
Than anyone else
I ever met.
Her hyper-sensitivity
Made her act like
A racial outcast,
And isolated her
From the rest of
Mainstream society.
It left her
In perpetual battle
With the world,
Pointlessly defending
Everything Chinese.

The Corporate Lizard

She's the kind of boss
Nobody ever wants to have,
Someone hard to work with,
And even harder to work for,
But she's embedded herself
Within the corporate structure.
In fact, you could say
She's married to the company,
For it is apparently
The only family she has,
Thus she willing spends
All her evenings and weekends
Sequestered there at the office
And expects those
Working for her
To do the same.
Unfortunately for you,
She has been assigned
As the team leader
On a design project,
And you are a part
Of that team.
You quickly realize
Her principle concern
Is showing who is boss,
And rubbing it in.
Her concept of leadership
Is to treat those
Under her as idiots,
With barely concealed
Scorn and contempt,
To ask their opinion,
Then to completely ignore
Their responses.
She calls for frequent
And often pointless meetings,
A total waste of your time
And the rest of the team
As well as the time of
The consultants involved.
If you are a professional
And know what you are doing,
This really chafes you
The wrong way,
And it is people like her
That often cause
Experienced people
To break away,
And form companies
Of their own.

Finger Nail Drama

As far as the toddler
Is concerned,
Finger nail clippers
Are terribly crude
Instruments of torture,
And he will never
Sit quietly and watch
His fingers
Being butchered by them.
He will scream
At the top of his lungs,
Turn purple
With indignant rage,
And twist and turn,
Trying to escape
His mother's
Bi-monthly inquisition.
In spite of her
Logical concern
That the neighbors
May one day
Call the police
To report his
Tortured screams,
She dutifully proceeds
On her periodic quest
To shorten his nails
To prevent him
From gouging either
Himself or others.

Cabin Fever

He had been sitting
There at the computer
Much too long,
And was fighting
Against himself
To get anything done.
The fact was that
His mind was
In open rebellion
Against the task,
And screaming out
In boredom.
He had exhausted
All his usual tactics
Like reading the news,
Or even worse,
Playing mindless games
Like Spider or Solitaire.
He obviously needed a break,
Some kind of diversion,
Something to take him
Away from the tedium
Of the assignment
He was working on.
Really, he needed to get out,
Away from the computer,
Away from that room,
Away from it all.
The way his mind worked,
That translated to
He needed a woman
In his life!

The Best You Can

As a parent,
You simply do
The best you can
Raising your children.
There is no guidebook
That tells you
Exactly what
You should do when.
You have to
Figure that out
As you go along.
You are only human.
You will make
A mistake or two
As you stumble
Bumble along,
And you just hope
And pray
That it all works out
Because of you,
As well as
In spite of you.
As your children grow
And take on
Lives and attitudes
Of their own,
Try not to haunt yourself
In retrospect
Of the things
You didn't do
When you had a chance.
Whether or not
Your children turn out
Good or bad,
You set the best example
You could
Knowing what you knew then.
Sometimes
You might confidently think
You taught them well,
But only time will tell .
Eventually each child
Will choose his or her
Own path
Largely independent of you,
And as always,
You hope for the best.
Sometimes
An older child
Will try to blame you
For what they judge
You did wrong
When they were
Growing up.
What was done was done.
You did the best
You could,
And until they realize
And accept that fact,
They will never
Really grow up!
Sometimes
Your children will do
Astounding things,
And you will feel
Rightfully proud,
And sometimes
They will do
Terrible things,
And you will
Feel deeply ashamed
And question
Everything you did
Raising them,
Trying to figure out
What went wrong.
Either way,
Passing blame
Helps neither you nor them.
Ultimately,
You can't take
Full credit for
Their successes
Any more than
You can take full credit
Their failures.

The Parenting of Personalities

No two children
Are exactly alike,
Probably not even
Identical twins.
Parents need to adjust
Their parenting style
To what works with
Each particular child.
What works with one
Might not work
With the other,
For each child
Is motivated
By different things.
Each will have
His or her own
Unique way of seeing
And doing things.
As a parent,
There is no guidebook
That tells you how
To compensate
For differences
In personalities
Between your children.
Just as your children
Learn to recognize
And take advantage of
The differences
In personalities
Between you
And your spouse,
You must do the same
With them.

Accessing Our New Reality

I have been away
For quite a while
And on coming back
To this old country,
It seems so much
Has changed.
It is not the same nation
As the one I left behind.
Gone are both
The arrogant pride,
And the perpetual optimism
For which we Americans
Were often noted.
There is a new
President in office
Elected on
A platform of change,
But something
Far more fundamental
Than a simple
Change of leadership
Has occurred.
I find it difficult to gauge
Just where we are
Because the news channels
Have become
So biaest for or against
The current leadership
That basic objectivity
I once expected
From the news services
Is a thing of the past.
When I talk to people
I chance to meet,
I observe that
A pervasive sense of
Dissolusionment
Has set in,
Those who wanted change
Are not happy with
The changes they see,
And those who
Liked the way things were
Are generally appalled
By what they see,
And the two sides
Are more polarized
Than ever before.
Our confidence
In ourselves
And where the future
Is taking us
Appears to have been
Profoundly shaken.
The economic ressession
The nation and the rest
Of the world endured
Is by no means over,
And its effect is visible
Almost everywhere I look.
Many people who once thought
They were secure,
Have awakened
To a new financial reality,
And few are optimistic
That things will
Rapidly turn around,
That the future
Will somehow be better
Than it is today.
More people are in
Survival mode
Than I have ever seen before.
Optimists seem to be
Few and far between.
Where are we really,
And where are we headed?
I am still trying
To figure that out,
And I sense
That now is a time
Our nation needs
Leadership more than
Ever before,
Someone we all
Can believe in.

Awaiting the Familiar Stranger

They were there
At the airport
Impatiently waiting
For their child's
Grandfather to show up
After a protracted
Overseas absence.
The young couple
Proceeded to
Entertain themselves
Asking each other
If this person
Or that person
Exiting the gate
Was the one they
Were waiting for.
No, that person
Is too old,
No, That person
Is too young.
No, I think he has
More hair than that!
No, that one
Is too fat.
No, that one
Is too skinny.
Finally I showed up,
Looking somewhat
Like they remembered,
And after greeting
My daughter
And her husband,
Was introduced
To my newest grandson.

Regrets

Regrets, I have to admit
I have had a few,
For I have done
A lot of crazy things,
And made my share
Of foolish blunders.
In retrospect,
I can see a multitude
Of mistakes I made,
Things I should have done
Or would have done
If I had only known,
But what is done is done
And I must move on.
At times I must swallow
My burdensome pride,
And ask those close to me
To forgive me
For those things I’ve done,
But inevitably
The one who must
Forgive the most
Is simply me,
For I know
I could have done better,
And each time
I feel those pangs of sorrow,
I vow it will be different
If and when I get
Another chance.

Riding Fury

With eyes ablaze
Full of pent up fury
And righteous indignation,
She stormed into the room
Literally frothing
At the mouth,
Demanding an immediate search
For the missing key.
I, who knew exactly
Where I had placed it,
Deduced what might
Have happened,
But not wanting to
Incite her further,
Quickly left
And let her fume.
Had she been
Of a rational mind,
She could have reasoned
That the missing key
Was simply misplaced,
And could easily
Be replaced,
Or would simply
Turn up sooner or later.
Her blowup
Wasn't at all necessary,
But she was stuck on
Having me tear
The apartment apart
Looking for it.
The likely scenario
Was that she had
Absent mindedly
Picked up the key
And placed it
Where she often
Places her keys,
And that is where
It probably is
Even now.
I, who don't have
Neither the authority
Nor the audacity
To search her
Purses or pockets,
Can only wait until
She stumbles on it,
Or gets off the horse
She is riding.