Sunday, September 30, 2012

Saturday, September 29, 2012

Woman in Red Dress Against Blue Wallpaper

Slimbo-Lyricology: "Honky Tonk Man"

Lulu's lovely little poems have ol' Slim here in a lyric frame of mind. So I'm posting some of my own forays into that domain — though mine are songs, not poems.1 I confess, I'm nervous: Louise is a tough act to follow. I write a decent turns-of-phrase, but she writes haiku-spare words that paint a moment, then flutter away. First up, "Honky Tonk Man", my take on the classic hard-luck honky-tonk song — with a wink or two thrown in:
Grandma was a honky-tonk special.
Grandpa was a low down no good man.
Daddy left when I was just a baby,
And Mama sang in a honky-tonk band.

And the only life I know is the life I'm living.
The only love I know is a one night stand.
The only friends I've got are drinking buddies.
I ain't nothing but a honky-tonk man.

I was nursed on a bottle of Old Crow.
I was smoking two packs a day by the age of three.
By ten, I'd spent half my life in prison.
Well, the lowdown life is the only life for me.

And the only life I know is the life I'm living...

I once had the love of a good-hearted woman.
She tried to steer me right but I just did wrong.
Well I lost the love of that good-hearted woman.
Now all I got left is this old honky-tonk song.

And the only life I know is the life I'm living...
1 Songs and poems are similar but not the same. A song follows the rhythm of the music. A poem follows the rhythm of its own words.

Friday, September 28, 2012

Thursday, September 27, 2012

Lulu in Shower Cap

Between summer road trips and desperate escapes from AC-less houses, we've recently had a few one-night stays in hotels (nothing fancy — just middle-tier right-off-the-highway places). It's hilarious how exciting this is to the girls: everything — the little soaps, watching cable in bed, the card-swipe keys — everything — so exciting. When they discovered the complimentary shower cap in the bathroom? oodles of fun!

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

I'm Too Sweaty for My Shirt, Too Sweaty for My Shirt, So Sweaty It Hurts1

In northern climes, summer may be a receding memory, but here, it's just winding down. (Highs in the mid 80s instead of mid 90s.) I'll miss it. I like sweating. I like not wearing a shirt.2 After Isaac, our AC was out for the better part of two weeks, and the whole time, I think I only wore a shirt to go to work. (Well, that's a slight exageration: I also wore a shirt to the grocery store. No shirt, no shoes, no service.) We flung open all the doors and windows and let the warm breeze blow through: not so bad.3

Fall, I'm happy to see you come, but summer, I'm sorry to see you go. Until next time.

1 You'll now have that song stuck in your head all day. You're welcome. I shake my little tush on the catwalk... 

2 I attribute my fondness for going shirtless to the redneck branches of my family tree. I attribute my fondness for stifling heat to the Creole branches, who spent three-hundred years in this Yellow Jack-infested sauna-swamp.

3 So say I. Sarah, on the other hand, was not amused at all.

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Cirrus Clouds

Cirrus clouds (cirrui?) look cool. And it's cool that they're frozen — wisps of tiny ice crystals feathered across the top of the sky.

Monday, September 24, 2012

Friday, September 21, 2012

Lyric Lulu: "Streetlight"

A tall slender oasis
Stands on it’s quiet corner
On an unused side street
A rip in the cloak of the night

Thursday, September 20, 2012

Lyric Lulu: "Mango Fall"

A ripe mango
Falls from a tree
A splotch of color against
Mottled greens and browns
Of the forest floor

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Lyric Lulu: "Dancer"

The next from my little poet:
Her twirl is like a falling leaf
Spinning in the wind
Pink frill becomes a pink smear
Against the canvas of a theater
Love that pink-smear/canvas metaphor.

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Lyric Lulu: "Jaguar"

So I do my share of parent-bragging on this blog: showing off kiddie-photos and such. I think I've got a right to brag: they're good little critters who make some really cool stuff. Now I'm going to brag some more and post a little series of poem-lets that Louise wrote recently.
His tail is held high
The grass parts and the wind quiets
Yet he slinks away, the momentary grace with him
"The momentary grace with him." Dang.

Monday, September 17, 2012

Man in Straw Hat


And red shirt; telephone poles in the background. (Man, I'm becoming obsessed with those things.)

Sunday, September 16, 2012

Leaves, Audubon Park

Dig that back-lighting.

Saturday, September 15, 2012

Palms, Jefferson Avenue, Sundown

A little touch of tropical elegance. (This photo seems of a pair with the last one.)

Like Drunks in a Midnight Choir1

Dang! those birds and wires and clouds and stuff are cool. Dig it, man, dig it.

1 This is a crushingly obtuse reference, and I'm too tired to explain it (but here's a hint).

New Season

June, wearing her brand new shirt for the first game of the fall season; team name: Speedy Ninjas

Friday, September 14, 2012

Mr. Purple Shirt

Lavender? Mr. Lavender Shirt? Je ne sais pas.

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Mr. Beach Bum


On our various summer beach excursions, I've seen a lot of guys that look like this guy, guys who look like they've spent every waking hour of the past several decades on a beach: skin turned to a deep mahogany; the casualest of casual wear; maybe flip-flops, maybe barefoot; some shades; shaggy locks. I confess, when I'm in one of those imagine-an-alternate-life moods, I sometimes picture myself beach bumming through my golden years. (I also sometimes imagine myself sitting on my porch all day in a wife-beater, drinking can after can of Schlitz.)

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Lady in Red

I'm not sure exactly what her deal is, but I'm pretty sure she's a fancy lady in red.

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Sunrise

We had a crazy sunrise yesterday morning. I was doing my little run (ooh, ain't I trying to be virtuous?), and this wonder of hues spread out overhead. I had to stop right there and take a snap. Ain't life grand?

Monday, September 10, 2012

"Welcome" and Sledge Hammer


It took a remarkably long time but the Isaac-haze has lifted, the week-of-Mondays has passed, and we're getting back in the groove. (I actually have to check the blog to figure out how long it's been. Blur, blur, blur, blur.) Time to get the blog-o-matic grooving as well. Here's a photo of June's lil' welcome sign that got toppled in the storm but walloped back in place with the adjacent sledge hammer. And so I say, "Welcome", welcome back to Slimbo-as-usual. Stay tuned.

Friday, September 07, 2012

Hurricane Preparedness, Slimbo-Family Style

A bunch of flashlights and a stack of New Yorkers

Thursday, September 06, 2012

Bananas Down

These were all toppled and shredded and had to be sliced down to their trunks. And the trunks are already, just days later, shooting up bright new green growth. Banana trees are amazing. And cutting down banana trees is fun. You can slice through one with a single stroke of a saw. Clearing a grove takes minutes. It makes you feel like a bad-ass.

Ay Caramba

Its amazing how disruptive a storm can be. This one was a pittance compared to Katrina, but still, it breaks down the natural order: The kids were out of school for ten days. The upstairs of our house didn't have AC for three days (a minor complaint comparatively, but still one that takes its toll). Lots of folks were without power; lots of families bunking together in whichever house did have power.

These are the sorts of situations that can go Lord of the Flies in a moment. I figured the most likely source of fatalities with this slow moving squall wouldn't be directly storm-induced injuries but instead cabin-fever-induced domestic blowouts: the guy who can't stand it any more and wallops his mother-in-law in the head with a frying pan.

But we weathered fine. No one got walloped. Only minor storm damage. Routines have resumed. (Sort of. This week feels like one long Monday.) The kids are back in school. We’re back to work. The "hurrication" is over. Onward and upward.

1 There were little whiffs of Katrina, literally. When the garbage crews finally made there rounds a few days late, for a few hours, our street stank that Katrina ass-stink. (Though this was a few hours. Katrina was many many months — and about an order of magnitude stronger.)

Wednesday, September 05, 2012

Fourteen Years

Today the Lady and I have been married fourteen years. My, my. Thick and thin. Easy times and hard (and annoying little hurricanes). Glad I'm witchya, darlin'.