I Do Like To Be Beside The Seaside

What is it about
that particular
beach that
makes me feel
all nine-years-old
again , I wonder ?

It’s amazing to me
that after all these
years, that a stroll
down the boardwalk
at night still makes
me every bit as
excited as it would then.

It’s not the wild
whirl of the
amusement rides,
the dark appeal of
mysterious shops,
the animation of
people all around,
.. or the ubiquitous
neon buzz of the
Mac’s Pizza signs
every block or so…..

I stop to ponder
further upon it.

Perhaps the
explanation lies
within some quiet
compromise of
sensory remembrance –

the sounds of the
great ocean swift
sweeping in and
out of that same
beach where I had
spent so many
happy hours –

my ocean –

– eyes tracing the place
on the pier where I was
gifted my very first kiss,
feeling still, the covert
tenderness of that hour,

her kiss –

– sniffing that special
fragrant balance of ocean,
sweat, and the oh-so-
sweet perfume of being
on vacation,

– the memory-tasting
of walk-around foods
of all kinds.

But there’s also
something essential
that’s not of bodily
sensation at all –

So, what is it,
I ask?

And as I pause
once more to
wonder at it,
I suddenly
perceive what
seems to be
a rift in time –

my head is spinning
and I find myself in
the strangest state
of mind –

like I could simply
leap over the railing
and dive into the
‘there and then’ –

until a blaring
Watch The Tramcar
brings me back to
the ‘here and now’.

and yes,
shaken a bit,
I commence
to stroll
once more,
and before long
it comes to me
what the missing
aspect was –


Yes, above all
those other things –

– it was the lovely
languorous freedom

freedom to walk,
or not walk –

freedom to swim
or not swim,

freedom to eat
or not eat –

freedom to be …
freedom to be me.

See ?


!!! HOY !!!

Accidents Can Happen

How many times
has someone at work
explained a new rule
or procedure and
ended up by
” safety first ” ?

Once you consider
the risks we take
on a regular basis
for the sake of:
our daily bread,
exercise, chores,
and the like —

(not to mention
FUN- –
what’s fun
without risk?)

— you get to
just what all
the hub-bub
is all about,

I mean,
really safe.

You could think
that if you’re the
one pointing
the gun,
you’re the
safest person
in the world –
until it backfires
and explodes in
your hand.

You could figure
that a boat is safer
than learning to
swim, until you
spring a leak a mile
from shore.

You could pile
up all the stock
and bond profits
from the bullest
market ever —
and then find
yourself trickling
down the side of
a building like so
much ticker tape.

Oh well,
there goes

It’s like the man
nobody’s got a
perfect shelter.

Safety is a
myth, man….

invented by
scare-dey cats
to help them
get out the door
in the morning and
not just hide under
the covers all day.

Not that if you
were as big a pussy
as that you’d be
safe there, either.

!! HOY !!

Just Say Au Revoir

1951” Hello,
I must be going,
I cannot stay,
I came to say,
I must be going.
I’m glad I came,
but just the same
I must be going. “

These famous ‘parting’ lines
were uttered by Groucho Marx
in the film
” Animal Crackers ” ….

It’s certainly an
interesting way
to make an entrance/exit,
isn’t it ?

as Paul McCartney would say it:goodb
You say goodbye
and I say hello”

And it all boils down to this:

How hard is it to say ‘adios’ sometimes?

Pretty damned hard —

And I hate long goodbyes
to begin with.

One of my fantastic readers
gave me an idea for a post
a long time ago, and I’ve
been mulling it over ever
since —

I even came up
with a fancy-pants thisles
title and everything.

I’ve been thinking
so hard about it,
I forgot who gave
me the damn idea
in the first place.

They do say that
as you get older,
— memory is the second
thing to go, ya know.

I’m glad I can’t count.


So, if it was you
from whom
I stole the idea,bless

I’m truly sorry
—– for mangling it like
I’m about to do.

Probably most everybody
remembers the Paul Simon
Fifty Ways To Leave
Your Lover
” —

He does give
some pretty
interesting examples,
for sure.

Make a new plan, Stan
Hop on the bus, Gus” —sailor

and those are fine,
—- if your name happens
to be Stan or Gus
( my sincerest sympathies )

what if your name is
Myron or Jose ?

Don’t quote Byron, Myron…

Just Mozzay, Jose.

I don’t think that works
anywhere as well.

So what’s a guy to do ?buddy

The friendly neighborhood
postcard publishers of
the early 1900’s
liked to produce cards for
just about every occasion,

—- and since
‘goodbyes’ are
notoriously hard to
say otherwise,
they pitched in to
do their part–

and boy did they.

There are literally
thousands of different
postcards, all basically




Get Into The Wind,


Leavin’ On A Jet Plane,

Catch Ya On The Flip Flop,

Peace Out,

Gonna Go Live With Granny,

Bon Chance,

Ticket To Ride,forever

So Long,

Laytah Gaytah,

Gotta Catch A Train,

I’ll Get Me Coat,

Hasta la vista Baby,

Adieu Sweet Stranger,duty


Oh sure,
I guess
there are much
more poetic ways
of communicating it.

I mentioned Lord Byron
(at least, I think I did… )

And I always found his
So We’ll Go No More A Roving
verse rather appropriate:

” Though the night
was made for loving,
And the day returns too soon,tosti
Yet we’ll go no more a roving
By the light of the moon. “

therein lies the rub.

It’s not just finding
the right words,
but getting the courage up,
fighting back the tears,
saying the words
in the right way,

and then handling
the reaction,
(whatever that may be) —

talk about a Gordian knot.

A postcard,
on the other hand,
only requires
a stamp and an address.

Add a “Dear John”
or “Dear Jeanette”,
you’re done with
the whole thing.

Fait Accompli.

It does seem kinda
to do it that way.1912

I guess the
immense variety
of ‘goodbye’ postcards
just goes to show how
difficult the whole thing
can be to say face to face.

And sometimes,
…. it was actually
the ONLY way of saying it….

of one ilk or another,
seems to have produced
the majority of them —

Another surprise, huh?girlie

I guess of all
human enterprises,
war tends to be
the most universally
destructive and invasive —
not only to life and property,
but also to relationships
and human happiness.

And the cards reflect that.

Some are really touching
and tender.

Others just make you
wonder, man.

So, as my friend
Julie would say:





The Dog Days Of Summer

It’s summer time —

— that’s no
bummertime —

happy days
and sunshine

melt the icy
of snow.

so it’s
not Shelley,
I’ll admit.

More like
Steve Miller…. 

which is why
I dropped
the verse
after 4 lines.

one must admit a
grudging admiration
for the stifling heat
of summer in
contrast to the
bitter cold we had
this last winter.

If one more pocket
philosopher informs
me that it’s :
“not the heat,
it’s the humidity”
I’m gonna shove a
thermometer some
where they’re going
to have a difficult
time retrieving same.

90- 100% humidity
is, indeed, a factor
that we regularly
deal with here in the
South –

usually with dignity…

– cause we’re kinda
used to it, if such
a thing was really

At such levels,
the sweat is
sucked out of your
pores so fast it doesn’t
really have time to cool
your body —

Basically, it’s just nature’s
way of making you feel
like a damp, smelly gym
sock all summer long.

Even my dog thinks I
smell bad at this time 
of year.

And in case
you were wonderin’,
Daisie Doggie is doing
fine —

she’s got her spot picked
out on the couch, right
in front of the window
air conditioner in my 
study, where she then
simply requires a blanket
to keep her cozy but still

a red Twizzler to
gnaw on occasionally,
two toys,
and some peace
and quiet
are also very

Put some Gershwin
on the stereo while
you’re at it —

–not too loud,

A dog’s life.

summer time —
where the livin’s easy.


!! HOY !!