A Big Bus

A big bus moves

Like a hippopotamus.

It starts quite slowly

For it weighs so very much.

It carries many people

Who are very glad to ride

Along the busy highway,

Safely tucked inside.

Special Warning:

Never ride

Inside

A hippopotabus!

Extra Question:

Busses are so big and heavy,

Who could ever

Catch a bus?!

– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL

(Published some time in the early 1970s in “Award-Winning Poems” by the North Carolina Poetry Society.  Since, set to music and widely known by my children and grand children.  Ask any of us and we’ll sing it for you…)

Kind of makes you want to smile, huh!


The bus

Learning the word “Reflection”

When only six, our son , Dan, was in school

and heard read there “The Ugly Duckling” tale.

The teacher asked, when putting the book down,

“How did the duckling learn he was a swan?”

Dan waved his hand and shouted his answer,

“He saw his erection in the water!”

– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL. Sept. 22, 2012

The Ugly Duckling

Yertle the Turtle and the 47%

Dr. Seuss weighed in on the news about the 47% of “dependent” Americans and “the distribution of wealth” and power with the non-partisan story of Yertle the Turtle.

A comment on “Uproar over video offers a warning about what happens when fundamentalism wins” (MPR commentary September 18, 2012) on religion as a tide pool).

Here’s an edited version of what someone named Dan Brunner wrote:

I think tide pools vary but are basically the same-1 source, (1 God) bound by laws of nature (God/humanity/morality) composed of bits of the ocean’s ecosystem (people/works). Tide pool waters are nature being apostolic; even if the ocean isn’t within eyesight, people are instinctively drawn to the marvel of and connection to it, and at the core are likely to believe the tide pool is evidence that there is something greater beyond.
There should be simple joy/peace in such a marvelous place, given space and freedom, there probably wouldn’t be conflict, however a turtle without good motive, without talent or merit can make itself king of a pond, can control and oppress other turtles to elevate oneself/opinion. With the myth that Yertle has achieved the height required for the greater vision, he’s given the power to create arguments around whose tide pool is better, bigger of more virtue; Yertle can burn Korans, yell God hates __ and misrepresent both history and what other Yertles say.

In the book, supporters supported until they physically couldn’t, but sometimes, in real life, Yertle supporters crawl out of the pond and get on a bus. Each tide pool can have its own Yertle and Yertle-supporters….
The Yertles argue; supporters support. Like a commodity, the tide pool can be fortified, quartered, used, harvested and polluted. The spiritual draw is weakened, but we sit there content and convinced we are right, or we feel obligated to follow tribe/tradition/peers to the point where we end up like the water you describe  – slimy, stinky and immune to the stench.  It’s good to be part of the tide pool, but isn’t our quest to be towards the ever-fresh ocean? Could/would Yertle ever explain that, if it meant he would no longer be seen as king of the pond?

Join Dan and chime in on the discussion of the tide pools (ponds), the kings, and poor little Mac at the bottom of the Yertle tower (the Tower of Babel) whose burp saved turtles from the tyranny of Yertle.

Hormones Mixed with Gasoline

Cushman Eagle Motor Scooter

Cushman Eagle

In the mid-’50s, Illinois (and maybe

other foolish States) for just a year

or two allowed 15 year olds to pay

a small fee for what was a lawn-mower

engine on two wheels:  a motor scooter

built by a guy named Cushman.  And for less

than $400 I bought a new

top-of-the-line Eagle.  It had two gears,

a clutch, and a weak horn that barely made

the boys on bikes glance at me going by.

Like me, most scooter riders must have paid,

as well, for bones reset–for with a high

speed of 50, many kids of 15

would crash when hormones mixed with gasoline.

– Steve “You-Know-Who” of WILL was lucky. He got a Cushman Eagle as a kid. Here’s a another guy who wasn’t so fortunate, but who had to wait until he was 60. Look in on the family Christmas. It’s enough to make a grown man cry, in the best of all ways..with joy.

Elmer Fudd and the Wolf Hunt

The Minnesota Department of Natural Resources (DNR) has authorized a new Wolf Hunting and Trapping Season that begins November 3rd. Apparently the once endangered species is getting too large. Click this Link to MN DNR site for information.

Here are two alternative world views on the hunt – those of the Mountain Lion and Elmer Fudd – in a classic Looney Toons cartoon on Elmer the hunter, “What’s My Lion?”.

“I set a new wecord this year; it took me only thwee hours to get wid of aww of them!” – Elmer Fudd’s last words in “What’s My Lion?”, his final appearance.

Oblivious Dreaming

Little 6’8″ Steve on his motorcycle with Studebaker Hawk behind

Honda Dream CB 150 Hawk

The motorcycle was too small for me,

but was what I could buy with part-time work.

Not loud and rough like the big bikes Harley-

Davidson made, the slim Honda Dream Hawk

would start not with a kick, but with the push

of a button…  Quiet, purring, and clean–

liked even by my mother–I would ride

130 miles to college, then

come  home the next weekend to see my bride-

to-be.  

         The bike was under-powered, meant

for in-town rides, so on the roads I’d draft

behind a semi-truck to reach a speed

of 65.  The truckers hated that

I stuck so close behind out of their sight,

but I, oblivious, dreamed on my steed…

– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, host of “Keepin’ the Faith” on Illinois Public Radio WILL at the University of Illinois.

Now he spends his time on the prairie looking for a draft of wind to fly his kite.

Steve waiting for a truck?

              

Atlas Shrugged

Holding up the rock

Three young Atlases kept the world from falling years ago.

Steve (left) became a corporate lawyer. Ron (center) went to Vietnam, returned to manage his family business, and became a high school physics teacher. The guy on the right still thinks he’s holding up the world!

We don’t remember where this shot was taken. Today, the day after posting “The Blue Bomb and the Fire Bombs” (Ron owned “the Blue Bomb”), the picture reminds me that somenhow the rock remained balanced there without our help. When the three Atlases shrugged, the world didn’t fall.

My spirit feels lighter.

1957 Studebaker Silver Hawk

Steve Shoemaker’s Studebaker Silver Hawk

1957 Studebaker  Silver Hawk

The car was low and light, but had

a V8 engine, squealing tires

from stop signs if you pushed the pedal

down.  At work I bent some wires

to hold  a flower vase inside,

(I was 16 and romantic).

I never offered girls a ride

to school even though I was sick

with love: the car was bold, but I

was shy.

– Little Stevie Shoemaker, Urbana, IL September 11, 2012

Shy Steve and Studebaker in line at the drive-in?

NOTES:1) “This model cost $100 a few years ago–Thanks, college friend, Dwight J.  The 1957 real
car, bought used in 1960, cost $1,000. Thanks, Grandpa Shoe…

2) Nadja, Steve’s girlfriend and future wife, appears to be in the middle of the front seat. Not that shy!

Domino Wars

dominos

In Texas and in downstate Illinois

a game of dominos is played by four

(in pairs) with bidding, tricks like Bridge, and more

trash-talking, bragging, cussing, and then boisterous

hollers than at a rodeo or

a harness race.

Each State will grimly say

the other stole the game and does not play

exactly by the rules.  And if a poor

bystander cannot understand how 42

points are made in 7 tricks, then

a Western drawl and terse Midwestern twang

will clash in trying to explain the score.

A hand that takes all points earns 84;

but neither State will play fair anymore…

– Steve Shoemaker, Ubana, IL – April 25, 2012

Inspiration

Steve Shoemaker sent this in March with a note “Don’t blog this. Someone might think this actually happened….”  I can see why. He later recanted. I don’t know why. Must have happened to another guy.

This week Steve and Nadja are in Chicago celebrating their 47th Wedding Anniversary. Seemed a good time to publish this unpublished piece in honor of their wonderful relationship.

“Inspiration”

We had been married less than seven days, when we met them at the resort.

“Your wife and mine are twins,” he said, “nice smile, same size, dark hair in pony tails, green eyes…”

His wife added they had twin boys, age two, back home, New York…  We went with them to their small house (the World’s Fair was the draw).  Sex was his theme at every step:  jokes, puns, inuendoes…

In their guest bed we snuggled front to back, and whispered, “What a jerk!” but soon began the oldest dance.

Those times were so far back we had not lived together.  Orgasm for her was new and almost painful.  Groans

were held in so we would not wake the twins…