Perspectives: 203/365

Sara Holmes (Violin, Eight Bars Parents)

Watching them squirm
When I play,
The Devil Went Down to Georgia,
Is about the most fun
I’ve had playing in a long time.

I tap into some anger
About all the time
They made me do this.
Maybe someday I will appreciate
The hours of missed play.

For now, though,
Let me, “Jump up on a hickory stump.”

Goat Training


I got to go out with my friend and help him take care of his goats as they clear away an overgrown section along the Chickahominy River in Virginia. It’s so cool how they work without pesticides, machines, or the annoyances that come with both.

Perspectives: 202/365

Alfie Pearce (Mushroom Grower, Music Friends of Sports)

Some are talking vegetables
Over weed.
At least we’re not talking about
This damn school thing.
I want to grow more,
I want to be solid with my workers
I want them to feel safe here.
Maybe I can do something more.
Maybe I can help them understand
The paths to citizenship,
The importance of being part of the process,
The value of their contribution
For the growth of our community,
Whatever it is that we do,
They are an important part of the process.

WMBG Haiku

Hanging on Scotland
Empty streets, coffee smells
Seeing old haunts with new eyes

Perspectives: 201/365

Jack Dean (Finance, Eight Bars Parent)

As you know,
I’d rather be golfing,
But my son
Has me caught up in defending him
While making sure
I am true to my friends, too.

This sucks,
Being pulled in two different directions,
The father-son bond unbreakable,
The tribal connections to other parents,
Showing my weakness for “show.”
I wish I could just tee one up, right now.

Perspectives: 200/365

Jeffrey Holmes (Anesthesiologist, Music Friends of Sports)

Take a deep breath,
Start counting.

That’s it.

Perspectives: 199/365

Mark Dawson (Mushroom Grower, Eight Bars Parent)

Some of us
What to grow weed.

Too controversial for me…

Truth is,
I don’t really care about this sports thing.

Too ridiculous for me…

Maybe we should,
Grow vegetable inside.

I’ll make that suggestion.

At Least It Felt Good?

It was about an hour in before
I started hearing the voices,
Goggins, Hritz, Ferriss, Hubba, Reggio,
Each talking their motivational s#*t,
Each getting pushed aside as the laps accumulated.

It was the first run after a winter of pneumonia,
After the disarray of basketball,
After the excitement of baseball, and
The welcome of pre-retirement practice,
AKA, summer vaca…

The track was the same,
Sixteen laps to a mile,
The old guy with short shorts was still
Teaching old ladies and sounding as if he
Was of the Wink Martindale of kickboxing.

The shoes were new,
Fresh, right out the box,
New Balance, probably about 70% made in the USA,
Which didn’t figure into my purchase,
They just felt good.

So, an hour in,
And the ache of inactivity was upon me,
But the goal was all Clubber, “Pain,”
Because Hritz has been pushing Goggins
And it was time that this aging guy of privelege and avoidance suffered.

The truth is that we all probably go easy
Looking for the economy, the proximity, the most convenient,
I watched a guy wait for a parking spot at Wal-Mart,
The second in its row,
While the third spot was empty as #2 pushed the cart out of the store.

So, an hour in,
The suffering began,
Keep in mind that I was slow, like never had run this slow,
Managing only two laps at a time, then taking a walk break,
Ferriss began suggesting meditation, but I was too far gone for that.

Perhaps though, self-talk is a kind of meditation,
I barked at me for being so lazy,
I encouraged me to keep on going,
I started thinking about the old people down below
And said, I should be more like them for they seemed to not be suffering.

So, an hour in,
Hubba and Reggio, friends, the same
But different, began their ranting about being weak,
Getting old, having lost it,
For awhile I listened, thinking of some comebacks. Nothing worked.

Then, the class below changed,
Two tanned teachers and a slightly younger clientele began their jumping around
Their energy was different, but their schtick was the same as December
When the bug first knocked me down.
I was really suffering, then… and, now…

A buzz on my wrist
Broke my thoughts of new-goal-survival-mode
I looked down to see six-miles down
At an hour and forty-five minutes gone.
Maybe the slowest ever, but back for more challenges.

Perspectives: 198/365

Horace Taylor (Florist, Music Friends of Sports)

My resolve to keep quiet,
My patience with the stupidity,
My understanding of my daughter,

Perspectives: 197/365

Scott Thomson (General Practitioner, Eight Bars Parent)

I’ve checked out,
My new office is great.
The patients have adjusted and
It’s been good for my wife’s yoga studio.
Some of my patients
Have joined her classes, so we are getting
Paid twice.

The business of medicine…