I don’t write in a journal everyday, but I have accumulated many entries over the past 50+ years beginning in 1966. Some items evolved into longer works. Among the leftovers little pieces survived. I thought a collection of these with a piece culled from the same date in a past year would make an interesting yearbook. The consistencies and inconsistencies of mind, skipping back and forth across time, provide varied perspectives. It is difficult to remember the context of the past we’ve lived; we also make suppositions about times that predate ourselves.

The few alterations from original drafts were to improve clarity. The worst of my work is not included. There remains enough mediocrity and immaturity to make me feel humble and you feel smart. There are also moments of accidental insight and incidental humor.

Author Stephen Crane referred to his little pieces as pills…apparently they were small and somewhat hard to swallow, but good for you.


Comments Welcome!

Monday, September 14, 2020

My grandfather owned Joe’s Tavern

 

September 14, 2019  (I was 74)

 

My grandfather owned Joe’s Tavern

a three-two beer joint with a few old regulars

He was Croatian but some Serbs were among them

A couple thousand miles from home

can turn enemies into drinking buddies

My Uncle Pete owned the Vene Qua

just up the alley and across Hwy. 169 from Joe’s

The Qua had a hard liquor license

since it was home to the Legion Club

Anyway after Sunday Mass my cousin Peter

would have to clean up the place

It was an Iron Range mining town

One time I must have been 11 and Peter 13

I was with him sweeping up

(I refused to empty and rinse the spittoons)

After restocking the coolers

we would sample a recipe

from Uncle Pete’s Bartender’s Guide

Peter decided we’d try a martini

gin vermouth ice and an olive easy

It was so bad we tossed it and ate the olives

burnt our lips and couldn’t figure out

why they were so popular in the movies

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