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Casebook Message Boards: Pub Talk: Happy Birthdays, Holidays, Etc.
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Archive through 10 January 2003 | 88 | 01/10/2003 01:16am |
Author: David O'Flaherty Friday, 10 January 2003 - 10:47 am | |
Happy Birthday, Chris--hope you have a great one, and that you have taken the day off! Cheers, Dave I'm going to have that Sammy Hagar song in my head all day
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Author: Jim Jenkinson Friday, 10 January 2003 - 11:39 am | |
There was a birthday boy called Chris Who decided to give alcohol a miss He lasted to lunchtime Then said it's about time To finish the day on the piss. Have a great day Chris Jim
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Author: Monty Friday, 10 January 2003 - 11:49 am | |
Chris T, Happy birthday you old Ex Scouser ! Monty
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Author: Christopher T George Friday, 10 January 2003 - 01:16 pm | |
Thanks guys. Your best wishes are most appreciated. David, I haven't taken the day off but I finished several projects this week, one here at work yesterday and two personal (history) in the past several days, so I can afford to relax a bit today. Jim, thanks for the great poem! I'm still a Scouser, Monty... You may enjoy the following reflections. I AM Age 55 after all so I can afford to be self indulgent!!!! ********* Travelling Backwards on the Marc Train from D.C. to Baltimore I find a seat facing backward, get out headphones to listen to the Beatles' One, "Love Me Do" --all 27 number one hits. Tomorrow I turn 55; only two of four Beatles remain, Paul and Ringo. Spinning disc of my bunny battery-eating CD player relays the songs first heard on scratchy 45s and EPs in Ian Morton's front parlor in Mossley Hill over a generation ago in the Merseybeat boom. Gathering momentum, emerge from the station dark, a cloud of pigeons by Psychological Association HQ switch direction in unison mirrored in windows to the thump of McCartney's bass, Ringo's beat. We ease into the late workday afternoon, tracks full of Acela, Metroliner, VRE trains; a subway train sweeps toward Silver Spring, windows filled with other tired commuters. Cumulus clouds streak late afternoon sky, National Cathedral's towers spike the distance. I munch a Snickers bar as Paul and John scream "I Wanna Hold Your Hand"--D.C. diminishes behind, train yards, backs of factories, swollen lanes of cars; squeals of fans in arenas during their tours, sweep across Anacostia River snow-swollen brown, cars shadow on Rte. 50 bridge. "From Me to You." Paul ten years ahead of me at Dovedale Primary School, John at Quarry Bank High--Lennon initials in desks. In '64, I was the teenage Liverpool correspondent for WCAO Radio: American girls wrote perfumed letters, with locks of hair, smudged orange lips. Chris George was somebody to Bob Mitchum's daughter. School mates wrote back posing as Ringo's cousin. The Cavern, the Sink, the Jacaranda, shop doorway kisses, I was a teenager, confused, the Beatles led the way. Psychedelic shirts and ties, tie-dyed trousers, "You a member of the Rainbow Club or somethin'?" Pub crawling Liverpool's city center with Geoff. I tramp home at 1 AM, quizzed by a plainclothes dick. Now nearly forty years later, sunset oranges the sky as the train emerges from the tunnel to Penn Station, disgorges commuters. "The Long and Winding Road." Christopher T. George *********** The short poem of mine shown at the bottom of the post was written in response to a poem by British poet Andrew Motion posted by Joe Fish in the discussion section at Melic Review. I thought the two poems might be of interest here too. CAUSA BELLI by Andrew Motion [British Poet Laureate] They read good books, and quote, but never learn a language other than the scream of rocket-burn. Our straighter talk is drowned but ironclad: elections, money, empire, oil and Dad. *********** Hi, Joe: Thanks for posting this. I can't make out if it's meant to be censorious about Americans or if Motion's message is something quite different! Joe, I am, as you may know, British born though am now an American citizen so have severely divided loyalties on things British vis a vis things American. :-) In any case, I am not sure the difference is that great between Yanks and Brits as this would appear to make out. CAUSA BUSH, I by Chris George [British-born Baltimore-based Poet & Celebrity] They make bad cooks, eat Francais but never learn cuisine other than bangers and cakes to burn. Compared with Brits, our past's short but steelclad: Clinton, flag, elections, GIs, Bush GW, Bush Dad.
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Author: Brian Schoeneman Friday, 10 January 2003 - 01:55 pm | |
Chris, I'm impressed! Great poetry. Happy B-day, buddy. B
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Author: Christopher T George Friday, 10 January 2003 - 02:46 pm | |
Thanks, Brian. Also if you check out that link for Melic Review above, I'm involved in a discussion about the Beatles and you might various other conversations of interest as well. All the best Chris
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Author: David O'Flaherty Friday, 10 January 2003 - 03:03 pm | |
Chris and Brian, There's also a brief discussion about 'Stirring' at Melic Review--if you're into poetry, that's an online magazine I highly recommend. Back when they also accepted fiction, they took one of my short stories (one of my few acceptances) Cheers, Dave
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Author: Ally Saturday, 11 January 2003 - 08:42 am | |
Happy Belated Birthday to CG. Sorry for the late ...Posts aren't being sent to me and so I am missing some stuff. Anyway hope it was a great and happy one.
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Author: David O'Flaherty Sunday, 19 January 2003 - 11:21 am | |
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Author: Jim Jenkinson Friday, 07 February 2003 - 07:42 pm | |
A belated Happy Burns Night to all you poets out there. And indeed to all you non poets. To reassure my three children in Canada, I'm not away with the excise man. A cowering timerous beastie.
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