Saturday, June 25, 2016

Zepata cont'd; Racc-u-pine; KD Kat and Festoon high-rise hang out; Paying respects; Quick as a wink; String theory; Little Mary

The Adventures of Zepata and El Dayo
Part 1

The sunlight catches the tip
of Zepata's nose
A wry smile escapes his otherwise
stern countenance

Zepata has had victory today
and has ridden back up into the hills
of his friendly district
the peasants offering him their
chickens, daughters, homes

But Zepata smiles his appreciation
and rides his stallion on
The faithful mount
The horse, bearing not only Zepata
but enough ammunition for a week's standoff

A steed worth to him
all the chickens, daughters and homes
of May-Hee-Ko
for this steed El Dayo
Knows all yet Dayo tells not

El Dayo has gotten Zepata out
of many a fix
saved his life so many times
Neither Zepata nor Dayo
have enough fingers and toes
to count
Especially El Dayo
Zepata smiles broadly

Dayo only asks for a friendly pat
and a bucket of oats a day
Oh how well Zepata knows what
the chickens, daughters and homes
always tendered require
Maintenance that is what

So homeward it is
 Zepata and Dayo climb
up the mountainous route known only to Zepata
and his faithful compadre
The Federalis ho ho
They never find

Night falls and Zepata finds the escarpment
where his small campfire will not be seen
in the valley below
hunted as he always is
Dayo is turned loose for the night
He never wanders far

Next night there will no scrub
and no creek-ets
Zepata love creek-ets
They put him to sleep
But in the high country Zepata
must call home
There are no creek-ets

Morning breaks
Zepata works the kinks from his
war-worn body as he painfully rises from
his blanket roll
Dayo he calls
Daylight come and
Me wan go home

From a distance comes the sound
of thundering hoofbeats
Man and beast soon to be re-united
Another ascension past peasants and
their chickens, daughters and homes
On to where his rude hut and
Real Woman await

The woman who knows she has Zepata
The woman who knows how to please Zepata
The woman
She awaits her hero
May-Hee-Ko's saviour
It will be good again this time




from the archives:

Festoon Fox and KD Kat hang out high above the living room.


Paying respects

Photo taken by LVD II on Memorial day 2010

Two Raccoon editor friends
(one shown below with another four-legged friend)
have trekked to Washington DC -
Bruce below very recently -

and not at my behest,
have voluntarily in their
 respectful hearts

visited the Arlington grave of
WW II veteran Leslie V. Dix
our father
about whom the Raccoon has spoken
and they have read.

Bruce Hopper, patriot

Walt Lohman, patriot, starred, marched in a Waukesha Memorial day parade
in his Knights Templar uniform. X years ago.

Walt at breakfast with me at Dave's.

Bruce, outdoorsman, long dist. bicyclist


Quick as you can wink an eye


String Theory

I have to believe a Beethoven
string quartet is not unlike
the elliptical music of gossip:
one violin excited
to pass its small story along
to the next violin and the next
until, finally, come full circle,
the whole conversation is changed.
And I have to believe such music
is at work at the deep heart of things,
that under the protons and electrons,
behind the bosons and quarks,
with their bonds and strange attractors,
these strings, these tiny vibrations,
abuzz with their big ideas,
are filling the universe with gossip,
the unsung art of small talk
that, not unlike busybody Beethoven,
keeps us forever together, even
when everything’s flying apart.

"String Theory" by Ronald Wallace from For Dear Life. © University of Pittsburgh Press, 2015

from the Cong. archives


Happy upcoming 4th!

Those of us who reside downtown
or do business down  here
are now well-used to the dust kicked up
by the construction on Main Street

Here at the Odd Fellows we are taking
advantage of gritty conditions
by practice our soft shoe routines.

"Summer lemonade"


Rory gets Konged on the head

Rory Dix-Willard of Appleton WI has her own Kong brush now 
as the word of the amazing grooming tool continues to spread.
She awaits word on what her real last name is to become 
after the marriage of her combined caretakers, 
Erin Dix and Ben Willard on July 3rd.
More on that later.

Saturday, June 18, 2016

Crotch rocketry not a science; Roadshow; Vicks and violets; Twilight time; Pigeon watcher

here it comes

Soon, too soon
the testosterone laden
or perhaps secretly UN-laden bikers
will take to the downtown re-opened streets
these morph-balls with their seemingly
unenforceable and yet illegal decibel-spewing machines

(The police have more important things to do
than sit downtown listening for the noise...)

Hey some say
it's downtown
get used to it
or as in a former downtown alderman's retort:
'If you don't like it

But move we shan't. We're not to be out-sung:
If you don't like it
don't run for office in this peaceable town.
'Allons enfants de la patria'
The day of muffled crotch rocketry has arrived!

Attn:  Mayor, Common Council
All protectors of the Common Weal



The Five Points and points immediately east and west
is being renovated this summer.
It s a beautiful thing to see unfold from our
Odd Fellows windows

Not too many years ago during our tenancy here
artist Wis Guthrie divined his second Les Paul guitar
and displayed it outside these windows, 
on this now repaved and outside-seating area- 
enlarged street.

Today that just about-completed central site where Wis sits
in his latter year electric scooter -
the visage out our window is this:


My Aunt Raises Violets from Africa

All those loose threads
from her sewing, trailing
off bobbins toward Chattanooga,
Nashville, Myrtle Beach, Niagara
Falls. She snapped them at the hem
with her teeth, those worn
hitching posts.
She never learned to drive.
Didn’t leave Grandma’s
yard for thirty years.
Her Singer just hummed.
She never stopped wearing
that engagement ring he gave her at twenty,
measuring time by how deep
it sank into her finger
even after he died, still her fiancé,
an old man living with his mother.
We only whispered his name.
At night, after the Bible verses,
she’d coat herself with vapor rub,
thick and Vicks blue,
then dial up the DJ
who knew her voice,
yearning for the smooth of Englebert
soothing her into bed
back to back with Grandma.
When I spent the night,
we’d tend the violets
lined like bassinets
along the north;
double lavenders, crystal
stars, angel blues, pink
persuasion. So careful.
We never touched their velvet
not even the undersides.
We just turned them each day,
their faces straining
toward the sun.

"My Aunt Raises Violets from Africa" by Janice Moore Fuller

Don't I just wish
I had all the beautiful cobalt blue glass jars
my mother emptied, rubbing the salve
on my chest when she thought I might
be coming down with a cold.
Phew!  Flannel rags took on a new meaning then.


Twilight time (The Platters)
(The golden 1950's)


KD Kat, the pigeon hunter

'sharpens' her claws on her post, then...
were it not for window glass
all hell would break loose
pigeon feathers everywhere


Coming next,
Bambi Airstream trailer and ice chest
Other containers of note

Saturday, June 11, 2016

When enough is enough; Kilroy and popsicles; We serve minors; Hideaway - 33 years ago

Al Pacino in The Scent of a Woman

Best acting....EVER

He won the academy award for this role

 See THIS:

And now

You've already seen this
in the Raccoon News:

Rent this movie if you have not seen it.


(See lower left in this picture)

Kilroy was here

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
This article is about the graffiti. For the Styx album, see Kilroy Was Here (album).

Engraving of Kilroy on the WWII Memorial inWashington, D.C.
Kilroy was here is an American popular culture expression that became popular during World War II; it is typically seen in graffiti. Its origins are debated, but the phrase and the distinctive accompanying doodle — a bald-headed man (sometimes depicted as having a few hairs) with a prominent nose peeking over a wall with the fingers of each hand clutching the wall — became associated with GIs in the 1940s.
In the United Kingdom, the graffiti is known as "Mr Chad" or just "Chad", and the Australian equivalent to the phrase is "Foo was here". "Foo was here" might date from World War I, and the character of Chad may have derived from a British cartoonist in 1938, possibly pre-dating "Kilroy was here". Etymologist Dave Wilton says, "Some time during the war, Chad and Kilroy met, and in the spirit of Allied unity merged, with the British drawing appearing over the American phrase."[1] "Foo was here" became popular amongst Australian schoolchildren of post-war generations. Other names for the character include Smoe, Clem, Flywheel, Private Snoops, Overby, The Jeep (as both characters had sizable noses), and Sapo.
Author Charles Panati says that in the United States "the mischievous face and the phrase became a national joke... The outrageousness of the graffiti was not so much what it said, but where it turned up."[2] The major Kilroy graffiti fad ended in the 1950s, but today people all over the world still scribble the character and "Kilroy was here" in schools, trains, and other public areas. The ghost of the recently late Wis Guthrie, local artist and faculty of the Carroll University art department, may have visited the paving project to inscribe his KILROY WAS HERE in the fresh cement poured beneath SRN hdqtrs window, the other night. See his marks in lower left corner

Wis at Wauk. farmers market has a popsicle.

Happy days are here again
This election cycle with Trump and Hillary, sing as indicated
(chord designations inapplicable)

A Note to My Friend Bernie Sanders

By Robert Reich, Robert Reich's Blog
10 June 16

ear Bernie:
I don’t know what you’re going to do from here on, and I’m not going to advise you. You’ve earned the right to figure out the next steps for your campaign and the movement you have launched.
But let me tell you this: You’ve already succeeded.
At the start they labeled you a “fringe” candidate – a 74-year-old, political Independent, Jewish, self-described democratic socialist, who stood zero chance against the Democratic political establishment, the mainstream media, and the moneyed interests.
Then you won 22 states.
And in almost every state – even in those you lost – you won vast majorities of voters under 30, including a majority of young women and Latinos. And most voters under 45.
You have helped shape the next generation.
You’ve done it without SuperPACs or big money from corporations, Wall Street, and billionaires. You did it with small contributions from millions of us. You’ve shown it can be done without selling your soul or compromising your conviction.
You’ve also inspired millions of us to get involved in politics – and to fight the most important and basic of all fights on which all else depends: to reclaim our economy and democracy from the moneyed interests.
Your message – about the necessity of single-payer healthcare, free tuition at public universities, a $15 minimum wage, busting up the biggest Wall Street banks, taxing the financial speculation, expanding Social Security, imposing a tax on carbon, and getting big money out of politics – will shape the progressive agenda from here on.
Your courage in taking on the political establishment has emboldened millions of us to stand up and demand our voices be heard.
Regardless of what you decide to do now, you have ignited a movement that will fight onward. We will fight to put more progressives into the House and Senate. We will fight at the state level. We will organize for the 2020 presidential election.
We will not succumb to cynicism. We are in it for the long haul. We will never give up.
Thank you, Bernie.

Excerpt: SADDLE UP
All this preparation took place in
the first light of day
El Dayo and Mare stand only a yard apart
and the spurs on both Zepata's and Irena's
boots jing-jing in concert as the two
fighters for the downtrodden
march in step to their mounts

Hep Hep
shouts Zepata
Two sinewy legs simultaneously
attain socketage in stirrups
Two sinewy legs simultaneously
arc over the horses' hind quarters

And they are off
A more splendid sight there never was

[From the Zepata series episode 3]


Nov. 11, 1983