My memory may be errant here, but I can’t remember a single time while growing up in a small town that I heard anyone say they worked, “To make money.”
Way back then, the most common responses to “Why do you do what you do?” were “To make ends meet,” or “It pays the bills,” or “This is what I always wanted to be.”
And we supported our locals. We’d never head to a chain store to buy groceries. Cereal and milk cost a bit more at Gilliland’s Market, but that’s where we bought it. If you couldn’t find what you needed at Jim Miller’s, you didn’t really need it.
Jim would say, “I make enough for us to take a couple weeks off and go some place we’ve never been.”
The other day, I got a call from a woman representing Blue Cross/Blue Shield telling me that I could get my prescriptions cheaper by driving nine miles to a chain pharmacy. I said, “Nope.” She asked, “But why?” “Because at Saugatuck Drug Store, Sarah, Mark, Kelly and their staff are our friends.”
No one at some chain is going to carry on a conversation with me about the upcoming NCAA Tournament and how my brackets are doing, or about how our dog is getting along without his pal who used to play with her, or how our daughter’s teaching’s going, or how great Julie looks after her illness, or, or, or.
When I leave, they don’t say, “Have a nice day.” They say, “Say hi to Julie!”
When I was a kid, my mother used to laugh and tell people, “Jackie hates money.” That little kid knew why.
What’s 45 got to do with all this? Only a culture that reveres money above community, profit above people, could choose him to lead.
Enough. Let’s get to some fun, and fill out our brackets. Then watch them implode in the first round.
After Filling Out the Brackets
Each round sends teams home
to “I thought you might win
that one.” The winners head
back to practice and a hotel.
What could be more American?
There is no Good Samaritan
to pull the losers up from
their ditch. And tomorrow
the sun will rise and the moon
will rise and my grandfather
would be standing along
the assembly line tightening
three bolts every five seconds.
My wife and I have made a
terrarium and are pretty sure
we’ll make more. Now there are
sixteen teams left. Three I picked
are still hanging to the thread
of their seeding and we need
to do a better job of insulating
around the back door. And
the basement is cold. We love
working in the basement, all
that ground around us. You
can often be who you are
in a basement. It’s snowing.
It’s snowing and I’m putting
I oiled each Spring when I
played shortstop more than
60 years ago. “Keep the ball
in front of you,” my father taught.
“On a lousy hop, let it hit you
Published in Aethlon: The Journal of Sport Literature
Workshop on March 23 at Grace Episcopal Church, Holland, MI
Jack will lead this workshop, sharing approaches to Writing Personal History at Grace Episcopal Church in Holland, Michigan. Time 10-1:30. Contact the church to sign up.
D. R. James’s collection Surreal Expulsion (The Poetry Box)is dedicated “To all the victims of gun and military violence throughout the world, especially the far too many young people murdered, maimed, and traumatized in, of all places, their schools.” David has sent the book to be part of an installation sculpture at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School.
Kelly Fordon’s new collection, Goodbye Toothless House (Kattywompus Press) is, to paraphrase Gloria Whelan, relentless and unsparing in giving voice to all trapped behind an idyllic facade.
In April, Salmon Poetry in Ireland will publish Robert Fanning’s new book Severance, a linked collection of poems that follows two escaped marionettes! In the words of Peter Markus, “Prepare to be undone, unhinged, unstrung by the strange song that is this book.”
Shea Tuttle is one of the three editors of Can I Get A Witness?: Thirteen Peacemakers, Community Builders, and Agitators for Faith and Justice. (Eerdmans) Among the 13 are Mahalia Jackson, Cesar Chavez, Daniel Berrigan, Dorothy Day, Yuri Kochiyama, and William Stringfellow.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Click here to subscribe to receive Jack’s poems and news in your inbox.
Click here for Jack’s entire collection, In Time — poems for the current administration.