“Davey-Boy Hogg” Tanka 1008

(March 22, 2018)


When Davey Boy Hogg*

let The Media put him

‘out front’ he then gets…


the claim he was ‘just a kid’

changed to then become ‘fair game!’*


  • (Relishing, apparently, his role as electronic media darling, Parkland High School self- and media-appointed spokesman/”activist” senior David Hogg could have basked in the less-visible limelight of “victim” (but when parsed not a “survivor” since he never was near enough to that danger so to accrue the title of television celebrity by right but so-named by false appointment instead) he gave up all portion of “just a kid” status and becomes just another public figure, fair game for any and all commentary as to motives and veracity.  The depth of this young man’s ignorance and his willingness to spout a “party line” without even a passing acquaintance with facts is not surprising considering what passes for truth and honesty among not only popular media but also popular public education.  Welcome to ‘The Talking – not shooting – Gallery,” Davey Boy!)



“Happy Hour*”

(March 22, 2018)


all bar-bellied-up

one-hour water-hose duty

plants say to me cheers!


  • (Mostly container-ized, with a possible frost-zone watch if not actual warning, I decided to go check the repotted and awaiting potting vegetables and herbs now enjoying full Spring sun. We had just had two days of ?rain? so I thought – until I looked at the eaves-catchers rain barrels and buckets – there well might be sufficient moisture on my precious comistibles-in-waiting. Drat! Dry.  Drooping herbs and collards – and I did not even need the first-knuckle finger test to know I had a problem, Houston. Or, rather, my plants so did.  The hose was by the buckets and barrels and, yup, they were unimproved by the scant rain of two days which delivered deluges on both sides of town but not to me.  I drowned those buckets and smaller pre-replanting containers and went to the last surviving big rosemary – which came though a three-quarter size die-off two years ago to regain in many ways its former three-foot height and five-foot circumference.  I should report with new well-worm-pooped soil, but that is fall’s chore, so I drown rose and mary regularly and have a portable screening set-up to discourage squirrels from bathing or digging and planting their own acorns inside.  Sunday I think it will be time to tackle the dead – and dying – side-leaves of the former Lemon Grass hedge, now deforested by give-aways to friends and neighbors: but I have replacements in readiness.  The dry and brown leaves will go into voluntary composting process, the better to host more nightcrawlers, along with coffee grounds begged from others – I drink maybe three cups of the stuff a year – eggshells and banana peels amongst the usual kitchen detritus. But I still keep a weather eye peeled for an Easter Surprise frost or freeze.  April, not March, is my cruel month.

“And, Them ‘Noles* Won, Too!”

My last in-state team

FSU plays ‘Sweet Sixteen!’

Must Pop Corn!


  • (Florida State’s Seminoles’ men’s basketball team, I told my younger “Gator” UF grad brother will beat Florida when they play back in early December, 2017, even though both teams had barely started the 2018 campaigns.  I was unsure if FSU could handle Miami, though.  The ‘Noles knocked off higher-rated Gonzaga – in just the second time the two schools had met in basketball and The ‘Zags were a particular bugaboo for UF cagers all the way back to The Billy Donovan Era – last night almost rather handily late in the second half to make it to The Elite Eight in the 64 (actually 68 but that’s another gripe for later) team national championship tournament.  Even with Boston Celtics legend Dave Cowans playing for FSU one time and I think Heisman Trophy winner Charlie Ward another time, The ‘ Noles have been to the last eight teams standing but three times since the former Girls (OK, Women!) Teacher College became co-ed mid last century!  Michigan will be much more difficult Saturday.  I care not which Florida School – Central Florida, South Florida or The Big Three – wins and wins big, I get a thrill watching well-prepared young people excel: at anything! Go ‘Noles! And, yes, I was an early-round acceptance to attend UF in the mid-winter of 1966, but my nation was having a war and I had the hunch that even a broke-down near-blind guy who could read without moving his lips with each word might get The Marines to let him play.  Sadly – not really but sometimes so – I was right.)