Please don't feed the composers

Good news for my friend, Doug Opel, and his inclusion in this year's Petting Zoo, live in NYC!

The idea behind MATA's Petting Zoo was to allow passersby the opportunity to see and hear living composers at work, to experience new music in all its glorious diversity as it is being created. Though it was strange being on display, I have to admit it was a brilliant concept. Many people took time out of their day to stop, listen and converse. New music seldom makes that sort of connection with the general public in my opinion, this was a rare and potent exception.

Congrats, Doug!

See, it's not all poetry here.

Hot, sick and crabby

That sums up my day.

I found another gem of a blog: Ojibraids Go read and enjoy.

“My wings are closed and I cannot fly.”

Woman poet ‘slain for her verse’

SHE risked torture, imprisonment, perhaps even death to study literature and write poetry in secret under the Taliban. Last week, when she should have been celebrating the success of her first book, Nadia Anjuman, was beaten to death in Herat, apparently murdered by her husband.

The 25-year-old Afghan had garnered wide praise in literary circles for the book Gule Dudi — Dark Flower — and was at work on a second volume.

Zero Boss

I'm having a big love-fest over the Zero Boss blog. It's grade A writing and a hoot. Check it out.

And, oh yeah, oral sex causes cancer - yo.

Feeling slackish

Yes, I know I have slacking on the blog. Promise to update after I get through a few major deadlines....

Hope all is well with all of you.

Nice guys and midlife reflection

I've almost turned this blog into a notepad for poem development. I hope it hasn't chased away the poetry phobics among us, but I have been feeling fairly prolific lately. And no, Dave P., it has nothing to do with the career change, which has become another longwinded conversation I am going to withhold for now.

I think I am going through one of those mini midlife crises that occur every few years. They seem to coincide with the darkness, or the impending winter. I loathe cold weather. I complain a lot - no doubt annoying the hell out of everyone around me. I also miss Indiana, on some absurd level, and my family, as crazy as we are.

Last night we had dinner with a friend of Rick's. He is one of those "good guys," the brotherly guy who will change your tire or open the door for you. I like that. Too many men confuse feminism with women wanting to be treated like a buddy. Rather, we just want you to be a decent human. And a woman's definition of decent includes hugging a friend when they need it, opening the door for someone, being there to listen.

For some unfortunate reason, these qualities have been assigned exclusively to women. Fact is, some of the best listeners I know are men.

Getting back to Rick's friend. He is really polite. I have no idea what sort of guy he really is, nor do I care. I can live with the fact that no man or woman is perfect. Yes, perhaps the door opening and respectful listening comes with an agenda. Does that matter?

I am not sure it does.

There's an AA saying that goes, "Fake it til you make it." I think this applies to men trying to navigate the world of women. Okay, so you don't know what every woman wants. You never can know that because none of us want the same thing. There is no game, no prize. Some of us want commitment, but not all of us. Some us may surprise you with our lust. Some of us are damaged, or fragile, or stronger than you once thought.

Point being, and a point made by Rick's buddy last night, coincidently, at the end of the line there is just you and how you treated people (and the world) around you.

My advice - Open the door for her.

So you want to sleep with her. Who's to say she isn't thinking the same thing.