Hi! This is turning in to one of my favorite new features: snippets from poems we have elected not to share on Owl Chatter. Here are some opening lines:

another face has sprouted in my chest
beastly, that’s me, a super freak
cavorting with your skull in my grasp

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When an artist refers to someone in his or her past, we see that person as a symbol — old love, high school buddy, the girl that got away — we don’t think of him or her as an actual flesh and blood person. But in Bruce’s “Glory Days” that friend who was “a big baseball player back in high school” who “could throw that speedball by you — make you look like a fool, boy,” was a real person. It was Joe DePugh. Bruce and Joe grew up together in Freehold NJ and played Little League ball. Joe was the ace pitcher and Bruce, well, sucked so badly Joe gave him the nickname “Saddie,” reflecting the sad state of his skills.

“Bruce lost this big game for us one year,” Joe recalled years later. “We stuck him out in right field all the time, where you think he’s out of harm’s way. But this important game, we had a bunch of guys missing, and we had to play him.” In the last inning, Saddie dropped an easy fly ball. “Actually, it hit him on the head and we lost the game.”

The two of them ran into each other in a bar, just like it says in the song, and reminisced. “Glory Days” is what came of it.

Joe passed away last Friday at the age of 75. He couldn’t make it in pro ball, and cobbled together a life as a contractor. He often told stories about his times with Bruce. His marriage ended in divorce. He is survived by three brothers, and the rest of us, all of whom are quite familiar with that speedball of his.

Rest in peace, Joe.

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From The Onion:

Man Who Bumped Tesla While Parallel Parking Sentenced To Death

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The other obit that caught my eye today was for Dennis the Menace. Well, Jay North, the actor who played him. Mr. Wilson has been called in for questioning.

North was 73 and his life story had much sadness in it. His mom worked full-time so he was in the care of his uncle and aunt while he was Dennis and they were terribly abusive. He muddled along in show biz after Dennis, but never caught fire. He spent two years in the Navy, honorably, and later worked as a corrections officer in Florida. I remember him as Dennis. It was a decent show for its time.

Rest in peace, Jay.

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I’m cashing my chips in early tonight, boys and girls. Let’s close with this poem by Marjorie Wentworth called “Spring” from today’s Writer’s Almanac. See you tomorrow!

After the rain, outside
the barred windows
of the classroom
tiny black birds
are bathing in puddles
beneath the oak trees.
Dipping into the icy water,
they shake their feathers
with such joy that their song
pulls us from our seats—
out onto the steps
where my students and I
walk into the first sunlight
we’ve felt for days
to watch them dance.

The birds remind me
of the Chinese peasants
I read about in college.
Sitting in the sunshine
on the first day of spring,
after cutting the quilted
clothes they were sewn
into for the long winter,
they gathered outside
to pick fleas from the sour
cotton lining of their jackets
and flick them at each other;
ducking and laughing
in the bright air,
while their children
ran naked into a pond
filled with melting snow.

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