Category: Family

so I went to a wedding tonight… (longread, semi rambling)

so I went to a wedding tonight… (longread, semi rambling)

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
man and woman kissing under sunset
Photo by Asad Photo Maldives on Pexels.com

(1)
I must admit I had all this weird anxious energy today, anxiety over seeing family? I suppose, I could not explain it to myself and then after much self inspection I just let it go, this was not my wedding after all, and frankly it is only a cousin (whom I love and watched grow up quite literally so don’t get me wrong about relation), I like to pride myself on preparation, or I tell myself that, so as usual I was doing some last minute scrambling today, things I had planned.. but… eh… had not quote gotten to as of yet, so about an hour before I had to leave I decided to get my ducks in a row, being the semi strange artistic type (wrapped in the guise of everyday guy) I eschew greeting cards and write something personal regardless if it will be read or tossed for the cashola enclosed in the envelope, I have seen and attended enough affairs to see how the cards come in, and how many of the same thing pass through, I want to be memorable, for at least a slice of this life, so I give it a try, I can not hand write letters.. well, I CAN but my handwriting requires translation, it is horrendous to say the least, so I need to type things out, (and also this poem if you recall, part of my gift to the lucky couple as well as some mo-net), I do not use my home printer too often, so perhaps it might be lacking in TLC… or any C, but of course the thing starts with this grinding noise, I start to sweat and my temp is rising, I panic, I want to scream, something is wrong here… and I do not have time for this (the realization that this could have been avoided if I didn’t wait until the last minute is not yet a humorous thought to me as it is now writing this), I open every door, blow out the sensors with one of those air thrower can things, and nothing… DOA printer, I can’t just buy some dumb card… I just… can’t! I recall I have a another printer, sort of shoved in a corner like so much a wallflower, it should work, I think, I hope, I pray to the inkjet gods (they exist, their temple is Staples), so I hook the badboy up and plug in the USB cable with trepidation, the seas parted, the light of one thousand lights shone down, puppies cuddled with kittens, and magically, with great glee my printer queue was emptied and my ears were treated to the sweet whir whir of an inkjet head purring back and forth, ah, crisis averted, my words will be delivered and all will be right with the world (in truth I used fancy parchment looking/feeling paper to print my poem on and it jammed a few times, but that is quite a boring detail so I’ll exclude it), so, poem and personal note in hand (and cashier’s check) I was all set to go.

(2)
I had to drive my folks up to the gig, they are up there in the age race now and do not drive at night usually, and my mom does not drive at all anymore actually, no big deal, they have done enough for me over the years (hello diapers, they got me there for now) that Driving Mr and Mrs Daisy parents is the least I can do, as I said earlier I like to plan, I also like to not be a slave to GPS and know where the heck I am going, oy, I forgot the little address card for the place on the back of which I scribbled (in my pictogram handwriting) the directions, it is a pretty straight shoot but… there is comfort in the paper you wrote all this down on, no problem, cool, I got this, I memorized the directions (because I am such a head case), I just hope my memory is solid, as it turns out my memory served me well, I still must admit my self doubt in the whole thing, I would rather have the life vest when sailing the ocean, but… I’m not in the ocean and honestly I could pull over and google the damn place (easy to say now when I am out of non man non embarrassment mode), so we arrive, Valhalla Lake Club, never heard of it, never been, a really nice part of the state (you know, the Garden state, damnit), seriously we have some sections of Jersey that people would not believe, and heck I am a bad steward for my state for not knowing every inch and cranny, either way, no valet, we are waiting there, the minivan in front is doing all sorts of things, we can’t pass by on the driveway as it is too narrow, wtf are these people doing ? minutes seem like hours in these circumstances, plus I have no idea what the parking situation will be like, I start to get frustrated, minutes pass, thoughts run wild trying to figure out what the hell is going on with these people in front of me, thankfully no one is behind me, that would have upped the ante and I surely might have honked the horn, tick tock tick tock, wtf is taking so long? and then it hits, life with a lesson interjects, the minivan lowers like in a rap video, and a gentleman is escorted out in a wheel chair, if there ever was a court case for patience and a jury to convict, it was this, I was glad I relaxed the temptation to honk, I mean really, how was that ten minutes of my life real pressure? or even worth a worry for a second, I must remember that, lesson received good earth.

(3)
the rest was standard fare, not knowing where to stand, where to sit, the club members who were enjoying the day on the lake were out enjoying the day on the lake, it seemed odd, all these dressed up folks and on the periphery having a day at the beach (lake) as it were, granted they have probably seen this show before, clearly the place needs to do this as part of their business model and probably helps keep membership prices lower, at some point, some of the members seemed interested and some seemed non plussed, as did those at the wedding proper, I kind of enjoy the awkwardness in moments now, not personally, but observing same gives me some weird pleasure, seeing life interacting I suppose, weddings are strange now, growing up there was clear religious definition, this was more just celebration of the union outside of any religious overtones or circumstance, ‘readings’ by a couple of relatives, bad poetry (sorry, I am a critic), and some other well intention-ed stuff that sounded like children banging on pots and pans to this jaded literary ear, I admit I am a snob at times when it comes to that, I try to see and hear the every-man aspect of things, but I just can’t all the time, I am just not that, we are what we are, so readings aside there were vows, and stories by the ‘pastor’ (well, he is really a friend of the groom/bride chosen to reside on the moment), my cousin and her mate are truly in love, I have been to many weddings, I have seen love in many forms (some I would wish to un-see from the internet but this is not a time for that), they glowed when together, I will not lie and say it brought a tear to my eye, I could perceive it, I could feel it emanating from them, I know it because I had that once, when love is easy, and just there, like the warm sun in the morning, this is where logic fails me, and faith takes over, or hope, or both, I feel the dream again, was this supposed to be me at some point? was this my dream? I am lost in the moment, no need to video this, I am here in this, really experiencing the moment, and I feel happiness and joy for them.

(4)
the reception phase, the worst part, I kind of liked the mix of the cocktail hour, no set pieces, a few food options (excellent calamari by the way), the bar cleared out after fifteen minutes so I could grab an amstel, we are outside by a lake in the breeze, what can beat that? now we are inside, cozy place, cool lighting, is that really the dance floor? this makes me feel the most isolated, I do not like the music, the boom boom typical tunes are just not me anymore (or ever), they are antithetical to everything I enjoy, I used to be that floor devil ripping up the dance moves, but I have zero interest in that now, and I do not want to pretend anymore, I don’t want to pretend for anyone, I am not unhappy at all, I am taking it all in, I am truly happy for my kin but the whole wedding thing, this whole wedding thing, I have been there and back again, seen it, done it, seen it better, done it better, what’s the point? I am truly happy for my cousin, but in this microcosm I just don’t get the whole slavery to the same thing, the same wedding tropes, I get it, it is probably me, I would have been much happier if after the ceremony they said strip down and everyone jump in the lake, paddle-board, kayak, sit by the fire-pit and shoot the shit… that’s more real to me, does not make it right, and regrettably is not good for the older generation who we must venerate because we are soon them, but I yearn for something different, even if, even if… this was my dream at some point, so who am I to suggest what they should do, at some point that dream was mine, meet the girl of your dreams in college, date for nearly a decade, become husband and wife, have kids… it all sounds familiar and now so foreign to me, I had the girl, I had the life, and then it all crumbled, and here I am, enjoying filet mignon (rare) at my younger cousin’s wedding, where did things go wrong ? or did they at all? I imagined her here with me, sharing this with her, as I expected to share everything with her forever, but that is gone, and maybe that showed on my face, because it is certainly what is in my heart, but again, I am an optimistic person, a happy person, but the celebration tonight felt so foreign to me, I just felt like an alien among people I knew, even my brother who I thought looked like a buffoon, but he is engaged and has found a mate, so who is the fool.

(5)
I drove my folks home, interesting conversations when they are both tipsy but also not so much as they are losing their edge of mind. and this leads me to this, this post, all scrambled out right now write now…

wrote all this just now, first draft, I’ll revisit it tomorrow, but it is close to accurate…

thoughts from the Porch…

thoughts from the Porch…

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
action activity boys colors
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4.27.2019 (on going series from, my porch)

I sit here in that little nook of my porch, the corner where the porch meets the wall, kind of tucked behind the Japanese maple I planted so many years ago, after so many failures, after the birch was gone, the one I grew up with, that now seems like lore, captured only in old photographs, but here I am behind the tree once more, yesterday was a day of beating rain, the type that assaults and holds you prisoner, the storm has passed and moved on, out into the ocean now, along with the wild winds that carried, this makes the sun, even at this late hour, quite welcome to my skin, the sky is quite blue, just a couple of strange cloud formations here and there, more like disembodied puffs of smoke, I find myself mesmerized by how the breeze waves and sways the upper branches of the trees in the fading light, illuminates every crack and cranny in between, there must be a party across the street, a child’s birthday should I guess, they have a whole array of blow up landscapes, slides, and a castle, I think, but their fence is rather quite tall, so I can only enter a suppose of the all, better to yet, let my imagination earn it’s rent in this old head, I never saw such wonders at a local birthday party in my day, not to complain, I realize it is all quite relative of course, I am sure kids of today would not be so enamored by a roller rink, the ground round, or a crown from some fast food joint, the kids across the way are very loud, but honestly I don’t mind the sound, a reminder of where we all once were, living among pure wonder of the world, free of daily encumberment, I pause, can we ever put that good genie back in the bottle? And what of our three wishes, would they be even remotely the same?

“Captain Underpants! Captain Underpants!”

one of the little girls exclaims, I have no idea what it means but she is certainly enthusiastic about it, and there is an impromptu chorus sung of “We Are The Champions”, it strikes me as amazing to consider that children of that age (9-12 perhaps?) know this song, but I must pinch myself and realize they are grown in the internet age, where discovery is merely an instant away, sharing of art and song is merely a question of getting the suggestion, something 40 years old can be as relevant as something 40 minutes old, with both gone and wiped in another moment, or preserved, or forgotten.

This makes me wonder ,or perhaps more truthfully regret, this scene, will never be mine, I am nearly past the point where children might become a foregone non-conclusion, like everything else I do, maybe I have thought too much into it, planning, worrying, fearing, circumstance building, rather than seizing the living of my life, of course my logical mind can always rationalize, what is the point? They will all die, just as everything does, but I argue with myself, does that mean we simply give up? Or surely try to extract every ounce from this life we possibly can, until the canister of effort is driven empty or fate decides to drop in for that ultimate visit, I think, well, I want to will myself to be, to grab such fruit that I can, from that wisest tree, oh such, in this shortest span, I search for the strength and will of man immortal. (and I lay down my pen).

Music:

Taylor Deupree – Dreams of Stairs

the master of ambient of my generation, this is pretty minimal but not too artsy minimal, it reminds me of sitting outside and letting the breeze wash over me, trying to become one with the landscape I am provided, and the life I am granted.

All likes, comments, recipes for chicken are all appreciated… as is your view now, I bow to you, the reader, thanks.

reminiscing, and nature/nurture

reminiscing, and nature/nurture

by David Koblentz ♥ 2 Comments
silver colored microphone
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Music needed for this post (listen and repeat):

Gene Krupa Orchestra – Moonlight Seranade

this brings me back to days of my youth, my father had a “provisions” route back in the day, and when I was off from  school I went to work with him, in essence a provision route worked thusly, my dad (with me in tow) would travel to the meat processing plants and supply warehouses in Elizabeth and Newark NJ, pick up the raw product (whole briskets, fresh chop meat, huge wheels of cheese, snack products, fries, deli salads, condiments, you name it), and then deliver them to local bars, taverns, restaurants, and yes, the occasional strip club (we’ll get to that detail), remember there was no Costco or Restaurant Depot, it was a good business from the turn of the century forward but of course it was phased out by progress like many things, my dad had this big yellow truck, it was like driving around with the mayor of every town, I swear he knew everybody, smiling and waving like we were in a parade as he drove, he knew all the cops, all the weird locals in all the bars, “Hey Freddie K!” was just this accepted mantra, what did I know, I was a kid, I wish I was more astute or paid more attention, the amount of inspiration for character study was astounding then, some of the experiences seem so strange now that I recall them to write in these words, the smell of bars as the sunlight first hits the witness wood floors, a sort of mix of barf, beer, mold and pine cleaner evaporating, you could see dust particles floating upwards in the light, questioning drunk eyes watching, walking into a strip club before they open as an eleven year old and my only want was a quarter to play the latest video game, I am not sure why but strip clubs and bars always had the latest/newest video game cabinets back in the day, we are talking early 80’s so video games were new, hell I remember Street Fighter coming out and freaking out over it (although I am admittedly a Mr. Do man), seeing the help (ahem, strippers) getting ready (into their outfits), pinching my cheeks as I was so darn cute, but I paid it no mind, it just was, I remember Cheeques in Linden had the best damn hamburgers ever, well, they should as my dad was delivering fresh chop meat direct from Magnolia Beef, where I would see things made, you know, meat parts literally being ground down in front of me, half dead whole animals on hooks being pushed around to the various processing stations, I still remember the cold smell of dead meat, the places were cold, really cold, my dad and the workers had these white coats, and then there was the  sound of the hamburger patty machine, ka thunk ka thunk ka thunk ka thunk, and then paper slapped between the patties, then a case is made, rolled to the bottom and this crazy wire tie machine thing would seal the box with two ties, and then we would pack them in the truck for delivery that day, learning to use a hand truck was second nature, a wonder all these memories, someone might look at me now and see none of this, a poet, a writer, a philosopher, a nerd, who cut his teeth in the bowels of urban central new jersey’s blue collar belly, I wonder how it shaped me, or was I already there…. hum?!?

Lyrics to the song, poetry if you ask me…

“I stand at your gate and the song that I sing is of moonlight
I stand and I wait for the touch of your hand in the June night
The roses are sighing a Moonlight Serenade
The stars are aglow and tonight how their light sets me dreaming
My love, do you know that your eyes are like stars brightly beaming?
I bring you and I sing you a moonlight serenade
Let us stray till break of day in love’s valley of dreams
Just you…“

Just you. Just you.

Watching the death of a generation…

Watching the death of a generation…

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
adult affection baby child
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“generations”

so, the wave has begun
the first domino has fallen
a generation to come –
to an end.
I have seen the wave coming
for some time
off on the horizon
off in that inevitable ocean
but so soon crashing upon the shore
this is the way of things
for we are mere pillars
of rock hewn of sand
drawn down and back into the surf
from which we once rose
in and out the flow
of this life,
we pretend
to have some modicum of control
ever looking at that horizon
and the coming waves
as they come for me
surely, some day

notes:  for a while now I know a certain portion of my family is at the cliff, at the precipice of that final step, it is a generational thing, I have been admittedly lucky that death has not visited my doorstep too often, my grandfathers both died before I was two, my grandmothers died at advanced ages not suddenly, that is pretty much it, but now… it is only a matter of time where I fear (know) they will be dropping like flies, I can not imagine what it is like for my parents who have lost friend after friend over the past couple of years, death is not a fickle beast, you can do all you want but she still comes for you whenever she wants, my folks are not in great shape, or of particularly long DNA stock but they are around to witness the deaths of all their friends, it is a strange thing, one we all do not want to imagine or even live in, but it is always there,the horizon seems far but is always approaching.  So this poem is about that, my uncle who is gone now, some months, he was an intellectual in such a way that he ordered no funeral or even memorial, I understand that from a logical/scientific perspective, but maybe those things are more for the living than the dead… a moment in time to bring together a family to remember they are indeed family, maybe even if just for a moment, and perhaps bonds can be reborn, or remade, or started anew as the younger ones in the family are transitioning into the elders and having their own children, the conveyor belt runs better with connectivity, and that requires time set aside to be together… just a thought or thoughts…

analysis blackboard board bubble
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I know, not my usual Saturday lighter musings, and the weekends are where posts go to die, I don’t care, I post what is on my mind, maybe it is because I had to wake up @ 5:30am today to go to work, Sam (the dog) gave me that look like “really dude? you are never up this early”, and of course she’s right, starbucks lasted until about 6pm then I passed out, back up again and writing this, so maybe my mind isn’t quite the same as usual, that’s ok, sometimes you gotta’ shake the tree and see what happens.

Music????  sure… not that you asked but damn I am a persistent mofo pushing what I love…

Shot of Love (acoustic) – King’s X

silhouette photography of man and woman
Photo by Gabriel Bastelli on Pexels.com

Simple and sweet, the vocals are just so friggin good, if you like 3 part harmonies and the Beatles.. well, this should be up your alley (except Doug has a better voice than any of the Beatles individually, I know blasphemy…).  My cousin Renee worked in the city @ the time and sent me the CD with this track on it along with a signed poster, that had to be 1994, it made my year (thanks cuz!), and later I got to meet them many many times over the years, great peeps.

daily meditation #2…

daily meditation #2…

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
light landscape nature sky
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Tune for this… Sounds from the Ground “Wicked Flow”

I sat there, in too much obviousness, sometimes when you are trying to meditate, or clear your mind, you try to hard, in fact you try, that is the problem, there is the confine of time, I get it, I am the same, I have this confined space to get into my right mind during my lunch break, I like to think of music as a trigger, to allow my mind to linger and then fade into the background, I did not do a good job of it today, I was thinking about an upcoming wedding, a young cousin, the same age when I fell madly in love without the groundwork I have now to understand and worship the ground, I thought I might dedicate a poem to them, some wisdom, from me, the fool, but certainly weathered and known, of course I will cut a check to them as is custom but I would rather do something memorable outside of candelabras and the usual like… I wrote this, perhaps a start, it was my thought at the moment, in the moment, so, why not…

love is
two stones in a brook
where over
the water
perfectly flows
shared experience
coincided time
fate in a window
of all that could have ever been
in billions of ever gone and since
two stones in a brook
side by side

notes…. I hope it makes sense to them, or maybe the ramblings of an older man who may understand or may be reaching for once what was, and perhaps what will be, once again, I hope

observations from the porch…

observations from the porch…

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

(my series is over a year old now, I’m so proud, well, I was glad to survive the winter, and still write through it, to be fair it was an easy winter by all standards)

beautiful beauty blue bright
Photo by James Wheeler on Pexels.com

I must readily admit that the visuals this evening, are… well… not particularly inspiring, my neighbor must have guests as cars line the street announcing there is a party at that location, there is no raucous sounds, and this is not some holiday I know of, perhaps a birthday or anniversary I suppose, what dominates my eyes is the lines, the data and power lines running perpendicular and parallel held up with power poles planted, the human string section of technology, like sign posts of humanity, at least the buds on trees have begun to poke, so easy to spot upon what seems fruitless spines for ages now, but not much else is stirring, so I decide to concentrate on what is.
I close my eyes and this does provide, a requiem of sound…

in this meeting place, where certainly man has dominion, but forever, nature waits, quite benevolent in a sense but still base elemental, waiting for the slip of one little finger, holding back from the dam, through that crack will purge the world of man again, for the dam is forever cracking, we just take solace in our dominance no matter how ultimately precarious.
robins engaged in an endless twitter battle, at times I think I can distill some meaning, perhaps glean a sentiment or two, but I am a reaching fool, for there is no rosetta stone for these fellows, the distant train horn sounds distant but I actually know exactly where the crossing is, the horn does not recall the slick silver boxes of now, it is bathed in nostalgia, or perhaps the filter of my mind, the sound is more of dreams, or movies, an eruption of steam bellows rise, and that gutteral scream of a great whistle, the veritable choo choo, the supreme romance in that, of leaving the station,
either being left behind or now onward to your destination.

Simple Sunday Thoughts…

Simple Sunday Thoughts…

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
midsection of man holding hands over white background
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“inspire”

might I be the knife
to pierce that veil of night
walking through this daily life
lead others into that good light

 

photo of man standing on rock near seashore
Photo by Jacub Gomez on Pexels.com

“speculation”

is that you, in the next car?
or in another land
another shore
maybe just within my reach
or not near at all
but never far
from my thoughts
never far, my love

notes… sometimes I like simple, especially as I get older, I could get all weird and technical on you, or esoteric in my writing, but I am really enjoying the simple things more these days, be it the sun, the moon, the dance of a squirrel, there is the miracle of life all around us, I’m not saying be unaware of the dark corners of this world, just don’t forget the amazement around you in even the mundane, at least that is what I am trying to do and bring.  (I wrote these poems on 1/18, Friday)

Music tonight? thanks for asking…

Minus the Bear – My Time (live, sort of acoustic but amazing)

When the parents are away…

When the parents are away…

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
women holding shot glasses
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“house party”

the adults have left the room
the logic and morals swoon
a fever sweeps the floor
criminality in personality untamed
raid the liquor cabinet they say
the freedom of a free pasture
the parents are away

invite everyone you know
you’re in control
they invite everyone they know
that control relents and runs
out of control
but you have never been this popular
amazing what you will take
to feel like the king
even if
you do not notice the fleeting
those who praise you now
and drop beer cans on the lawn
raid the drawers of your mom
leave stains on the floor
smoke indoors
but for a moment you are king
with your parent’s things.

notes… lighter fare for a weekend, a stormy one at that (well at least here!)… have we all done the house party thing when the parents went away? I did, just once, and it was enough, certainly bad planning as I had to call the cops on myself!  yech…  so many moons ago, but I do remember those times quite well. I wrote this one back on 12.8 because I saw a beer can on a lawn on the drive home… the randomness of the muse is amusing.

The composition of joy…

The composition of joy…

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
adorable autumn baby blur
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“might I come to understand
the composition of joy
like an alchemist
to turn the basest of thought
to that of golden bliss”

“the exposition of joy”

I had a good amount of time on my hands this morning (quite unexpectedly), as my usually terrible commute was especially more awful this morning (to the Nth degree), for the life of me I do not understand why an accident @ 1:40 in the morning impacts my commute @ 9am… clearly something is off, but anyway, enough with my complaining, as I said I was pondering the world, our earth, the pearl of this solar system as it were, looking out at my not so remarkable field of vision, and just a feeling of calm passed over me, as I watched some random flags flowing on some random bridge bisecting the turnpike, all the infinite things that had to occur in the billions of years of this universe for this moment to become a possibility, is this bliss? No. But what is? I wonder about the material composition of joy (if there is such a thing). We know we have a limited time parking our butts on this sphere but are we aware? What is the DNA of joy? Is it walking outside on a rolling grey day? I say “rolling grey” because that is how the clouds look right now, almost as if we were on the floor of the ocean, looking up, and watching the waves roll over, in some way we are under that ocean even if only atmosphere, the ocean of air, is this accepting fate, feeling my place in this great debate of atoms ? or am I swimming in waters with too much depth, after all I am just sitting here, in my car, on my way to work, the most common of things, but how many would trade places with me?  right now?  so surely I should have joy, in all this, in all things, regardless of the point, or my feelings, I need to channel this, because what is the alternative?

Notes: this was written back on wednessday, I had off today for the first time in almost two weeks, so, yes I was busy and neglecting my little corner of the multiverse here lately.  So anyone who read this, thanks, I hope it helps or inspires or at least makes your third toe itch. thanks.