August 7, 2014 Thursday "Toot"

First Words

      …thoughts of an anachronistic, solo pediatrician

                    by Glenn Feole, M.D.

        "Be careful too that the reading of your story makes the melancholy 

        laugh and the merry laugh louder," Cervantes, Prologue to Don Quixote

Contact: ishmaelish36@gmail.com

Blog site: ishmaelish36.blogspot.com

August 7, 2014 Thursday

Sunset No. 1 (paint found on the road)

Chief Complaint: (written on the chart before I go in the room)

     Maura – breathing 

          This was written by my wonderful, out-going, loud, exuberant, cigarette smoking receptionist, Jackie, in Westport.  

Interesting Name:

   "Toot"

Anecdote:

One four year old told me that he wanted the "chomp" vitamins.

     Westport, Connecticut, 1990's

Poetry:

Arc

My seatmate on the late-night flight

could have been my father.  I held

a biography, but he wanted to talk.

The pages closed around my finger

on the spot, and as we inclined

into the sky, we went backwards

in his life, beginning with five hours 

before, the funeral for his only brother,

a forgotten necktie in his haste

to catch this plane the other way

just yesterday, his wife at home

caring for the yellow Lab she’d found

along the road by the olive grove,

and the pretty places we had visited – 

Ireland for me, Germany for him –

A village where he served his draft

during the Korean War, and would like

to see again to show his wife

how lucky he had been.  He talked

to me and so we held

his only brother’s death at bay.

I turned off my reading light,

Remembering another veteran

I met in a pine forest years ago

who helped me put my tent up

in the wind.  What was I thinking

camping here alone?  I was grateful

he kept watch across the way

and served coffee in a blue tin cup.

Lke the makeshift shelter of a tent,

a plane is brought down, 

but as we folded to the ground,

I had come to appreciate

even my seatmate’s breath, large

and defenseless, the breath of a man

who hadn’t had a good night’s rest.

I listened and kept the poles 

from blowing down, and kept 

a vigil from the dark to day.

         by Amy M. Clark

Coup d'essai:

     "I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived,"  Thoreau, Walden, "What I Lived For."

    One of my heroes and role models.  One of the reasons I majored in philosophy…to confront and experience the bigger, deeper issues in this precious life.  

Favorite Musician/song:

Dan Fogleberg, "Hard to Say"

    A ballad of great beauty.

Favorite Book/author:

Michael Connelly, Blood Work

    My favorite mystery writer.  Grabs you from the first word.  Characters you care about.

    (I spent quite some time writing a book about Connelly after reading all of his work, similar to the other books I wrote on Lawrence Block and Patricia Cornwell.  My agent had Connelly call me…we had a nice talk but he firmly declined to have the book published.  I felt like I was talking to Harry Bosch…ha.)

Favorite Movie/DVD:

     "9"
           Incredible animation and graphics.