Roadside Poetry (updated) The little red sequential fencepost signs sponsored by Burma Shave cream with clever and whimsical rhymes out on the pre-interstate highways of mid-century America. In her room Tilting a broom Learning nuclear physics Watching on Zoom. BURMA SHAVE There would be four or five one by three-foot signs posted off the highwayContinue reading “The little red signs that made you smile. For at least a mile.”
Just a close shave. Darn! My electric shaver is broke. The head and foil has come apart. I thought I had another to replace it with but discovered I do not. This got me to thinking. What if I grew a beard? I tried it once or twice when in college. The miscellaneous scruff IContinue reading “That was a close shave.”
From the time I could first remember, my dad cut my hair. From about two-years old and up to age 13 my Okie dad was my exclusive hair stylist. My dad would have me sit on a stack of Los Angeles telephone directories and Yellow pages all piled on a dining chair he sat outContinue reading “It was just Barberism.”
Before I forget, I need to mention what happens the night before the Rose Parade in Pasadena, California. Sometimes called New Year’s Eve. At about 10-PM people start gathering on Colorado Boulevard in the safe areas between the blue line and the curb. People setting up their viewing space out from the curb with foldingContinue reading “More about this Rose Parade thing.”
Roadside Poetry. She was all alone In a room so dreary. She needed a companion. She shouted, Hey SIRI! BURMA SHAVE Google Burma Shave signs.