Monday, December 30, 2019

"Browns Fan Lament"

 
 
c. 2019 Rod Ice All rights reserved (12-19)

Freddie’s fired
His day is done
We hoped for wins
But they haven’t come
This portly sap
With his orange sheath
Looks lost and lonely
Beyond belief

He got the job
With hopes of change
From the dumpster fires
To better days
From Hue the rube
To a Lombardi hoist
From dark days, dim
To Super Bowl noise

Freddie’s fired
Just another chump
Rolling, churning
In the garbage dump
We had the talent
A group to play
Nick Chubb and Baker
And OBJ

Now the dawg is a hawg
An overfed fluke
Stammering on the sidelines
What can he do?
Play-calling plunder
Fans cover their eyes
Freddie fails again
He’s not our guy

What about John Dorsey?
And the Haslams as well?
We’ve got a full crew
On this ride into hell
But tonight has one star
Walking misery
It’s Kitchens the hound
Kicking at fleas

Freddie’s fired
A scapegoat or a turd?
The radio will tell
Let the callers be heard
Pittsburgh missed the playoffs
That gives us a grin
But our Cleveland Browns
Are losers again

Freddie’s fired
Point him to the exit
The wunderkind not so bright
We’ve stepped in dog s***
One more name to curse
One more kill in the road
We smoke quarterbacks and coaches
Like a wood burning stove

 Freddie’s fired
Sleigh bells jingling
A late present from Christmas
Not a Super Bowl ring
Instead its a coal
Left forgotten and cold
A black lump of nothing
Like the hurt in our souls

To the Bengals we’ve fallen
Their second of wins
The sportswriters’ prophecy
Sounds unbearably grim
Front office in peril
An owner-buffoon
If Cleveland wins anything
It won’t happen soon

Paul Brown lives in memory
Alive in tradition
But this season is over
It hasn’t been fun
Kitchens is unemployed
Another coach canned
Another end to the campaign
Quicker than planned

Freddie’s fired
No Belichick was he
No champ Blanton Collier
No Marty with a gleam
Just a guy in his hoodie
Bright orange and such
He took on the league
But needed too much

Dorsey rolled the dice
For this team by the lake
Another losing year
Another mistake
Now to the off-season
We plod with our beer
Someone will celebrate
But it ain’t happening here!

Freddie’s fired
My heart is in Cleveland
But everything else
Is burned to a crisp
My loyalty
Never fails to endure
But I’m drunk on a Sunday
Of that, I am sure!

Freddie’s fired
Shuffled out the back
Damn good intentions
He’s out with the trash
All summer we’ll drink beer
Talk of Jim Brown and friends
Till next season arrives
And we do it again

Wednesday, December 25, 2019

“Peachy Christmas”



c. 2019 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(12-19)




The Place: Washington, D.C.

The Setting: The Oval Office

The Time: Christmas Eve Morning

The Players: Donald J. Trump, 45th President of the United States; Mick Mulvaney, White House Chief of Staff; Laura Geilbaum, PhD

Donald Trump: “Good morning, Mick. Did you bring my Coke?”

Mick Mulvaney: “Good morning! Mr. President, I am not your waiter, I am in charge of your daily schedule and the gatekeeper for...”

D. Trump: “Mick, I start the day with a Coke. Every day. The day is beautiful with a Coke.”

M. Mulvaney: (Flustered) “Yes, Mr. President.”

D. Trump: “It is Christmas Eve. I always have Coke for Christmas.”

M. Mulvaney: “Sir, we have important issues to discuss...”

D. Trump: (Speaking into the intercom) “I want a Coke. Do you hear me? Hello? Hello?”

M. Mulvaney: “Sir, there has been an article published in the magazine ‘Christianity Today.’ An editorial, I should say. One that calls for your removal from office.”

D. Trump: “Removal? Nancy Pelosi wants me removed. She wrote in this magazine?”

M. Mulvaney: “No Mr. President. The editorial was written by Mark Galli. He is in charge of the publication which was begun by Rev. Billy Graham in 1956.”

D. Trump: “Billy Graham?”

M. Mulvaney: “Yes sir.”

D. Trump: “Pelosi has nothing. Not a thing. You need things to impeach, lots of things. Big things. Huuuuuge things, you need. Lots of things.”

M. Mulvaney: “Sir, you were formally impeached by the House of Representatives...”

D. Trump: “You can’t impeach with no things! No evidence. No nothing!”

M. Mulvaney: “It was done, Mr. President.”

D. Trump: “So what did this Galli guy say in his editorial? Nobody knows him, nobody reads his magazine, nobody.”

M. Mulvaney: “Mr. Galli wrote ‘But the facts are unambiguous. The president of the United States attempted to use his political power to coerce a foreign leader to harass and discredit one of the president’s political opponents. That is not only a violation of the Constitution; more importantly, it is profoundly immoral.’”

D. Trump: “Nothing. He has nothing. Pelosi has nothing. I did nothing.”

M. Mulvaney: “Sir, your protests have been ridiculed by the media.”

D. Trump: “I watched Fox & Friends yesterday and they liked what I said. Liked it very much. Liked it a lot.”

M. Mulvaney: “Mr. Galli wrote ‘His Twitter feed alone – with its habitual string of mischaracterizations, lies, and slanders – is a near perfect example of a human being who is morally lost and confused.’”

D. Trump: (Sipping his Coke) “Who is this guy? Gall-i. Pelos-i. They sound alike. I think that is a fake name. More fake. Fake news!”

M. Mulvaney: “Sir, the magazine has a worldwide circulation...”

D. Trump: (Reddening) “I never heard of him. Galli. What kind of a name is Galli?”

M. Mulvaney: (Bowing his head) “Mr. President, Billy Graham was known by millions of people around the globe. Having the editor-in-chief of a magazine he founded come out in support of your removal from office is a big deal...”

D. Trump: (Defiant) “I have the Christian vote, Mick. Have it right here in my pocket. Right here! I have priests, I have bishops, I have rabbis even, lots of them, lots of preachers, lots of ministers. Lots of them.”

M. Mulvaney: “Sir, some have written that your base is beginning to come apart.”

D. Trump: (Angry) “Nothing. I did nothing. I have lost nothing. I give up no things!”

M. Mulvaney: “Nancy Pelosi says she prays for you...”

D. Trump: (Spitting) “I don’t need a prayer. I don’t need her, nobody needs her. She is a loser, a liberal loser, like Joe Biden, ‘Sleepy Joe’ as I call him.”

M. Mulvaney: (Looking at his watch) “Sir, it is nine o’clock. Your first visitor of the morning will be here, a professor from Cornell University.”

D. Trump: (Caught off guard) “A visitor? On Christmas Eve, a visitor? Someone visiting on Christmas Eve?”

M. Mulvaney: (Befuddled) “The schedule is tight, sir. Senator McConnell thought she should see you.”

D. Trump: “Mitch? Mitch knows her?”

M. Mulvaney: “Apparently. He thought she might be of help. During this situation with impeachment.”

D. Trump: “There is no situation. No nothing. This is a peachy day, not im-peachy. I feel peachy. I feel perfect, like my call to Ukraine.”

Dr. Laura Geilbaum: (Entering the room) “Hello Mr. President. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

D. Trump: (Graciously) “Good morning!”

M. Mulvaney: “A pleasure to have you here...”

D. Trump: “Get her a Coke, Mick!”

Dr. Laura: “No thank you, Mr. President. I am here to talk with you about impeachment. Senator McConnell thought we might discuss some ideas to get through this situation...”

D. Trump: “Situation? What situation? I don’t feel impeached. Not at all.”

Dr. Laura: (Blushing) “Sir, you were formally impeached by the House of Representatives on December 18th.”

D. Trump: “But I am still here, still in charge, still in office. Nancy has nothing, the Democrats have nothing.”

Dr. Laura: “Mr. President, that is something I wanted to address. You seem to minimize powerful women. Like Hillary Clinton or Nancy Pelosi. But you are obsessed with them, undeniably. You talk about them often...”

D. Trump: (Shaking his head) “Nancy? With Nancy I am obsessed?”

Dr. Laura: “Sir, you speak about her frequently. I have to ask… do you secretly find her attractive?”

D. Trump: (Cursing) “WHAT? WHAT DID YOU SAY?”

Dr. Laura: “Nancy looks remarkable for a woman of 79. Do you agree?”

D. Trump: “A hag she is, an old hag, her husband wouldn’t want her, like Hillary, nobody would want her. I know beautiful women, all of my wives were beautiful, my Melania is beautiful.”

Dr. Laura: (Smiling) “Are you intimidated by her stature and physical appeal, Mr. President?”

D. Trump: (Angry) “No one intimidates me. No one. Maybe John Wayne if he were alive still. Maybe. Maybe Chuck Norris would. Maybe. Nancy does not intimidate me.”

Dr Laura: (Nodding) “Sir, I suspect that you are afraid of Speaker Pelosi. Afraid of how she makes you feel. Afraid of your desire for her and your fear that she is the one in control...”

M. Mulvaney: (Silently laughing, covers his mouth)

D. Trump: (Standing up) “Get out! Mick, get her out! Tell Mitch McConnell I threw his friend out of this office! Do you hear me? Hear me now! Do you hear me now? GET OUT!!!”

Dr. Laura: (Lowering her eyes) “I apologize, Mr. President. Sincerely, sir. I am sorry...”

D. Trump: “OUT! OUT! OUT!!!”

M. Mulvaney: (Embarrassed) “Thank you, Dr. Geilbaum.”

D. Trump: (Back to sipping his Coke) “Okay. Who else is here today, Mitch? (He pants to catch his breath) “Who else, Mitch?”

M. Mulvaney: (Defeated) “No one, sir. It is Christmas Eve.”

D. Trump: “I still have to find a gift for Melania. A great gift, a perfect gift.”

M. Mulvaney: “Very good, Mr. President.”

D. Trump: “I feel peachy today, Mick. This is going to be a peachy Christmas!”

M. Mulvaney: (Slumped against the desk) “Yes, Mr. President.”

Comments about ‘Words on the Loose’ may be sent to: icewritesforyou@gmail.com
Write us at: P. O. Box 365 Chardon, OH 44024

Tuesday, December 24, 2019

“Christmas in the Pines”




c. 2019 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(12-19)

Trailer park life.

Living in a box-with-wheels has a social stigma handed down through the generations. One branded for all time upon those who have fallen to the state of such living conditions. Yet this level of existence may be viewed differently when considered from a 21st-century, ‘woke’ perspective. Here, the benefits are many. A reduced environmental footprint, recycling of items that might otherwise clog landfills, and a general living in harmony with natural surroundings. Rowdy trees that would irritate suburban dwellers provide a natural cover for prefab homes. Castaway wood and bricks offer hope of future remodeling projects. Old vehicles stay in service.

And the people endure.

During the holiday season, this lifestyle literally gleams like sunlight reflected from falling snow. While more upscale folk revel in glitz and artifice, there is a celebration of the human spirit among those in mobile homes. A robust dedication to giving thankful praise for the gift of life itself. To reusing what exists. To staying close with Mother Earth.

Undeniably, Greta Thunberg would be proud.

I pondered such things recently, on Christmas Eve. The result was a poem written with an app on my cellphone, while having coffee. A salute of sorts to living after retirement and a slide toward personal disability:

Christmas in the pines
I’m running out of time
My furnace quit
My life is spit
But no one seems to mind
I live my days on beer
‘Let it snow all day!’ I cheer
Every memory is sweet
Sure beats living on the street


Christmas in the pines
A pocket full of dimes
Counting change
For the holiday
Till Santa Claus arrives
I live my days on SPAM
And gravy from a can
My stove is broke and so am I
Drink a toast until I die


Christmas in the pines
Out by the county line
A sea of mud
Poor Uncle Spud
Drunk and feeling fine
Go walking with my cane
I’m thankful for the day
My dog is happy with his bone
I’ll never be alone


Christmas in the pines
Chills run up and down my spine
You Tube shows
The propane glows
Caroling with Boone’s Farm wine
My neighbors feeling good
In a home made out of plywood
We all survive on hope
Cause otherwise we’re bored and broke


Christmas in the pines
Crows sitting on the lines
Cratered streets
Propane heat
A festive Yuletide chime
I’ll celebrate with friends
Till the day comes to an end
Then lift a toast to New Year fun
And another trip around the sun 


Christmas in the pines 
Internet through the line 
Kitchen sink 
A drainpipe stink 
Soapy water, grit and grime 
The trailer scrubbed and spiffy clean 
For the holiday I have preened 
Wearing a football hoodie 
The Noel spirit lives in me 

Christmas in the pines 
A case of beer, twelve ninety-nine 
In God we trust 
Trucks run on rust 
Broken teeth, but feeling fine 
I’m stocked up on Doritos 
Neighbor says Donald is his hero 
No arguments today 
I’m in a mood to celebrate 

Christmas in the pines 
It’s a sign of the times 
Santa song 
Money gone 
Packages tied up with twine 
Under the evergreen 
Gifts like I’ve never seen 
Wrap up empty boxes so 
St. Nick, we’re good to go 

Christmas in the pines 
Gray hues across the skyline 
Breakfast feast 
Roadkill meat 
Breaded up country-style and fried 
The TV set shows highlights 
Of winterland delights 
But here in east Ohio, friend 
I’m hanging by a thread 

Christmas in the pines 
The neighbors pay no mind 
Nobody cares 
If travelers stare 
We’re staying out of sight 
Blankets in the windows 
But the trailer park’s aglow 
Electric candles light the evening 
Voices lifted up to sing 

Christmas in the pines 
Got a pizza on my mind 
With Buffalo wings
And onion rings 
Dipped in ketchup made by Heinz 
Can’t keep this to myself today 
Want to dance and celebrate 
Candy canes and treats galore 
Dog gets what hits the floor 

Christmas in the pines 
Mashed spuds and roasted swine 
Look at us 
We’re generous 
Though nobody has a dime 
I’ll wish my neighbors good cheer
 And pass around cold, light beer 
Nuts and fudge and cinnamon buns 
Merry Christmas, everyone!

With Christmas Day close at hand, it would be easy to engage in fanciful thoughts of Santa Claus bringing treasures in his sleigh. But for this writer, a different notion has taken hold. A tilt toward gratitude and satisfaction. No greater gift can be imagined than the one contained here, in the form of prose printed on the page.

Another writing project complete.

Comments about ‘Words on the Loose’ may be sent to: icewritesforyou@gmail.com 
Write us at: P. O. Box 365 Chardon, OH 44024

Monday, December 9, 2019

"Browns Christmas"



c. 2019 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(12-19)

Christmas with the Browns
Season winding down
Not too many wins for us
Throwing people under the bus
Do we live in hell?
They still slam us for Manziel
Catcalls from the Steeler fans
Who think ‘yinz’ give a damn

Christmas with the Browns
Pittsburgh is the town
Where all my neighbors think they live
Without a f*** to give
Wearing black and yellow
Everyone a jolly fellow
You’d think they never played football
Where Lake Erie makes landfall

Christmas with the Browns
My radio turned way down
Listening to ‘The Fan’
A solitary man
Wife is stuck on Netflix
Says sports just make her sick
Grandma says all I do is yell
“Cleveland sports fans live in hell!”

Christmas with the Browns
The Grinch coming around
My tree is trimmed with broken dreams
I’m taking baseball schemes
My dawg bones gather dust
No more in them I trust
Bring on some basketball, my friend
This season’s at an end

Christmas with the Browns
A deal is going down
Beckam may want off the team
I expected him to flee
Baker is a mess
Critics are not impressed
Freddie, good ol’country boy
Can’t hold this shiny toy

Christmas with the Browns
Cleveland is our town
I live up by Lake Erie
Not on the Allegheny
But neighbors, young and old
Brag about “six super bowls”
They think Rooney started time
In 1969

Christmas with the Browns
Points scored are trending down
The Zeitler trade looks like a bust
What’s to become of us?
The Bengals we can beat
Trash teams we can defeat
But otherwise it’s cold out here
Drinking ‘High Life’ beer



Christmas with the Browns
When does soccer come around?
No more talk of football
Orange and brown is off-the-wall
Another hard off-season
Steelers fans engage in treason
The memory of this thing
Will be Myles’ helmet swing

Christmas with the Browns
Friends sing “Send in the clowns!”
Steelers are just jagoffs
They’ll go nowhere in the playoffs
We got Chubb and Hunt
But go three-and-out, then punt
Lose to the duck-caller kid
These dawgs have stepped in s***

Christmas with the Browns
Fans sit, wearing their frowns
We’ll talk of Kosar in his prime
All through the summertime
Then when the season starts
Before they break our hearts
We’ll swing our fists and take a pledge
To bark like dawgs again

Written while listening to ‘The Bull and Fox’ on WKRK-FM, 92.3 The Fan

Wednesday, December 4, 2019

“Paula’s Trees”



c. 2019 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(12-19)




Note: Paula is not selling her trees this year, due to the prevailing shortage of cut evergreens. For those of us in Geauga County, Christmas will not be the same...

December.

The arrival of this month normally evokes a curious sense of awe over the passage of another year and celebrations about to happen. Moreover, the arrival of winter spins us into a cycle of frost and snow particularly strong for residents of Geauga County. But a prevailing mood of joy makes this month festive. One inspired by our own local celebrity and ‘Santa’s Elf’ known as Paula Horbay.

I first met her while serving as a Co-Manager at Chardon Giant Eagle.

Paula’s warm personality is a pleasure to experience at any time during the year. But with one page left on the calendar, her true calling becomes evident. Her tiny house appears and in a festive ring of honor, trees are stocked to serve local needs. Each is delivered with a heart full of seasonal pride.

I wrote often about Paula in my column for the local newspaper, from 1998-2014. Since then, my affinity for her has continued to grow. Recently, while pondering the arrival of our 12th month in the year, I felt inspired to scribble out a bit of poetry in her honor. What follows here is the result of this inspiration:

Paula’s Trees
If you Please
Green, tall and proud
Say it out loud
The holiday elf
Makes me glad for myself
A yuletide dream

Paula’s Trees
A winter breeze
Snow in the air
And she’s on her chair
In the little house at Chardon
With work never done
Smiles to see

Paula’s Trees
Make me happier by three
I want to dance with her
We’d cause quite a stir
On the hill at the square
With all our friends there
Her and me

Paula’s Trees
The lady is pleased
To share seasonal joy
With every girl and boy
This lady in green
This noel queen
One of Santa’s trustees

Paula’s Trees
With socks to her knees
Her festive attire
Kept warm by the fire
Hot cocoa in a mug
Hot cider in a jug
Fun to see

Paula’s Trees
In a circle, you see
Waiting for the kids
Who put in their bids
For a holiday arbor
Memories, forever
She’s the key

Paula’s Trees
Kisses that freeze
The sunshine is cold
But her smile warms my soul
In her dress, green and red
She’s waiting with her sled
For new families

Paula’s Trees
A hutch of evergreen
Newcomers soon learn
Why the oldsters love her
This elf works her magic
With a wink, slyly quick
Clever is she

Paula’s Trees
A gift to our county
She appears every season
With her own rhyme and reason
A bringer of cheer
So glad she is here
Believe me

Paula’s Trees
Like mighty Hercules
She raises our mood
With love ever true
Her faith and devotion
Ever in motion
Happily

Paula’s Trees
A bounty of green
She sits in the thick
An elegant chick!
When I see her arrive
I feel butterflies
Inside me

Paula’s Trees
A lighthouse by the sea
Calling out with good tidings
The holidays are arriving
We lift up glad voices
We make joyful noises
Feeling free

Paula’s Trees
Feeling at ease
In the snow on a hillside
Let’s go for a ride
We’ll celebrate with spices
And old fashioned devices
Toys and treats

Paula’s Trees
Hearts full of glee
Cookies and snowflakes
Whatever she bakes
A party in the pines
So glad she can find
Time for me

Paula’s Trees
Selling fun by the sneeze
A fanciful elf
Never left by herself
Seekers come to find green boughs
With snow on their eyebrows
Her family are we

Paula’s Trees
Our holiday centerpiece
It means so much more
When bought at her store
The hut on a hill
Exudes peace and goodwill
Eternally

Paula’s Trees
Better than bees
Honey might flow sweetly
But I love her dearly
For the season of smiles
Though she’s here all the while
Can’t you see?

Paula’s Trees
Get them now, quickly!
Her wares will soon disappear
Like the end of this year
Then she’ll go back to the bunkhouse
Quiet like a church mouse
Her retreat

Paula’s Trees
We thank her, gratefully
For this Christmas celebration
For this holiday fun
And until next year
We’ll dream she is here
Faithfully

My own habits have evolved over time. Currently, I decorate a Corona palm tree for the Christmas season. One that stood at a supermarket I managed in Geneva, at the end of my retail career. A beer display with enduring distinction. This odd spin on the season reflects a bit of humor and a personal accent on an old tradition. I choose ornaments from the household collection, two egg-boxes filled with items found at local thrift emporiums and yard sales.

I prefer the homespun look of a ‘down home’ celebration. Like something one would expect to find in a country store, out-of-the-way motel, or a vintage service station.

Santa Claus, reindeer, elves and falling snow all contribute to the mystery of this season. But for those of us close to Lake Erie, another harbinger of yuletide glee makes us sure of the season.

We call her... Paula.

Comments about ‘Words on the Loose’ may be sent to: icewritesforyou@gmail.com
Write us at: P. O. Box 365 Chardon, OH 44024