20th & 21st March, 2004
Cast your vote
for your all-time favorite McKuen song & poem.
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Photograph by Donna Marie
A Thought for Today
I feel happiness and know you've come into the room.
PLAYING IT CLOSE
With growing frequency I now plan outings in the morning, await them through the day, and
with approaching darkness work myself into an apathy that a closing battle line could not
penetrate. I am never sure what I miss by staying home. Doubtlessly, I've avoided
disappointments that might have chipped away a little more of my self-confidence. Possibly
on one given night I missed the silver apple that, bitten into, would have changed my
I chose the shadows; they did not choose me. I stay here securely not just because I feel
plain, but because disappearance is by now the easy way. The habit. The worn path that I
can trod knowingly and be assured safe passage home.
Don't ask, don't tell me how it might have been, or what it could or should have been
like. How different all my days would be if I'd strode securely into public sunlight. More
and more I take the sun alone; always at the edge of the clearing, close enough to the
wood to crouch low or retreat at ease should the beautiful enemy pass by.
- adapted from the Forward to "Alone",1975.
Published in Flight Plan 8/11/98
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Saturday 20 March
Jack Barry o
Chester Bennington o
Wendell Corey o
John Ehrlichman o
Larry Elgart o
Ray (Bob & Ray) Goulding o
Holly Hunter o
William Hurt o
Henrik Ibsen o
Jack Kruschen o
Spike Lee o
Hal Linden o
Lois Lowry o
Lauritz Melchior o
Ozzie Nelson o
Bobby Orr o
Sir Michael Redgrave o
Jerry Reed o
Carl Reiner o
Pat Riley o
Fred "Mr." Rogers o
Christy Carlson Romano o
Sunday 21 March
Johann Sebastian Bach o
Matthew Broderick o
Edgar Buchanan o
Pat Chesley o
James Coco o
Timothy Dalton o
Mark Hellinger o
Mort Lindsey o
Phyllis McGinley o
Modest Mussorgsky o
Rosie O'Donnell o
Gary Oldman o
Ayrton Senna da Silva o
Kathleen Widdoes o
||Freedom and love are luxuries. We have to
work hard to earn them.
The rhyme is in the rowing of the boat -
straight-ahead, not veering except to take on passengers. Steady hands
circle sturdy paddles propelling us forever forward.
Beware of old definitions. Don't be afraid to make your
||The smell goes first.
The smell that closed rooms have
when women are about.
No coffee smell,
no sweet stale smell of bath,
no hair smell on the pillow,
no smell of beds too long unchanged.
I kept the window closed all day
trying to retain what little of you there was left.
And now the darkness like firecrackers ringing in
trying to sleep in the same unchanged bed
calling back old images
to make the evening come out right.
- from "Stanyan Street & Other Sorrows", 1965