Different Slants

Seeing the World from a New Angle

Stand Up and Face the Evil…by Robert M. Katzman

Filed under: Bewilderment,Black/White relationships,Life & Death,My Own Personal Hell,Rage!,Social Policy and Justice — Bob at 7:09 am on Wednesday, August 16, 2017

©  August 16, 2017

 

There is a dark drama

A building of pressure

A sense of impending change

A feeling of molten human eruption

A trembling of the ground under all of our feet

 

(Read on …)

14th & Main…by Robert M. Katzman

14th & Main

by Robert M. Katzman

© August 7, 2017

 

It still glitters in my imagination

Gives me a suspended moment

Whenever

I slow down to stare at it

It is the absence of anything

The quiet vista that represented

Better times for the

New couple in town

14th & Main

(Read on …)

Chicago Municipal Tyranny Explained: My Newsstand in 1965…by Robert M. Katzman

Chicago Municipal Tyranny Explained: My Newsstand in 1965 

by Robert M. Katzman ©  August 1, 2017

There was a situation I first encountered when I opened my wooden newsstand August 21,1965 in Hyde Park, 52 years ago: Permission to issue permits to open a newsstand were delegated by the City to the four major newspapers in order to receive a newsstand permit for a particular corner in Chicago. Period.  But the main two asses to kiss were the conservative Chicago Tribune and the Liberal Chicago Sun-Times.

However, there were really only two City newspaper corporations, because the Tribune owned the Chicago American and the Sun-Times owned the Chicago Daily News. Both had to approve of you. Whatever running around by me was necessary, I needed four recognizable signatures on a yellow postcard-sized piece of stiff paper if my teenaged dreams of self-employment were to be realized.

Each newspaper assigned a certain medieval person called a “Division Boss” to decide whether a person was sufficiently worthy to receive their blessings for whatever area was under their control.  Direct contact with the newspapers’ business administration office was impossible.

(Read on …)

An Army of One: Caring for Joy’s Garden…by Robert M. Katzman

Filed under: Existential Pets,Friendship & Compassion,Life & Death,Love and Romance,Trees,Wisconsin stories — Bob at 8:50 am on Sunday, July 30, 2017

Published July 30, 2017, © by Robert M. Katzman

Sometimes, in the cool night air I walk barefoot in the dark on the geometric red and white stone paths to inspect Joy’s Garden for evil invaders. All manner of uninvited plants seek to join the selected ones. They are unaware that a different bipeded specie’s resistance to them is constant and that pulled weeds, once sun-dried, become kindling for our hungry backyard brick fireplace.

There are five blossoming brooding Burning Bushes on the east and west sides of the little garden, to contribute to my defenses. Soon to be a fiery glowing red, Moses would be proud. But also, he wouldn’t wonder why there were ten of them. Subtly, but meaningfully to me, they send two messages. I let them speak for themselves.

(Read on …)

If I Wrote an Honest Ad to Find a New Woman…by Robert M. Katzman

Filed under: Bewilderment,Depression and Hope,Jewish Themes,Love and Romance,Wisconsin stories — Bob at 12:17 pm on Thursday, July 20, 2017

If I Wrote a Honest Ad to Find A New Woman

By Robert M. Katzman © July 20, 2017

 

It would start like this:

 

One Hundred Panes of Glass

She never saw my surprise for her

Something I designed to enchant

Her whimsical soul

My timing was off by a week

Her surprise gift arrived too late

And now, well…

She’s somewhere in Eternity

(Read on …)

Audrey, Pink Bunny Slippers, Her Cat, and the God’s Eye…by Robert M. Katzman

By Robert M. Katzman © May 18, 2017

(a podcast of this story I read on 91.1 FM, WGTD Kenosha, Wis NPR a week earlier courtesy of the warm and kind people of the Kenosha Writers Guild, especially Dave Gourdoux, has a link at the end of this posting.)

 

I was reading an online obituary page a while ago, and saw that Audrey, my Audrey, by then 86, had died.

It sent a shiver through me and I glanced over at the God’s Eye I’ve kept with me wherever I’ve moved over the past half century. It rests about five feet away from me. Intricately woven multi-colored yarn with fine detail in a Native American style, using three foot-long slender branches tied together in the shape of a six-pointed star.

It is a spiritual and ritual object thought to have magical powers by the ancient Pueblo tribes in the Southwest.

It is thought to possess the power to be able to see and understand that which an ordinary person cannot see.

Audrey, I thought to myself, now you’re really gone from me, aren’t you?

The pain within me was so real, so deep. She was someone I would often go see in Shabby Town, when I needed to remind myself that whatever else was wrong with me, with my life, a woman with fine qualities like Audrey–and Jesus, man–so beautiful, too, who was willing to give me a second look, well, ok, a lot more than a second look, then…maybe I had something valuable about me that she wanted, too, if only for a moment in time.

Audrey, Audrey, that picture of you, that little old lady scrunched up in a hospital bed, why had that newspaper or whatever online things are called now…no idea about how incredible you once were? What you were really like, so long ago. The smile that radiated from your big brown eyes, and your soft wide mouth?

So kissable a mouth. Soft lips, Audrey, you had such soft lips…soft everything.

(Read on …)

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