For a class project, my young cousin Allyssa Ridings recently shared some of her memories from a part of Southern Illinois widely known as Terrapin Ridge — the home for over 50 years to Beatrice Ridings, my grandmother. Many knew my Granny Bea as Aunt Bea or Miss Ridings, and at her home, just about everybody who was alive at the time on my mother’s and father’s sides of my family experienced things there that formed some of their warmest memories. Allyssa’s essay triggered my own recollections, and searching through some of my past writings, I found this poem, written…
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I met Beth Kiefert right at the beginning of the Spring semester in 1990. Aside from being awed by her beauty from the very first time I saw her, in our first conversations in the design and statistics classes we shared that semester, she impressed me with her brightness, sense of humor, kindness, and upbeat nature. One of five children, she let me know right away that family was very important to her, and as the weeks passed, after just a few stumbles, we found ourselves on pretty solid ground with each other. Fast-forward to June, and I was already…
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Ramble #10 by Roger Darnell Every step of my life, you have been here. Our shared life experiences as siblings is what made me want it for my children… even with all we have been through, bro. I really can’t imagine my life without there being a big brother, and you being him. And now, on the verge of you achieving something monumentally spectacular and completely self-driven, I am awestruck, and exceedingly proud. Rock on. Ramble January 17, 2008: #17 January 18, 2008: #16 February 1, 2009: #10 April 27, 2009: #9 October 3, 2009: #8 May 9, 2010: #7…
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Ramble #16 by Roger Darnell I haven’t logged in up at the top yet… I’m hardly qualified to be a poet tonight. It was a good day… a day with the kids. No less than Hickory Dickory Dock: The indoor recreational labyrinth of legend; it did not disappoint. Home, in the snows, well into our sixth Appalachian winter, our family joined the neighbors for dinner; they had other friends with kids join us. A night of merriment was enjoyed by all. Such a simple lifestyle, so warm, so fun. We are basking in it, and so are our two. Settled…
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Saturday Morning, Age 28 by Roger Darnell film scheduling, scriptsfriendly smiling caring peoplemaking a TV show at network levelthat’s funny, aspires to and achieves quality music is lengthening its shadowswilling a promising luminance fingers tinkling atop the ivoriesharmonies released at last oh my aunts and unclesthe older friends of my parentsmy grandparents my parents my siblingsdear friends dear strangers every being exists for a purposerecognized, taunted, lost, sold, claimedtaken for granted, lived to the fullestit’s up to you and me my friends
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In the days since that last posting, we have traveled many miles and experienced much of the best that life has to offer. We are savoring the joys, and also the aftertaste of some of the sorrows, and very thankful to be right where we are. And yet, with so many ambitions still beckoning me personally, and with any given day producing only limited results of the types imagined, it is often a serious challenge to carry on, to begin the next endeavor. This quandary has been the source of inspiration for many of the poems I’ve written. Here’s one…
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Yesterday I wrote a piece for my agency blog entitled “Start cultivating your creativity right now.” In that, I published an excerpt from the forthcoming book “An Illustrated Life” contributed by graphic designer, illustrator and book artist Roz Stendahl. Here are her words, which really made an impression on me: “I love blank pages. They scream possibilities to me. They clamor for attention. They call to me from across the room while I’m trying to do other work.” Looking back on my own experiences as a would-be writer over the years, it’s easy for me to see that my own…
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The ‘Bumper Crop’ series has at least one more entry, but requires a bit more work on my part before I can post the rest of the story. In the meantime, I wanted to share something from a more recent work. After we moved to the Blue Ridge Mountains almost exactly seven years ago, I found my creative writing energies more or less depleted. Soon, being a father added a new dimension to my life, and the one creative project that stayed on my agenda was to write an epic poem for Amelia, detailing the first day of her life…
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. February 22, 1991: Bumper Crop, Part 1 . June 29, 1991: Bumper Crop, Part 2 . February 26, 1993: Bumper Crop, Part 3 . December 5, 2008: Bumper Crop is now live… Thanks to everyone for the feedback on “Bumper Crop,” the short script I wrote back in 1991 for my friend Bill Waxler to direct. The story is about an older man who awakens from a dream that shines a new light on a long-held misconception which had affected him deeply throughout his life. Finally understanding that he was not responsible for his brother’s accident long ago, his…
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I spent nearly six years in the Air Force Reserves, beginning almost exactly 23 (gulp!) years ago. Indeed, I spent my 19th birthday in boot camp in San Antonio, Texas, and every now and then, one or another of the deep-seated memories from that time comes back to me. I remember the cold April wind and the noisy birds that greeted us each morning, and the total lack of personal liberties that led me from one task to the next, along with my fellow junior airmen. By the fall of 1988, I was doing my annual two-week tour… as it…