Simply Slemp

(via purplenyx)

moamy:

Best Christmas present ever.

My uncle Jimmy died several years ago. He was mentally ill, very poor, and suffering from various physical problems including diabetes. He was always on the fringe of the family, but he lived on the same street as my grandmother so my brother and I would visit him when we spent time at grandma’s house. He always treated us sort of like equals and was always kind and fun. Our most clear memory of him is sitting on the steps to his porch looking at a small garbage can which featured the portraits of all the presidents through Lyndon Johnson. He’d tell us stories about them and quiz us on things like the dates they served and party affiliation.

We’ve occasionally had the ‘remember that presidential garbage can?!’ conversation over the years, but nothing too in depth. Every once in a while I check for something like it on eBay, but with no luck.

My brother frequents antique shops, thrift stores, yard sales, and flea markets. I joined him on an excursion this fall and as we shopped I mentioned that we should really try to track down that garbage can.

Today, I unwrapped a big box from my brother and inside, there it was—our cherished garbage can. The best part of the story is that my brother bought it way back in February, long before I mentioned that we should try to find it. Apparently, he’d also been searching for it, and finally came upon it at a local thrift shop. He was saving it to give to me today.

I cried and laughed as I realized what I was opening. What an odd coincidence that we had both been looking for it all these years later, and how sweet that when my brother found it he wanted me to have it.

We figure that it may very well actually be my uncle’s garbage can rather than just a similar one since we’ve never come across one elsewhere.

Besides my engagement ring, this be-presidented garbage can is my favorite Christmas present ever.

 ”What is that, an ice bucket?” Let Us Live.

“It kind of looks like a presidential trashcan,” Spacecat.

“Whatever it is it’s very cool. I’ll have to read about it and reblog it when I get home,” Let Us Live.

Here I am, underground, talked into joining the blog universe… even though I’m swamped with playing guitar and going to graduate school. Well, that’s the joy of being an intern with Let Us Live and crew.

letuslive:

cherylwallace:

Happy Halloween From Dumont

01:46:55: Let Us Live: Verse 2

poems

never wait

not these

present moment

just allow photographs to take themselves

how bad have they been

fumble for a light

lap water

nothing to do with human anatomy

John R. Cash

wants a letter about 

you

not about a tired railroad

maybe a time

and Wanda

knew something

what’s wrong with the world

they keep messin’ with time

they do

nothing 

no credit to credit

no credibility just gullibility

links or patties

neither whispers Robert Z

subconsciously 

the twisted sermon of Malcolm X

neither friend to Bill W

if that phrase

means anything to a reader

if a reader ever reads

have they been bad

the readers

Michael

not if ever the willows or the reeds 

do we have anything we can make

a closing door

a fold of electricity

denied

silenced

like shadows on windows

replaced

long after Walt Whitman

took his last Christmas

human breath

away

another manger

no manager to renew

wonder

marvel

good news

Cynthia

great interconnecter with

DuMont

the lovely bull

dog

the smiling bull

dog

in pig costume for

Halloween

DuMont

interconnects the memories of

Woody Guthrie

excuse the distraction

will you order it

what will you like

distractions part of the now

only now

for this now

do what

she’s wanting me to order a pizza

who’s wanting pie

some say one in the same

but DuMont the lovely

spiritual

bull

dog

knows how to live

smile in the present

a wonderful present

for all to behold

and DuMont the

bull

dog

yes

he shares some of the 

knowledge of 

Malcolm X

imparted in a New York City kitchen

to Bob Dylan

that pigs

should never pass our mouths

DuMont

in cute pink pig costume

fulfills a prophecy 

like a sage

sly

Ezekiel or 

will it get here in time

will anything ever get anywhere in time

what is time

where is here

Dogs and Pigs interconnect

and we don’t need to see

slaughterhouse

or read 

animal liberation to

realize

that swallowing pig

disrupts natural

balance between

Malcolm X’s words in

brainear of Bob Dylan in

New York City 

marijuana-smoky-kitchen

and DuMont’s

peaceful pose

branduponthebrain:

Charlie Parker

 Doctor Nat bonded out Red Rodney to play a concert at the Singleterry Center for the Arts.