Mrs. E and I enjoyed a recent road trip. We went to a concert at Hershey Park, PA. We also spent a day in beautiful, Jim Thorpe, PA. I wrote these two poems while on the trip:
T-shirts in Candy Town
We are eating Continental Breakfast
at the 3 story La Quinta Hotel
in Hershey, Pennsylvania.
It is a t-shirt Sunday morning gathering.
One man’s t-shirt declares, “Dallas sucks.”
I am wondering about the bad timing of that message
in light on the category 4 hurricane that recently hit Texas.
A woman in her 60’s looks rather ruffled and is sleepwalking.
Her bright florescent yellow t-shirt proclaims, “Gym hair.”
She tells her male breakfast companion that she needs caffeine,
and to quickly get to the nearby famous, Hershey Chocolate World.
She says she is craving candy as she has been on a long candy hiatus.
I look up from my peach yogurt, grapefruit juice and bagel,
to see a man wearing a worn out t- shirt proclaiming,
“Mr. Woodcock I’m best known for my meat.”
Walking behind him is a smiling man with one word
in the middle of his t- shirt that largely states, “Lucky.”
A man my age wears a tee proclaiming, “Growing old disgracefully.”
Leaving the hotel with our luggage we pass, a tall young black man,
his gray tee-shirt declares, “Mr. Positive says, be positive.”
On the walk to our car I contemplate all these,
wearable apparel proclamations.
I pull out of the busy motel parking lot
and note that the house next door still has,
a Trump/Pence sign in their front yard.
I am thinking that my morning has just started
on a very negative note, setting a bad vibe for the day.
Driving down the road just a few miles
I see a billboard for a furniture store.
It proclaims, “Our prices are sofa king low.”
I chuckle and decide that I am going to
have a positive day and also grow old disgracefully.
Thanks 100% cotton philosophers!
We are at Hershey Park to see Van Morrison.
At the concert I order an $8 draft beer.
That might seems expensive but it included,
a priceless compliment free of charge.
That was the fact that I was asked to show an ID.
I pulled out my AARP card to show the beer seller.
I then was given a purple wrist band,
so I wouldn’t have to show an ID again.
I may never, ever take it off!
I’ve got to remember to order
some more of that age spot cream.
“You don’t stop laughing when you grow old, you grow old when you stop laughing.”
~ George Bernard Shaw
Van Morrison: “Into the Mystic”