Boy, can I relate to that! Eighteen years ago I was working in a shoe store. Business in a small town shoe store allows for a lot of time for thinking and hijinks. One day, Boss came to work with a new vacuum cleaner for the store and left the old one by the dumpster out back. It looked sad -- you know what I mean -- so I took a Polaroid and wrote a goodbye note, from the cleaner to Boss. Days later, I had the cleaner making headlines in our local paper when it committed suicide off the bridge. It simply rolled to the edge and hurled itself into the river," said a horrified bystander.
The life of a corner pole doesn't have to be dull. It's true that I can't move around, at least not without help, but the neighborhood sure can. Come with me as I stand silent guard while technology changes, buildings are repainted and remodeled, cars and buses are redesigned, pets are lost and found, people are born, grow up, and move on. I'll miss this place and the folks I leave behind. It's been a pleasure to be of service.
Like a snapshot taken from the same location over decades, IT'S A BEAUTIFUL DAY ON MY CORNER, complete at 250 words, is a memoir looking back on my life as I smile wistfully at the changing technology which will replace me.
Not sure about what will happen to this one, but old telephone poles often go on to live very useful lives elsewhere. So, fear not, Old Pole.
What a great story that person wrote. Kudos to them.
When I was in prison ministry, one of my prisons had a wood workshop that took in old oak pallets and made rocking chairs out of them. The guys did beautiful work. They learned how to become master woodworkers and had an outreach program for a certain group that went out in the community to rebuild homes for the elderly and disadvantaged. It was like a Habitat for Humanity program. They learned how to become carpenters, electricians, plumbers, etc, so they had viable skills when they paroled. So, sort of like the oak pallets that were often scarred, broken, and tossed away, they became something valuable.
Maybe Old Pole will become something beautiful also.
This reminds me of an old poetry drill I used to do with a friend. We had to write a 1-page poem from the point of view of an object, and it could be serious or funny or heartbreaking. On our last coffee date, she chose a lamp, and I chose a newspaper.
Lora, you've put it beautifully. "I'm generally a bit of a misanthrope, but every now and again people are brilliant and wonderful." That could be my twitter bio, honestly. :/
Sad to see this pole giving up so easily. So many career options available.
He could be a songwriter, writing as Pole McCartney. He could go to college and teach Pole-emics. He could be a writer as Edgar Allan Pole. Of course, if he needs to raise funds, he could petition the government to institute a pole tax...
And this old pole is just a long time Of waiting and forgetting And remembering the coming back And not crying about the leaving And remembering the falling down And the laughter of the curse of luck From all of those passerby Who said we'd never get back up
28 comments:
haha! That is great!
A wonderful Thursday morning refresh.
That is THE best. :)
I love this to pieces. What fun.
This is great and so sad at the same time.
Boy, can I relate to that! Eighteen years ago I was working in a shoe store. Business in a small town shoe store allows for a lot of time for thinking and hijinks. One day, Boss came to work with a new vacuum cleaner for the store and left the old one by the dumpster out back. It looked sad -- you know what I mean -- so I took a Polaroid and wrote a goodbye note, from the cleaner to Boss. Days later, I had the cleaner making headlines in our local paper when it committed suicide off the bridge. It simply rolled to the edge and hurled itself into the river," said a horrified bystander.
Poor pole! I hope it gets retired into becoming a park bench somewhere nearby.
This gives me hope for humanity.
SOME
TELEPHONE POLE
Love this to pieces...all it's little splintery pieces.
I feel like I've stepped inside the soul of this telephone pole.
When querying my telephone pole, do I submit the whole pole, or just a sliver?
Thanks Janet - I shared this with students this a.m. They loved it.
Months from now I'm going to remember that staple-y old pole on a street corner on the other side of the world. And I will be sad.
Dear Sharkly-One
The life of a corner pole doesn't have to be dull. It's true that I can't move around, at least not without help, but the neighborhood sure can. Come with me as I stand silent guard while technology changes, buildings are repainted and remodeled, cars and buses are redesigned, pets are lost and found, people are born, grow up, and move on. I'll miss this place and the folks I leave behind. It's been a pleasure to be of service.
Like a snapshot taken from the same location over decades, IT'S A BEAUTIFUL DAY ON MY CORNER, complete at 250 words, is a memoir looking back on my life as I smile wistfully at the changing technology which will replace me.
Thank you for your time and consideration.
The Corner Pole
Looks like Shel Silverstein wrote a sequel. The Giving Pole?
Thanks for sharing, Janet!
Dena- LOVE!
Claire- Ha!
Who'd have thought a pole cold have such an impact. :)
Only in Brooklyn. Where even telephone poles have artistic ambitions.
I'm generally a bit of a misanthrope, but every now and again people are brilliant and wonderful.
Not sure about what will happen to this one, but old telephone poles often go on to live very useful lives elsewhere. So, fear not, Old Pole.
What a great story that person wrote. Kudos to them.
When I was in prison ministry, one of my prisons had a wood workshop that took in old oak pallets and made rocking chairs out of them. The guys did beautiful work. They learned how to become master woodworkers and had an outreach program for a certain group that went out in the community to rebuild homes for the elderly and disadvantaged. It was like a Habitat for Humanity program. They learned how to become carpenters, electricians, plumbers, etc, so they had viable skills when they paroled. So, sort of like the oak pallets that were often scarred, broken, and tossed away, they became something valuable.
Maybe Old Pole will become something beautiful also.
I heart this.
I saw this, too, and loved it. And now that I've read Kitty's and Julie's comments, I'm having an even better day. Awwwww.
This reminds me of an old poetry drill I used to do with a friend. We had to write a 1-page poem from the point of view of an object, and it could be serious or funny or heartbreaking. On our last coffee date, she chose a lamp, and I chose a newspaper.
Lora, you've put it beautifully. "I'm generally a bit of a misanthrope, but every now and again people are brilliant and wonderful." That could be my twitter bio, honestly. :/
Wow. Love that.
I recognize the writing from Pole Secret. Sly, guy, but you're busted.
Sad to see this pole giving up so easily. So many career options available.
He could be a songwriter, writing as Pole McCartney.
He could go to college and teach Pole-emics.
He could be a writer as Edgar Allan Pole.
Of course, if he needs to raise funds, he could petition the government to institute a pole tax...
:)
As I think about it, there are so so many things this pole could do. He just needs to think big. Be flexible! Embrace change!
Don't be a stick in the mud...
:)
And this old pole is just a long time
Of waiting and forgetting
And remembering the coming back
And not crying about the leaving
And remembering the falling down
And the laughter of the curse of luck
From all of those passerby
Who said we'd never get back up
nice post.
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