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Rod & Sunny: Photo by Bob Gentry 8/5/1999

A Thought for Today

Some oceans have been known to come again to their mother country and wash ashore more brilliant treasures than they took away.

 

PASS IT MALONG

OK, so today's piece isn't really a candidate for Pass It Along. It is, however, something that tickled the funny bone of a lot of people a few months back and we've had a number of requests to publish it again.

So here it is.

- Ken, Johannesburg, November 22

BEVERLY HILLS RATS

ITEM: From a front-page story in Monday's New York Times.

"Giant Rats Have Invaded Beverly Hills and because of several years of drought can be seen drinking from many of the city's private swimming pools."

Edward & I have just come back from the pool where 'Rod's Rodents' stop by each afternoon for High Chlorine Tea. There are usually 6 or 8 dozen all in a neat row poised and posing around the edge of the pool, sipping softly and sharing polite conversation. Some pick up a tomato or two from the garden and bring them along for the feast.

I'm kept pretty busy these days baking bread and making little cucumber sandwiches for our guests and Edward pitches in by trimming the crusts and spreading the mustard and mayonnaise. (Between you and me I think the mustard kills the delicate taste of the cucumbers, but you know Edward.) I also feel that the sandwiches and a little Brie is sufficient to go with the tea but Edward overdoes it by insisting on adding milk and cookies to the trays. I'm afraid this reduces the whole affair from High to Very Low Tea.

They are so cute, most are about the size of greyhounds but a few remind me of Old English Sheepdogs --- and those tails (!) I imagine the S&M inclined among their numbers have a whale of a time flogging one another. Please, I don't want to know about all that. And anyway, I'm sure that contingent will eventually find its way down the road to West Hollywood. There are fewer pools there but a breed of far more tolerant people for such things than yours truly.

Edward (always the moneymaker in the family) had thought of selling tickets to this every afternoon event but Rats are so common here in the hills of Beverly that every pool, pond and fountain has its own family or cell of these big, furry, lovable creatures.

Mornings are quite different: A few of the younger Rodents arrive for a swim and several stop by with shampoo and soap for a leisurely luxury bath. This AM I had a race with one of the more muscular giants who after 12 laps was still going strong while I toweled off and headed upstairs for a shower. Where do they get that stamina?

We've nicknamed one who has really broad shoulders and exceptionally good looking pecks "Mikey.” Another, obviously a Desert Rat (you can tell from his tan), is called "Boulders." He lugs a bag of barbells and free weights with him on his daily visits. He's such a square-jawed All American type that I suppose we'll have to break down and build him a gymnasium or at least a workout station at the far end of the pool or over near the greenhouse. Apparently the lady Rats find him quite dreamy in his little Gold's Gym Tee Shirt because they ooh and aah every time he flexes. Often he brings along a friend, Steve (or BJ as he calls him.) Yes, these Rat boys are truly giants.

Of course the few amenities McKuen Manor offers our new friends pale compared to what we imagine Bruce Vilanch provides (and with jokes too) just up the hill. And imagine, if you will, the festivities around Arnold and Maria's pool. The mind bungles, boggles, blunders. I hear a Rodent couple really gave Whoopie's chef the 'what for' when all he offered them was a few celery sticks filled with Cheeze-Whiz.

While these creatures are seldom known to be quarrelsome Dave Geffen (he owns the old Warner estate down the block) is rumored to have seen two of the larger Beverly Rats carry off a young coyote to who knows where.

Please. Can’t we all just get along?

 - first published September 19, 2002

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ROD McKUEN CONCERTS & APPEARANCES

notable birthdays Boris Becker o Benjamin Britten o Hoagy Carmichael o Tom Conti o Jamie Lee Curtis o Rodney Dangerfield o Charles De Gaulle o John Nance Garner o Andre Gide o Terry Gilliam o Mariel Hemingway o Peter Hurford o Billie Jean King o Geraldine Page o Joaquin Rodrigo o Gunther Schuller
Rod's random thoughts Let nothing pass between friends that lacks foundation in truth.

I always glance from right to left while passing down a new road. I’d hate to miss the moment when it comes along.

I've have always been a man of elements, feeling that the best ideas and the nearest thing to knowledge have to spring from the most real of all realities - the sea, the earth, and the sky - rather than from history or philosophy books.

TRANSITION

Can you guess what's wrong ?
I've tried and failed
to rise above the breakers
to swift sail out of the storm.
Now the chance is going
                 if not gone.
Will you be the one
to start the argument tonight
or is it my turn, I forgot.

I wait here for a sign,
a motion wasted on me,
proof that it is possible
for each of us to care
       for each of us.

I cannot say
how long I've waited.
Years pass by within
a single hour
to those who feel uncared for.

Had there been a sign,
I would have know.

What goes on unseen
untold to us
         by one the other
is more real
than all the sentences
our senses spoke
          and speak.

I see your face and know
a tilting of your shoulder
speaks whole paragraphs aloud
whole stories filled with proof
that what is happening
is if anything a willful lie
both of us indulge in.

This much is fact.
You do not amaze me
with your dark indifference.
You never once astound me
by being only what
        you wish to be.

I await the crumbs just now
delighted that they come
from fresh bread
         lifted out of ovens
by some hidden master baker.

No pride moves ahead
to pave my way.

I have fast become
the dark parts
           of your shadow,
little more than your extension,
hardly more than your left arm.

It tires me to know
I'm just the casing
                     of a window
looking out beyond your world.

After I've packed up
                 and gone
fly a flag
should the intruder come.

Take care to give me
fresh reports of all the ships
and all the ducks and seagulls
that sail or waddle beachward.

Be sure to tell me
if the seals come back
                    this year
and how the house
gets through the winter.

Keep a diary of sorts
a notebook day to day
that I might thumb through
                  or pore over
when I'm living inland
         miles away.

                                - from "The Sea Around Me, " 1974, 1975

 
© 1970, 1974, 1975, 1986, 2002 by Stanyan Music Group & Rod McKuen. All Rights Reserved
Birthday research by Wade Alexander o Poetry from the collection of Jay Hagan o Coordinated by Melinda Smith o Sound & Fury Dr. Eric Yeager o Webmaster Ken Blackie
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