It began as the GODFATHER OF MATH, evolved into the GOODFATHER OF MATH. Now this. Go figure...

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The kind of humor I like is the thing that makes me laugh for five seconds and think for ten minutes = G. CARLIN...Stain glass, engraved glass, frosted glass
–give me plain glass = JOHN FOWLES ... Music is the mathematics of the gods=PYTHAGORAS ... Nothing is more fluid than language = R. L. SWIHART
I cannot live without the oxygen of laughter = DAWN POWELL ... !!! ... But laughter cannot survive without the hydrogen of gravitas = PAUL OLIVERIO
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Friday, July 30, 2021

© Autobiography Of No One In Particular © ... 1 More Chapter

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Chapter 16
 
"The circumnavigations
of the calendar"
is a phrase
I approximately used
in a previous chapter
 
I wrote it for 
no one in particular
because no one
should be subjected to
such ornery phrasing 
unless they understand
the poetic equivalent
of saying
as another year goes by
 
I've had 72 of them
but Plato didn't know
Vanna White or Pat Sajak
and
The Wheel of Fortune
 
I can spin my own wheel,
land on any year 
 and weave a yarn 
related to that year
 
That is, 
Mr. No One In Particular
can conjure up
seventy-two memories
given
seventy-two
different spins
 
I hereby spin the wheel 
and land on 1981
more particularly:
May 7, 1981
 
I was in a lawyer's office
somewhere
on the North Shore
of Long Island
 
I distinctly remember
shaking hands
with Vincent King,
wishing him and his family well
and vice-versa
 
The next day,
me and my Volkswagen Rabbit
—with all my life's possessions—
were California-bound
 
Vincent's family consisted of a wife
and three children
 
None of those children
had ever met
their maternal grandparents
who were originally 
my Mother and Father
 
Obviously,
that means their mother
was my sister
 
We had just attended
the closing of the sale
of our house 
  in Rocky Point
The house that was
a stone's throw
from this particular sight
 
Having the North Shore
of Long Island 
 in our "backyard"
qualified me as
a beach bum,
despite having never surfed
nor desiring 
to ever do so 
 
The house was in
the Oliverio family
for twenty-two years
but would never, ever
have been ours
if it weren't for 
the blood, sweat, and toil
of Sam and Grace Oliverio
 
The grandchildren
they never met
could not have been
in better hands than
those of my sister
and Vincent King
 
Their stupid Uncle
would tirelessly tell stories
about the missing grandparents
but always with his tear ducts
in constant motion
 
Neither did the grandchildren
ever meet Aunt Linda
who started pushing daisies
four years after
Sam and Grace
started doing so
and three years before
the eldest of the King children
was born
 
 
Linda was eighteen
and I was fifteen
when this photograph 
was taken
 
Our younger sister,
[the future wife of Vincent King]
was a nine-year-old girl
who was standing
right in front of us,
alongside the photographer
 
That would have been
either our Mother or Father
with the other
looking out the living room window
of our Whitestone home
 
At that time,
the house in Rocky Point
was our "summer home"
 
Then along came
that ubiquitous trickster
 
Death got the best
of my family,
carting off
three-fifths of it
by 1975

 Vincent King
resembled an architect 
in every way possible
except for the paycheck
 
Four years ago,
he had a massive stroke
 
Eight days ago,
my sister 
and her three adult children
were at Vincent's bedside
 
The next day,
my brother-in-law
 passed away
 
R.I.P.
Vincent
  ***
 

The next chapters
are  here
 
The first chapters
of this autobiography
are  there 
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