BONUS SONNET: On The iPod Belonging To My Sister

The thing has got more cheese than Tillamook,

My sister's iPod. It's a time machine.

The 80s live forever in her book

(She had a better time back as a teen).

Glass Tiger vies with Journey for her love,

And with Bad Company and Kiss and Bon

Jovi and Queen and Eminem and (of

That last she claims it's walking tunes upon

Which she depends to set the beat) and hey,

No Quarterflash? What's happened to this girl?

A-Ha, she's got that, salted with, I'll say

For fairness' sake, the Foo Fighters and -- pearl!

Some U2 and The Cure and Siouxsie Sioux

She's grown a bit since 1982.

In Which I Ponder The Daily Fetch-A-Thon That Is My Sister's Life With Her New Dog

The newest member of our fam'ly's pack

Of crazy dogs, mayhap the craziest

Is Krissy's, a lab mix, whose name is Jack.

Built like a tank, excitable and, yes,

Relentless as a charge of army ants.

His rubber ball must constantly be thrown,

Best into mud or grass, or bedding plants

Along the fence. Long after one has grown

Well sick of playing, after Jack's big tongue

Is coated in a slick of mud and grass

Well mixed with drool, that ball must still be flung

And flung some more, or else Jack will harrass

One with his slimy toys all day and night.

It's what he loves the most, as is his right.

In Which I Gloat Over A Well-Earned Beer

Someone's idea of heaven surely is

Hot chicks with power tools. He'd love today,

When Kris and I were same. To ruin his

Imaginings a bit, a cop held sway

O'er these proceedings; that would be our Dad,

Armed with a hammer, prybar and a scowl

I'd never want turned my way. Yes we've had

Us quite a time. Now I've thrown in the towel

For one day. I must say it ain't half bad,

This deck we built for Krissy, and we've earned

The Bud Light we are gulping on it now,

Exhausted, bleeding slightly and sunburned.

Our next item of bus'ness is some chow,

We'll grill up on my sister's brand-new grill.

Some dead cow and grilled corn, oh yes we will!

In Which I Become A Clock-Watching Fool

Two days from now, almost right to this hour
I'll be crammed in a nasty airplane seat
Bound for points west. It's barely in my pow'r
To keep my cool. Vacation time is sweet,
E'en when, as I shall do, it's to do work:
My sister's house did not come with a deck,
A common but a not-so-charming quirk
Which needs redressed quite soon; she'll be a wreck
Until the job is done. Sherrods do not
Do well without a place to sit outdoors,
Sip beer and watch the birds from a cool spot
(And by sip beer - that's anything but Coors).
Two days and counting down! Meanwhile I sit
At work on my Friday, and just fidget.

In Which I Ponder The Fairness Of Horse Trading

I'm not a big sports fan, ev'ryone knows --

But even I know when to cry out foul

(With help from Kris and Kevin). I oppose

This trading of Jay Cutler, join the howl

Of disapproval of this trade (though I've

A tiny snarky smile)! The drama of

Who didn't get along with whom -- I strive

To keep from laughing out loud, for all love --

They sound like spoiled, squabbling kids and one

Just picked up all his toys and went to find

Some other kids to play with. I'm 'bout done.

The Denver Broncos only cross my mind

When they've done something stupid anyway --

So really this is just another day.

In Which I Ponder A Happy Chain Reaction

It got its start when Kevin bought a house.
He is a bit carefree, I will just say.
My sister heard the news, began to grouse,
And came to the conclusion that she may
As well do so; if he could so could she.
She shopped around, and chose, and moved right in.
The dial took a spin and stopped on me.
I took the step, though not without chagrin.
I'm glad I did, and anyone who cares
May hear this tale, as did a pal of mine.
She caught the bug and now she boldly fares
Into the market, husband at her side.
Did Kevin start a cycle, or a tide?

And All I've Done So Far Is Make An Offer...

My sister dear, at this point in the game
(That game, of course, is buying property)
Predicted that the phrase I'd most proclaim
(And with this my homeowning friends agree):
Would be a variation on this one:
Oh holy cow, just what did I just do?
That's not to say the process isn't fun,
But with each stage it's harder to subdue
The urge to freak out, scream and run away.
The house is one I can afford to buy,
And also own. I've not been led astray
By anyone. The numbers say that I
Can do it, and I've certainly the will.
But thirty years of payments! I feel ill.

My Happiness Officer is Now Six Years Older Than Justin Timberlake. Haw!

A short while back, my sister said to him
"The Broncos coach is younger, now, than me!"
And Kevin quipped, because he's somewhat dim
"Most people are!" and laughed tee-hee with glee.
The world and time are catching up, though, now.
Our birthday boy has reached his thirty-third.
Though youthful looks continue to endow
His face, he's no spring chick, more an old bird.
His heroes just get younger; those sports stars
And pop icons that Kevin so admires
Would call him old if they met him in bars
Or in the wilderness at their bonfires.
But what the hell, let's give the guy his day,
Buy him some beers and tell him he's okay.