Poetry and pizza

[from the stabenow.com vaults, first posted February 14, 2004]

Two poems I found posted by the mid-watch on yellow sticky notes on a bridge window. I added the titles.

Night Watch

Cold wind blowin’
On the sea tonight
One screw turning’
One screw tight
Box steaming
In the lee tonight
Cold wind blowin’
On the sea

Davy Jones’ Plea

Please be careful overhead
When your leadsman casts the lead
My bedroom is the bottom of the sea
I used to walk the pitching decks
But now I haunt the deepest wrecks
So cast your lead with care and leave me be.

Both are signed BMC M. I believe that would be CPO Merrifield, who is an interesting guy. When he isn’t standing watch or training conn officers or running the deck crew during a docking or writing poetry, he hops in our helo to go check out a malfunctioning navigation light on the Alaska Peninsula. When they get there, they discover the light is a hundred feet in the air with no landing site next to it. The helo hovers next to the light and Chief Merrifield steps from the helo to the ground, unhitches his safety line from the helo and hitches it to the light and unpacks his tools. “How did you get back on the helo?” the captain asks. “I dove,” says Chief Merrifield.

The aviators took pictures. When I saw them I said, “No wonder some of you are buried out here.”

Coming In - 2/11/04

Tonight I was drafted into working pizza night with the Chiefs (there is a price to be paid for bunking with Chief Jamison). This has been much discussed in the Chiefs’ mess, and my bet is on Chief Affinito for best pizza, because he speaks without fear of ingredients like artichoke hearts and basil and provolone, and all anybody else is talking about is pepperoni. My judgement is entirely justified and in spite of all the whining on the serving line I notice that all four of our pizzas are gone by the end of chow, so there.


Click here to order a copy.

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Plum Pudding Muffins and S&M

The writer of the delightful Phryne Fisher series jumps nine decades into the future, to bring us Corinna Chapman, baker. Corinna lives and bakes in present day Melbourne, Australia, in one of the truly great buildings of fiction, the Insula, eight stories covered in peacock blue tiles where each apartment is named for a Roman god or goddess and decorated accordingly. Someone is terrorizing the women in the building with poison pen letters, graffiti and vandalism, and someone else is killing junkies on Corinna’s very doorstep. Of course she takes action, however reluctantly, and along the way we meet her friends and neighbors, including Meroe the witch

I believe in absolutely nothing except yeast and the inevitability of politicians, so Meroe and I have agreed not to discuss it. Thus we have stayed friends.

the Lone Gunmen, whose tech shop Corinna describes thusly

The walls were painted black just like every nerd’s bedroom, and were layered with posters for each new video game. I would bet that somewhere right against the paint there would be an ad announcing Pac Man. Someone was lurking behind the counter, trying to stay out of direct sunlight and reading William Gibson.

and her two employees, Kylie and Gossamer

It was no use trying to describe either of them by mundane things like hair or eye colour. These could change overnight. At the moment Gossamer had greenish hair and bright green contacts in…Kylie had had pink hair and her own eyes, which are blue. Or so I believe…The only way I could be sure about their identity was their navels, which were always on display. Kylie had a silver ring with a blue stone in it in hers which is round and flat. Gossamer has a gold ring in hers, and it tends to have a lip on the upper rim…Otherwise they really could be twins.

Not forgetting Daniel, the hunky PI, Jason, the recovering heroin addict slash apprentice, the Mouse Police, aka Rodent Patrol Officers Heckle and Jeckle, and her partner, Horatio

…a gentlemanly cat [who] considers it impolite to hurry his food. Besides, he needs to remove every crumb from his whiskers before he steps down to the meet the Mouse Police, a rough but pleasant pair, far removed from him in elegance. Horatio is an aristocrat. I occasionally feel that I am unable to meet his stringent requirements for suitable conduct in a Lady.

The plot takes Corinna in some decidedly new directions, not least of which is a private S&M club, and no matter what she says at the end

Memo to the universe re Corinna Chapman as an investigator: I quit.

we know she lies. Partly because there are three more books in the series, upon which I am soon to embark. The icing on the cake, or in this case, muffins? There are recipes. Yummmmmmm…

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I wouldn’t know how to use either.

Redundant Calculator.

[From Partners & Spade, bwo of Laughing Squid.]

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