Ded Jimmy Gets a Haircut

This is an almost-finished poem for my poetry book “Ded Jimmy: Poems with Illy-strations.” The drawings turned out well, especially with the barber. The poem itself is still being reworked. Please feel free to comment on your impression of it as a whole. I can’t format it right with the pictures full size, so you’ll need to click through.

Ded Jimmy Gets a Haircut

“What about a haircut?” Ded Jimmy said,
Patting the hair on his round curly head.
“In such a short time my crown’s gone askew
It must be time to procure a new do.”
jimmy-wig.png
The man was not far, it was quite a short walk
Jimmy sat in the chair and they started to talk
About sports and items political, too.
“I’m right,” said the barber. “I’ll prove it to you.”

He hmmed and he hummed over Ded Jimmy’s hair
And asked him politely what was wrong with it there.
“It’s lovely,” he said. “You really look good.”
Ded Jimmy replied “Why thank you, dude!”

But I wish it were shorn, for it’s really quite hot.
It makes my head sweaty. It itches a lot!
I thank you for your kind words and all that you’ve said,
But please do this for me and shave my poor head.
barber-chair1.png
“I shall,” said the man. “Though it pains me a bit”
And he fussed with the comb as his brows knit
In thought and ideas as he readied the scissors.
“If I had this hair, my true love would I kiss her.”

“I am jealous, it’s true. You don’t know how lucky
You are. But too bad, I better start plucking.”
With a frown on his face he plunged the comb in
To the thick vibrant locks much to his chagrin.

But as he pulled up a lock to make the first snip,
He felt not a tug, not a stop, not a rip.
For skelling-tons do not grow hair like us folk
Someone had played on Ded Jimmy a joke.

For to the amazed barber’s eyes the hair lifted off
Leaving a bony white head in need of a buff.
He blinked in surprise and showed the dead boy
“Someone has fooled you,” he said, hiding his joy.

“The wig is undamaged! Beautiful, too!”
“Why it is,” Jimmy said, “So I’ll give it to you.
“Use it tonight, surprise your one true.”
“Why,” said the barber, “I must thank you.”

He took a fresh cloth and wetted it down
And swept over and on and around
Young Ded Jimmy’s head until it positively shone
Bright white and shiny. An enviable dome.

They shook hands and Jim left with a spring in his feet
Whistling a tune as he hopped down the street.
The barber looked after, standing outside the store.
He smiled, walked in, and shut the wide door.

The Villainny of Hugs

I find the state of embracing a disappointing point of living in America.  In my time as a kid-enabler, I have learned so many things about not touching.  It is, naturally, to protect myself.  At camp, side hugs are the norm.  We aren’t to initiate as that could lead to trouble.  For if a child were to say anything, we are guilty until proven innocent.  The job is gone, we are gone.

Which is sad.  Because kids need hugs.

My main thought today is the taboo involved with men hugging men.  Why is this still a problem?   Personally, I think the reason young boys are so physical with each other is because it is not considered healthy for them to hug.  At what age does this happen?

When working with pre-K, those kids are ready for an embrace.  It helps calm them down and makes them feel valued.  Here in Oklahoma, thankfully, it doesn’t seem to be a problem.  Back home with school groups it seemed a bit more pronounced.  Adults who work with kids are scared to touch their students.  I suppose some think this is a step forward, but I think it’s terrible.

There’s nothing wrong with affection.  Kids need to learn that it’s okay to show platonic affection.  I feel its partly to blame for some of the things they do behind closed doors, but right now my brain isn’t finding a good way to express that thought.

Boys especially need to learn that it is okay.  As I grew up it became okay as we got older but there was quite a long period in grade school where accidentally brushing hands with each other was homophobic.  This is not good.  It makes it very hard for the kids who know they are gay to let it out.

Sometimes, people make me sick.

Off My Chest

I’d like to talk to all you old people out there.  I enjoy your long stories.  Several are quite entertaining.  But something bothers me.

Programming VCRs.  First of all, complaining that you cannot program a VCR is not funny.  VCRs are things unused by most.  Many youngish folks will say “What’s that?” to your attempt at humor.

Of course, VCRs have been around for over twenty years.  If you still can’t program one, one of two things is true.

1)  You never bothered to learn.
2)  You are an idiot.

If your lack of VCR knowledge is purposeful because you are a hater of all things techie, I first wonder how you are reading this.  Aside from that, I have no problem.  You probably aren’t the sort to make jokes.  If you just haven’t tried, you are an idiot.  You put the tape in.  You press play.

That’s the button with the triangle.

If you can’t use a DVD player, you’re really in need of help.  There are people in retirement homes playing the Wii, and you can’t use a simple arrow/button combo.  I have no sympathy.