Rainey Blogs on Some Days

In recent years, I've noticed that I do not readily jump up in October, run upstairs and pull the air conditioners out of the windows, and take them down the stairs into the basement to store them away for the winter. I had realized this last November when I took those burdensome boxes out of the bedroom windows and carried them down. This made me think that I was in pretty good shape, especially since our bedroom air conditioner was about 30 years old and was huge, heavy, and unruly. My body managed to get the AC down to the basement by myself (a drawback in life of having only daughters), but my mind kept telling me with each precarious step down the stairs “you're getting older, you've got nothing left to prove, you don't need this, so just stop using this ancient old heavy air conditioner and replace it with a new, lighter one.” This annual rite of passage with the air conditioner is a way I've watched myself age over the past ten years. There were years whe...

Original Draft of "Barbecue Grill," from Touching Other Worlds, pg. 1   Original Draft of "Barbecue Grill," from Touching Other Worlds, pg. 2

Now that my book has been out for over a year now, I've gotten lots of good feedback by email and in person at book and poetry readings. Here's what people are saying about Touching Other Worlds : “ Not horrible . . .” “ Brave . . .” “ Better than I thought it might be.” “ He'll be a good writer some day!” “ Finally some manly poetry for a change.” “ Not half bad, especially for a descendant of Midwestern farmers.” “ Very rare collection, indeed . . .” “ Liked it better than I thought I would.” “ Moved me to tears . . .” “ This poetry is definitely other-worldly . . .” “ Rainey's poetry is unbelievable . . . unimaginable” “ Reminded me of buses and diesel fumes . . .” “ Woven in transluscence throughout . . .” “ Lifted me out of the doldrums” “ Waiting for the German translation.”

The winds started in on Monday and apparently gusted to almost 90 mph. Our big tree survived in front in the high winds, but power went out Monday evening and still hasn't been restored. Just in case, I tied my leg to the bedpost during the height of the storm because it was really windy. We are partying like its 1899, playing board games and sleeping good in the deep darkness without light pollution. It gets a little chilly, but not bad. Water heater works--notice I didn't say "hot" water heater!--so we do get warm showers. My work has been up and running since Tuesday, so I made it in on Wednesday and can get on the Internet from here. I drove 24 miles to work this morning and saw only three gas stations with gas. Each had lines of 1/4 to 3/4 mile long. I've heard the people were acting really nice. I've been fortunate since Marcia sat in the car in line on Wednesday for an hour and filled up my car. It looks a little like Russia here, or at least what I i...

My first book, Touching Other Worlds , a collection of poetry, is vailable for free downloads on Amazon on Sunday, 10/21/12 and Monday, 10/22/12. I got mixed up on the start date. You can go to http://goo.gl/1MkrG to get one starting tomorrow. There is no catch. This is a free promotion. If you like it and want to review it, feel free to do that on the Amazon site. If you "like" the book, go to the title of the book link above and like it on Facebook. Here's what people saying about my book: "It's not horrible." "Not as bad as I thought it might be!" "Better than a lot of stuff I've read."

A local Northern New Jersey man from Leonia  reported that he was sternly rebuked at the Ramsey (New Jersey) Public Library recently for throwing two empty plastic water bottles into a garbage can rather than a nearby recycling container. “I work near the library, but hadn't been there in a few months. On a whim while driving back from the gym, I decided to stop in and look for some jazz CDs. As I was getting out of my car, I noticed a couple of empty water bottles and an old Wall Street Journal on the rear floorboard of the car." (Actually, he said this is true of nearly every time he gets out of the car.) “I struggle with unread newspaper guilt, so it is very difficult for me to throw out a newspaper that I've not read, let alone opened. But the bottles were a no-brainer,” said the man, who preferred to remain anonymous. The man reported that he walked toward the recently-renovated library and was surprised to find no garbage cans outside. “I mean, c'mon, ...

I watched summer be laid to rest last Labor Day night as lifeguards removed all signs of life from the Leonia pool while a faithful few held on for the final moments with their beloved. This was more like a hospital vigil than anything I've ever seen. Everyone knew death was imminent, and wanted to be there for the final moments when they pulled the plug and summer succumbed to lifelessness. Any other day at the pool, there is laughing, splashing, relaxing, reading, and lap swimming. But yesterday, people at the pool were somber, ashen-faced, and tense. Summer was in critical condition, something hard to believe when temperatures remain so warm that you have to use the air conditioning at home. Surely we could swim well into October this year if someone would just let us do it. But they won't. During summer's final hour, lifeguards lifted the lap lane lines out of the pool and dragged them away while several adults swam their final laps of the year without any way to res...

Middle-aged men in summer have one thing on their minds: barbecue grills. Women in bathing suits are no match for a man's thrill at firing up his barbecue grill. The primal instincts of the hunter-gatherer can only find fulfillment in the sizzle and pop of a flank steak lined with the grid of the grill after each flip of the grill-master. The smoke rises as the warrior-king sends smoke signals into the sky to indicate another conquest as imagined in a bygone primal century. I recently had trouble with my grill, which would only heat up to about 200 degrees even though I had tried two full propane tanks, neither of which would work. This bout of grill impotence was unnerving because men measure their summer manhood by their barbecue-ability. It lasted about two months over summer and even stretched into September. Time after time I returned to the house with half-cooked morsels of meat as I was unable to finish the job. I took the grill apart, cleaned it, and put it back toge...

An article in this month's Poets & Writers magazine entitled “The Art of Brand Naming” by Margaret Wolfson tells the story of Ivory soap. (The article is only available to subscribers of the magazine.) Originally, it was called “White Soap” by Procter and Gamble's James Gamble. His partner, Harley Procter, felt they needed a better name for the new soap. Procter found inspiration for a new name at his church while he was listening to a recitation of Psalm 45: All thy garments smell of myrrh, and aloes, and cassia, out of the ivory palaces, whereby they have made thee glad (Psalm 45:8). White Soap or Ivory ? Sometimes a name can make all the difference!

On the first day of the week we came together to break bread. Paul spoke to the people and, because he intended to leave the next day, kept on talking until midnight. There were many lamps in the upstairs room where we were meeting. Seated in a window was a young man named Eutychus, who was sinking into a deep sleep as Paul talked on and on. When he was sound asleep, he fell to the ground from the third story and was picked up dead. Paul went down, threw himself on the young man and put his arms around him. “Don’t be alarmed,” he said. “He’s alive!” Then he went upstairs again and broke bread and ate. After talking until daylight, he left. The people took the young man home alive and were greatly comforted. (Acts 20:7-12, NIV Bible). I made a serious effort not to fall asleep today in our church service, even though the text above shows that you might receive a miracle if you fall asleep. Not falling asleep is especially important for me since I am a volunteer assistant pastor at ou...

I have started a movie script called “La Yogert.” The movie will be based on my personal experiences with the yogurt of a similar name ( La Yogurt ). In the movie, a young corporate executive, whose wife decides she does not love him anymore, decides to make him miserable each day by making his lunches. This may not seem like an evil plot--quite the opposite in fact--until the woman starts putting a single, Pina Colada, six-ounce container of La Yogert yogurt in his lunch each day. If you've ever eaten an actual La Yogurt yogurt, you know that the woman does not need to tamper with the yogurt. The yogurt will know what to do. Those who have eaten La Yogurt knows that removing the foil lid from a La Yogurt  will ALWAYS result in a splattering of yogurt somewhere on the opener's person: face, clothes, hands, forearms, maybe even on the wall! The husband laughs about his first splatter of La Yogert (called La Yogert in the movie to avoid copyright infringement against the actu...

Swim meets have always been magical, and in recent years we had a run of several years with three girls swimming for the Leonia Swim Club team at once. But all good things come to an end, and after the first meet of the 2010 swim season in Oradell, we drove to our special, post-meet restaurant to eat in Paramus: The Fireplace . We had eaten there a few years earlier after a meet and were hooked on this retro 1950s-like hamburger and French fries joint with a wood paneling interior. They don't use plates; instead, they give what looks like a paper coffee filter and put each item on a filter. We all loved the quirky, old-fashioned feel and it became a special place we would go to eat once or twice each year after an away swim meet in the Paramus area. This time, though, the magic had worn off. Maybe it was the week of 100-degree weather we were having that had everyone on edge. Maybe it was the realization that a cheeseburger, fries, and a vanilla milkshake is just not that goo...

I've always thought I might be a good fit for a Montessori church.

She [Rosie] was seizing the day her way—a made bed meant you were in their world. All kids wanted to dive into bed and be lying down safely, especially until about noon. --Anne Lamott, Imperfect Birds , 154. At my age, sleeping in is no longer a gift. I suppose because I recognize that one never knows how many more mornings of coffee, cool air, and cardinals singing cacophonous songs there are to go. So in middle age, sleeping in seems more like a punishment. This is a big difference between us and the mutant ninja teenagers, who still have so much of life ahead that sleeping until noon seems like a rationale thing to do. But for me, getting up early while the streets are silent and the sun is rubbing its sleepy eyes, starting its daily ascent, is so much better than rising up into a bright midday sun. I am not opposed to an afternoon nap now and again though.

Here are a few good reasons why I think girls should play softball in the springtime: 1. You don't have to be in shape. Running is minimal and only in short bursts between bases. 2. You get to play in dirt and get muddy. Yesss! In fact, good players often get the dirtiest. 3. You get to use your arms! What a waste the arms are in soccer except for the goalie. In softball, girls can use their arms and hands all of the time and it's not illegal! You catch, throw, and bat and get to use those arms. 4. You get to swing a bat! This is a skill for life. I even have a bat next to our front door for security purposes. If I hadn't played the game, I would have had to buy an alarm system for my house. Think of all of the money I saved! The girls will learn to use a bat properly and it may come in handy later in life. 5. You learn to accept individual blame for mistakes. In soccer, everything is the goalie's fault. In softball, every player gets to learn to deal with the...

My wife and I finally broke out of our routine about three weeks ago on a Monday night and went on a date to see a one-woman off-off Broadway show called “ Grapefruit ,” which was about a woman's experience with a tumor the size of one of those special fruits. The sobering subject of the play notwithstanding, I was reminded of why I love to live near New York City. While driving into the city on the West Side Highway, I finally was stopped at a traffic light for the first time in the 50s and looked over to my right to see two guys riding on a bicycle built for two. The person in front sat on seat that was the normal height. However, the rear of the bike had been modified so that the seat for the rider in the back was about six feet in the air, meaning the rider was sitting high in the air pedaling away. I had never seen anything quite like it, and the only thing that could have made it better would have been if the one in back had been wearing a Roman gladiator helmet with ...