Emily and Jonah
aglow on Wacky Pants Day
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For My Son
Jim
You lost your way!
Along with many of
Your peers, you found yourself in lands unknown.
You stumbled on just like a traveler
Who leaves the well-known trail and comes upon
A forest deep and dark that promises
Some strange and
wondrous sights. He plunges in.
He blunders round about, but cannot find
The wonders that he sought; and now, concerned,
He seeks a pathway back; but none is there,
And he is lost forever in the woods.
Unfortunately for
too many of
The lost ones of the sixties there is no
Return. The horrors of the war, combined
With loss of faith in many of the age-Old values that
sustain the rest of us,
Have cut too deep a scar. They're truly lost.
Like them you
struggled too, but you refused
To quit. You scrambled over many paths
Until you came upon the one that brought
You out of your own private forest to
A place of your own choice. You've found your way.
Milton Paisner,
1983
Milton
Paisner has lectured on Mythology and the
writings of Mark Twain at the college level; he has also
worked as a salesman and headed a state chapter of Common
Cause. He has studied Latin, French, Spanish, Italian,
and Japanese.He is father to Jim, and grandfather to
Jonah. You can reach him at mzpaisner@erols.com
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P O E T R Y N
O T E S
By Jonah H. Paisner
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Soft
Ball
She of the
Harlequin romance novels
sits
on wetted bleachers
touched by the rains
Her lover is nearby
with his brethren
She looks upon him with awe
and wonders
at his ability to swill beer
and chew tobacco
simultaneously
The air is filled
with the lackluster screams
of other womenfolk
like herself
Their panties also slowly becoming moist from the soaking
wood and not,
as her screaming, belching, farting lover thinks, for his
manly display of soft, but bulging biceps showing through
cut-off t-shirt
Is it any surprise
it is numbered
sixty-nine?
Yet, despite the chaos
intimate exchanges are shared
of well packed Marlboro Lights
and strings of curses
at the umpire's obvious favoritism
of the opposing team
Testosterone flows thick
on currents of cigarette smoke
and runs in rivers of spit
between muddied cleats
These are the nights of summer
Out beyond the borders of the city
Where hearts are won and lost
on the smashing of soft balls
Sonia
Montalbano '96 is former editor of Letter
of the Law. Though she makes her living using her law
degree, that has not gotten in the way of her writing
(her preferred activity). She is currently a
semi-finalist for Portland's National Poetry Slam Team.
Ms. Montalbano and others of her ilk perform cutthroat
poetry every last Wednesday of the month at the Berbati's
Pan poetry slam. [see below for details -ed]
EVENTS
 Wacky
Recap: Thanks to all of you loyal
readers, Wacky Pants 1998 was a fabulous success. Beer
was drunk and pants were worn. For a full report, please
head to pants headquarters and prepare to be dazzled.
I
want my Wacky Pants!
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Finals: Typical of a poet.
You're facing grueling exams and all they do is talk in
generalities. "Wisdom." Who needs that, anyway!? I don't
know about you, but my exam books will be crammed with
catchy sayings and little tidbits of my life's learning.
Isn't that what professors mean when they say discuss the
"policy" behind the rule? Alright, Honesty is the best
policy...[lame hackneyed expression
intended]
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Poetry
Readings: These days it's a
bit out of style to suddenly start break-dancing in
public places. Similarly it is out of style to spend an
evening anywhere other than at a bar drinking and
whiling the time away. It would be silly for me to
persuade you, since your social life is quite rightly
your own. So then, why not consider it a primal duty?
Take your friends to a reading. Mark your calendar
today.
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Cafe Lena, 2239 SE
Hawthorne Blvd., Portland, OR, (503) 238-7087
• Every Tuesday at a cozy space in
southeast Portland with food, drinks, and a
smoke-free environment. Arrive at 8:30 p.m. to
sign up, 9:00 p.m. to hear poetry. •
Next event: 12/8/98
In Other Words Bookstore, 3734 SE
Hawthorne Blvd., Portland, OR, (503) 232-6003
• Last Friday of every month; arrive at
8:30 p.m. to sign up, 9:00 p.m. to hear poetry.
These are WOMEN-only readings! Guys are welcome
to cheer along in the audience. Next event:
see you in 1999!
Berbati's Pan, 231 SW Ankeny,
Portland, OR, (503) 248-4579 Very dark and
smoky. Poets read from a stage. Last Wednesday
of every month. Arrive at 7:30 p.m. to sign up,
8:30 p.m. to hear poetry. Next event:
12-30-98
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"Act your age, not your shoe size." That's
something kids say to each other, echoing the
frumpishness of their parents, testing out the feel of a
stern intonation. For most of us, our age was
exactly our shoe size when in kindergarten we
first let this this insult fly out during recess or after
school.
Now that we're adults, we more often hear the clipped
"act your age!" But somehow what was once an
admonishment to act mature has itself become a childish
utterance about shoes. Young and old, we look to . . .
the old--or at least the "older"--as the standard bearers
of good judgment. Is it something about the wear on the
body or the logging of wakeful hours that imbues the aged
with a magical quality--a quality toward which we aspire?
Here, we ask the questions. For answers, I rely on each
of you to search deeply. But to assist you, some
poetry.
It didn't take getting old for these two authors to gleam
their wisdom. This month we feature poems written by a
recent graduate of this law school and former Editor of
Letter of the Law, as well as one by my
septuagenarian grandfather written for his son. As you
read Sonia's poem Soft Ball, allow the phrase
"wise beyond years" to ring in your mind. Predictably, I
ask that you repeat to yourself, mantra-like, "old and
wise" as you read Milton's poem about my father Jim.
Although it's not clear exactly what this mockish
exercise will accomplish, it's possible that you will
have an epiphany on this subject. Ideally, your own inner
wisdom will be piqued. Much as a powerful theme serves as
the backbone to any worthwhile story, your own wisdom
serves as your bedrock and core. When ethics, tastes, and
mere opinions fail, we reach for what is wise within
us.
By the way, don't confuse any of what you have read above
with actual wisdom. In fact, if anyone ever tries to
share "a bit of wisdom" with you, you can pretty much
shut it out and start going down your ToDo list or
recalling what you ate for breakfast. Because wisdom is
applied knowledge. Facts and formulae are only the
building blocks for a transformational process that you
must undergo voluntarily. And now, the much awaited
last corny saying of the month: the learning is in
the doing.
Okay, you can stop thinking about your ToDo list now.
Gang of Wacked-out Pants
wearers. Look out.
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