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Friday, December 07, 2018

Still Ticking

—Poems by Michael Ceraolo, S. Euclid, OH
—Anonymous Winter Photos



A BELATED, THREE-QUARTER-HEARTED APOLOGY

It was sometime
during my senior year of high school,
either late 1975
or early 1976,
I don't remember which,
                                    though
I do remember wearing a winter coat
when heading there
My French IV class went one evening
to one of the local colleges,
John Carroll University,
whose French Department was staging
a production of Racine's Phedre
(Phaedra for those opposed to French)

In one of the climactic moments
in Act V,
              the heroine kneels down,
puts her ear to the supine hero's chest,
and makes a dramatic utterance
in French alexandrines
                                    From those
who either weren't strong in French
or weren't familiar with the play
in English translation,
                                came the whispered
What did she say?
What did she say?

                               And I,
keeping in mind the ubiquity
of John Cameron Swayze's
Timex watch commercials,
                                        said
It's still ticking

At least six rows of the audience
erupted in laughter at my remark,
and though neither of the actors
onstage was a professional,
they were unfazed by laughter
at a moment in the production
calling for the opposite response;
they continued on the finish
without missing a best,
and then took their bows to a round
of well-deserved applause

Forty-plus years later,
I would like to apologize,
                                     and
perhaps satisfy their curiosity
as to what prompted the laughter






CLEVELAND HAIKU #523

Frozen winter moon—
seventeen below zero
on my fifth birthday

* * *

CLEVELAND HAIKU #524

Prolonged spring fever—
weather doesn't coincide
with the calendar

* * *

CLEVELAND HAIKU #526

Fishing spot—
discarded lures wound around
an electric wire






2077 CAMPUS ROAD

It is near the boundary of two watersheds,
a little ways down the road
from Notre Dame College,
                                       and
it's a little bit boxier
than the rest of the surrounding houses
But when it was built in 1932
it was not merely distinctive,
it was pioneering:
                            the first
one of its kind built anywhere

The Ferro Corporation,
first incorporated in 1919
as the Ferro Enamel Corporation,
decided in the depths of the Great Depression
to build an experimental model home
at the above address
as a way to showcase other applications
of its relatively new product,
porcelain enamel

(porcelain enamel, aka enameled steel—
a thin coating of glass fused to the metal
at temperatures between 750 and 850 degrees Celsius—
1,380 to 1,560 degrees Fahrenheit)

The house was designed by
local architect Charles Bacon Rowley
(designer of
the Shaker Heights Public Library,
the Mayfield Country Club,
the Clifton Club,
                         and
several schools and other houses locally
as well as three halls at Kenyon College
and buildings in Cape Cod;
some are gone, some remain)

With a steel frame,
and the porcelain enamel used as siding,
it had two main selling points:
it was fireproof,
                       and
the exterior never needed painting
A similar design would be used
the next year for a house at Chicago's
Century of Progress Expo,
                                       and
porcelain enamel was a major component
in the prefabricated Lustron homes
built after World War II

Today, without trespassing
I can't tell if the porcelain enamel
is still in place; I find out later
it has been covered with vinyl siding
(because of rust?),
one of the many changes one might expect
in a house over eighty years old

There is, as of yet,
no historical marker on the site






Today’s LittleNip:

The discipline of writing something down is the first step toward making it happen.

—Lee Iococca

_____________________

—Medusa, with thanks to Michael Ceraolo for his fine poetry today!



 —Anonymous Photo
Celebrate poetry!










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