Baby Photos

Eyes pin-pricked to
keep light from entering and tears

from escaping; worried shut,
in glances, trying not to confirm

Paul Simon’s Myth of Fingerprints.

I, alone, invested with
thoughts and traces of lineage

thought and traced
my unknown mother

here: stale bed guarded by ghosts
in stiff white uniforms.

Stale sticky linens grasp at
her feet and thighs—not even the comfort of
crisp cool white

at the last; no chance in this
hell to win the part of the angel by the hearth.

I stand by my mother of fifteen minutes
imagining for her a fear and hatred

mistrust of doctors and best
interests, of anything besides

comfort in the firm reality of a baby’s wail.
I’m here, mama, you can stop

scanning the doorway and the ceiling
wishing for pictures better than

the dark-splotched memories of
fearful youth

I’m here, mama,
even if you don’t remember my name.


Spring 2005

Discarded Script

Sometimes I miss it
the calm assurance of nothing
the freedom of being whomever
of reading the lines for the character I'd scripted
the beauty of acting and the innocent
hope that the fairy tale would come true
and that there could be proven some
veracity to the adage that opposites attract
from moonlit backyard fast-food picnics
with one heart in earnest
the other in playful mockery of it
Well intentioned phone calls
Playing kickball with children in a hedge
Lying in the dark, hoping, praying for
a spoken kinship of heart that would never come
Sometimes I miss it
Most of the time I don't.

Fall 1996

The Color Red

I am the stranger in the dark
the whistling of the wind outside
your window on a frozen night
I am the face that you looked at
and wished you hadn't because
it was the beginning of the end.
There is a conditioned response to the color red.
You can't help the warning lights and buzzers
because you couldn't stop staring
and went insane
because you turned away quickly, sobbing
because you know in the end I'll be back for you .
The void, the cold, the fear
and you'll struggle every step of the
way because I'm leading you with
your hand frozen in mine.

Spring 1997

All In

Am I wrong to cry your forgiveness?
For so long I championed your heart
even later when I secretly held you responsible
Can I be held accountable for a promise
that you wouldn't let me keep.
It haunts me like treasured memories
mapping pirate hoard
A game.
or enigma wrapped in a riddle
with a gamble at a higher stake
I folded while I was ahead
and left the table to make my tally
I thought I could walk away
and leave those other cards on the table
But I'm flushed
sitting in the dark trying to sleep
and the memories
The thought of our hands brushing as we
pick up the cards cut to us
It's unsettling
All this I have to tell you so I can get to sleep
That I got tired
I never lied except to myself
And my heart still races when I hear your voice
to be that myth, and be surprised by an embrace from behind
But I've found my partner for playing hearts
and sometimes building bridges, until we meet our spades
I still think of you and love you
Goodnight Elizabeth.

Summer 1998

Tarnished Image

Chapel of night
with incense of pine
I remember being here before
on my knees with a broken heart
and it felt better than I do now

As the darkness fades
so does the weight on my heart
The light is too harsh
and doesn't reflect this
emptiness that stars can

Who is this void and
what can ever fill him again?
His head bowed in wonder and admiration
While his mouth mocks his maker
and calls death upon himself

He plucks at the bloom of
what was once Faith
and in proxy sits
the flower of conversation
a plastic arrangement His arid words sow
discontent and a drought
from his heart copies the void in him

Be sure of your allegiance
while you can still be sure of it
When you draw your Ace of Spades
Death comes swiftly and silently
even through the loudest cries and lonely months

Break me again
Bind this haughty heart
with grace until it cries in blood

Crush those guilty memories
of impetuous youth in your hand
and destroy those bonds which hold me to them

I am unregenerate
I am selfish
I am lustful
I am trying to give you control
I am
I was that which you are
You are beautiful
You are perfect
You are jealous
You are merciful

Give me that chapel of night
That candelabra of worlds
That Spirit of worship
That feeling of Peace.

Summer 1998

Desert Song

Dry and dusty I am blown
All these miles gone from home
Let the thought of you cover me warm.
I seek my shelter from this storm.

That's my life, how I want to live.
One of these days it'll be all I've left to give
Living on a love I had never hoped to find
Girl I'm living a dream because I know that you are mine.

Waking because you are morning
and this day will bring me a little bit closer home
no matter how far I wander
You are with me no matter how far I roam.

That's my life, how I want to live.
One of these days it'll be all I've left to give
Living on a love I had never hoped to find
Girl I'm living a dream because I know that you are mine.

Dry and dusty I am blown
Each new mile is another one closer home
I pull the thought of you over me warm
and take my shelter from this storm.

That's my life, how I'm gonna' live.
I thank the Lord, 'cause all I have He gives
Living on a love I had never hoped to find
Girl I'm living a dream because I know that you are mine.

Summer 1999

Questions for my children

Someday
A small voice will respond to this
Tired gruff one
As Daddy.
Someday
A small hand will grasp
A finger of this calloused hand
And feel safe.
Someday my hands will caress
A life I will have been entrusted with.
How do I look into her eyes
Knowing I've hurt others?
How do I correct his ways
When I know my own?
What do I tell them
When they ask
How do I tell them
There are times to rush at the goal
And times to walk leisurely?
How do I teach them to know the difference?
How do I know?

Summer 1999

White Hands

Red hands bloodied by four hundred years
And not at least one drop has permeated this skin.
Black hands, blackened only by the ink in which I immerse them.
I need more to continue this
I need experience I can call my own
I hold up white hands to help
And know that I am still not ready because
I think of them this way.
When my hands are ready that is all they will be.
Ready hands

Spring 2000

Do this in remembrance

I believe in truth
I believe in simplicity
I believe in absolutes
I believe that purity is a gift,
not an accomplishment
I believe in God
and his counterpart
I believe that music has power
to create and destroy
I believe that fiction is sometimes
more real than life
I believe in love
I believe in light
I believe in blackness
I believe in denial
I believe that all great men
are humble
I believe that size encompasses everything
I believe that a genuine smile encompasses heaven
and a cold shoulder, hell
I believe that three AM is the witching hour
I believe that a person can reveal more
through their eyes than through their mouth
I believe that friendship is a prize worth
fighting for
I believe in my potential
I believe in those who question my motives
I believe that I don't know everything
I believe I'll find out one of these day

Spring 2000

And counting

A decade past deciding
three hundred fifteen million seconds
and a lifetime away

Even now, that powerful wave of time at my back,
I know as much about my father as before
and he easily sums me in a plaque

Last night's telephone call tells me he is tired
as ever
I hear joy and hope in his voice
and wonder how many seconds
past hanging up that it will last

Three hundred fifteen million
little freeze-frame opportunities
and still not enough

I didn't even stop to think about
the seconds lost to my mother

I wonder how much of the day
my grandparents sit, silently, reverently
terrified
as they mark the seconds
each stroke the shuddering stiffness
of another lost friend
Each, for one second, the
tireless hand
moving around the face of an anachronism

Three hundred fifteen million-
how many left?
each moment (tick) I waste
at my desk reading (tick, tick)
each weekend (tick, tick, tick)
not spent
another one hundred seventy thousand gone

Three hundred fifteen million seconds
and that many more gone

Spring 2001

Poetry Posts

Since my old website has been defunct for some time, I have not had any place to archive my poetry in an easily-accessible place. Also, I have recently been inspired to write a little more frequently lately and have shared those here, so I thought perhaps that this could be my new archive, easily accessible through the label function (click here for my poetry).

It will take me awhile to migrate all of the poems over. I hope along the way some of you will discover new favorites, remember old ones, or have a good-natured (or not) chuckle at the expense of my sophomoric bluster and teenage angst.

Lines composed on the way to meet Emma

Driving through the bright verdancy

One of the few perfect days of Texas Spring

Classic pop bubbling through the static

Along piney farm-to-market countryside

The boys fight over holding my hand

Stretched behind me

Singing duet to Lauryn Hill as if I'm Macy Gray

And the afternoon couldn't be more perfect.

Spring 2011

I Am....

The soil under the feet of my forebears does not define me
The blood on the hands of my country does not silence me
I am Ella's grace note, the twinkle in the eye of the dreamer
The most ardent critic and a true believer


I speak in bass notes and stolen seconds
I am power to and for and from the people
Rupture, layering, flow
I am hip hop

----------------------------------------------

Inspired by the "I Am Hip Hop" membership questionnaire...

http://www.iamhiphop.com/

Become As A Little Child

I read a book review today
Oh boy...
And now I know what it's like to
live A Day in the Life

The review was of Bloodlands, which apparently recounts the effect of Stalin's enforced famine in the Ukraine. I don't know because I didn't finish the article. I could not get past a quote from the book...and I might spend my whole life trying and not ever be able to finish the article, let alone pick up the book. The review ("Stalin, Cannibalism, and the true nature of evil" Ron Rosenbaum, Slate.com) recounts the horrific choice of some to turn to cannibalism, even eating their children.

In Kharkov, they were human, though,
and gathered the children together,
Orphans, orphaned to guard against
a crueler loss of parental affection

But hunger does not abide walls
and when the nurses turned their backs
it crawled into the bellies of their wards
and they fell silent, fell to eating

Fell. We Fall
the pernicious nature of original sin is not
that it is passed on to our children but that
we put our children in such straits that
it is easier to choose the evil for immediate gain

Petrus! Your blood cries out to me
and all I can see when I close my eyes is
the trusting gaze of my son, Samuel,
trusting that I will let no harm come
wounded when it does

Not my will but why?
Gazing with loving trust as
he endures the ripping
and pours his whole existence into
believing that it will be ok, just take a bite

Or, I wonder if he offered
having heard Christ's saving words:
"Take, this is my body"
Petrus...with this stone I am
a crumbling edifice

Lord Have Mercy!
Lord Have Mercy!
Lord Have Mercy!
Hospody Pomiluj!
There isn't enough breath in Eternity
to repent
but it is vanity to waste my life on any
other endeavors
Hunger is a moral problem

Unwrap My Monster

Ah, Freebirds!

Freebirds was the center of my undergraduate universe. There are so many stories there that could fill so many posts, and maybe someday when I'm done dissertating and parenting I'll get around to writing those.

I wanted to put one particular story down for posterity now, though, mostly because I have an uncredited piece in what turns out to be a growing meme: "Unwrap My Monster," and while I have claimed this in conversations for years, I've never made any permanent claims. Not that claiming to originate the phrase on my blog counts for much, but at least its here. So, here's the story.

Sometime in 2002 (I think, the memory is hazy) Alan Hixon, then the head of the Freebirds Business Office was working brand image and marketing. They brought in a marketing guru (I forget who it was, but I remember them plugging Flight of the Buffalo) who, in addition to suggesting a focus on the burrito as Freebirds signature item (which eventually led to the demise of preparing tacos and quesadillas on the grill-grr!), suggested a two-tiered marketing program. One tier would be store-specific and each store got a budget to spend as we saw fit. James Crane headed up the Rock Prairie initiative which was a one-off music festival in the Kroger parking lot (I was out of town on the day of--I think for a funeral--and really regretted not being there). The second tier was to be a company-wide initiative.

I forget whether or not the idea of a customer loyalty program had been adopted before our big meeting, but that was the strategy that was adopted for the whole company. All of the GMs and Assistants were called to a meeting at the corporate office and were asked to bring ideas to workshop. Crane and I did some research on innuendo-based marketing (e.g. In-and-Out Burger, "Make 7 - Up yours") and brought a t-shirt concept to the meeting with a stylized burrito bearing the slogan "Eat Me!" In the course of our presentation, someone piggybacked and shouted out "Eat My Monster!" (maybe Jenny O.?) and then I responded with the slogan that is now famous, "Unwrap My Monster."

Click here see the widespread impact of "Unwrap My Monster.

Obama's Memorial Day "Vacation" in Context

Earlier today I started noticing a the following poll (sponsored by the "Being Conservative" page on Facebook) showing up in several Facebook friends' statuses:

Do you approve of Obama's decision to skip the Memorial Day ceremony at Arlington National Cemetery to go on vacation?
1:No
2:Yes

In response to which, I posted the following:

I don't have a problem with political disagreement. I think it is healthy and essential to a working democracy (or democratic republic, as the case may be), but the deliberate spread of misinformation and the willingness of most of us to uncritically pass it along really gets under my skin and makes me cringe for the future of our nation.

This is in response to the hubbub over Obama's Memorial Day trip to Chicago.

Well, in recent memory, Reagan skipped the ceremony in 1983, Bush41 skipped it in 1992, and Bush43 skipped in 2007. Do those matter, or is this just a problem because Obama is a Democrat (or something else)?

Unfortunately, "shoot first, fact-check later" has become the modus operandi of the Washington establishment. I think we can thank Karl Rove and 24-hour news channels; Rove's particular genius was to establish a nasty, dual-edged politics of deception during the Bush43 administration and the news establishment is constantly looking for anything to fill time, the more salacious the better. The Rove political game goes something like this:

1. Offense: Throw the nastiest, baseless accusations you can. The news media will run with the speculation, and your opponent will waste valuable time and resources denying and disproving whatever is untrue. By the time they manage to vindicate themselves, the viewing public is tired of the conversation and no longer cares. The only thing they will remember is the scandal.

2. Defense: Deflect, Distance, Dismiss. When the mud gets hurled at you, downplay the importance of the news. If possible, create something bigger to catch the news media's (and viewing public's) attention. Look for any and all ways to place blame outside of your immediate locus of control. When the public has tired of the scandal, act as though it is old news and not worthy of anyone's time.

We as information consumers bear a great deal of blame in this game, as we are not willing (or able?) to critically evaluate what is being fed to us. So, when I was challenged by my uncle about whether or not Clinton had made the date every year or what Bush and Reagan were doing when they did not make it, I had to admit to myself that I, too, had simply passed along information (thanks to Politics Daily). I now present, for your review, criticism, and discussion, the location of the president on each Memorial Day going back through Nixon (and who stood in when he wasn't at Arlington National Cemetery) along with news sources. I will also admit that these sources may not be the most authoritative; in most cases I chose the first available source with relevant information available in free preview. (With apologies for my ugly table code).

Memorial Day Presidential Wreath Laying
Year			President	Memorial Day Location	Source(s)	At Arlington for Ceremony
2010			Obama	Abraham Lincoln National Cemetery - Elwood, IL	Source	Biden
2009			Obama	Arlington National Cemetery - Arlington, VA	Source	Obama
2008			Bush43	Arlington National Cemetery - Arlington, VA	Source	Bush43
2007			Bush43	Arlington National Cemetery - Arlington, VA	Source	Bush43
2006			Bush43	Arlington National Cemetery - Arlington, VA	Source	Bush43
2005			Bush43	Arlington National Cemetery - Arlington, VA	Source	Bush43
2004			Bush43	Arlington National Cemetery - Arlington, VA	Source	Bush43
2003			Bush43	Arlington National Cemetery - Arlington, VA	Source	Bush43
2002			Bush43	Normandy American Cemetery, France	Source Source	Wolfowitz
2001			Bush43	Arlington National Cemetery - Arlington, VA	Source	Bush43
2000			Clinton	Arlington National Cemetery - Arlington, VA	Source	Clinton
1999			Clinton	Arlington National Cemetery - Arlington, VA	Source	Clinton
1998			Clinton	Arlington National Cemetery - Arlington, VA	Source	Clinton
1997			Clinton	Arlington National Cemetery - Arlington, VA	Source	Clinton
1996			Clinton	Arlington National Cemetery - Arlington, VA	Source	Clinton
1995			Clinton	Arlington National Cemetery - Arlington, VA	Source	Clinton
1994			Clinton	Arlington National Cemetery - Arlington, VA	Source	Clinton
1993			Clinton	Arlington National Cemetery - Arlington, VA & Vietnam War Memorial	Source	Clinton
1992			Bush41	American Legion Post 149 - Kennebunkport, MN	Source	Quayle
1991			Bush41	Yale University Commencement - New Haven, CT	Source Source	Quayle
1990			Bush41	Kennebunkport, MN	Source Source	Quayle
1989			Bush41	NATO Meeting - Brussels, Belgium	Source	Quayle
1988			Reagan	Moscow?	Source	Turnage
1987			Reagan	Washington?	Source	Webb
1986			Reagan	Arlington National Cemetery - Arlington, VA	Source	Reagan
1985			Reagan	Arlington National Cemetery - Arlington, VA	Source	Reagan
1984			Reagan	Arlington National Cemetery - Arlington, VA	Source	Reagan (Wreath? Internment of unknown Vietnam casualty)
1983			Reagan	Summit of Industrialized Nations - Williamsburg, VA	Source	Thayer
1982			Reagan	Arlington National Cemetery - Arlington, VA	Source	Reagan
1981			Reagan	Santa Barbara, CA	Source	Bush41
1980			Carter	USS Nimitz Homecoming	Source	Alexander
1979			Carter	Arlington National Cemetery - Arlington, VA	Source	Carter
1978			Carter	Camp David, MD	Source Source	Brown
1977			Carter	St. Simon’s Island, GA	Source Source	Claytor
1976			Ford	Arlington National Cemetery - Arlington, VA	Source	Ford
1975			Ford	Arlington National Cemetery - Arlington, VA	Source	Ford
1974			Nixon	Key Biscane, FL	Source	Ford
1973			Nixon	Key Biscane, FL	Source Source	Schlesinger
1972			Nixon	Moscow, USSR	Source	Scott
1971			Nixon	Camp David, MD	Source	Rogers
1970			Nixon	San Clemente, CA	Source	Tower
1969			Nixon	Florida	Source	Agnew

Counting this year, 19 times out of 42, someone other than the President has laid the ceremonial wreath at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. 15 of those times, the President has been Republican. Only Clinton and Ford have been at the ceremony every year of their presidencies; Bush43 only missed once; Bush41 (as president) and Nixon never made the ceremony.

Thanks to commentor "Grey" who noticed the error I had made, listing Reagan as president on Memorial Day in 1980...that was probably why I had so much trouble finding a reference to his whereabouts that day. Also thank you to commentor"Budd" for pointing out the sloppy language I used; Bush41 did in fact attend the ceremony, just never as CIC.

Adventures Through the Looking Glass

The political landscape continues to get curioser and curioser. Living and working at Texas A&M during the first year of Obama's presidency provides plenty of opportunity to see and hear white folks find new ways to dissemble, believing all the time that the fact that we have a black president is a cosmic mistake that will soon be righted. Most days I get to leave that strange world outside my door.

I just sat through a phone call, however, which might have been a telemarketing campaign for Dick Morris' new book. The call, which was represented by the woman who placed the call as a one-question survey, consisted of a monologue by a breathy Dick Morris congratulating me on being one of the biggest conservative supporters in my area (!) and describing his book not only as the
most important work
he's ever done but also as a battle plan for a Republican recapture of congress in 2010.  

After listening to Morris rehash canards such as "death panels" a male operator got back on the line, inquired whether or not I had been able to hear the recorded message and then posed the survey question: "Do you support Obama's expansion of health care, withdrawal of troops from the middle east, and biggest expansion of government in history?"

I responded "No, but mostly because I think he's not gone far enough on healthcare, drawn down the troops fast enough, and that President Bush's presidency saw the biggest expansion of federal government in history. " The flustered pollster sputtered a thank you and hung up. My questions are 1) what misguided intern put my name on a list that was obviously intended for an uncritical sample and, 2) this seriously can't be anything else but a marketing ploy for Morris' book, right, or is this characteristic of the work he does? I wonder if I'll actually get the free signed copy promised in the recorded message?

WFIK Makes CNN Top 10 Heroes!

Help Brad win $100K and bring Wheechairs for Iraqi Kids some much-deserved attention. This prize would fund 285 new wheelchairs!

Please vote!

Universal, Single-Payer Health Care: Not Just For the Un- and Under-Insured

I sent the following account to my representatives (and selected others) today.



This letter is to describe my experience today trying to access health care while on vacation in San Antonio, TX. The reason I believe this anecdote will be of interest is that I think my experience is a microcosm of the ills plaguing health care reform and access in our country.

I am employed at Texas A&M University, and have Scott & White health coverage through my employer. While vacationing with my family in San Antonio, I began to have pain in my eye, and after it grew worse after two days, I decided to see a doctor. I studied Scott & White’s website and then contacted the TAMU Employee Services office as well as Scott & White’s help line and determined that since there were not any network providers in San Antonio, I could be seen at an Emergency Room for $150 or an Urgent Care facility for $40. Armed with this information, I researched Urgent Care facilities in downtown San Antonio. Finally I discovered that Alamo City Medical Group’s 24-Hour Urgent Care facility was just blocks from my hotel. This was especially fortuitous since this was the only Urgent Care facility listed in the downtown area.

I walked to the Riverwalk Urgent Care center, checked in, completed paperwork and had my medical history taken by the nurse before the receptionist informed me that Scott & White wouldn’t pay any benefits for my visit (this despite my working for one of the largest employers in the state of Texas, and Alamo City Medical Group’s brochure claim that “we accept all Major Network Insurances”) and suggested I call Scott & White to locate a clinic that would be covered.

I called Scott & White for the second time, and spoke with another friendly but unhelpful associate, who suggested that I call information to find an Urgent Care facility since Scott & White will accept Urgent Care billing from any clinic. I relayed this information to the Alamo City Medical Group Urgent Care receptionist, who then let me know that they have two different tax IDs, one of which is Urgent Care, the other is Family Practice, and that they are only contracted with certain providers to bill as Urgent Care. Ultimately, I discovered that my options were to pay Alamo City Medical Group’s $140 (minimum) office visit charge or find an ER and pay my $150 copay. I decided to just wait until I get home next week to see a doctor instead.

While this might not be the best decision medically, it is the only one that I felt comfortable making considering my family finances and how I had been treated as a health care consumer. What I discovered was that, even though I have insurance, and even though I did the due diligence necessary to find an appropriate doctor while out of my regular coverage area, the most attractive option offered to me is to visit an Emergency Room.

The national health care debate has highlighted the overuse of Emergency Room medicine for reasons other than medical emergencies. My experience today has underscored that one reason for this is the general availability of the Emergency Room and the relative stability of this definition across insurance providers. My experience today would have been far different if there was some sort of regulation of the term “Urgent Care,” which seems to be loosely used by Alamo City Medical Group when it is in fact a technical term in the medical industry. I would have experienced no issue at all if we instead had a national, single-payer health provider.

I have to admit that in the grand scheme of things, my little malady pales in comparison to the chronic pain and illness that millions in our country suffer every day. These uninsured and underinsured are often the poster children for universal health care, but I hope that my experience helps illuminate the fact that fully-insured Americans stand to benefit from a health care system that is seamless and transparent, too. To that end, I strongly encourage you to fight for a universal, single-payer plan such as the Conyers-Kucinich plan, HR 676. Why an expensive, expansive, and ultimately handicapped plan like HR 3200 is even being considered is beyond me, and suggests that insurance lobbies have more clout than voters. Please consult this beautiful comparison of HR 676 and HR 3200 and fight for health coverage that will benefit all of us.

Respectfully,



Jonathan Kotinek

The Meaning of Names

I love that my name combines the two best friends in the Bible. I've grown up knowing this, and that my name meant something to the effect of "a Friend from God."

With the new addition to our family (and mulling new boy names since we've used both of our pre-selected boy names!), I wanted to see how well our names fit us.

I surfed over to www.behindthename.com/ and found out what each of our names mean. The results are startlingly accurate, I thought:

Jonathan (the LORD has given) David (Beloved) - Beloved given by God

Sarah (lady or princess) Ashley (ash tree clearing) - Princess of the Meadow

Anthony (similar to Greek “anthos” - flower) Noah (rest, comfort) - The Flower of our Comfort

Samuel (God has heard) Isaac (he laughs) - The Lord has heard my Joy

As alluded earlier, we had pre-selected two boy names and two girl names (and decided the order in which these were to be conferred). The two girl names are:

Ashley (ash tree clearing) Marie (love) - Love in the Open

Emma (whole or universal) Elizabeth (my God is abundance) - My abundance is from God

The closest we've come to picking another boy name is below. Ashley liked the name Ashton, and I have promised to consider Robert if we ever have another boy:


Robert (bright fame) Ashton (ash tree town)- Well-known in the Woods

 Update 10/6/11: Instead of Robert Ashton, Ashley has decided she likes Jacob Fionn instead (and no, we don't have immediate need for another name):

Jacob (supplanter) Fionn (fair) - Overtaken by Beauty