Month: November 2018

The Poem of the Day Project

Dennis in his West Village, NYC apartment, 1974 (photo by Lawrence)

Some of our readers know of my brother Dennis from previous post mentions, including the August 2018 publication of his latest book of poetry, The Taste of Flesh.  Earlier this month he embarked on his latest project, challenging himself to write a poem each day (into the indefinite future?). The poems were made available by email subscription, but I have now created a page to assemble these pieces under one convenient link. (Click on the POTD link under “Family and Friends” in the left column of this page for access.)

For those wondering, Dennis’ history has included receiving an English degree from Iowa State University, working as an investigative newspaper reporter, editing and publishing the literary journal Crania, founding the publishing entity Crania Press, winning the 1992 Flannery O’Conner national Short Fiction award with his book The Consequences of Desire, teaching as a UCLA creative writing instructor, and publishing in many literary journals and media. He also owned and operated a general contracting construction business in Los Angeles, restored classic automobiles in his backyard garage after retirement, and continues to work as a community activist in Venice, CA.  And Dennis tells me that he has two book projects (fiction and non-fiction) in the works as well as a new website under development.

All POTD content © Dennis Hathaway

rDay Thirteen-Hundred-Forty-Five

Another foggy, rainy morning.

Model A

This morning, while I was stopped to refuel, a car pulled into the adjacent set of pumps.  It was a vehicle that I had seen several times around town: a 1929 Ford Model A roadster.  For about ten minutes the owner and I were able to exchange conversation until incoming customers obliged us to depart.  In that time, some degree of documentation was undertaken (see below).  Our talk solely concerned early Ford Model A and Model T matters (I learned to drive with a 1931 Model A, btw), no politics were discussed, not even the weather (except for noting that it was “perfect” in the owner’s view for such driving).

I learned that this car is his daily driver, used to prowl local streets and byways for his retirement amusement, excepting snow or hard rain as the car is not fitted with a top.  The engine ran beautifully, in my estimation.  I was shown the original luggage rack on the passenger side running board, the gas gauge that provides a direct visual view of the tank (positioned in front of the windshield and dashboard), the rumble seat, the functional brake light, and other features.  We did not have time to look beneath the hood due to the crush of customers.   At one point, the owner also pulled out his smartphone and showed me an image of his other roadster, a show-worthy full restoration.

[CODA:  Later today as I was walking down second avenue, busy with a stream of commuter traffic, in the rain and in the dark, I heard a chug-chug behind me and turned to see the same Model A Ford, topless in the light rain and streaming its tiny taillights, in the middle of the traffic flow, whipping along with everyone else at around 40 mph.  But I failed to grab focus fast enough in the darkness to pan and capture an image, a bitter disappointment.]

[rDay Thirteen-Hundred-Forty-Four]