Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

at the kitchen table
we would discuss family business
and it would go no farther than that
how we felt, our worries and concerns
our opinions, what we valued
what we despised, we didn't
hang it on the line
we kept it in the house
and cleaned it ourselves
without posture or pretense
without self-serving agenda
or demeaning exhibitionism
we didn't fight on the back porch
or scream across the fence
no spectacle for the neighbors
no gladiatorial display
we valued our honor, our reputation
and we kept it clean, we
comported ourselves, even
when it hurt to do so,
that is the price of dignity
that is what it means to be a man

a real man shouldn't need to do a lot of posturing, shouldn't need
to growl and bark, wave his fist and threaten....I've seen that act way too much and I'm not impressed by all the showy machismo....

I can't say for sure if your poem is autobiographical, but I'm guessing it is, and I'd say without reservation your parents did a bang up job
imparting some substantive wisdom.......great life skills to believe in...

nice job, dino....

thank you, steve. having had the pleasure of posting with you for a couple of years and witnessing your behavior both on line and in person, i think that you are a model of civility and a stand up guy - it's been a pleasure.

I learned my table manners from the three stooges.

"Perhaps the only true dignity of man is his capacity to despise himself." George Santayana

my great grandmother was a stern German woman
for family gatherings she would come from the assisted living place
to eat dinner with her clan. She was always seated at the head of the table.

She suspected that her heirs were hovering just waiting for her to die
so they could spend her money. She was not entirely wrong.

One Thanksgiving we sat down to eat and halfway through the meal, Great Grandma gagged. She was eating my aunt's fruit salad. It turned out that there was a tack in her little bowl. She had bitten down on it.

We determined that the tack was in the bowl which had been stored on the top shelf in the pantry.

Of course the old lady thought there was an assassin at the table. I think she had her will changed several times after that.

when people throw food at the table, i duck, then sometimes get pissed off and pour a glass of wine over their head before kicking them out of my house

whoops! I shouldn't have said that in public. I'm airing my dirty laundry. My bad.

Dig nity gritty.
shoutitfromdarooftops!
letitallhangoutman!

I'm glad you outgrew your family Constantine.
really enjoyed this one
H

thanks all.