An Eye for Film
My mother shot my birthday movie
Boy, it came out great!
She never took her eye away from that old Super 8
The lens was focused flawlessly,
Each color bold and bright.
Her steady hand stayed steadfast…
…yet, still…
…something wasn’t right…
I’d been taking weeks of diving lessons, hours each afternoon
Perfecting flips and turns and praying
Parents’ Day would get here soon, and finally
Here it was! And coinciding with my day of birth!
O perfect Parents’ Day!
Today, I’ll surely dive for all I’m worth.
Mom was polishing her lenses,
Mom was loading yards of film
One foot balanced on a railing,
Camera hand perfectly still
My name was called amidst the chatter;
Proudly marching toward her, I then,
Pausing as I climbed the ladder, winked to the camcorder
I, atop the highest high dive,
Nimbly tiptoed to the end
And with a gentle bounce,
I launched into the air, arms spread,
and then:
I spun three times counterclockwise,
Four the ordinary way,
Said the Lord’s Prayer twice in Spanish,
Nine salutes,
Twelve tour jettes
Performed a card trick (which I butchered)
Flapped my arms and flailed my legs
I danced three jigs,
I peeled two apples,
Seven pears,
Three hard-boiled eggs
I proofread two risque short stories,
Cartwheeled three times after each
Sketched seventeen concentric circles with no compass,
Wolfed a quiche
Assembled seven model planes,
Auctioned them off and had a buyer
Tied eight different kinds of knots,
And then I set two ants on fire.
I built a robot,
named her Rosie,
learned to fight,
and then I fought her,
And then tightening up my trunks,
I clenched my teeth,
and hit the water.
And my mother got it all
I mean, it really came out great.
She never took her eye away from that old Super 8.
O such artistic prowess, Mother, what an eye for film!
Brilliant were the colors, Mother’s hand was ever still;
She never stumbled, never staggered,
Though there’s one flaw, we’ve agreed.
See, Mother held the camera backward–
She’d an eye for film indeed.
I love it! It reminds me of the Shel Silverstein poems I loved as a kid (and that my 3 year old is starting to love herself.) Your mom — I’m sure — has yet to live that one down!
Whether you make changes to the site or keep everything the same, I’ll keep coming back. I love to hear a good story!
Comment by Bethany — July 25, 2006 @ 11:47 am
Steven - Thank you for this early morning giggle!! (Your mother sounds like my sister!)
And YAY for more stories…short or long - matters not…
~laura
Comment by laura — July 25, 2006 @ 12:18 pm
I’ve been waiting…
Great story!
Comment by Vikki — July 25, 2006 @ 2:32 pm
I agree with Bethany, it had a very carefree, silly Shel Silvertein feel to it. That was wonderful!
Comment by mom on a wire — July 25, 2006 @ 3:48 pm
He blogs!
How are you not doing this professionally yet, eSteven?
Comment by Jenn — July 25, 2006 @ 4:22 pm
See and here I thought I was going to be the only one who thought you had read a lot of Shel Silverstein when you were a kid. I am glad to see a new entry, they always make me smile.
Comment by SwtMagic1 — July 25, 2006 @ 6:56 pm
Good work! Thanks for gratifying the clamoring masses with yet another amusing post. I’m just impressed that you know what a tour jete is…
Comment by alexis — July 26, 2006 @ 4:08 pm
too….short….need….more….soon….
Seriously, loved the poem, love leaving remarks; smart or otherwise and can’t wait til you have a whole book full of entries! You are truly one of the best ‘reads’ out here and I always feel like I’m in Seattle working somewhere downtown amidst the crowds and characters! Thank you.
Comment by Kim — July 26, 2006 @ 7:45 pm
I’ll try very hard not to be witty. It may be difficult.
New here. Very funny.
Comment by The Lazy Organizer — July 27, 2006 @ 3:23 pm
Risque short stories when you were 12? Steven!
I’m so glad you posted again.
Comment by carrien — July 27, 2006 @ 6:04 pm
Esteven!! Bravo. That was great! God it’s good to see you posting again. Man, I’ve been reading and re-reading your old posts. You really should hammer the Spanish Store anedotes out into a novella or something. Keep up the good work.
Comment by joshua hewlett — July 28, 2006 @ 6:08 pm
Very clever. I thought she had forgotten to take the lens cap off. That is what I tend to do.
Comment by Aunt Murry — July 28, 2006 @ 9:49 pm
This is brilliant.
Comment by mamatulip — July 30, 2006 @ 12:30 pm
But at least she captured the pride in her eye at the skill of her son…?
Comment by Margaret — August 2, 2006 @ 12:36 am
Wow…
You can dive like that and you’re still sitting around only writing about it?
Great poem!
Comment by melnel — August 8, 2006 @ 5:21 pm
just like me
Comment by доставка пиццы — November 28, 2008 @ 3:01 pm