A Thought Train to Memory Lane - that yellow bastard

recent entries:
friends | friends2:
archive:
my friendfeed:
about me:



tags
about me advice art atlanta being yellow books cars climbing comics dad fic food games gaming geekism go gators hell is... holy crap home insomnia language meme money movies music odd poetry poker politics quotes singletude spam tech this sucks travel tv why i rule why i suck work

more bastard
bronze vip archives
notes of a code poet
friendster
furious ming
del.icio.us
dude check this out
pandora
that bastard multiples

that bastard suggests
nandot
cap'n ken
coffee achiever
el guapo
bad news hughes

the stack
secret history:

the queue
battlestar galactica::

March 24th, 2003


Previous Entry Share Next Entry
2003.0324.1709::A Thought Train to Memory Lane
Not a few minutes ago, I was thinking about the phrase "Keeping up with the Joneses," when I happened upon a memory lost somewhere between college and grad school.

In high school, I used to go by James Hsiao Jones. Quite an unusual moniker for a Chinese-American teenager, huh?

See, in my junior year, the Miami Herald's Sunday Magazine, Tropic, held a Bad Poetry Contest. All of my fellow students in our various English classes got together and started brainstorming bad verse.

They would come up with such gems as:

"Oedipus"
Mommy! Mommy!

and
Whish.
Wash.
Whish.
Wash.

The clothes are done.


I took a couple of sheets of notebook paper and threw together a good ten to fifteen poems, short in length (you know the Reader's Digest motto: "Brevity is Wit"), but long in worth. I took my inspiration from the quiet moments of my life--my classes, my peers, my family. Sadly, I can only remember one of them now. I wrote my name at the top-right-hand corner of the pages the way I signed all my assignments: "Hsiao, James." Someone else would compile them into a single shipment of entries to the Herald.

Weeks later, Tropic would present their choices for the best worst poetry submitted. I believe the winner was
Lather.
Rinse.
Repeat.

(With special props to the other submitter who suggested, "Lather / Rinse / Repeat if necessary"). I would get an Abominable Mention for my work "Life (A Student's View)"--Tropic renamed this piece from my original title, "Calculus":
I'm dying.
I'm dying.
I'm dead.

In their editorial fervor, however, someone apparently couldn't read my generally-readable handwriting and attributed the poem to "Hsaio Jones."

...

...

Uh-Huh. The name would stick.


Sometime in my senior year, my creative writing teacher would mark an assignment of mine.

"More bad poetry"
Current Mood: [mood icon] nostalgic

Leave a comment )

Go to Top:
LiveJournal.com