Thursday, March 22, 2007



Half a court, half a court,
Backwards and forwards,
Strode the warriors
Of the hoop hardboards.

To win for their campus,
O how will it end?
A fight to the finish,
With an army of ten.

A war not of honor,
Or scholastic pursuit,
But how well they dribble,
And how well they shoot.

They shoot not from cannon,
No muskets at all,
Their weapons are harmless,
Just soft rubber balls.

Supporters to the left of them,
Opponents to their right,
Many paid a monthly wage,
To see this mighty fight.

Was there a fan dismay'd?
Not that the ratings knew.
Their's is not to reason why
Their's is but to cheer and cry.

When final trumpet makes its sound,
And peace refills the Dome,
The world will not a bit be changed,
When everyone goes home.

©2007, Dalton, Lord Hammond

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

Bringing Up Father

With thanks to Viagra
I am strong as Niagra.
But now so imbued
I don't get in the mood.

©2007, Dalton Hammond

Wednesday, March 14, 2007

Theatre Review: "Harvey"

Tonight I went to The Fair Barn to see a community theatre production of "Harvey", which is supposed to be about an invisible rabbit. Being an avid fan of community theatre -- the roar of the greasepaint and all that -- and never having seen an invisible rabbit before, I thought I'd check it out.

The Fair Barn is a turn-of-the-century horse barn which was rebuilt after an unfortunate tornado some years ago and converted to a city-operated exhibition hall, and since I have a large investment in an upcoming concert or two in the area I was curious how this small-town venue would be laid out for theatre. Was I surprised! Yes, I was.

The theatre area was boxed off by eight-foot exhibition curtains and you had to enter through a small opening in the curtains like those special shows at the county fair where the stage show out front was free but you had to pay a quarter to go back and see the good parts, except tonight they had folding seats lined up on risers that completely surrounded the stage, which was on the floor. Theatre-in-the-round as it were. I guessed it would seat about 250 patrons.

I had deliberately chosen Wednesday's performance which I figured would be a slow night and since I was ten minutes early I was the only person in the audience, so it was easy to find my seat up on the eighth row, seat 36. Thirty-eight patrons later the lights dimmed and the show started. Or at least I believe it did because a couple of actresses walked onto the stage from behind a secret curtain and started talking to themselves but since they were facing the four people in the audience on the other side of the stage I couldn't hear what they were saying. Every now and then they would move around and face somewhere else that wasn't in my direction either but at least the folks in those sections got to hear a little bit. I was starting to wish I'd brought my hearing aid.

Finally the lead actor came on stage and since he projected well I could actually hear most of what he was saying -- to the invisible rabbit that even the play-actresses couldn't see. Try as I might I couldn't hear what the invisible rabbit was saying and finally figured he wasn't facing in anybody's direction. The $15 I paid for tonight's ticket was beginning to make the $25 I had been praying to get for The Embers Christmas Show look way too cheap. Sensing that the end of Scene One was drawing near I began to plan my exit.

Just before the lights dimmed signalling the end of Scene One I completed a recount of the house: 39 persons plus the doorman and ticket lady and with that reappraisal of the Pinehurst entertainment market I bolted for the exit curtain, wondering if I had the nerve to quaff a hemlock cocktail after I got home.

-- Dalton Hammond

Sunday, March 11, 2007

March Madness

March Madness is upon us
I do not overrate
The mindless magic in the words
That simply shout, "Go State"!

The zombies on the sofa
Ignore their favorite meals.
With glassy eyes they sit and stare
And gamely chant "Go Heels".

Bin Ladin is still hiding
But no one seems to care,
No terrorists dare stalk their world
While they are in their chair.

When Pearly Gates do call me home
Saint Pete will ask of me
"From whence call ye your home, my son?"
I'll say, "The A.C.C."

©2007, Dalton Hammond