Millings's Stories and Poetry

 I've been feeling creaky.  My legs, my hips.  Lindsey asked me how I was feeling. I said, "I feel old."  "Dick," she said, "You are old." 

 The POTUS is named Don Trump We all know he likes a good hump. His morals and smarts  Are much worse than his *****. It's time he's returned to the dump. 

 The A students go into law, science, and medicine.  The B students go into business. The C students go into the bureaucracy. And what do the D students do? They run for congress and some of them make it.  And how about the F students?  Some get nominated for president and get elected.

 What do you call a potato that watches sports?  What do you call a potato on a spit?  What do you call a potato disseminating the news? What do you call a potato who helps people achieve their goals?  What do you call a potato who sits quietly thinking deep thoughts or none at all?  What do you call a potato causing trouble?  What do you call a potato who seizes complete political control over a country?  Spectator.  Rotator. Commentator. Facilitator. Meditator. Agitator. Dictator. (though Lucy suggested Trump...)

 To Dick Miller on his 90th birthday Happy Birthday, Dick! Dick was one of the first people I met at Wesleyan. I think he was on the recruiting team that interviewed me at the American Economics Association meetings when I was on the job market. I do remember that the dinner I had on my fly-out visit to Wesleyan was at Dick and Joan’s house. I had been on many fly-outs and attended many recruiting dinners during the course of my job search, but that visit to Dick and Joan’s was the first—and only—dinner that actually took place in someone’s home. What a welcoming home it was! After I arrived at Wesleyan, Dick and Joan had me over to dinner onmultiple occasions. I am relatively certain that they thought, as a single man who had just arrived from Washington, that I needed some looking after—well, at least Joan did (she was right, of course). She always asked how my social life was going, and was always ready with encouraging words when the news was not good. Joan, knowing that I keep...

Carol Buzby:   You've conquered the aging "disease" that brings lesser men to their knees.  You're a vigorous man and you've proved you still can blow out the candles with one sneeze.  On this day we party each year! And we all come to send you good cheer! We come via ZOOM and sing out-of-tune And then we will all disappear! Gramps, I'm sure it will give you a lift that we've shown such admirable thrift in choosing a way to remember your day with this heartwarming message, no gift! Unknown author:  Don't you hate it when all your joints ache?  All those candles are crushing your cake?  We all think you're great,  You should still celebrate And party on for Pete's sake! Unknown Author:  Dick Miller -- a man of few words: He thought garrulousness for the birds.  But the ones that he spoke were quite pointed. No joke! If just two words would do, then no thirds.  Unknown author:  For your birthday I made you a cake,  which too...