Robocalls and Poetry

A here-and-there, this-and-that, good-and-not-so-good day.
Stripped the bed, re-made, and did a load of wash, finishing before 9:15. Called Nancy and found that she's less tired, but has muscle spasms that are bothering her a lot, plus her bad knee is no better. We decided to skip Downtown Abbey today and go next week. We did have a long and enjoyable talk.
At Sprouts, Wal-Mart, and Von's, I replenished my supply of shrimp and a few other things. I found out at Starbucks that the gift card somebody gave me two and a half years ago for my eightieth still has twenty-five dollars on it. That's because I never used it, as I never seem to have any reason to go to Starbucks. Must remember to get something there.
I packed up the stamps I had acquired from Sheri and Ken for my little grandson in Tokyo and walked to the P.O. to mail them. What!? They'd be more than fourteen bucks because they were in a "package"--a small manila envelope, but it was only three ounces. I'm going to repack them and maybe send them in three shipments in standard envelopes.
I'm on a crusade to fight back against robocalls, but now I quit for this reason: I got a call from an outfit called Health Enrollment Center. I asked the recorded voice--"Donna"--where they were located and was passed over to a man who sounded like a sixth-grade dropout fresh out of San Quentin. He asked me questions, such as my age ("fifty-seven") and after I tired of talking to him, I told him to go (something) himself and hung up. Incredibly, he called me back and called me a "miserable little bitch." I immediately went to the police station for advice (I knew they didn't handle it) and was directed to the Federal Trade Commission. Filed a complaint, which will probably do no good at all. Just for my info, the reference number is 111-928-535.
Unbelievably, as I was getting out of the car at the police station, I got a call from a man with an accent selling some kind of "car protection." I told him to drop dead and he responded with curses, also. I'm wondering if those two lousy outfits use the same people on the phone.
Went to the Open Mic Poetry group last night. It started at 7:30 and lasted until after 9:00.  There were probably thirty people there and after some remarks and pushing of a book written by some of them, people who had signed up to do so recited their supposed-to-be-short poems.  With one exception, every single one of them read what they had written and with the same one exception, all were free-form, i.e., not rhymed.  I'm with Robert Frost on this; he said, "Writing free verse is like playing tennis with the net down." Seems to me free form is often boring and self-indulgent; it sure seemed so last night.
That exception I mentioned? Yours truly. I recited from memory my poem "Cabin Fever," which went over very big, actually, I'm not sure whether that's because I was new--everyone else seemed to know each other--or  because you could actually follow the story. In truth, it's a damn good poem, of which I'm proud.
Anyway, it lasted until well after 9:00 and I didn't get home until ten. I greatly dislike driving at night and was nervous going home. I know I could take a bus there and the Access van home if I wanted to continue with this group, but I don't. For one thing, there was a surprising amount of political talk--I don't mean poetry, but once a number of people got to the podium, they saw fit to deplore the present situation and malign Trump.
I wasn't surprised to realize this is the kind of tiresome ultra-neo-lib group who think all will be well once the democrats get back in.  The idea that the problems are systemic (capitalism, endless war) seems not to have occurred to them. I'm probably drawing too fine a line here, but most of their "poetry" seemed boring and self-indulgent.
I'm glad I went because I satisfied my curiosity about the group and know for sure it's not for me.