Robby at 3 Months

Robby Kleppel

This boy smiles at you and "talks" to you. It is so beautiful; he is so beautiful!

Poem for Linda and the Grand Babies

Still Life, With Grand Babies

--for Linda

You on the blue recliner,

Twelve-week old Robby over your right shoulder,

Three-year-old Colin snuggling you on the left,

Close to your heart

Close to your heart!

Bob / March 28, 2014

Happy St. Patrick's Day 2014!

Lá Fhéile Pádraig Sona Daoibh!

Dot (Breakers Cafeteria cashier) all dressed up!

Robby's First St. Patrick's Day

The First Day of Spring in Cleveland . . .

Is March 17^th, come rain, sleet, or snow

(or more likely, all of the above,

all at the same time).

You can be fooled by the bitter wind whipping

Across the frozen lake

Down the urban canyons of Downtown Cleveland

The tornadic swirl of dust, cigarette butts, road salt

At the corner of East 9^th and Superior . . .

But a block south, on Euclid Avenue, the road stripes are painted Kelly green,

The color of spring, hope, shamrocks.

Tens of thousands of men, women, children

Are celebrating the great Saint’s day.

Marching bands by the dozens,

the usual suspects: St. Ed’s, St. Ignatius, Holy Name,

and some surprises: the exuberant marching of Glenville High School

or Shaw High School, not a pale Irish face to be seen,

swinging their souzaphones like battle axes, look out!

These must be the famous “Black Irish,” and they’re welcomed

With cheers and hoots and clapping.

Pipe and drum corps follow and who would know

In Greater Cleveland that every Irish man, woman, and child

Played the pipes or fifes or drums.

The horses, mounted police, Lake Farm Park horse posse,

Any excuse to ride a horse down Euclid Avenue—

Step carefully over the droppings!

Every Emergency Squad, police car, fire truck, ambulance

In Greater Cleveland, sirens blaring, parade down the street,

Followed by the politicians: Tim McCormick, Jimmy Dimora (Irish?),

The county auditor, treasurer, city councilmen, the mayor,

Politicians white and black.

This would be the time to rob a bank in Cleveland, we joke,

But not the time to get sick or into an accident

Because all the safety forces are right here

On this little stretch of avenue.

Here come the dogs, the glorious Irish wolf hounds,

Majestic, huge, tallest dog on earth

With distant cousins the Irish setters, prancing behind,

Friendly, stunning red-haired beauties,

 not-too-bright, deeply inbred

(sounds like my Irish family!)

Enough drunken kids are around to remind us that this is our broken city,

We tiptoe over broken bottles, vomit, and trash,

Ignore it, look beyond, to the floats and fun.

Lolly-the-Trolly transporting all the oldtimers

From the Eastside Irish American Club.

Followed by marchers with no excuse, no costume,

Except they want to march in their own parade.

At this point my toes are numb, my back aches,

I know it’s time to head for the Fitzpatrick Party at the Marriott,

See all the cousins, their children, and friends.

Have a laugh with them, drink a beer,

Toast our parents, aunts, uncles who have passed,

Shed a tear and a laugh,

Tell stories about Uncle Dick and Don, Jake Reardon,

Uncle Skip and his junk cars driving to work in Collinwood without brakes,

(How we grew up so poor in cash and rich in family!)

Wish blessings until the next funeral or wedding or First Communion

Or the Next St. Patty’s Day Parade.

This poem rambles, is discursive and long as the St. Patty’s Parade,

And who gives a damn because it’s

The first day of  Spring in Cleveland—

Slainte! [March 17, 2004]

                      

A Reason to Fight for the Future of Our World

Robby Kleppel on March 12, 2014

I have many reasons to fight for the future of our planet. Above is one of them!

Robby Preparing for St. Patty's Day!

Robby--My Irish-Italian-German-Polish-Czech Grandson

The blanket is a gift from my sister, Mary Ellen. Made by a friend of hers. This is Robby's first St. Patrick's Day.

Two Beautiful Boys

Me and the Boys

Robby Smiling. He's 8 weeks old.

Colin at Playground World

Robby Taking a Bath

Robby being bathed--and eating his fist! Note his beautiful eyes.

Me and One of My Loves on Valentine's Day

Bob with Robby, Valentine's Day 2014

"Who's the Guy with the grey beard?" asks Robby.

Colin (age 3) "reads" to Robby (6 weeks)

February 11, 2014. Mentor, Ohio.

Colin "reading" to Robby. Colin seems to be able to read some books (I guess the words are memorized). Robby seems pretty interested!

Robby's First Smile

Robby Kleppel

The boy has started smiling! He's about 6 weeks old.

Perfect Joy!

Bob, with 5-week old Robby.

Five-week-old Robby

Sleeping on my chest--

Don’t have words to express

How happy

and peaceful

I am.

Bob Coughlin/Feb. 9. 2014

Beautiful Baby Robby, 1-month-old Grandson

Robert Edward Nicholas Kleppel, January 31, 2014

Robby has my brown eyes and my male-pattern baldness (in his case only temporary). He also has my first name!