It always happens this way. You think that you have found the right one, your ideal companion, and it will be like this forever. Then they start changing. A spoke breaks, then another. A bent wheel, a broken pedal, and then you can't believe what you actually find your self thinking: I have to get another bike.
Al has been so good to me, an amazing teacher. But I think I have outgrown him, literally. Too many repairs, a few that are pretty much unfixable without a blowtorch and some fervant prayer. So I took the plunge, as certain English majors would say, and picked up a new mountain bike. I won't talk about price, as I am not materialistic or an accountant. But rest assured that if I bought it, then the bike had to be a good value, one of those 4 am waiting online at Sports Authority deals. Yes Linda and I are still trying to recoup that lost slumber. But what of Al, my life coach, what role will he play, and who will now be my teacher? Looking at my new shiny mountain bike with disc brakes and full suspension, I sense that I will have to teach it, not the reverse. And what will Al think as I wheel my young, strong bike past him on weekends, as he sits in the garage, collecting dust, his tires losing air. I have a feeling that his teaching days are not over. He will surprise me again, I am sure.
But what of biking now, when it is 10 degrees and we await the blizzard of 2009? At least I have until spring to make the necessary adjustments on my new bike (disk brakes, front handlebars), and maybe do some doctoring to Al, that old Mongoose, who still carries a grudge against me for waiting this long to fix his spoke and bent rim. To think that I have not biked in any real sense of the word since October 4, wow? I have proven that humans can live this miserable existence we call life, without partaking in the very things that make it barely tolerable. Life from inside the petrie dish gets challenging in the winter.
This post is so old that it is decomposing and I must finish it. But the lexicon calls:
My Word!: Yes this feature has become a staple of my obscure, shameful blog, and the world has expressed gratitude that it does, in fact, exist. Just yesterday a band of unruly teenagers chased me down the street, throwing snowballs at my head, screaming "you dork, you deserve to die". Ah, the boundless energy of young wordsmiths, inspired by an older mentor such as myself. How touching that they knew my nome de plume ("Dork"), and as I crawled up my stoop in front of my house, slamming the door behind me, I wiped my bloody brow, thanking the good lord that I would live to write another day. But to my main literary topic, the singular beauty of plurality.
Restrooms: When Linda and I visited the girls this past weekend we first stopped across the street to visit the proverbial coffee shop. And boy is this one ever a prototype for a coffee shop. Some look like diners, others like a cafe or restaurant, but not this one. Coffee Shop, just as the neon letters above the door say. After finalizing my transaction I bounded down the stairs to use the facility. Although the door in the dimly lit hall was rather small, the sign said "Restrooms". What flashed through my mind made me brace myself. Would this door lead to a lobby where I would then see signs for "MEN" and WOMEN"? Or would it open to an underground atrium with a high ceiling and tropical foliage? Would there be choirs singng carols (I mean it is the Christmas season)? Opening the door brought me back to reality, as the space inside the door was about half the size of a proper closet. Boy does it burn me when people misuse an "s", setting perceptive, deranged people such as myself up for disappointment. I stormed upstairs and demanded to see the manager of the establishment. After describing my dismay in great detail, he blinked his eyes a few times and asked in a strong accent, "Decaf, or regular"? Come to think of it, just give me an everything with a shmear. With a feeling of vindication, I left the coffee shop, knowing that I had done my best to uphold the honor of the English language.
Have I filled my quota yet? Peace all, stay warm and Keep the Faith. Heading to Cedar Creek for some sledding.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Sunday, October 11, 2009
This Desert Life: I'll Have the Scorpion Bisque Please
Such a Life....yes it is, and we took our lives to Arizona last week. It was beautiful! Hot and sunny during the day, cool in the morning and at night. Awesome skies and bright stars, clean and dry. Different climate, different creatures (lizards, grasshoppers, crickets, coyotes), different life, a real change. Much like water and air and fire, change can promote or inhibit life. Change may kill you, yes, but without change and challenge and diversity, is life worth living? As every event in my life does, our trip to AZ set my brain off on paths hopefully never taken by a human that is not incarcerated. Read on, reader, at your peril.
Once again I am struck by the premise that the benefit of working out is oh so much more than just shedding pounds and lowering blood pressure and improving times. 50 years of angst, self doubt and confusion are washed away by 25 minutes of a "cross country" program on the eliptical. Ah, the joy of sweat! What creative and spiritual insights one achieves when pushing one's own physical envelope. While on the treadmill and eliptical machine in AZ with many senior citizens (were they also listening to the Ramones on their mp3 players?), these surprising revelations occurred:
The Trancendance of Music: As I "elipt" on the eliptical machine, each new song dealt up by my i-pod shuffle allows me to traverse years, cultural barriers and preconceptions.
"The punk meets the godfather" from Quadrophenia by the Who transports me back to 1973. I am 14 years old and at the lake at night with friends, not surrounded by senior citizens at the health club, most 20 years my senior."Across the Lines" by Tracy Chapman describes the vast differences between white and black, and the violent ways that we cope with those differences. I wonder when listening to the lyrics if we are now truly in "post racial America" given the fact that Obama has been elected president. I think not. "Ghost Dance" by Robbie Robertson describes the plight of Native Americans massacred at Wounded Knee and for some reason I now "understand" with empathy to the n'th degree.
Id/Ego/Superego: "Aha", I respond to Joey Ramone's statement that the kids "got their surfboards and they're going to the discotec, a go-go". Just as the id evolves to the ego, and the ego with social pressure may become the superego, the circle does not stop there. As society, government,or extremists decide what is "right", and protects it at all costs, the superego now starts to rationalize behavior that is the norm for the id. Extreme right or left wing behavior is certainly not based in the ego when violence, destruction, dishonesty and cruelty are rationalized. I hate to say it (I must be old), but when it comes to the psyche, MOR is the way to go. As anyone who read Rock magazines in the 70's knows, MOR means middle of the road.
Knowledge of the Garden Variety: Yes my basil masters are long gone, but their close relatives keep teaching me. Only yesterday did I dispose of the final two tomato plants, but not before they bestowed upon me one last lesson. As I pulled them from the earth, Linda said "wait, look at all the green tomatoes, let's put them on the windowsill". There is not doubt that some, if not all of these, will ripen and nourish us with their sweet taste and nutrients. But what of all of those "green tomatoes" that sit waiting to ripen in our own lives, yet never do. How much unfulfilled potential do each us have that never comes to fruition. It is impossible to reap all of the fruit in our life, there is only so much time. Yet we all have talents, gifts and knowledge that will allow us to succeed, and in many cases make the world a better place, if only we make the effort and have faith. So just go do it damn it, and when those tomatoes become red, make sure you season them with a bit of basil.
Holy crap, I almost forgot, Sports is all that matters in life!!!! Go Yanks, Giants stink, Knicks should be arrested.
Once again I am struck by the premise that the benefit of working out is oh so much more than just shedding pounds and lowering blood pressure and improving times. 50 years of angst, self doubt and confusion are washed away by 25 minutes of a "cross country" program on the eliptical. Ah, the joy of sweat! What creative and spiritual insights one achieves when pushing one's own physical envelope. While on the treadmill and eliptical machine in AZ with many senior citizens (were they also listening to the Ramones on their mp3 players?), these surprising revelations occurred:
The Trancendance of Music: As I "elipt" on the eliptical machine, each new song dealt up by my i-pod shuffle allows me to traverse years, cultural barriers and preconceptions.
"The punk meets the godfather" from Quadrophenia by the Who transports me back to 1973. I am 14 years old and at the lake at night with friends, not surrounded by senior citizens at the health club, most 20 years my senior."Across the Lines" by Tracy Chapman describes the vast differences between white and black, and the violent ways that we cope with those differences. I wonder when listening to the lyrics if we are now truly in "post racial America" given the fact that Obama has been elected president. I think not. "Ghost Dance" by Robbie Robertson describes the plight of Native Americans massacred at Wounded Knee and for some reason I now "understand" with empathy to the n'th degree.
Id/Ego/Superego: "Aha", I respond to Joey Ramone's statement that the kids "got their surfboards and they're going to the discotec, a go-go". Just as the id evolves to the ego, and the ego with social pressure may become the superego, the circle does not stop there. As society, government,or extremists decide what is "right", and protects it at all costs, the superego now starts to rationalize behavior that is the norm for the id. Extreme right or left wing behavior is certainly not based in the ego when violence, destruction, dishonesty and cruelty are rationalized. I hate to say it (I must be old), but when it comes to the psyche, MOR is the way to go. As anyone who read Rock magazines in the 70's knows, MOR means middle of the road.
Knowledge of the Garden Variety: Yes my basil masters are long gone, but their close relatives keep teaching me. Only yesterday did I dispose of the final two tomato plants, but not before they bestowed upon me one last lesson. As I pulled them from the earth, Linda said "wait, look at all the green tomatoes, let's put them on the windowsill". There is not doubt that some, if not all of these, will ripen and nourish us with their sweet taste and nutrients. But what of all of those "green tomatoes" that sit waiting to ripen in our own lives, yet never do. How much unfulfilled potential do each us have that never comes to fruition. It is impossible to reap all of the fruit in our life, there is only so much time. Yet we all have talents, gifts and knowledge that will allow us to succeed, and in many cases make the world a better place, if only we make the effort and have faith. So just go do it damn it, and when those tomatoes become red, make sure you season them with a bit of basil.
Holy crap, I almost forgot, Sports is all that matters in life!!!! Go Yanks, Giants stink, Knicks should be arrested.
Keep the faith!
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Keep Those Tweets Coming !
Misrepresentation of the Highest order: Oh I'm sorry, did I mislead you? About what? Oh, no that is not referring to twitter. Mein Gott im himmel no! Riding through the preserve the other day I was struck by the amazing array of unique birds flying by, chillin on branches, and "tweeting" to me as I sped past. These are truly the "tweets" that thrill me, keep me high, and make me LOL. BTW is the whole acronym AOL thing just totally passe' anymore? Do Russians still use KAOS (KGB Agent Over Shoulder) ? But anyway back to tweeting in the current sense, which does not make sense to me. Is the concept that any thought that you are thinking, the "internal dialogue" as Castaneda referred to it, must now be broadcast to the world? Will we eventually reach the point that a transmitter or firewire-ready connection is simply attached to our brain and the thoughts auto-magically flow to the internet, plasma monitor or other global sink of information?
I must say this twitter stuff can lead to conceit and self importance. Just reading that email that says my brother-in-law is requesting permission to receive my protected tweets fills me with power and a misguided feeling of purpose. And where can I find this "tweet protector"? Should I go to the pharmacy or perhaps a sporting goods store. Is it as nerdy as a "pocket protector"? Yes it is hard to know how far to go these days in communicating with your friends, family, business associates and kindergarten classmates. Facebook, Linkedin, Twitter, Myspace, Skype. It makes me long for the days when Ralph Kramden would simply open the window and scream NORTON!. Now that was an instant message!
Lesson from Al: I think that Al was a bit overwhelmed with the Bike MS tour I did this past Sunday, as he was somewhat quiet and not his boastful, brash self. Perhaps it was the 5000 other bikes on display, many in the $1000-$3000 dollar range by my estimate. Yes there was even a gentleman on a racing bike that he had not only shined, but his tires obviously had been polished with Armor All. If I ever reach that point just shoot me, OK? The lesson I learned from Al during the tour was subtle, but reminded me to enjoy the journey, and never be too busy to appeciate the beauty of life, nature, and the wisdom that each moment brings. Although the tour was crowded and I could not bike as fast as I would have liked, especially given the fact that I had a broken spoke and wobbly back rim, the views of the Hudson and East rivers were spectacular. Harlem and Washington Heights are home to some of the most beautiful parks I have seen. I was shocked by the beauty of the day, and of the course.
My Word! When we say Magnificent, what do we mean? Probably the biggest hit on the new U2 cd, "Magnificent" is a term of ultimate quality, as in "The Magnificent 7", both a movie and a Clash song. I refuse to google or webster it, until I make as many absurd and innacurate assumptions about the word as possible. When quality of an entity is magnified, does it become magnificent? More in the next blog after some research on google,webster and Mad magazine.
The Withering Basil: Although it is October 6, it is still 60 degrees at times, so my basil is scrawny and weak, but still breathing. I have not picked any leaves lately, and will soon put the old sages out of their misery. Thank you my teachers, sleep peacefully. We will meet again come spring. The wisdom you have imparted will allow me to survive the challenges of the winter.
Peace and Fun to Everyone!
I must say this twitter stuff can lead to conceit and self importance. Just reading that email that says my brother-in-law is requesting permission to receive my protected tweets fills me with power and a misguided feeling of purpose. And where can I find this "tweet protector"? Should I go to the pharmacy or perhaps a sporting goods store. Is it as nerdy as a "pocket protector"? Yes it is hard to know how far to go these days in communicating with your friends, family, business associates and kindergarten classmates. Facebook, Linkedin, Twitter, Myspace, Skype. It makes me long for the days when Ralph Kramden would simply open the window and scream NORTON!. Now that was an instant message!
Lesson from Al: I think that Al was a bit overwhelmed with the Bike MS tour I did this past Sunday, as he was somewhat quiet and not his boastful, brash self. Perhaps it was the 5000 other bikes on display, many in the $1000-$3000 dollar range by my estimate. Yes there was even a gentleman on a racing bike that he had not only shined, but his tires obviously had been polished with Armor All. If I ever reach that point just shoot me, OK? The lesson I learned from Al during the tour was subtle, but reminded me to enjoy the journey, and never be too busy to appeciate the beauty of life, nature, and the wisdom that each moment brings. Although the tour was crowded and I could not bike as fast as I would have liked, especially given the fact that I had a broken spoke and wobbly back rim, the views of the Hudson and East rivers were spectacular. Harlem and Washington Heights are home to some of the most beautiful parks I have seen. I was shocked by the beauty of the day, and of the course.
My Word! When we say Magnificent, what do we mean? Probably the biggest hit on the new U2 cd, "Magnificent" is a term of ultimate quality, as in "The Magnificent 7", both a movie and a Clash song. I refuse to google or webster it, until I make as many absurd and innacurate assumptions about the word as possible. When quality of an entity is magnified, does it become magnificent? More in the next blog after some research on google,webster and Mad magazine.
The Withering Basil: Although it is October 6, it is still 60 degrees at times, so my basil is scrawny and weak, but still breathing. I have not picked any leaves lately, and will soon put the old sages out of their misery. Thank you my teachers, sleep peacefully. We will meet again come spring. The wisdom you have imparted will allow me to survive the challenges of the winter.
Peace and Fun to Everyone!
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
If you Screw Up, Success Follows...or "The Explosion is Coming"
Life just never seems to make sense eh? That is the beauty, irony, joy and suffering of it all, and why I can't keep a straight face. The greatest plans and efforts end in disaster, and then when you are clueless and take your eye off the ball, wham! you hit one over the fence. Or something like that.
The big argument I am having with Al (the Mongoose), is if I have to be riding for him to teach me lessons, or if lessons learned while he sits there as a pathetic patient must be attributed to his bloody conceited self! So yes my left pedal broke again and I decided to take matters into my own hands (play scary music appropriate for impending doom). Yes I needed to borrow a pedal wrench from a friend, but hey I still had that other pedal from the last set I purchased. Sadly it was a right pedal and I chose to use it on the left side, which has a different thread. The fuse has been lit.
Disaster Strikes: 15 minues from home, cause and effect collide, and my pedal falls off. Silly me, I think, I must not have tightened it properly. Sorry Matt, the threads are stripped, and you are screwed. All is not lost though, and as I bike home on one pedal, I hear my name called.
A friend from work who retired a year ago greets me and we have a nice chat, catching up on old times and mutual friends. Worth it? Maybe, but let's get the bike shop bill first.
Damage Control: I talk to friends at work about my stupid dilemma and get responses like "hmmmm", and "you know the pedals are threaded,right". Well now I do you genius.
Online forums alert me to the fact that I can get a new crank set for about $200, and then install it myself. Wow, how dumb can I be?
Redemption: When all else fails, and you are lamenting in your own "Gesthemane", there is only one thing to do. Call Al. No not that Al, Al's Bike Shop. I explained my transgression and he coldly stated, "Yeah bring it in. $13 for the crank arm and $3 to install". That's it, $17 bucks including tax, and my sin will be forgiven? Yes the forces that control our universe truly are benevolent, forgiving and compassionate. At least until my next mechanical Faux Pas.
Enough Al, I gave you credit for teaching me yet another lesson, simply because you were disabled and I improperly treated you. What?...Oh yeah right you simply did that on your own accord just to teach me. If you think I believe that then, well wait, maybe, it could happen..
Monkey Business: Don't assume that the forces of universal chaos and successful illogic occur only in the recreational world. Based on my idependent research and general tomfoolery, I have proven that they reign in the corproate world as well. For the past 2 months or so I have been questioning what the hell I have been doing at work, and what if any, value I add to the organization. In cases like this my motto is, "just wait", because things are going to take a turn for the better or a tsunami is around the corner that will transport you into Dante's holy hell! So of course a reorganization occurs, followed by one of my peer's resigning, and lo and behold I am the last man standing. Before I know it people are shaking my hand and saying "congratulations, I know you can do it" and "you really do deserve it", and "it's about time". As people extend these platitudes to me I am tempted to 1) faint 2) call in sick for about 2 years or 3) jump up on my desk and scream "Don't you understand that I have no clue what is going on here!" I have thus far resisted doing any of these things and continue to listen to that slow tick....tick....tick.
Survival: The big question is whether or not we can predict, or even better, control that big explosion that is coming. My belief is that we can. If we simply sit back and fall prey to the stresses and silly morons that clutter our daily lives we passively state that we are open to the explosion happening at any time, and being of a negative, destructive nature. But if we actively take our show on the road, treadmill, water, squash court or yoga mat, we actively take control and tell ourselves and the world that the explosion will be one of joy, beauty and peace. I typically don't quote the bible, but in Acts 8:15-17 we read "when doubt occurs, one must be of the mind to BRING IT ON HOMEBOY, I WILL SHOW YOU WHAT I GOT! Amen.
Just returned from a 2 hour lesson from Al and I must say he was quiet today. I think he wanted to place emphasis on the one lesson that was so relevant, pertaining to the explosion. It occurred while going downhill at a decent pace after traversing up several hills. Nothing specific or profound, just a positive feeling moving forward, coupled with clarity and the understanding that my pulse rate seems to be perfectly in sync with .....the ticking.
Garden Update: The basil plants are entering their last phase of life, it seems, and both are producing sweet smelling leaves, but at a slower rate. The parsley has pretty much called it a day, while the tomato plants are now the MVP's (most valuable plant), giving us lots of colorful delicious fruit. It is that time of year when the summer heat and humidity gives way to cooler, dryer air, and the increasing darkness reminds us that fall is coming. The combination of cooler temperatures, darkness and the sound of crickets in the morning triggers a reaction that I have felt for seemingly all my years. It is a combination of anxiety, anticipation and the mysterious desire to hurl, for some unknown reason.
The big argument I am having with Al (the Mongoose), is if I have to be riding for him to teach me lessons, or if lessons learned while he sits there as a pathetic patient must be attributed to his bloody conceited self! So yes my left pedal broke again and I decided to take matters into my own hands (play scary music appropriate for impending doom). Yes I needed to borrow a pedal wrench from a friend, but hey I still had that other pedal from the last set I purchased. Sadly it was a right pedal and I chose to use it on the left side, which has a different thread. The fuse has been lit.
Disaster Strikes: 15 minues from home, cause and effect collide, and my pedal falls off. Silly me, I think, I must not have tightened it properly. Sorry Matt, the threads are stripped, and you are screwed. All is not lost though, and as I bike home on one pedal, I hear my name called.
A friend from work who retired a year ago greets me and we have a nice chat, catching up on old times and mutual friends. Worth it? Maybe, but let's get the bike shop bill first.
Damage Control: I talk to friends at work about my stupid dilemma and get responses like "hmmmm", and "you know the pedals are threaded,right". Well now I do you genius.
Online forums alert me to the fact that I can get a new crank set for about $200, and then install it myself. Wow, how dumb can I be?
Redemption: When all else fails, and you are lamenting in your own "Gesthemane", there is only one thing to do. Call Al. No not that Al, Al's Bike Shop. I explained my transgression and he coldly stated, "Yeah bring it in. $13 for the crank arm and $3 to install". That's it, $17 bucks including tax, and my sin will be forgiven? Yes the forces that control our universe truly are benevolent, forgiving and compassionate. At least until my next mechanical Faux Pas.
Enough Al, I gave you credit for teaching me yet another lesson, simply because you were disabled and I improperly treated you. What?...Oh yeah right you simply did that on your own accord just to teach me. If you think I believe that then, well wait, maybe, it could happen..
Monkey Business: Don't assume that the forces of universal chaos and successful illogic occur only in the recreational world. Based on my idependent research and general tomfoolery, I have proven that they reign in the corproate world as well. For the past 2 months or so I have been questioning what the hell I have been doing at work, and what if any, value I add to the organization. In cases like this my motto is, "just wait", because things are going to take a turn for the better or a tsunami is around the corner that will transport you into Dante's holy hell! So of course a reorganization occurs, followed by one of my peer's resigning, and lo and behold I am the last man standing. Before I know it people are shaking my hand and saying "congratulations, I know you can do it" and "you really do deserve it", and "it's about time". As people extend these platitudes to me I am tempted to 1) faint 2) call in sick for about 2 years or 3) jump up on my desk and scream "Don't you understand that I have no clue what is going on here!" I have thus far resisted doing any of these things and continue to listen to that slow tick....tick....tick.
Survival: The big question is whether or not we can predict, or even better, control that big explosion that is coming. My belief is that we can. If we simply sit back and fall prey to the stresses and silly morons that clutter our daily lives we passively state that we are open to the explosion happening at any time, and being of a negative, destructive nature. But if we actively take our show on the road, treadmill, water, squash court or yoga mat, we actively take control and tell ourselves and the world that the explosion will be one of joy, beauty and peace. I typically don't quote the bible, but in Acts 8:15-17 we read "when doubt occurs, one must be of the mind to BRING IT ON HOMEBOY, I WILL SHOW YOU WHAT I GOT! Amen.
Just returned from a 2 hour lesson from Al and I must say he was quiet today. I think he wanted to place emphasis on the one lesson that was so relevant, pertaining to the explosion. It occurred while going downhill at a decent pace after traversing up several hills. Nothing specific or profound, just a positive feeling moving forward, coupled with clarity and the understanding that my pulse rate seems to be perfectly in sync with .....the ticking.
Garden Update: The basil plants are entering their last phase of life, it seems, and both are producing sweet smelling leaves, but at a slower rate. The parsley has pretty much called it a day, while the tomato plants are now the MVP's (most valuable plant), giving us lots of colorful delicious fruit. It is that time of year when the summer heat and humidity gives way to cooler, dryer air, and the increasing darkness reminds us that fall is coming. The combination of cooler temperatures, darkness and the sound of crickets in the morning triggers a reaction that I have felt for seemingly all my years. It is a combination of anxiety, anticipation and the mysterious desire to hurl, for some unknown reason.
Could it be the conditioned response of years of dreading the start of school, or perhaps it is the internal human clock. Do our bodies make an instinctual correlation between the seasons caused by the spinning of the earth, and the cycle of our existance here on earth.? Hmmm, wow that makes my head hurt.
My Word! Have you noticed the latest vocalism that is en vogue these days? "Yeah-Yeah" spoken quickly with a bit more accent on the first yeah, is being heard more and more in the workplace, in bars, at poetry readings, and at garbage dumps and morgues (how would I know?) Is it a throwback to the fab vocab of the Beatles, or just the latest nuance of human-speak. Not sure and it certainly is not as a prevalent as the annoying "Yeah-No" that swept the Long Island/NYC and who knows where else about 2 years ago. At any rate, listen for it eminating from a set of teeth near you.
Until next time, Keep the Faith and don't let that ticking sound keep you up at night, as it is probably only the alarm clock. Oh wait that's digital. Oops, now you know how I feel.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Just when you feel so Omnipotent
, reality smacks you in the face, and you realize that you're nothing more than an aging superhero! Boy do I know how that feels. All the mathematical equations, tried and true methods and meticulous planning and yet......THAT BASIL PLANT IS HUGE! Holy Cow, as Phil Rizzuto used to say, that basil plant was the weakling, on the shady side of the planet, left to fend for itself, not long for this world. The other plant that I moved into the sun seemed to be doing fine though. Tonight I go out to converse with my home-veggies and the runt has 4 inch leaves. Wow that is so shocking and inspiring and educational. I picked 4 or 5 of those sweet smelling leaves, and pondered what steroid mixture or voodoo incantations had caused this.
My fragrant, green teacher is at it again, asking me to empty my cup, and learn the Tao of Basil:
Let Go: We cover every base, make every preparation, learn every nuance, and we think we are in control. Sometimes fate, divinity, or illegal mexican day laborors step in and change the path of our existance. At this point, let go and realize that sometimes we cannot control our destiny, that it is all "controlled folly" as Castaneda says. DO NOT RESIST or object, just adapt and move with the current.
Recognize Change: Do not hold prejudices, but look at each person, situation and flesh-eating zombie as a changing entity, today perhaps different than yesterday. From the moment I moved the other basil plant into the sun, I assume it was the healthiest, and ignored the gradual growth of the other lesser plant. It took an extreme change, those leaves the size of a cow's tongue, to make me "see" the plant in it's current state.
My logic, and my self are flawed: We often believe that we are right, when we are surely wrong (do I ever do that Linda?). Similar to a prejudice, our self image makes us want to be right. This often blinds us to clues that say we are wrong, or makes us forget to truly think things out. Sometimes we are just lazy. I assumed that moving the other plant to the "sunnier" side of the garden 2 months ago made him healthier, forever. In the past two months, the sun's trajectory has changed, and the tomato plants and parsley adjacent to the Basilia has grown and now provide varying amounts of shade as well. I thought I knew, but I didn't. Mea Culpa. Knowing that you don't know sometimes helps. Huh?
If my teacher is a plant what am I? On Kung Fu, Master Po called his student (David Carradine) "Grasshopper". Hmm, what other insect hangs arounds gardens looking to commune with vegetables? SLUG! Yes and they like beer too, as do I. Something about getting a new monicker makes you feel accepted, one of the guys, or ..um...bugs. Anyway, if you see me on the street, please don't call me Slug, that is a sacred name, only to be uttered by my teacher. Peace.
My fragrant, green teacher is at it again, asking me to empty my cup, and learn the Tao of Basil:
Let Go: We cover every base, make every preparation, learn every nuance, and we think we are in control. Sometimes fate, divinity, or illegal mexican day laborors step in and change the path of our existance. At this point, let go and realize that sometimes we cannot control our destiny, that it is all "controlled folly" as Castaneda says. DO NOT RESIST or object, just adapt and move with the current.
Recognize Change: Do not hold prejudices, but look at each person, situation and flesh-eating zombie as a changing entity, today perhaps different than yesterday. From the moment I moved the other basil plant into the sun, I assume it was the healthiest, and ignored the gradual growth of the other lesser plant. It took an extreme change, those leaves the size of a cow's tongue, to make me "see" the plant in it's current state.
My logic, and my self are flawed: We often believe that we are right, when we are surely wrong (do I ever do that Linda?). Similar to a prejudice, our self image makes us want to be right. This often blinds us to clues that say we are wrong, or makes us forget to truly think things out. Sometimes we are just lazy. I assumed that moving the other plant to the "sunnier" side of the garden 2 months ago made him healthier, forever. In the past two months, the sun's trajectory has changed, and the tomato plants and parsley adjacent to the Basilia has grown and now provide varying amounts of shade as well. I thought I knew, but I didn't. Mea Culpa. Knowing that you don't know sometimes helps. Huh?
If my teacher is a plant what am I? On Kung Fu, Master Po called his student (David Carradine) "Grasshopper". Hmm, what other insect hangs arounds gardens looking to commune with vegetables? SLUG! Yes and they like beer too, as do I. Something about getting a new monicker makes you feel accepted, one of the guys, or ..um...bugs. Anyway, if you see me on the street, please don't call me Slug, that is a sacred name, only to be uttered by my teacher. Peace.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Yes I know he's an Arrogant Wanker but.....
Hello again from the center of the universe, because that is where I live. When babies are born, I have read, or maybe I just made this up, they believe for a certain period that they are the planet around which all action revolves. Most kids realize rather quickly that this is not the case. Isn't it funny how some people, especially certain selfish, nausiating adults, never learn that lesson? Speaking of somewhat arrogant, self-important adults, I have discovered (yes that's right!!!) another teacher.
"It's not a hill, it's a mountain" from "If I don't go crazy tonight" Bono/U2
"You got nothing I need, I can breathe" from "Breathe" Bono/U2
Oh I know many people will not like to hear that we can learn from that bad boy Bono, the cocky World Hunger champion who in general projects the fact that he is very fond of himself. But just hear me out before condemning me to the snake pit or nun convent:
When evaluating art, should the beholder consider the political, religious or ethical values of the artist? Hmmm, that is a tough one. As a student of art, of course, these factors enter into the analysis of the work of art or artist. But when deciding whether you like the song, painting, poem, sculpture or salami sandwich, must we consider the political party or social graces of the deli owner?
Sorry just a second...what Al? I'm busy stop bothering me. OK, OK I will, just cool it. Wow, Mongoose is really touchy about me including a "Mongoose Lesson" in every post, so here goes.
Lesson from Mongoose: "Obama and Iran".
There are a handful of people that I pretty much see every day that I bike. One of them is a rather large, imposing gentlemen that walks a large, similarly mean looking pit bull. Dogs are not allowed in the preserve, but as you guessed it, I am not going to break that news to him. The first 2 or 3 times I passed him. I gave my standard "good morning" to which he did not reply, respond or even look up. This did not deter me as, when I am flying by, endorphins firing and procreating, I have no choice. Each subsequent "good morning" produced a look, a nod, and finally a "good morning". This guy will never be in my will, but now I can assume that if I crash, he may not let his dog eat me alive. "Just shoot me first". I could have never said hello, or I could have said "get your dog out of here". I would never do that, as I would never invite this guy and his dog to my house. Given the realities of the situation, make the most of it, even if it means breaking the ice, one two or three times. Obama has the same issue with Iran, Syria and other countries. Not talking, maybe threatening, is often unproductive. Communicating does not mean endorsement. If I don't communicate with you and establish a relationship, how can I incluence your actions? If that fails, then we nuke you !!! (just kidding).
Infomercial Alert: As I am also in the useless invention business (I am?, oh yeah I am taking over for Billy Mays RIP), I have the inside scoop on life-changing products before you see them advertized on channel 9 at 2 am. The first of many is the Lexicometer. This device, when attached to your throat, accurately measures words spoken per minute, average syllable per word, total syllables per sentence, and the education grade level at which the user is speaking. Just read this testimonial from Grub (formally Muffy), from Alabama:
" I had moved to the trailer park with high hopes, but nobody gave me a second glance, or invited me to any of the glue-sniffing parties. At first I thought it was because I wore a wreath of asparagus, and live centipedes for earings. Little did I know that my diction was just way too high-brow for these adorable losers. Once I started wearing the lexicometer, the problem was obvious. Each week I dumbed down my conversation, measuring my regress, following the easy to follow directions on how to sound like an elementary school dropout. Now I have lots of unemployed, homeless friends. I recently married a prisoner, and nobody will ever know that I have an MS in English from Harvard. Thank you Lexicometer! "
Wow, that story brings a tear to my eye, and also gives me a slight twitch.
My Word! What the L is that boy thinking? In the "what a difference a letter makes" category, add an L to savage and you have salvage. Which begs the question man has asked througout history, can we salvage the savage? This is a question that the U.S. must also answer in regard to wars in Iraq and Iran. What do Charles Dickens and Notorious BIG have in common? Yes both made their living from words, but the real answer is that both lived in a "crib". In Great Expectations , Pip refers to The Temple, where he and Herbert live, as "his crib". Although Dickens never went as far as stating his intention to "pimp his crib", it does make one wonder if there is a connection.
Basil Alert: We recently attended a back yard party, and the hosts had basil plants in pots on their patio, in full sun. These plants were monsters. The leaves and total height were 4 times as large as mine. Perfect environment, maximum growth. That is our goal.
Keep the faith, and keep growing. Peace.
"It's not a hill, it's a mountain" from "If I don't go crazy tonight" Bono/U2
"You got nothing I need, I can breathe" from "Breathe" Bono/U2
Oh I know many people will not like to hear that we can learn from that bad boy Bono, the cocky World Hunger champion who in general projects the fact that he is very fond of himself. But just hear me out before condemning me to the snake pit or nun convent:
When evaluating art, should the beholder consider the political, religious or ethical values of the artist? Hmmm, that is a tough one. As a student of art, of course, these factors enter into the analysis of the work of art or artist. But when deciding whether you like the song, painting, poem, sculpture or salami sandwich, must we consider the political party or social graces of the deli owner?
And now for some amateurish, and completely irresponsible interpretation:
"It's not a hill, it's a mountain"- When deciding whether to climb, would you rather see a hill or a mountain? In my mind a person decides to climb for their personal elevation, not based on the elevation of the challenge. If I am truly dedicated to the climb, and you say "but it's a mountain", I say "bring it on". Often the challege must match the desire, or the desire wanes.
"You got nothing I need, I can breathe"- Wow, how relevant is this, on a day when my schedule includes an eyebrow waxing, tanning session, trip to Macy's for Kenneth Cole shoes and then a spin on my $2000 Specialized mountain bike. Did I mention that my bike trip will be plotted by my GPS Iphone application? Is this point crystal clear, as in how much do we need? Food, loved ones, music, books, bike, beer, done. Even the beer could go, but given my contributions to society, let's splurge. The more we get, the more we "need". But if you stop kidding yourself, you know better.Sorry just a second...what Al? I'm busy stop bothering me. OK, OK I will, just cool it. Wow, Mongoose is really touchy about me including a "Mongoose Lesson" in every post, so here goes.
Lesson from Mongoose: "Obama and Iran".
There are a handful of people that I pretty much see every day that I bike. One of them is a rather large, imposing gentlemen that walks a large, similarly mean looking pit bull. Dogs are not allowed in the preserve, but as you guessed it, I am not going to break that news to him. The first 2 or 3 times I passed him. I gave my standard "good morning" to which he did not reply, respond or even look up. This did not deter me as, when I am flying by, endorphins firing and procreating, I have no choice. Each subsequent "good morning" produced a look, a nod, and finally a "good morning". This guy will never be in my will, but now I can assume that if I crash, he may not let his dog eat me alive. "Just shoot me first". I could have never said hello, or I could have said "get your dog out of here". I would never do that, as I would never invite this guy and his dog to my house. Given the realities of the situation, make the most of it, even if it means breaking the ice, one two or three times. Obama has the same issue with Iran, Syria and other countries. Not talking, maybe threatening, is often unproductive. Communicating does not mean endorsement. If I don't communicate with you and establish a relationship, how can I incluence your actions? If that fails, then we nuke you !!! (just kidding).
Infomercial Alert: As I am also in the useless invention business (I am?, oh yeah I am taking over for Billy Mays RIP), I have the inside scoop on life-changing products before you see them advertized on channel 9 at 2 am. The first of many is the Lexicometer. This device, when attached to your throat, accurately measures words spoken per minute, average syllable per word, total syllables per sentence, and the education grade level at which the user is speaking. Just read this testimonial from Grub (formally Muffy), from Alabama:
" I had moved to the trailer park with high hopes, but nobody gave me a second glance, or invited me to any of the glue-sniffing parties. At first I thought it was because I wore a wreath of asparagus, and live centipedes for earings. Little did I know that my diction was just way too high-brow for these adorable losers. Once I started wearing the lexicometer, the problem was obvious. Each week I dumbed down my conversation, measuring my regress, following the easy to follow directions on how to sound like an elementary school dropout. Now I have lots of unemployed, homeless friends. I recently married a prisoner, and nobody will ever know that I have an MS in English from Harvard. Thank you Lexicometer! "
Wow, that story brings a tear to my eye, and also gives me a slight twitch.
My Word! What the L is that boy thinking? In the "what a difference a letter makes" category, add an L to savage and you have salvage. Which begs the question man has asked througout history, can we salvage the savage? This is a question that the U.S. must also answer in regard to wars in Iraq and Iran. What do Charles Dickens and Notorious BIG have in common? Yes both made their living from words, but the real answer is that both lived in a "crib". In Great Expectations , Pip refers to The Temple, where he and Herbert live, as "his crib". Although Dickens never went as far as stating his intention to "pimp his crib", it does make one wonder if there is a connection.
Basil Alert: We recently attended a back yard party, and the hosts had basil plants in pots on their patio, in full sun. These plants were monsters. The leaves and total height were 4 times as large as mine. Perfect environment, maximum growth. That is our goal.
Keep the faith, and keep growing. Peace.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
And the Teacher Told Me
You all remember the Jethro Tull song "Teacher" from the "Benefit" album in 1970? What's an album you say? Just give me the AARP tattoo and put me in a nursing home. A new feature of the blog is that each post will begin with a quote from a rock song, ala Stephen King, who often starts a chapter in similar fashion. I stopped reading Stephen after "Needful Things". I thought that there were a lot of "Needless Things" in that novel, namely gratuitous gore and violence which did not add to the story line, making the action somewhat contrived. Needless to say, King's book sales suffered once I stopped reading him, and since then he has only sold about 1000 times more books than that cult classic, The Bible. (just kidding about the new feature rot, I may be arrested, taken hostage or transported by Scottie by the next post time, so why worry about that!).
But back to today's theme "Mongoose as Teacher". No, not the Mongoose from Rudyard Kipling's short story "Rikki Tikki Tavi" (1894), or the Donovan song "Riki Tiki Tavi" (1970), but the mongoose that is my bike. Formally Mongoose Rockadile A.L., Al to me, Mongoose for this lesson. Yes,as we have discussed before, there are many teachers in this life: basil plants, aliens from other planets (as opposed to aliens from Mexico), and Mongoose.
If you listen to Dr. George Sheehan, running guru from the 70's and 80's and author of the book "Running and Being", we learn who we are when we run, bike, dance, play basketball, tennis, meditate or anything else that we do for play. Similar to Joseph Campbell's concept of "following your bliss", it is in play and leisure that we learn the real lessons of life. And as I have said many times, to my family's dismay, "sweating brings you closer to God". But enough drivel, on to to the lessons of Mongoose:
1) Quality- We all know what quality is right? If not, or if you are looking for a wild, chaotic, profound ride, please read "Zen and the Art of Motorcyle Maintenance" by Robert Piersig. I read that book 2 or 3 times, still not quite sure what it all means. Mongoose has shown me that quality is hitting that 5 mile mark at your best time yet, when the weather is perfect and I am one with the wheels. He has also asked me what it means when I hit that 5 mile mark 2 or 3 minutes late, yet soldier on to the halfway mark, 10 minutes behind. Finishing your ride with a terrible time, feeling slow, yet finishing none the less. Grasshopper, is that also quality?
2) Cause and effect- In this case closely related to accountability, this is the category where we put ourselves in the petrie dish and (please don't turn on the bunson burner!), perform some experiments. So last week I felt great and hit that road at the 20 minute mark. Hmmm, today I hit it at the 24 minute mark, I wonder why? It was those inconsiderate runners who refused to move, or that couple walking their kids (or were they dogs?) on leashes who slowed me down. Oh Matt, Mongoose interjects, let's get real. Yeah yeah it was the 6 beers I had last night, and the fact that I got only six hours sleep. I see the effect and I know the cause. Fate and destiny, and divine intervention occur often in the movies, seldom in life. It is cause and effect people !
3) Self Awareness: In the Nicholus Roeg film "The Last Wave" the leader of the Australian aboriginal tribe, Charlie, would sit on the floor and intone to the other tribe members "who are you, who are you" over and over, his words inducing in them a trance-like state as they entered "the dreamworld". That is the big question for us, and as I bike I come closer to the answer. I may pass someone 20 years younger than me, and as I congratulate myself and proclaim "I'm not dead yet!", a grandpa 15 years my senior flies by, leaving in the dust, snapping me back to humble reality. As Bruce Lee said, man must know his limitations. My only question is "Do I have to have so many?!"
4) Nature/Social acceptance: Mongoose has taught me that no species has more intrinsic, moral or social value than another. So what that I don't seem to fit in with the other bikers on the trail, or that groups of runners shun me as I cheerfully proclaim "Good morning fellow homo sapiens"! No man is an island, and if I need to tap other species and phylums for recreation, conversation and acceptance, so bet it. I have noticed though, that rabbits are so cliquish, and that those friekin squirrels ditched me the other day when they promised they would let me eat (acorns) with them.
5) B.U. - bottom line, according to Mongoose, you just have to be yourself. Find an activity that allows you to do that in the purest way, and do it, as often as possible.
Basil update: Tomato and Parsley are making great strides and towering over my poor basil plants. Hmm, cause and effect in play again. Basils are too far on the shady side of the garden, not experiencing their sun. I will move one and see what happens. If you are not growing sufficiently, time to move closer to your sun. Peace all.
David Carradine, so sad. RIP Grasshopper, one of my earliest teachers.
But back to today's theme "Mongoose as Teacher". No, not the Mongoose from Rudyard Kipling's short story "Rikki Tikki Tavi" (1894), or the Donovan song "Riki Tiki Tavi" (1970), but the mongoose that is my bike. Formally Mongoose Rockadile A.L., Al to me, Mongoose for this lesson. Yes,as we have discussed before, there are many teachers in this life: basil plants, aliens from other planets (as opposed to aliens from Mexico), and Mongoose.
If you listen to Dr. George Sheehan, running guru from the 70's and 80's and author of the book "Running and Being", we learn who we are when we run, bike, dance, play basketball, tennis, meditate or anything else that we do for play. Similar to Joseph Campbell's concept of "following your bliss", it is in play and leisure that we learn the real lessons of life. And as I have said many times, to my family's dismay, "sweating brings you closer to God". But enough drivel, on to to the lessons of Mongoose:
1) Quality- We all know what quality is right? If not, or if you are looking for a wild, chaotic, profound ride, please read "Zen and the Art of Motorcyle Maintenance" by Robert Piersig. I read that book 2 or 3 times, still not quite sure what it all means. Mongoose has shown me that quality is hitting that 5 mile mark at your best time yet, when the weather is perfect and I am one with the wheels. He has also asked me what it means when I hit that 5 mile mark 2 or 3 minutes late, yet soldier on to the halfway mark, 10 minutes behind. Finishing your ride with a terrible time, feeling slow, yet finishing none the less. Grasshopper, is that also quality?
2) Cause and effect- In this case closely related to accountability, this is the category where we put ourselves in the petrie dish and (please don't turn on the bunson burner!), perform some experiments. So last week I felt great and hit that road at the 20 minute mark. Hmmm, today I hit it at the 24 minute mark, I wonder why? It was those inconsiderate runners who refused to move, or that couple walking their kids (or were they dogs?) on leashes who slowed me down. Oh Matt, Mongoose interjects, let's get real. Yeah yeah it was the 6 beers I had last night, and the fact that I got only six hours sleep. I see the effect and I know the cause. Fate and destiny, and divine intervention occur often in the movies, seldom in life. It is cause and effect people !
3) Self Awareness: In the Nicholus Roeg film "The Last Wave" the leader of the Australian aboriginal tribe, Charlie, would sit on the floor and intone to the other tribe members "who are you, who are you" over and over, his words inducing in them a trance-like state as they entered "the dreamworld". That is the big question for us, and as I bike I come closer to the answer. I may pass someone 20 years younger than me, and as I congratulate myself and proclaim "I'm not dead yet!", a grandpa 15 years my senior flies by, leaving in the dust, snapping me back to humble reality. As Bruce Lee said, man must know his limitations. My only question is "Do I have to have so many?!"
4) Nature/Social acceptance: Mongoose has taught me that no species has more intrinsic, moral or social value than another. So what that I don't seem to fit in with the other bikers on the trail, or that groups of runners shun me as I cheerfully proclaim "Good morning fellow homo sapiens"! No man is an island, and if I need to tap other species and phylums for recreation, conversation and acceptance, so bet it. I have noticed though, that rabbits are so cliquish, and that those friekin squirrels ditched me the other day when they promised they would let me eat (acorns) with them.
5) B.U. - bottom line, according to Mongoose, you just have to be yourself. Find an activity that allows you to do that in the purest way, and do it, as often as possible.
Basil update: Tomato and Parsley are making great strides and towering over my poor basil plants. Hmm, cause and effect in play again. Basils are too far on the shady side of the garden, not experiencing their sun. I will move one and see what happens. If you are not growing sufficiently, time to move closer to your sun. Peace all.
David Carradine, so sad. RIP Grasshopper, one of my earliest teachers.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Springtime means you know what!
It is spring and the world is abloom. In yards and parks, on highways and city streets, flowers, trees and buds are sprouting. Even inside my own ear drum, according to the ENT specialist I went to yesterday, spring has sprung, much to my chagrin. "Mr. Roti", Doctor Dinero opined, " I am sorry to say that you have a condition known as Eustacia Fungalis, or ear mushrooms". Of course I was shocked, embarrassed and suddenly slightly hungry. I shamefully asked what treatement I should follow. The good doctor replied that I should mix garlic and olive oil and pour this combination into each ear, then place my entire head in the oven at 375 degrees for 20 minutes while covered in foil. I now understand why President Obama wants health care reform.
When my therapist, er I mean agent, told me that it was time to get back to blogging, I did not protest. He showed me the survey results for the demographic most likely to read my blog (trailer park inhabitants and prisoners on death row), and the message was clear: for the general good, please join a monestary. But this only encouraged me further to face my destiny head on and create this new post.
When my therapist, er I mean agent, told me that it was time to get back to blogging, I did not protest. He showed me the survey results for the demographic most likely to read my blog (trailer park inhabitants and prisoners on death row), and the message was clear: for the general good, please join a monestary. But this only encouraged me further to face my destiny head on and create this new post.
And, of course, my guiding light is that garden full of basil plants, which teaches me so much. How silly, you may say, for a grown man to be spending time with dainty basil plants, divining the keys to life by gardening. Why isn't he drinking beer and watching sports on cable 24/7 like every other god-fearing American male? Ha, I laugh in the face of such adversity, of such questioning, as I try to figure out the answer. Honestly, if you are truly looking to learn the keys to life, or success, you can do this just about anywhere. Basil plants need to be nurtured, they need to be given a healthy environment, quailty soil to live in. They cannot be neglected, and must be treated with respect. Most slugs and a few squirrels I have met disagree with that, but they also come from a different political party so who cares. Like a child or any human, if they are allowed to live in a posititve place that properly feeds their well being they will thrive. Alove all else, THEY NEED SUN! It helps them grow, makes them strong, makes them rise and gives them great ambition. And to you my faithful reader I ask the same question. What is your sun? The activity that makes you grow, makes you happy, makes you understand why you were put on this God-forsaken "Satellite of Love". It doesn't matter what your Sun is, as long as it "pumps you up" while not hurting others. Reading, writing, running, biking, singing, meditating, knitting, disecting dinosaurs, whatever....Just try to find it and do it as often as possible. What? the basil plant is whispering in my ear....Oh yeah, don't forget the water, because doing all that stuff will make you sweaty, smelly and thirsty.
What the heck, who wrote that drivel above? Dang, you take a Red Bull/Fluffernutter break and you never know who is gong to sit down on your computer and start typing away. But seriously to continue the student teacher motif, they say that "If you say you are not a student, your ego is too large. If you say you are not a teacher, your heart is too small". True, true.
Some recent observations from the world of culture, pet psychiatry and virtual plumbing:
Music: Arcade Fire sounds like a new version of the Talking Heads. Then again, when I stepped on our cat's tail, I thought that sounded like the Talking Heads.
Nutrition/Health: A new clash diet is causing a stir. Listen to "The Clash" (1977) cd while jumping up and down repeatedly for the entire 43 minutes. You are guaranteed to lose at least 2 pounds, and perhaps your sanity.
My Word!- What a difference a T makes. If you add a T to mediate, you have meditate. And if more people meditated, we would need far fewer mediators.
Creativity: Yes sometimes it all comes gushing forth in a stream of consciousness doesn't it, and the thoughts and words, or notes and melodies, or dance steps flow so freely that the stream is a river, or an ocean and you are riding the wave of creativity. But other times the stream is a small leak, or a drip, or even some condensation, worse yet the stream is a desert, the Ethiopian drought. What do you do then? You wait. Dripdripdrip. But don't give up, just keep at it, just write,play,dance,sing and soon the stream will be rushing again. If only I could follow my own advice.
Enjoy the sunshine this week.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Glutton for Punishment- That's Me
Hey there sports fans, I'm back. After my first post, I wondered if there would ever be a second. Sort of like how The Who, The Cars and Counting Crows felt after their debut albums. When you catch lightning in a bottle the first time, there is trepidation about ever living up to the initial glory. So like I just lied, I mean said, I was hesitant. But the overwhelming response from the readership (in my mind/dreams) convinced me that I must go on. So basically, like Frankie, I wanted as few regrets as possible, in the future. But, as Groucho often said "Ah, enough about me". Let me proceed to my newfound purpose, which is..... Oh shoot, now I've forgotten. Oh yeah, an analysis of the psychological state of the country.
1) For as long as I can remember (at least 24 hours), I have never seen a turnaround as far as hope and optimism.Of course, we humans (excluding George Bush's 7th grade English teacher) are optimistic by nature. Regardless, I am struck by the number of people who were truly calmed and encouraged by the inauguration. Although Obama was not my first choice among the original presidential candidates, I now believe that he was truly the best of the possible choices. His serious, yet relaxed, thoughtful, intelligent persona, seems to be exactly what we need. It says something about the depths of distrust that we have been driven to, over the past 8 years. If Obama had simply said, "we are in really bad shape, and I can't fix everything, but I do care about you and I won't lie to you", a large percentage of the country would have said "Wow what an improvement".But of course he promised a lot more, so let's see how he does.
2) #1 was so long and taxing, I think the psychology of the nation (at least those reading this blog) may have changed already. Damn, sorry Obama, didn't mean to undue 2 years of work in one painfully maudlin, presumptuous paragraph.
Ok on to more important items such as what my new occupation will be should I fall victim to the financial crisis and don't receive a bailout:
1) Insect Photographer: stupid you may say, but many phylum or genuses (what do these words mean?) Of insects have queens right? Bees, Ants, Termites. Maybe they have Kings too, and by extension Homecoming Queens and prom Kings and Queens. Most likely these miniature social events have never been filmed, until now by you know who.
2) Shoe department Juggler: yes I see much of my readership slapping their forehead, saying "How did I never think of this". Don't bother I already have the patent. Men go with their wives to the shoe department with good intentions, but after 20 minutes of boredom yearn for a distraction, anything, but there are none. Sadly this can lead to marital friction, harsh words, and even death in the case of particularly annoying shoe salesmen. An entertaining distraction is obviously needed. Inject a witty, talented multi-lingual juggler who has also worked as a prison guard and the whole dynamic changes.
My goodness, a thousand pardons I ask upon your wrinkled foreheads for taking up so much of your time.To think I was just looking for a momentary distraction, here in the Lord and Taylor shoe department. Next time: the spiritual value of nurturing basil plant seedlings.
1) For as long as I can remember (at least 24 hours), I have never seen a turnaround as far as hope and optimism.Of course, we humans (excluding George Bush's 7th grade English teacher) are optimistic by nature. Regardless, I am struck by the number of people who were truly calmed and encouraged by the inauguration. Although Obama was not my first choice among the original presidential candidates, I now believe that he was truly the best of the possible choices. His serious, yet relaxed, thoughtful, intelligent persona, seems to be exactly what we need. It says something about the depths of distrust that we have been driven to, over the past 8 years. If Obama had simply said, "we are in really bad shape, and I can't fix everything, but I do care about you and I won't lie to you", a large percentage of the country would have said "Wow what an improvement".But of course he promised a lot more, so let's see how he does.
2) #1 was so long and taxing, I think the psychology of the nation (at least those reading this blog) may have changed already. Damn, sorry Obama, didn't mean to undue 2 years of work in one painfully maudlin, presumptuous paragraph.
Ok on to more important items such as what my new occupation will be should I fall victim to the financial crisis and don't receive a bailout:
1) Insect Photographer: stupid you may say, but many phylum or genuses (what do these words mean?) Of insects have queens right? Bees, Ants, Termites. Maybe they have Kings too, and by extension Homecoming Queens and prom Kings and Queens. Most likely these miniature social events have never been filmed, until now by you know who.
2) Shoe department Juggler: yes I see much of my readership slapping their forehead, saying "How did I never think of this". Don't bother I already have the patent. Men go with their wives to the shoe department with good intentions, but after 20 minutes of boredom yearn for a distraction, anything, but there are none. Sadly this can lead to marital friction, harsh words, and even death in the case of particularly annoying shoe salesmen. An entertaining distraction is obviously needed. Inject a witty, talented multi-lingual juggler who has also worked as a prison guard and the whole dynamic changes.
My goodness, a thousand pardons I ask upon your wrinkled foreheads for taking up so much of your time.To think I was just looking for a momentary distraction, here in the Lord and Taylor shoe department. Next time: the spiritual value of nurturing basil plant seedlings.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Hey I'm new to this blogging stuff so what do I know, I created a blog whose title is going to make people say "huh?". Wake up and smell the coffee is probably the proper term, but that is so boring and rooted in the past. Now Basil, that is perhaps the best smell in the universe, or at least on earth. Fresh, sweet, pure, alive. But before I start confusing people other than myself, I must qualify that I mean fresh basil leaves preferably still on the plant. Yes, you guessed it, each leaf is a perfect bit of cologne or perfume suitable for use when going to the movies, dinner or even a funeral/cremation. Maybe a bit too far there, but you get the picture. Enough, more on the Basil link later.
Despite being a supreme optimist, there are just so many "challenges" (sickening euphemism) that we face right now, this second.
1) It is cold! and that stifles lots of stuff, like blood flow, rational thought and outdoor activities (biking, walking, petty larceny, etc.) It also makes life miserable for birds (why are they not flying south anymore?) and stray cats (there's my plug for you Linda.)
2) Next atrocity (enough with the PC euphemisms) is that my Giants lost to the hated Eagles. Let's just leave it at that to avoid sobbing, foaming at the mouth and a middle age hissy fit on my part, which would not be pretty.
3) Just the general financial wreck and total lack of trust between the common man and financial institutions and government. Yes so many people out of work, but also the millionaire scammers (Madoff, CEO's, Politicians etc).
There I said it, and boy do I feel better, maybe. At any rate, someone please remind me about the multitude of good things that happen every day that we may take for granted. Too many to mention, but yeah you do need to wake up and smell the basil. Until the next post, which should happen, unless I re-read this and base continuing to blog on the quality of the first. Keep the Faith.
Despite being a supreme optimist, there are just so many "challenges" (sickening euphemism) that we face right now, this second.
1) It is cold! and that stifles lots of stuff, like blood flow, rational thought and outdoor activities (biking, walking, petty larceny, etc.) It also makes life miserable for birds (why are they not flying south anymore?) and stray cats (there's my plug for you Linda.)
2) Next atrocity (enough with the PC euphemisms) is that my Giants lost to the hated Eagles. Let's just leave it at that to avoid sobbing, foaming at the mouth and a middle age hissy fit on my part, which would not be pretty.
3) Just the general financial wreck and total lack of trust between the common man and financial institutions and government. Yes so many people out of work, but also the millionaire scammers (Madoff, CEO's, Politicians etc).
There I said it, and boy do I feel better, maybe. At any rate, someone please remind me about the multitude of good things that happen every day that we may take for granted. Too many to mention, but yeah you do need to wake up and smell the basil. Until the next post, which should happen, unless I re-read this and base continuing to blog on the quality of the first. Keep the Faith.
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