The Clash song stated that "London's burning with boredome now". I am sure that, at the time, those lyrics had relevance and truly reflected the political and social climate that many Londoners were living in. But the London that we experienced the past two weeks was simply glorious, vibrant, fascinating and just darn fun. Although London was not burning, the Icelandic volcano was, so our visit was extended an extra week. Much as a person's life or a broadway play is separated into sections based on time and theme, our London visit was neatly divided into 4 distinct acts, which I shall now describe and analyze for my rapt audience of ...hmmm, perhaps for myself.
Arrival at the Thames: Linda and I arrived in Canary Wharf with a flourish. After taking the tube, several willing locals proceeded to give us wildly innacurate directions, turning our 10 minute walk to "The Curve" Marriot Hotel into a 30 minute Odyssey. The many foot bridges crossing the Thames were quite fun, the wind gusts reaching a strength sufficient to take small children and my Yankees hat into the upper atmosphere. Learned that doing business in London consists mostly of saying "brilliant", "right", "well done" and wearing pink shirts.
Pilgrimmage to Bloomsbury: Work done, on to the vacation, as we check into the Euston Hilton. We got to hang with K and hit the pubs, ah the Guinness! After a few days of perfect weather and more pubs we realize every pub has the same menu and....ah the Guinness! A great restaurant in Angel, some Italian on Goodge street with Kaila and Alan and, wait, what was that sound? I think an Icelandic volcano just erupted!
Old Home Week at the Arran House: Volcanic ash is coming ,you are being held hostage by Mother Nature in a foreign country, and you can't go home. What to do? Go to the Arran House of course!
The Bed and Breakfast is a staple of the Roti family and friends: Kaila, Kristin (twice), Casey and we (twice) have stayed for a righteous price (85 pounds for a double, which usually turns out to be a triple or a quadruple). Full (overfull) English breakfast, about 10 communal bathrooms for the adventurous (no en suite for you!), in a location near it all. Like staying at your Aunt's house.
All Rise, the Roti's have arrived at Hotel Russell: So all of England is daft, and those in power have closed the airports. Which means I am commuting by tube from Arran House to Canary Wharf. Right, a bit of a walk to the tube eh? Linda walked me to the tube that morning, across from beautiful Russell Square and the historic Hotel Russell. "Wouldn't it be nice to stay here?" Linda inquired, and before I knew it we were booked at the Russell for 20 pounds below the standard price, in an upgraded room with a view of the park and breakfast included. How ever does Linda do it? A week of pink shirts for me, heavenly weather, palacial accomodations in the cultural hub, what could be better? The insightful CEO of Brittish Air on Sky News suggests that the airlines all going bankrupt is a bad thing, and the next day the airspace is opened. Right, brilliant. Bittersweet. Goodbye Hotel Russell, goodbye London, goodbye Kaila, see you soon Kris.
Wow that was fun. So what did Linda and I learn from our 2 week adventure? Next post.
Keep the Faith
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Saturday, March 27, 2010
The Beach
The beach is a place where a man can feel
He's the only soul in the world that's real. - Pete Townshend
Wow, we went to the beach on Sunday and it was worth it. Despite having 2 lifetimes worth of stuff to do on Sunday, Linda and I decided to go, given the awesome weather. It was a glorious event, we walked for over an hour, and found some categories of shells that I have never seen in person or prison, on Nature, or in my dreams. There are many aspects of the beach that make it essential, and of course we will analyze them now ad nauseum.
The Air: 'Tis a bit more windy at the beach, and the briny air fills your lungs and makes you feel alive. The whole experience heightens your awareness and relaxes you, therefore I think we breathe more easlily.
The Water: Yes our most ancient ancestors millions of years ago swam out of the sea and put their fins on terra firma and the rest is history. Oops sorry creationists. Perhaps this is why we have such an instinctive connection to water in general, and learn things from it like Siddhartha.
The Sound: Oh the sound of waves crashing on the beach, and kids far away screaming as they are engulfed, dragged out and die. The rhythm, somehow tied to the moon (not Keith, well maybe in Quadrophenia it was ), I am sure connects with our own internal rhythm and soothes, hypnotizes, and teaches us lessons from eons ago.
The Sand: The feeling of warm sand on your feet is one of those feelings that defies description. Running on the beach barefoot feels so natural, and running at the base of the water seems to electrify your cardio system and give you energy.
The Smell: The smell of the salt air permeates one's senses, and I can smell the mustard on that brat's third hot dog. "Mom I wanted Dr. Pepper, not Coke. Take it back!" Smack!
Here by the sea and sand
Nothing ever goes as planned. - Pete Townshend
As a teenager where else could you sleep all night and not get bothered? The beach.
As a kid growing up in New Jersey, "The Shore" was pretty much the only place we went on vacation.
And now, we are so lucky to live just 15 minutes away.
In conclusion I will say that as a teenager, everything seemed possible in life, while listening to the waves crash on the shore. Now that I am about halfway done (50 years old), I can say that life makes more sense, and the past seems kinder, and the future brighter "at the beach".
Some nights I still sleep on the beach
Remember when stars were in reach. -Pete Townshend
Keep the Faith y'all !
He's the only soul in the world that's real. - Pete Townshend
Wow, we went to the beach on Sunday and it was worth it. Despite having 2 lifetimes worth of stuff to do on Sunday, Linda and I decided to go, given the awesome weather. It was a glorious event, we walked for over an hour, and found some categories of shells that I have never seen in person or prison, on Nature, or in my dreams. There are many aspects of the beach that make it essential, and of course we will analyze them now ad nauseum.
The Air: 'Tis a bit more windy at the beach, and the briny air fills your lungs and makes you feel alive. The whole experience heightens your awareness and relaxes you, therefore I think we breathe more easlily.
The Water: Yes our most ancient ancestors millions of years ago swam out of the sea and put their fins on terra firma and the rest is history. Oops sorry creationists. Perhaps this is why we have such an instinctive connection to water in general, and learn things from it like Siddhartha.
The Sound: Oh the sound of waves crashing on the beach, and kids far away screaming as they are engulfed, dragged out and die. The rhythm, somehow tied to the moon (not Keith, well maybe in Quadrophenia it was ), I am sure connects with our own internal rhythm and soothes, hypnotizes, and teaches us lessons from eons ago.
The Sand: The feeling of warm sand on your feet is one of those feelings that defies description. Running on the beach barefoot feels so natural, and running at the base of the water seems to electrify your cardio system and give you energy.
The Smell: The smell of the salt air permeates one's senses, and I can smell the mustard on that brat's third hot dog. "Mom I wanted Dr. Pepper, not Coke. Take it back!" Smack!
Here by the sea and sand
Nothing ever goes as planned. - Pete Townshend
As a teenager where else could you sleep all night and not get bothered? The beach.
As a kid growing up in New Jersey, "The Shore" was pretty much the only place we went on vacation.
And now, we are so lucky to live just 15 minutes away.
In conclusion I will say that as a teenager, everything seemed possible in life, while listening to the waves crash on the shore. Now that I am about halfway done (50 years old), I can say that life makes more sense, and the past seems kinder, and the future brighter "at the beach".
Some nights I still sleep on the beach
Remember when stars were in reach. -Pete Townshend
Keep the Faith y'all !
Friday, March 5, 2010
Spring Where are You?
Please don't fret New Yorkers, it won't be long now. The snow and freezing conditions will soon give way to warmer weather and rain and mud. Don't you feel better now? Seriously this has been a trying winter, but this time of year is exciting. Why? Because it is filled with promise and expectation. Spring literally signifies life in terms of the growing season, and for me mentally, it is also a new beginning. Although the calendar starts in January, life as we know it begins with Spring. We start to venture out of our house with regularity, encounter neighbors who ignore us, and realize that in fact there's a lot more seeding to be done than we had hoped.
So in honor of Stravinsky's "le Sacre du Printemps" I present "The Rites of Spring":
1) Biking: It all starts here with abbreviated rides that still prove to me that I am out of shape. I will miss Al, who still needs some fixing, but I have my new young JeeP mountain bike, who likes to be addressed as "JP".
2) Cleaning the garage: Hard to believe how much stuff can accumulate over the winter, but a good Spring cleaning heals all wounds and provides "gumption" leading to many other tasks that cause severe thirst necessitating a cold beer while sitting on your open truck bed door.
3) Cleaning the shed: Yes this is an annual favorite, providing yet more gumption and the knowledge that various animals have been living in very same shed.
4) Lawn Seeding: this is actually an Olympic event in certain Westchester suburbs, but only for illegal aliens, usually of Mexican descent. Ah yes, did I not say that Spring represents "hope", in the expectation of a luxurious carpet of grass, which during that first seeding seems like such a sure bet. Our hopes are fulfilled as the green blades emerge, only to be dashed by that damn landscaper who won't stop trimming until he hits paydirt.
5) The Beach: As a kid growing up so far from "the Shore" the ocean has always represented life, magic and hope for me. Of course since we now live 10 minutes away, we never go. This is one of the rites I will not compromise on, as Linda and I will be headed to the ocean at the first sign of 55 degrees.
Could this possibly be the total list, my avid readership asks, is something not amiss? Of course with spring the cycle of life and knowledge begins again. My appenticeship begins anew, and I empty my cup, becoming the clean slate upon which my Basil teachers will write their lessons. It is a dilemma, this hibernation that occurs with the latter seasons. I have forgotten so much that they had taught me, but by their absence they have forced me to live and learn on my own.
Hopefully by this post finds you all ready to welcome Spring and all of the surprises, challenges, mystery and wonder that this season of life will bring. One morning soon I will awake to the sound of that bird just outside my bedroom window and I will know that Spring has sprung.
Keep the Faith!
So in honor of Stravinsky's "le Sacre du Printemps" I present "The Rites of Spring":
1) Biking: It all starts here with abbreviated rides that still prove to me that I am out of shape. I will miss Al, who still needs some fixing, but I have my new young JeeP mountain bike, who likes to be addressed as "JP".
2) Cleaning the garage: Hard to believe how much stuff can accumulate over the winter, but a good Spring cleaning heals all wounds and provides "gumption" leading to many other tasks that cause severe thirst necessitating a cold beer while sitting on your open truck bed door.
3) Cleaning the shed: Yes this is an annual favorite, providing yet more gumption and the knowledge that various animals have been living in very same shed.
4) Lawn Seeding: this is actually an Olympic event in certain Westchester suburbs, but only for illegal aliens, usually of Mexican descent. Ah yes, did I not say that Spring represents "hope", in the expectation of a luxurious carpet of grass, which during that first seeding seems like such a sure bet. Our hopes are fulfilled as the green blades emerge, only to be dashed by that damn landscaper who won't stop trimming until he hits paydirt.
5) The Beach: As a kid growing up so far from "the Shore" the ocean has always represented life, magic and hope for me. Of course since we now live 10 minutes away, we never go. This is one of the rites I will not compromise on, as Linda and I will be headed to the ocean at the first sign of 55 degrees.
Could this possibly be the total list, my avid readership asks, is something not amiss? Of course with spring the cycle of life and knowledge begins again. My appenticeship begins anew, and I empty my cup, becoming the clean slate upon which my Basil teachers will write their lessons. It is a dilemma, this hibernation that occurs with the latter seasons. I have forgotten so much that they had taught me, but by their absence they have forced me to live and learn on my own.
Hopefully by this post finds you all ready to welcome Spring and all of the surprises, challenges, mystery and wonder that this season of life will bring. One morning soon I will awake to the sound of that bird just outside my bedroom window and I will know that Spring has sprung.
Keep the Faith!
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Schizophrenic? I'm a bleeding Quadrophenic!
Yes that silly quote is from the Quadrophenia album by The Who. The main character of this "Rock Opera" was Jimmy, who at different times personified 4 different personalities, each associated with one of the band members of The Who. As Kristin and Kaila are currently in London, I thought it relevant to mention this amazing story of a young lad in 1960's London who is torn between being a Mod and a Rocker, and whose life is complicated by alcohol and drugs (leapers), difficulty with the opposite sex, parents who both drink and fight too much, and seeing his hero sell out to "the establishment". An incredible work of songwriting and music, the movie version starring Sting as the leader of the Mod's is an incredible period piece. Timeless, as they say, the general story being just as relevant today, and told hundreds of times in various forms. Enough rot about the bloody UK! You allright?
You are your Ipod: Can one really learn all there is to know about you simply by discerning what mp3 player you use? OK, yes if you are still using a Walkman, be it tape or CD, we know you are either a refugee from a culture that uses time machines or live in a third world nation. But otherwise, whether it is Zune, Iriver or Ipod, really your total personality does sit on the other end of those earbuds. For example I am using the Ipod shuffle that Kris gave me a few years ago and it is so me. I never have a clue what song is next, the music is of all different types, and occassionally a song comes on that I have never heard. What mystery and chaos. Oh boy is that my life! Linda will readily admit that I am very disorganized, proceed in random directions, do not have a specific plan for the next moment, no less my life, and often seem totally surprised by things that have been occurring in my life for decades. What music machine do you use, and does it represent your psyche?
To 10cc with Love: We watched the classic movie "To Sir with Love" the other night and it was awesome. I have seen it 5 times at least but this time with no commerials! I am going for the record today of most exclamation points used in a blog! There's another one! and another! aaaagggggghhhhh. Whew, punctuation gets me riled up. Ayway if I were to change my saintly habits and wind up in hell, I think that's what it would be, endless commercials. Back to the movie, yes it was awesome but the amzing thing is that at the end during the party where Lulu (the singer not Norton's dog) sings to Sidney Portier, there is a band of mod looking Brittish guys. They sounded familiar so of course I went to Wikipedia. They were "The Mindbenders" and they had 2 very big hits with "Game of Love" and "Groovy Kind of Love". BTW what's with the UK theme, oh yeah Kay and Kris are in London, forgot. You allright? Anyway Eric Stewart was one of the original Mindbenders and Graham Gouldman joined in 1968 or so. They later teamed up with Lol Creme and Kevin Godley to form 10cc, a fairly major band of my youth. Yes we, they and you are all connected.
The Dimensions: Yes time, space and our minds and souls connect us all. This helps in a few ways. No matter how low or high anyone feels, they are never alone. Never. And two, whenever we need help or want to collaborate in a creative or spiritual way, we can reach out across several different dimensions to friends, family, loved ones (alive or dead), forest animals (alive or roadkill), former teachers, janitors, reptiles, insects, origami instructors and unemployed talk show hosts. If you can find the answer you're looking for from this diverse group, it doesn't exist.
Truthful Rex: Rex Ryan, the coach of the Jets is my hero. He is upbeat, honest, loyal, emotional and funny. Other than the fact that he is rather obese, I want to be just like him. Should the Jets win tomorrow, he becomes The King of New York. Go Jets!
New Year?: For how long can I continue to greet people with Happy New Year!? If I am seeing a friend or co-worker for the first time since Jan. 1, I have been using that slogan. When does it become too late? By the upturned eyebrows I am seeing from my readership, I would say it's time to stop. Glad I asked as I had marked June 1 on my calendar.
Happy New Year! and Keep the Faith!
You are your Ipod: Can one really learn all there is to know about you simply by discerning what mp3 player you use? OK, yes if you are still using a Walkman, be it tape or CD, we know you are either a refugee from a culture that uses time machines or live in a third world nation. But otherwise, whether it is Zune, Iriver or Ipod, really your total personality does sit on the other end of those earbuds. For example I am using the Ipod shuffle that Kris gave me a few years ago and it is so me. I never have a clue what song is next, the music is of all different types, and occassionally a song comes on that I have never heard. What mystery and chaos. Oh boy is that my life! Linda will readily admit that I am very disorganized, proceed in random directions, do not have a specific plan for the next moment, no less my life, and often seem totally surprised by things that have been occurring in my life for decades. What music machine do you use, and does it represent your psyche?
To 10cc with Love: We watched the classic movie "To Sir with Love" the other night and it was awesome. I have seen it 5 times at least but this time with no commerials! I am going for the record today of most exclamation points used in a blog! There's another one! and another! aaaagggggghhhhh. Whew, punctuation gets me riled up. Ayway if I were to change my saintly habits and wind up in hell, I think that's what it would be, endless commercials. Back to the movie, yes it was awesome but the amzing thing is that at the end during the party where Lulu (the singer not Norton's dog) sings to Sidney Portier, there is a band of mod looking Brittish guys. They sounded familiar so of course I went to Wikipedia. They were "The Mindbenders" and they had 2 very big hits with "Game of Love" and "Groovy Kind of Love". BTW what's with the UK theme, oh yeah Kay and Kris are in London, forgot. You allright? Anyway Eric Stewart was one of the original Mindbenders and Graham Gouldman joined in 1968 or so. They later teamed up with Lol Creme and Kevin Godley to form 10cc, a fairly major band of my youth. Yes we, they and you are all connected.
The Dimensions: Yes time, space and our minds and souls connect us all. This helps in a few ways. No matter how low or high anyone feels, they are never alone. Never. And two, whenever we need help or want to collaborate in a creative or spiritual way, we can reach out across several different dimensions to friends, family, loved ones (alive or dead), forest animals (alive or roadkill), former teachers, janitors, reptiles, insects, origami instructors and unemployed talk show hosts. If you can find the answer you're looking for from this diverse group, it doesn't exist.
Truthful Rex: Rex Ryan, the coach of the Jets is my hero. He is upbeat, honest, loyal, emotional and funny. Other than the fact that he is rather obese, I want to be just like him. Should the Jets win tomorrow, he becomes The King of New York. Go Jets!
New Year?: For how long can I continue to greet people with Happy New Year!? If I am seeing a friend or co-worker for the first time since Jan. 1, I have been using that slogan. When does it become too late? By the upturned eyebrows I am seeing from my readership, I would say it's time to stop. Glad I asked as I had marked June 1 on my calendar.
Happy New Year! and Keep the Faith!
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
It's a New Year and My Resolutions are Coming
Wow, it's 2010 and I feel so much better already. Not sure if it's because I can now distance myself from all the mistakes I made in 2009, or just that I drank too much wine last night. At any rate January is the month where I make a genuine effort to come up with important resolutions that are forgotten by February. This is such a cathartic process that I encourage all of you to do the same. Not in any particular order and accompanied by the stream of consciousness that each absurd resolution evokes:
1) I will not cut my hair! I don't mean never even get a trim, but that I will keep my hair long in general even though it looks even more gray and Kristin refers to it as a "semitic fro". On this topic please see the David Crosby song "Almost cut my Hair" from the CSNY "Deja Vu" album and "Cut My Hair" from the Who's Quadrophenia disc. Oh yeah you have the song "Hair" from the play "Hair" (I think) but that's not my cup of tea.
2) Get in Shape Fat Boy! Hey easy, self, that's not really necessary, but Oh yeah I get it, sort of the boot camp motivational "suck it up plebe" motif. "Yes Sir!" I am ready and I really need to make this happen. 50 now, 50% of the way there, perhaps the most important aspect of one's quality of life. Helps to maintain sanity and keeps one from going daft, greatest stress reliever this side of yodeling.
3) Save the world, please. Really I am so bad in this regard, in a selfish way. We are too lucky, living a relatively easy, comfortable life. Soldiers, homeless, Mets fans, hungry kids are way worse off and perhaps we can make their life a bit easier by devoting a little time, money or compassion to them. I am sure we will find that it helps us out a heap as well. In addition, become more ecologically aware and sensitive. I am officially cancelling my plans to have our house sided with styrofoam.
4) Write more posts you lazy lard bottom! Yes I swear I will do this no matter how painful it is to the scores of people forced to read and comment on them.
5) May Laughter Reign- Yes this is another key to health and long living. There are so many serious things going on in our lives and the world. It is very easy to be too serious, and too negative. All the more reason for stupid, witty, absurd, disgusting, immature and silly jokes. Laughing keeps you young and is also good for the abs. Laugh long and hard, except when you are at piano recitals, funerals, or when you are being scolded by your parent, spouse or boss. Actually, cancel that last sentence, just laugh!
6) The Arts, not the Farts- the true sign of an advanced society is the quality of their technolgy and their art. Art, be it painting, singing, TV, film, sculpture, writing, cooking, allows us to be who we are, and connect with our soul. Throughout the years, cultures have believed one of the best ways to honor their God is to create great art. So expose yourself to it, enjoy it, and create it. Truly Zen is "in the art of...."
Got to take care of that hyper-flatulence too.
7) Be more / less sensitive- Yes society, the media and interacting with other self-important idiots like me makes everyone sensitive to criticism. Be it criticism of ourselves, our kids, our cars, our pets or our neckwear, in general we are too sensitive. Do you care that someone cut you off on the way to the starbucks drive-through, or moved in front of you on the line to pay your late fee at the library? Just think Iraq. As in you are not there risking your life, so thank God, shut up and smile. On the other hand, we all need to be more sensitive to each other, our spouse, kids, old people and animals. Get tough on yourself, but be kind to others. They need it more than you anyway, admit it.
8) More spirituality- I know I need this, and it probably would not hurt most people. It may pertain to religion, it may not. Bottom line, connect with who you are, and who created you. It may be God, Yahweh, Allah, Mother Earth or simply the Universe. Take time each day to realize that there is a force greater than you that can fix things no matter how bad they seem, and comfort you when you feel you are alone. Don't forget to give props and pay back to "The Force" of "The Lord" in the best way you know how. If you need stuff, this is where to go too, sort of like your parents when you need cash or a ride.
Please note certain of these 10 go together. 3,7,8 are the Holy Trinity, and 4 and 6 pertain to each other, although it is a stretch to say that my posts are art. 2 and 5 for me work well, because the better shape I am in the more I laugh, and remember that laughter works the abs.
At any rate, the key is to make 2010 the best year it can be. For yourself, family and friends, and even that idiot who just spilled coffee on my Newsday. Matt, remember #7. Who, Mickey Mantle? Oh yeah, right.
"Oh sure sir, that seat is open, let me move my bag, no that is no problem at all, Hazelnut coffee matches perfectly with my tie. Oh here let me get that for you, you dropped your turben".
Keep the Faith y'all.
1) I will not cut my hair! I don't mean never even get a trim, but that I will keep my hair long in general even though it looks even more gray and Kristin refers to it as a "semitic fro". On this topic please see the David Crosby song "Almost cut my Hair" from the CSNY "Deja Vu" album and "Cut My Hair" from the Who's Quadrophenia disc. Oh yeah you have the song "Hair" from the play "Hair" (I think) but that's not my cup of tea.
2) Get in Shape Fat Boy! Hey easy, self, that's not really necessary, but Oh yeah I get it, sort of the boot camp motivational "suck it up plebe" motif. "Yes Sir!" I am ready and I really need to make this happen. 50 now, 50% of the way there, perhaps the most important aspect of one's quality of life. Helps to maintain sanity and keeps one from going daft, greatest stress reliever this side of yodeling.
3) Save the world, please. Really I am so bad in this regard, in a selfish way. We are too lucky, living a relatively easy, comfortable life. Soldiers, homeless, Mets fans, hungry kids are way worse off and perhaps we can make their life a bit easier by devoting a little time, money or compassion to them. I am sure we will find that it helps us out a heap as well. In addition, become more ecologically aware and sensitive. I am officially cancelling my plans to have our house sided with styrofoam.
4) Write more posts you lazy lard bottom! Yes I swear I will do this no matter how painful it is to the scores of people forced to read and comment on them.
5) May Laughter Reign- Yes this is another key to health and long living. There are so many serious things going on in our lives and the world. It is very easy to be too serious, and too negative. All the more reason for stupid, witty, absurd, disgusting, immature and silly jokes. Laughing keeps you young and is also good for the abs. Laugh long and hard, except when you are at piano recitals, funerals, or when you are being scolded by your parent, spouse or boss. Actually, cancel that last sentence, just laugh!
6) The Arts, not the Farts- the true sign of an advanced society is the quality of their technolgy and their art. Art, be it painting, singing, TV, film, sculpture, writing, cooking, allows us to be who we are, and connect with our soul. Throughout the years, cultures have believed one of the best ways to honor their God is to create great art. So expose yourself to it, enjoy it, and create it. Truly Zen is "in the art of...."
Got to take care of that hyper-flatulence too.
7) Be more / less sensitive- Yes society, the media and interacting with other self-important idiots like me makes everyone sensitive to criticism. Be it criticism of ourselves, our kids, our cars, our pets or our neckwear, in general we are too sensitive. Do you care that someone cut you off on the way to the starbucks drive-through, or moved in front of you on the line to pay your late fee at the library? Just think Iraq. As in you are not there risking your life, so thank God, shut up and smile. On the other hand, we all need to be more sensitive to each other, our spouse, kids, old people and animals. Get tough on yourself, but be kind to others. They need it more than you anyway, admit it.
8) More spirituality- I know I need this, and it probably would not hurt most people. It may pertain to religion, it may not. Bottom line, connect with who you are, and who created you. It may be God, Yahweh, Allah, Mother Earth or simply the Universe. Take time each day to realize that there is a force greater than you that can fix things no matter how bad they seem, and comfort you when you feel you are alone. Don't forget to give props and pay back to "The Force" of "The Lord" in the best way you know how. If you need stuff, this is where to go too, sort of like your parents when you need cash or a ride.
Please note certain of these 10 go together. 3,7,8 are the Holy Trinity, and 4 and 6 pertain to each other, although it is a stretch to say that my posts are art. 2 and 5 for me work well, because the better shape I am in the more I laugh, and remember that laughter works the abs.
At any rate, the key is to make 2010 the best year it can be. For yourself, family and friends, and even that idiot who just spilled coffee on my Newsday. Matt, remember #7. Who, Mickey Mantle? Oh yeah, right.
"Oh sure sir, that seat is open, let me move my bag, no that is no problem at all, Hazelnut coffee matches perfectly with my tie. Oh here let me get that for you, you dropped your turben".
Keep the Faith y'all.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Sorry Al, but It's Over
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.
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.
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!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)