If you love dogs, read this. If you don't love dogs, read this anyway.
The following is taken from a speech given as closing arguments by George Graham Vest, attorney for Charles Burden whose dog was on trial for killing sheep, according to a movie. The speech was taken from the movie, “The Trial of Old Drum”, where Scott Bakula played the role of Vest. According to other web sites from Warrensburg, MO, the trial wasn’t over sheep, but rather where Burden’s dog, Drum, was shot and killed by a neighboring landowner who suspected that the dog had killed sheep. The ensuing trial was a result of Burden suing that neighbor, Leonidas Hornsby, for damages. There may have been some changes in the actual speech, since the web site I found also published the speech, but it appears a little differently, though not in content, only in some of the wording. George Vest was elected to the Senate about a year later. He was known as quite the orator. Given this speech, it is no mystery how he earned that reputation. Outside the courthouse in Warrensburg, MO, is a statue of Old Drum, paying tribute to the heroic dog that endured a trial. According to the movie, these events transpired in 1955. The web site cites this happened in 1870. The movie does provide an acknowledgment that this event occurred in the 19th century. For anyone that searches the Internet for related stories will find numerous accounts, all essentially the same story, but with a small variety of detail. Without further adieu, George Graham Vest’s “Eulogy to The Dog”.
"The best friend a man has in this world may turn against him and become his worst enemy. His son or his daughter who he has raised with loving care may prove ungrateful. Those who we trust with our happiness, our good name, may become traitors to us. People who are prone to fall on their knees to do us honor when success is with us are often the first to throw the stones of malice when failure settles its cloud on our heads. But the one absolutely unselfish friend that you can have in this selfish world, the one who will never desert you, the one who never proves ungrateful or treacherous, is your dog. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, he is your best friend in prosperity and in poverty, in health and in sickness, he will sleep on a cold ground where wintry winds blow and snows drive fiercely, if only to be at his masters side. He kisses the hand that offers him no food. He licks the wounds and sores that come and encounter us with the roughness of the world. He guards the sleep of his pauper master as if he were a prince. And when all other friends depart, he remains. If fortune sends his master forth, an outcast in the world, friendless and homeless, the faithful dog has no higher privilege than that of accompanying him, to guard against danger, to fight against his enemies. And when the last scene of all comes and death takes his master in its embrace and his body is laid away in the cold ground, no matter if all other friends pursue their way, there by his graveside will the noble dog be found. His head between his paws, his eyes, sad but open in alert watchfulness, faithful and true even to death."
Ours is the age that is proud of machines that think and suspicious of men who try to. -H. Mumford Jones
When one tugs at a single thing in nature, he finds it attached to the rest of the world. -John Muir
Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work. -Thomas A. Edison
Human beings, who are almost unique in having the ability to learn from the experience of others, are also remarkable for their apparent disinclination to do so. -Douglas Adams
We judge ourselves by what we feel capable of doing, while others judge us by what we have already done. -Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Believe those who are seeking the truth. Doubt those who find it. -Andre Gide
Fortune does not change men, it unmasks them. -Suzanne Necker
The reasonable man adapts himself to the world; the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man. -George Bernard Shaw
What luck for rulers that men do not think. -Adolf Hitler
Have the courage to be ignorant of a great number of things, in order to avoid the calamity of being ignorant of everything. -Sydney Smith
Life is what happens between moments. -me
The greatest of faults, I should say, is to be conscious of none. -Thomas Carlyle
The reason grandparents and grandchildren get along so well is because they have a common enemy. -Sam Levenson
It is far more impressive when others discover your good qualities without your help. -Judith Martin
Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding about ourselves. -Carl Jung
Try not to become a man of success, but rather try to become a man of value. -Albert Einstein
Dignity does not consist in possessing honors, but in deserving them. -Aristotle
The fact that man knows right from wrong proves his intellectual superiority to other creatures; but the fact that he can do wrong proves his moral inferiority to any creature that cannot. -Mark Twain
Children are a side effect of sex.
Don't go around saying the world owes you a living. The world owes you nothing. It was here first. -Mark Twain
The aim of education should be to teach the child to think, not what to think. -John Dewey
Here be the pages for my creative tale-telling.
Do you fancy a tale of mischevious imps or perhaps a stewing story of intrigue brewing in the cauldron of deceit? Who knows what words will unroll as you scroll through my gests.
The question is, will you return for more?
Welcome to the Scrolling Gest.
It could have been worse, but hardly more memorable. Xmas Eve and my Brother-In-Law & I decide to chop down a tree. But it wasn't for the sake of our manhoods... rather out of perceived necessity.
You see, I'm in NC. If you have been paying attention, then you knew this already. And if you passed middle school Social Studies, then you can surmise that there are lots of pine trees in NC. Then you can take it one step further and infer that people would be living in close proximity to at least one pine tree.
In this case.... there were 3 in the back yard. One was struck by lightening. Ali, my Brother-in-law, said the tree was dead and had to be cut down. Naturally, me being a wood chopping kind of guy, was all too happy to help. So I go through the list of things we need to do this safely and successfully.
Chain saw ....................check
Goggles .........................no...?? Ok then... moving on
Gloves ..........................no...?? Of course not. What was I thinking? Because I really love bubbles under my epidermis!
Wedge ..........................check (at least something)
Rope ............................What... no rope? Am I really surprised?
Axe ............................ A camp axe...? Are you serious? (sigh)
Mallet .........................Finally... a manly tool!
Ok then. Lets get started. We plan the demise of the ill-fated, Zeus-targeted pine tree. Yeah, it should fall right about here.
Ali heads to the garage to bring out the chain saw. Now we are in business! I start clearing the yard for the felling path. There's something about cutting wood that makes me feel all manly! (Oh shut-up!)
Ali is on his way back and pulls the chain saw out of the box.... uh.... dude.... "You're kidding, right?" I thought. The first thing I see is a plug. Bad sign. Next emerges the grip and trigger followed by a 16" bar with a dull chain. This ain't a chain saw, man..... its a glorified hedge trimmer! I foresee manual labor.
Ali is rather proud of this chain saw. Ok... if he insists. So he starts cutting into the tree. I whistle trying to stop him. I thought I might tell him to start cutting from the back first so if the tree should fall prematurely, it would fall the way we wanted to. But he was quite into the cutting so I just watched. He worked his way about half way through. He pulled out the saw (if you want to call it that) and started on the angle for the wedge. About a quarter of the way through the chain saw quits. Oh dear... I never saw that coming!
After about an hour of tinkering w/ it, Ali discovered that the teeth (plastic, mind you) were all stripped away from the fly wheel. So the gears (metal) were spinning freely. I was afraid to look to see where the chain saw was made. You're probably thinking it too.
While he was messing with that I proceeded to start cutting with a hand saw. Imaging this for a second.... Ali is a carpenter and didn't even have a reciprocating saw. (well, not available, anyway) Sheesh. And I can really see myself cutting down a 40 foot pine tree w/ a camp axe! So I used the axe as a wedge and started whacking it with the maul. The axe was fully embedded but the tree wasn't moving.
So Ali starts plans to cut some more wedges so we can hammer them in one at a time and force the tree over. So while he's getting that ready I continue with the hand saw. It was right about this time that the Wind Gods decide to amuse themselves with a little game of Let's see what happens when ....." Ok, so I'm sawing away and making good progress. I figure the tree will fall after the 1st wedge or two are driven in. But, I was wrong.... The tree started falling before Ali even plugged the saw in to cut out the fargon wedges! Small problem, though..... um.... Ali....
Timberrrrrrrrr......Crash....... Oops!
Ok... it could have been worse. At least it didn't fall on Our house. Or anyone else's for that matter. But it did take out a fence & crashed about 3 feet short of the neighbors patio. Whew!
Before we even started I told my sister and niece to be recording this on video. This could have been a classic blunder that might have landed us a spot on one of those funny video shows. You Tube for sure! Of all the wrong ways for this thing to fall, it picked the path of least destruction. Seriously. A couple degrees either way, there would have been more undesirable collateral damage. If my brain would have been running even at half capacity, I would have taken a few pictures. But I didn't even think to. Maybe I can still take a shot tomorrow of the fence and the size of the tree to give you an idea. But the drama will be poorly represented. Oh well. Sorry!
So Ali & I cut the trunk to more manageable sized chunks and cleared the neighbor's yard. He patched the hole in the fence until he can replace the broken part. The fence was ours anyway. The only casualties the neighbor suffered were a couple small branches from one of their trees. Disaster averted!
So it was a mildly eventful Xmas Eve. I hope your Xmas went a little more according to plan!
...which means Welcome Winter in Latin.... in case you're wondering! :-)
And what a welcome it is! December 21st ushered in, not only a new season, but weather befitting the first day of Winter! Yesterday evening my friend & I were hanging out in my patio enjoying a fire. I was wearing a kilt. That's all. Well, until later when it got a little chilly so I donned a hoodie. But still! Of course, yesterday it was still autumn. :-)
But I have more than one reason to commemorate today. I added a new member to my family today. And her name is rather fitting, I should think...
Meet Hiberna:
She (at least I believe its a she) is a California King Snake. She is maybe 3 months old. I have been wanting a King snake for a while now. And no.... it has nothing to do with my teaching at King High School! Although its still kind of funny how this all worked out! I've had Max, my Rat Snake for about 3 years now and Kaa, my Boa for about half that time. And since I've had Max, I've wanted a King Snake. So, there you go!
For those that believe in providence, here is an arguement for you! Here's the brief story....
I am leaving for NC tomorrow. I had some last minute things to wrap up so I had to make a run to Petsmart to get a few things. A snake was not on my shopping list. Out of habit I always make a pit stop at the birds and reptiles to see what they have to offer. I've walked in there for the past few years and never came out with a snake... until today. I guess you could qualify this as an impulse buy, but since I have been waiting for the opportunity for a while, and it came, does that still make it an impulse buy? But that really doesn't matter now anyway. Here's the cool part... I knew that today is the Winter Solstice. But I didn't know exactly at what time. As it turned out it occured at 6:04 PM CST. The time of purchase on my receipt was 5:49PM. So the way I figure it... I made it home in roughly 15 minutes. Ok, maybe I'm stretching a little, but I can't be off more than 3 minutes give or take. Either way... its still pretty damn cool that I walked in the door right around the Solstice with my new little friend.
For once, naming a animal came easily for me.... Hiberna. That's Latin for winter. And it fits. I like it. And in case you are wondering.... yes, that is where we get the term hibernate.
But don't worry, Kaa is the snake boss in the house. Here is a nice recent shot of him.
I don't recall ever telling the story of how Kaa came to me in the first place.
There really isn't much of a story. But its still worth mentioning:
I'm a teacher. And a colleague of mine has a husband who is a herpatologist. Well, he is friends with the Kennel Master (the head guy at the City's Animal Control). Anyway, his department had to confiscate 2 Red Tail Boas. Well, Jaime, the Kennel Master, doesn't like to euthanize animals. So he tries very hard to find homes. Yes, even for large snakes. So that is where I came in. My colleague put me in touch with Jaime and since I was a teacher I could have the snake with the condition that I use it for educational purposes. Which I do. Hence, the relevance of my statement about being a teacher.
Now there were 2 Boas. At the time I was leary about taking both. I had never had a snake that large before. So I just took one. I really didn't like the idea of breaking them up, but I couldn't take the chance that they might be a breeding pair. And with my inexperience with Boas, I thought it best that I took one. Besides, I didn't know how it would go with one, let alone two. Since then I built a nice enclosure that could easily house 2 or even three of them. Now I could handle two. But I wasn't sure at the time. Anyway, as I learned later, Jaime did find another home for the other one. That makes me happy! see --> :-)
If snakes can actually be happy, then I like to think that this guy is.
He's been a real hit at school. He's about 7 and a half feet long now. He eats well and is a good shedder, which is cool because I can take his molting to school.
In my class we have talking about South America, so I'm able to bring a little (well, maybe not so little) piece from that part of the world into the class room.
And so today the Winter Solstice ushered a new era into my home... the era of 3 dogs, a cat, a hermit crab, an aquarium, and now 3 snakes.
Although Hiberna is a mere 17 grams today, she's still a snake. Therefore she still raises the population by one!
So my friends. Say hello to Hiberna. I'll keep you posted!
...last night! Wow. For some mysterious cosmic reason, my head coach cut pratice short yesterday. As a result we got out early enough for me to zip down to Ocean Drive and watch the moonrise from Swatner Park. I arrived just in time to see the crimson colored orb crown over the horizon. What a sight! It was especially cool because the horizon was the water! Nice! I'll get back to the moon in a while.
I stuck around for about 20 minutes before heading home to spend some time with my mom before she went back to NC. We played a round of rummy and she finally let me win one! She had been kicking my butt since she arrived. :-) She was pretty well packed and ready to go by the time I got home. So I reheated some leftovers and put some things away before sitting down to play cards. It was an early night for the both of us, esp. since she was leaving so early n the morning. She didn't have a set time. She just wanted to get an early start.
And she did. I woke up around 5:20 this morning to the sounds of my mother tinkering in the kitchen. By 6:00 she was out the door.
So there I was, trying to get back to sleep. I couldn't. I'm so used to getting up close to 6:00 anyway. Why fight it? So I made some breakfast and watched a movie. After the movie it was time to take Talbot to the vet.
When Negative Is A Good Thing
For almost as long as I've had Talbot, I had trouble maintaining compliance with his heart worm prevention. Well, all dogs actually. I was always missing months or running out of the tablets before buying more. I was trying to juggle the doses between 3 dogs while trying to avoid a hundred bucks at a time to get each of them a 6 month supply at a time. Invariably, I would end up shorting one or two of them. As a result I always had to get the heartworm blood test once or twice per year. You, know, just to make sure. So I finally decided to just get a 6 month supply for each dog at the same time. Much easier to track this way. You'd think a college educated guy would have done this a loooong time ago. But alas... I'm stubborn! But I'm finally on track. Each dog has its own box and now there are no more questions about when the last dose was administered.
So I walked with Talbot over to the vet this morning for the quick blood test. Its kind of funny how dogs know whats coming. The vet office is along the path we usually take when we go walking anyway. So as far as Talbot was concerned we were just going for a walk. Yay for the dog! That is until I take a left at a place where we usually go straight. Suddenly his tail drops and he gets nervous. There is no doubt that he knows (as do the others) where we are headed. Fortunately, he doesn't give me a hard time, he just gets nervous. The nice thing about a 9:00 appointment is that the lobby is usually empty. There might be one other pet there, but not today. We were in and out in 15 minutes with a negative test result. Not that I was worried, but its still nice to have the confirmation. :-)
As we got back home there was a message on my answering machine from my mother. I missed her call by about 5 minutes (if even that). Her message was amusing... "Are you home? I need you. Ok bye." She probably forgot where to exit in Houston.... again. So I called her back. Yup... she missed an exit... in Houston... again. :-) But she got back on track by the time I called her back so all was good.
As I'm writing this she's probably nearing Mississipi. It would be kind of cool to have a lojack or something so I could track her progress on the computer. You know, there is this feature on Google Earth that allows you to see the current position of a commercial flight. You just need the airline and flight number. That is way cool.... in a spooky kind of way. I'm sure there about 50 million parents of teenagers that would love that feature! As sure as the parents might salivate at the prospect to assert more control over their child, there are just as many teens cringing at the thought of that possibility. Yeah, that's what we need, another technology tool to compensate for inadequate parenting. But who am I to judge? I'm not a parent. But I was a teen. And I am a high school teacher, so I have a pretty good idea of the teenage mind. But that is neither here nor there right now. This is not a "soap box" post today. :-) Besides, there a lot of teens that are just fine.
I was going to go on to write a little more about the moon from last night and how inspiting it was to watch, but I need to get back to work on my chores. I have a lot of school work to do as well. I am trying to get all things wrapped up before we leave for the xmas break so I won't have to worry about anything over the holiday. We'll see how that goes. It usually doesn't! hehe
Ok friends... until the next inspiring moon (tonight perhaps)!
Good day today. We all need days like these to remind us that fun and good tidings are still to be had. Monday nights I'm glued to CBS from 7:00 to 8:30. And all three shows provided fuel for a good and hearty laugh. That's rare. I enjoy all the shows very much, but its rare that all 3 give me a good satisfying, midriff clenching, couch-bouncing, head-rearing guffaw! Yeah... that kind of laugh! I'm not gonna bother to look right now, but I have little doubt that scenes will be on you tube shortly.
The good laugh followed an afternoon of learning. Yup... I'm on holiday and I'm doing educational stuff. Well, actually, I stayed in doing educational stuff. But it was mixed with entertainment. So it still counts as a holiday-related activity.... doesn't it? You shouldn't be too surprised anyway. After all, I'm the guy that had a day to kill in Manhattan and takes a guided tour of the NY Public Library! Yeah.... that's me. I have a day to blow in the Big Apple (where did that name come from anyway?) and I go to the freakin' library! Those who know me best are smiling and nodding right about now.
So, on with today...
This morning I woke feeling rested. I had forgotten what that feels like. Don't get me wrong... I don't have trouble sleeping. I just have a busy mind and my thoughts usually involve what I have to do tomorrow. And I've been having some memorable dreams too. (Blanca.... close your eyes for a second!) I'm trying really hard to avoid analyzing them right now, but suffice it to say there is a recurring character of the female persuasion starring in them right now. Her role has been a bit lascivious in nature. (Ok you can open them again) :-)
Ok... back to the smart-making stuff.
Last week in school I was teaching my classes about the Lewis & Clark and the Corps of Discovery as well as the search for the Northwest Passage. This actually hearkens back to an entry I made some time ago when I was discussing favorites... and one of my favorite shows of all time is "Due South". Well, that show is what introduced me to the Northwest Passage in the first place. Its such an intriguing piece of history. As I was preparing my lessons I came across a Discovery program called "Search for the Northwest Passage". I didn't find it for sale anywhere, in video format or for download. But I did find it on You Tube. Go figure. So I watched it today. Of course its cut into nine or ten 10 minute segments. Absolutely unimaginable. Therein lies the potential for a great tragedy of epic proportions. With the right writers and people, this story could be told on the scale of James Cameron's "Titanic".
So that was the learning part. I took lots of notes. I have more homework to do on that subject, but I'm in no hurry. I need to find a book written by the guy that actually was the 1st one through the passage. It was Roald Amundsen, in case you're curious. How cool would it be use his own words in describing what actually transpired! Think about it... from whom would you rather hear a story: From a guy sitting behind a desk 6,000 miles away, or from someone on the ground when bombs were falling over Dresden in 1945? So the next time I teach this, I'll have a way cooler presentation!
As far as the good music part.... I spent some time digging through my music and came across some goodies. I'm putting together a nice travel compilation for my upcoming trip. Which brings me to now.
I'm in my garage smoking a cigar & I'm writing this as I periodically peer over my right shoulder at the unorganized mess of camping gear strewn about the floor. Soon I'll be sifting through the equipment & sundries for my upcoming return to the Renaissance Festival this weekend. I have my list and I'll be checking it thrice.
So, my frinds, I leave you with that. Its been a good day. Good learning, good laughs, and good music! Don't forget to smile. :-)
Its amazing how quickly the weeks are passing these days! Its already Sunday and seems like I just posted the previous entry yesterday. Another great yesterday! The day started with conditioning practice for our wrestlers. We were at Cole Park again. Its about the only place south of San Antonio with something resembling a hill.
I was on a tight schedule. I had some errands to run and a lot of cleaning to get done. My mother was coming to visit and I had to get her "room" ready and clean up the dusty spare bathroom. But before her, I had another buddy coming for a special event on Saturday night.
Richard showed up around 3:30 or so. I had some last minute tidying up to do before we departed for Lilo's place. We were heading into an all night LOTR movie marathon. If you don't know what LOTR means then you don't really know me :-)
But I must confess.... I didn't sit through the whole marathon. About 2 hours into it I went down to Tango Tea Room for a drum circle. This one was as good as the last one. Lots of new dancing faces.... well, new to me anyway. There was only one belly dancer that I recognized from a couple months ago. There were about 6 girls dancing off and on. One of them was pretty good, as far as I can tell, anyway. I wouldn't know good belly dancing from mediocre. It was a full house with them dancing and about 10 drummers! What a blast!
Last month I took my newest drum (at the time). Some of the wind was let out of my sails when there were two others with exactly the same drum. So yesterday I took my oldest drum. Its an original. Its a hand made goat skin djembe. So I knew that no one would have the same one. It plays at a lower tone. I don't play very well anyway, but this drum makes it even harder for me to get varying degrees of timbre. Oh well. But the event was so much fun. I felt bad for leaving the marathon, esp. after I was so eager to do it. But in my defense I did not realize there would be a drum circle on the same night until the day before.
After the drum circle I returned to the marathon with the second movie just getting started. John & Brenda showed up and so I lost my comfy spot :-(. Oh well. The price I pay for leaving. But it was no less cool! By about 6:00AM we wrapped things up and Richard & I left. I would have preferred to have stayed. I finally got comfortable. But the hostess evicted us :-) Its all good!
So as I arrived back home, Richard went to sleep and I proceeded to doing some chores. Nothing special.... the usual stuff.... dishes, a load of laundry.... that sort of thing. Then around 9:00 I finally made it to bed. That was this morning, mind you. When you do all-nighters, the days really run together. I was able to get a bout 3 or 4 hours of sleep in before I gave up and just got up. Back to the chores.
So around 4:00 my mom comes rolling in with her car full of stuff for a garage sale. Go figure... I sweat and struggle to load all that stuff into a big ass truck and haul it North Carolina not 6 months ago only for her to drag half of it back here for a garage sale. Moms. What are you gonna do?
Anyway, so now my eyelids are getting heavy. I tried to start reading this book Lilo gave me to read, but after reading the first paragraph 4 times and still not remembering anything, I decided to screw it and just play on the computer for a little while. Maybe tomorrow.
Ok... so I'm posting again... but think of this as a misplaced Saturday post. I was supposed to write this then, but... I... uh.... forgot.
Better late than never (except for cancer, maybe?)
Ok.... here's the issue:
Going back to the idiocy thing... another argument was recently made lending more (apparently) credible evidence that I might actually be an idiot.
Allow me to explain....
John & I had such a good time on Friday that I wanted to extend the fun. Since I was going to be in that part of town anyway on Saturday, I suggested that we have lunch. He was cool with that. I invited another friend along but she was out house hunting.
Not surprisingly, John & I were talking about the night before. And the issue of my apparent blindness to the subtle cues of feminine coyness was broached. John contended that a woman was flirting with me at the concert. My facial expression, which consisted of the standard furrowed eyebrow and the slightly dropped jaw, suggested my forthcoming quizzical response, "What are you talking about?" John proceeded to outline the behaviors suggesting the aforementioned flirting. Once again, my response was, "What!? She asked me for a light! How is that flirting?" So I still don't know what he saw. Ok, that was Friday.
Then on Saturday... we were at the restaurant. The hostess had a fold in her collar. So I fixed it for her. She said, "Thank you." End of story. Ok... so once again... Obe John Kenobe sees this interaction as flirting. Once again, "What!?" He said he was observing her reactions to me and her responses. Ok... maybe his years of nursing help him notice differences in pupil dilation, respiration rate, or skin sheen.... but what the hell was he talking about?
So anyway... it makes me wonder if I need a sign or something. He isn't the first person to tell me that I'm being flirted with. And here I was going through life thinking I had a pretty good handle on human behavior. (other peoples' behavior)
It would help explain why I have been accused of being stand-offish when I meet new people, esp. women. I suppose if I was trying to flirt w/ someone and got no response, I might think that. So I'm (begrudgingly) having to admit that MAYBE there is something to the "I'm an idiot!" theory. This has come up a few times in recent weeks. And the creepy part is that this has been discussed by a few people. Hmmm.
On Thursday I got a call from a buddy of mine. He wanted someone to go the Dropkick Murphys concert Friday night. All he had to say it was Celtic/punk and I was in! I had honestly never heard of them before. Boy am I glad he called!!!
What a blast! I wasn't sure what to expect so I planned to dress conservatively. Normally I would don my kilt to such an event, but I had never been to Concrete Street Amphitheater before so I didn't know the layout. I had my kilt in the car, but decided against it since it has no pockets and I failed to bring a purse. (man-purse, by the way! More of a leather pouch really.)
Anyway.... John talked me into it and loaned me one of his Utilikilts (they have pockets). Good thing too, the environment was quite conducive to kilt donning! All standing, no nasty, wet, or dirty seats or benches to sit on.
So I met him at his house and we gradually made our way over to Concrete Street. As we were walking up to the ticket booth we could hear the 1st of the 2 opening bands playing. As it turned out, the guy in the booth was an old friend of mine with whom I used to work several years ago. Its always cool to see old friends in unexpected places.
It wasn't too crowded. Plenty of room to move around. After a little grub, John and I downed our first Guinness then made our way closer to the stage. We caught the tail end of the band and were impressed when they were breaking down their own equipment (instead of roadies).
Shortly thereafter, we bumped into a mutual friend. That was unexpected and refreshing. It kind of makes you think that other people have lives too! Go figure! haha
I even ran into another one of my coworkers from my previous job. That was a little more of a surprise, and another one of those moments that reminds me I need to get out a little more. Who knows, I might actually meet people! What a concept!
Anyway...
The second band was a pleasant surprise. Too bad I don't recall their names right now.
Then Dropkick came out and the crowd went nuts! I see why! It took me a little while to warm up, but after a couple beverages and a cigar, I was warm. John didn't need as long to start getting into the spirit of the event. He was bouncing around to the beat long before I was done with my cigar.
About half way through the show I finally got into it. So much fun! I'm not much of a dancer, but bouncing up and down is easy. The next thing I know, my feet started kicking out as if I was dancing a reel or a jig. I really didn't know what I was doing... other than just having a good time and dancing. By the end of the concert John, some others, & I were swinging around each other by the elbows, kind of like the old square dances we had to learn in second grade.
I woke up with a thought this morning. Actually, I wake up with a thought every morning. But today's thought wasn't my usual "I wonder how long I can lay here before having to go to the bathroom."
This morning I was thinking about respect. So here is my question...
Would you rather be respected or liked? That is assuming you had to choose. And why do you think that?
I was ready for a lengthy discourse on the difference between the two, but as I sat down to write this post the answer(s) came to me.
So, my friends... this is a a short post. Now raise your hands and cheer like a 9th grader that found out he won't have homework for the weekend. (the sad thing is that someone will) (that sadder thing is that I think I know who) :-)
I will let you chew on that that for a while. I'll post my answer later. I want to see if anyone thinks along the same lines as I do.
I recently found out that I might be an idiot. But the jury is still out on that. Who knew? Wait... don't answer that. :-)
I spend so much time introspecting, that apparently I don't see things around me very well. (exospecting..???) But I'm not entirely convinced. I turn the scope inward quite regularly, but I guess I am poorly adept at looking at my environs.
Here's the question..... Would you want to know if you were an idiot? Just when I think I have a handle on things, someone comes along to tell me that I was holding the wrong handle. (sigh)
I have always done pretty well at assessing people and situations. That is, as long as I'm not in the picture. Score one for objectivity.
This issue fits in with what I call my "Frame Theory". We go through life looking at our world through a particular framework. Things within the frame are focused and clear. This is our world. Think of this frame as our relative world. This is what is relative to us. We develop our opinions and judgements about the world within this frame. We have to. Our brain is designed to allow us to function efficiently within this frame.
As we approach the edges, things get fuzzy. The lines become blurred. Our experiences determine how broad our frame is. But when we encounter something that isn't "usual" its classified as "outside" our frame. Since it is outside our frame, we do one of two things.... try to make it fit... or disregard it. It becomes peripheral junk. Kind of like all the garbage orbiting the Earth. It there... but we don't pay much mind to it... that is until a piece of it comes hurtling toward us at 22,000 mph.
Then we have to acknowledge it. And that requires effort. That effort requires energy. That energy has to come from somewhere, therefore it is taxing on our mental resources. Follow me so far?
So.... our response to the "peripheral junk" depends entirely upon what we already have within the framework. So we consciously or unconsciously apply familiar experiences to this peripheral material. That is us trying to make things fit. When that doesn't work... meaning... when we still can't make sense of it... we discard it. But we can't always do that. So this is when we are hit with anxiety.
Now, anxiety isn't always a bad thing. It kind of forces us to deal with the offending new material. Until it gets resolved, that is, until we can make sense of it, we will continue to have anxiety about it. Anxiety can be quiet and calm, but it is merely a term to describe a sense of mental discomfort. When it becomes more serious, physical manifestations can occur.
This whole process has a name... in Social Psychology its called "Cognitive Dissonance". Everyone deals with it on a daily basis, and we make small adjustments to our frames. These adjustments are called "experience".
With all that said..... I'm at the fuzzy edge right now. I'm having to reevaluate the world just outside my frame. Damn.... and I was doing pretty well for quite a while.
As a result.... the conclusion to this exploration is as of yet undetermined. I guess we'll just have to wait and see. :-)
Y'all ready for this? I'm having some issues. I know I'm gonna piss some people off, but damn it to hell... I'm gonna speak my piece! I'll begin with something on the lighter side, but it kind of sets the tone. Its actually quite funny, but you'll get the connection shortly.
One of my favorite (yes, another one. But this one is currently airing) :-) TV shows is The Big Bang Theory. There is a scene from one of the earlier episodes where Sheldon (tall guy) and Leonard (glasses) are moving a heavy box up a flight of stairs. Well, as expected, gravity plays a roll. Here.... just take a look for yourself...
Just goes to show that some laws can't be broken. Hence, my connection to Kharma here.
There are a myriad of quotes & expressions pertaining to the universal idea of kharma; e.g. "We reap what we sow." "What goes around comes around." "We reap the fruits of our labor." "Life's a bitch, then you marry one." (kidding... just had to throw it out there)
You get the idea.
Well, I'm feeling vexed about some recent developments. This is where my tenacity for honesty gets me in trouble, which in turn, leads me question what a civilization's expectations are of its residents. Big stuff, huh? Yeah, well... check out my flow....
Ok... here's the deal. One of my best friends had a good friend of hers in Iraq. A couple months ago my friend calls me up laughing her ass off and she wanted to share something very funny with me. So she goes on to explain that her friend in Iraq posted a picture on a myspace page... or he emailed it to her... something to that effect.... of him standing next to a local person holding a sign. They were both smiling for the camera. Now my memory is a little foggy on this detail, but the sign apparently read something to the effect of "When I'm not killing Americans I'm f&#*ing camels." So this was deemed as hilarious by the American soldier in the picture and his buddies. Apparently so hilarious my friend had to call me right away to tell me about it.
I wasn't amused. I got mad. And my friend wasn't laughing much longer. I'm sorry about that but was it wrong NOT to laugh along. I basically told my friend how appalling that is and how UNcool it is to make a mockery of someones culture. I was pissed. I wasn't about to laugh along giving my friend the idea that it was acceptable, even funny, to do that. The Abu Ghraib prison incident comes to mind here.
A few days later my good friend called me back to say that after thinking about it she decided that it really wasn't funny after all. Ok, then... that was done.
Well, about a week ago her friends company was ambushed & he got shot up pretty bad. The story is that he took numerous bullets to the leg and torso. He was medevaced out to a hospital where the painstaking process of multiple surgeries commenced. After several surgeries he was still in critical condition. My friend called me every day or every other day with updates. All I could really tell her that each day he survives, the better the odds become for him to recover.
I don't know how to appease a person's grief. Grief is something each person has to work through. She was particularly anxious because of the worry. She didn't know if he would survive to the next day. I don't envy her pain. But there wasn't much I could do about it either.
A couple days ago she called again with another update. He died. The damage was just too extensive. He survived about a week but ultimately, the wounds took him. People were saying that the reason he survived as long as he did was because he was very healthy and fit. So he died a soldiers death. And I feel nothing for him. Of course, here someone will take my words out of context to paint me as a villian. Go ahead, if that is what you need to do to feel less guilty about something else yourself, go ahead.
Hence my state. My friend called to tell me about his death, and I offered neutral responses in return. I just can't get myself to pretend to be something I'm not, or feel something I don't. This is the part where I'm sure people are going to be mad at me. Oh well.... such is life. After talking a while my friend said to me sarcastically, "Thanks for the support." And I told her the truth. I never liked the guy from what she told me about him. I'm sad for her loss of a friend (Which is genuine and true. I am sad for her loss.) But I won't grieve with her, nor will I pretend to. I never knew the guy. I truly felt (feel) nothing. So I guess that makes me a real SOB.
Here is where I get to the question part.... What does a civilization expect from its residents?
Am I expected to squeeze out a couple of tears on behalf of my friend? Am I supposed to behave as though humans are a dwindling population and that's one closer to extinction? Am I expected to focus the next week of my life on her well being?
Somebody tell me. Tell me why I should be or do something that I am not?
You know.... I may be damned for saying this, but I am convinced that other people think the same stuff but practice more social etiquette than I do, therefore won't say anything. As far as I'm concerned, those people have no balls. (figuratively speaking, of course).
We expend so much effort on coddling people and enabling their dysfunctions, that we risk damage to ourselves in the process.
With that said... there are times when people really do need that kind of support. And when it's time for that I will be there. But here is my gripe (Well, one of them)... We have cultivated such a nurture-craving society. It starts young. A kid falls and scrapes his knee.... Mom rushes over scoops the crying kid and begins this process of ritualistic pampering. Holy Crap people... its a scrape! Or a kid complains that another kid in class is calling them names. Mom & Dad go the principal and demand that child be reprimanded or they threaten legal action. Puuhhllleeeaaaaaase. Its elementary school!
So we start the "wah" training pretty young.
But it doesn't stop there. It carries over into adulthood. A guy isn't happy with his life. He goes to a doctor and complains about this and that. Doc says he's depressed. Guy goes to Uncle Sam and says he can't work. Uncle Sam gives him free food and a check every month. (Don't even get me started on this one.)
Now... There are many of you that don't do this. Kuddos! Keep it up. We need more people to be more abrasive. We need to teach our kids to be "tough". We need buffalo skin. I have noticed a bit of a movement toward this. This is not only a good thing, but also necessary.
But all this goes back to my friend... was I wrong? Maybe so. The point was that she needed support from me as her friend. I certainly see and understand that. Now here is another question... its a biggie...... Is it fair to expect me to be something that I'm not so I can console another?
That is where I'm vexed. I'm not minimizing my friends grief. Not at all. My contention is with the expectations placed upon me in this situation. I had a friend once. (Yes.... just once) hehe..... anyway.... he and I were close. He was one of my best friends. After college we went separate ways. Over time I realized that he was an asshole. But my desire to have a fun friend at the time presided over my rationale. Besides, I wasn't nearly as judgemental then . If something had happened to him then, I think I would have grieved. But today is different. His wife (who was his girlfriend in college.... whom he cheated on routinely) called me (out of the blue) a couple years ago. She was setting up a surprise birthday party for him and wanted me to go. She thought it would be cool to assemble his closest college buddies for a "real" surprise. Well, it would have been that. At first I said I had a lot to do and wasn't interested. (Lie) I didn't have a lot to do. (Truth) I wasn't interested. So I used a lie to coddle her a little bit. But she persisted. Then I told her more truth.... that I really didn't care for him and would rather have no association with him ever again. She was silent. She said she had no idea. Well, of course you didn't, I said. How could she. She said it saddened her and that she was disappointed especially since we were so close in college. Yes, I know. "Were" being the operative term. But I still did some coddling anyway.... I didn't tell her that he had a separate girlfriend in college for about 2 whole years while she was still at home. (They have no clue about this blog so the secret is still safe) I realize that could have been rather damaging to their relationship, esp. so many years into their marriage. But my point here that I was so indifferent that I really didn't care either way. So I remained truthfully neutral. I didn't speak ill of him, I just said we sent separate ways and that part of my life is history.
About a year ago I got a call from him. I don't remember what prompted the call. But I got home to a message from him on my answering machine. I listened to it about 4 or 5 times trying to listen to his voice... things in the background.... clues as to where he was. Was he visiting his parents in Portland and that is why he called, or was it just random.... that sort of thing. I listened to it again before deleting it. I never considered calling him.
So what's the point to all this? Well, I avoided a whole lot awkward discomfort by never calling. I think that I was expected to at least call. I think that social convention here would dictate to reciprocate the call and say "hi"... or whatever. It would be "courteous & considerate". OK... courteous and considerate to what...??? I ask. Toward my old college friend? But I no longer care for him, so why should I be courteous and considerate? I am completely indifferent.
If I had called, I would have had to be honest and just say, "I have no feelings for you so I want nothing to do with you." Because I refuse to reinforce what I consider a flawed social convention in the first place.
So going back to my friend who is grieving the loss of a friend, what would you do? What do our mores dictate is appropriate here?
I am sad for my friend's pain. But I am not sad for her friend. I feel for the soldiers around him. I know the soldiers bond is unique and tight. I respect the person who fights for what he believes. So I am sad for his comrades. I may have never been a soldier, but I am a product of a soldier's family. (Check out my blog posts from July 2008.) So I understand a little.
This stretch of road is a little bumpier on this journey of mine. I really am not surprised why I spend most of my evenings & weekends alone. I am a rather disagreeable person. Very few people "get" me. And because I refuse to play along with the social games, I don't really fit in with the common culture. This helps explain why I'm 40 and have never been married. If I give my friends this hard of a time, can you imagine what my wife would have to put up with? No thanks... I might be a decent fellow overall, but I wouldn 't marry me.
I'm irked right now. I'm actually more than just irked... I'm also livid. I am utterly pissed off... seething on the inside. But the funny thing is that I'm more irritated than angry b/c I was planning on writing about hanging out with my friend on Saturday, but now this event occured and is at the forefront of my mind. This event is what pissed me off, but I'm more irritated b/c I have to make adjustments to what I planned on writing.
How weird is that? So instead of seeking catharsis, I'm annoyed at having to figure out how to approach this post. Go figure...
There must be a certain word my kind of messed up! :-)
Ok... so I sat on it a while. I ate. I took a call. Watched a few music videos and I'm no longer actively pissed off... just still angry... but calm.
So what the hell happened....??? You may ask...
Not really a big deal when you look at the big picture. I had a portable hard drive stolen in my classroom. It isn't as though it was my life's work... my validation for being... nothing like that. It was just all my school stuff.... you know.... videos, lesson plans, assignments.... stuff like that. I only had about 20 gigs of stuff on it. The drive itself is nothing special, although it was about $60 for 60 gigs. But I've wasted more money on lap dances inside of 20 minutes. So there is the perspective. Not a big deal.... until I think of the sheer and utter perversion of a human that steals.
I hate thieves.
I haven't had any experience with murderers .... but I think I still hate thieves more. I'm not minimizing other crimes, just focusing on my loathing of those that take from others. I don't know if its good or not that I never caught anyone "in the act". I honestly don't know how I'd respond. If I came home to find a burglar in my house..... lord help that poor s.o.b....
Its during times like this I ponder the capacity of man to harm another man. Even kill. What does it take to take a life? What does it take to beat someone without regard. Is that a quality to envy, loath, respect, abhore, admire.... what? How do I view that ability? Let's be clear... I'm in no way saying that is a good thing for someone to be able to do that. I'm just wondering about the capacity to perform those acts. The truth is that no one can know what it takes until they are there. I don't imagine myself any differently.
So let's walk through this scenario... let's see where this takes me.....
... you know what... I'd rather not. At least not now. I tend to do that sometimes... that is to imagine scenarios and think how I'd respond. I believe that on some level that helps me make snap decisions if that situation should ever arise. But I've mellowed out for the evening. I don't need to get myself worked up again. :-)
I guess I'll just report the little bastard to the campus cops tomorrow and see what happens. I know who it was. The hard part is deciding how to treat the kid. I've thought of pinning him in the stall of the boys bathroom and scaring the bujeezus out of him... or just following him from class to class annoying the crap out of him. Or maybe announcing his name to every class as a thief and to watch him at all times... that kind of thing... yeah, you know... that fervent quest for catharsis.
But there is a theoretical catch.... maybe you don't know this... maybe you do... but anyway... the catch is that (supposedly) catharsis doesn't provide its intended function. That is to say, in theory, catharsis does not work.
Well, I still would like the opportunity to find that out for myself. :-)
Last night the Hunter's Moon shone brightly as it arced across the great black canopy of night. Its hue cascaded over the clouds as if pouring pixie dust across the land. The edges of the moon were swimming in translucent rings that faded as the luminescent orb climbed ever higher into the sky. I could almost hear the cadence of the hoof beats falling upon the earth kicking up dirt and leaving a trail into the wilds of the lands beyond the horizon. The riders, with hounds in stride, made for the distant hunting grounds in search of their prey... their sustinence. What do they talk about on the way? I wonder. Do they discuss strategies for bringing down their quarry? Do they speak of their lives and their loves. Do they partake in tales of passion or betrayal? Perhaps they spin fantastic stories of great hunters of yore. Meanwhile, as the frost tickles the noses of the great Ursa in the north, he rushes to eat his fill of berries and what fish may be left to catch. With a swipe of his mighty paw, a struggling salmon flutters his fins and writhes one last time before its head is crushed under Ursas jaws. Before long, nature's banquet will close.
...all this from one glance at our moon. One cannot think of the night without the moon nor can I think of the moon without thinking of the mysterious past that moon has witnessed. This weekend past, I visited some of this history. And oh what a visit it was....
It started off innocently enough. A group of travelers assembled for a journey into the lands of wonder & merriment known as the Texas Renaissance Festival. "Hip Hip... Hazah" echoed through my mind as the time for departure neared.
I am reminded of one of my favorite expressions... "There's many a slip twixt a cup and a lip." And were there ever slips! The first was a sudden "pop" followed by the sound of shattered glass falling to the ground. We were loading vehicles and talking about travel plans when one of our travel companions leaned onto the glass of an open window in my truck and the glass couldn't support the pressure, so it popped and shattered. Our departure was delayed by a few minutes as we collected shards of glass from the seat and floor of my truck. My thoughts went from "Hip Hip... Hazah" to "Hip Hip... oh boy!" I guess it didn't matter much at that point, I don't have a working a/c anyway.
DEPARTURE
After a pit stop at the ATM (nothing like technology to enhance a trip into the past) we made our way to the rendevous point. My co pilot and I pulled off the road at a designated spot to meet the others. We were the first ones there. About 2 minutes after we arrived, an unexpected visitor befell us... from behind... with colorful lights spinning in quick circles. Two ambulating beings dressed in like uniforms (a little more of the modern world to see us off on our journey) walked up to the side of my truck. "May I see you drivers license and proof of insurance, please?" he asked in a tongue familiar to my ears. We weren't in the old world yet. We were still trying to escape this one. hehe Apparently our exit from the freeway and pulling over on the side of an empty road aroused enough curiosity to warrant an inquiry into our activities. All was well, he was just checking things out. We explained we are going camping and waiting to meet our companions. Good thing he didn't ask to search the gear. I can't begin to imagine the mess that would have left. It took the better part of a whole evening just to cram everything into the boxes. I'd hate to have to do it again... on the side of the road.
My travel companion, of the female persuasion, was able to laugh with me, while eliciting the occasional honk from passersby as she stood in the road making adjustments to her shorts. I suppose that would look interesting if I were driving by at 70 mph too. Its a small wonder no one slammed on the brakes to get a closer look. Once we were assembled we made our way off. I couldn't help but wonder what hiccup lay ahead of us next.
ROAD TRIP
Much of the trip was uneventful. When traveling, "uneventful" is a good thing. That is until we hit the toll way in Houston. This was one of those days where I wished I had kept my mouth shut. "Its quicker to take the toll road." I said. It sounded like a great idea... at the time. Of course by the time we got to the camp grounds, I realized I forgot the salt and pepper... you know... for my foot. A foot in the mouth is more palatable with some spice. :-)
After a bit of confusion as to where other members of the travel party were we finally made it to the camp site.
HOW WE FARED AT THE FAIREST FAIRE
That first night all but I went to the bon fire to partake in the drumming, dancing, and festivities. No, I wasn't being grumpy. I just needed to unwind a little. Some down time was in order. I enjoyed a nice cigar and scribed a few pages in my journal. I could hear the rythm of the drums in the distance and the faint glow of a fire just up yonder. After a while I retreated into my ipod and finished my cigar. I wished that I had rememebred to bring my drum. Oh well, I figured on buying another one the next day anyway.
I didn't sleep in a tent. I brought one... well, two actually, but one was borrowed from friends that, sadly, were unable to join us. :-( But mine was donated to a worthy cause... a girl that had never been camping before. Who was I to deny the camping virgin a little bit of solitude behind the material walls of a tent? At least for her first time. :-) So I made up my bed in my truck. It was quite cozy.... except for one thing....
...all the DAMN YELLING!!! There was a group of college aged 3rd graders arguing, cursing, and apparently slapping and head butting. This carried on for about 3 hours. But I managed to get some sleep after all.
The next day we went to the fair and the first thing I did was buy a new drum. I called it my Goldilocks Drum. I already have a drum a little bigger and one a bit smaller, now this one was just in the middle. And what a drum it is! Wonderful tone. I couldn't wait until that night. I planned on attending the fire that night and bringing my drum along... of course!
For me, most of the excitement came that night. I thoroughly enjoyed taking in the sights and the shows, but all day I was thinking about that night. You see, the last time I camped at the Ren Fest, there was no bon fire. There were no fires at all. Now, the campgrounds looked like a scene from some war movie where armies were camping out.
During the day our group split up and went several different ways. But we gathered again for the fireworks. Its always a spectacle. After the show I made my way to the gate, picking up my new drum as I passed the store where I bought it. Ever so eager my fingers tapped anxiously at the skin as I walked.
ON INTO THE TRANCE
Upon returning to the camp site we commenced with the preparing of dinner. Spaghetti was on the menu. I had a small problem, though. I was accustomed to tossing the spaghetti onto the ceiling to see if it was ready. No ceiling. Hence the problem. So I improvised. I tossed it onto myself. It stuck to my chest nicely. :-) Of course just about anything would stick to my velcro. If its good enough for me... its good enough for them. No one complained about the extra salt. :-)
Shortly after eating, with my drum in tow, we made our way toward the sounds of beating drums and the noises of a collected crowd of people. I was becomming more excited with every step. As we approached the crowd, the fire was far smaller than what I thought it would be. By the size of the crowd you'd think there was a house burning... at least a shed. hehe
Apprehensive at first, I plopped down near the back edge where I could find some room on a log to sit. Gradually I tapped my drum as I was figuring the beat. I was a bit shy, but began playing a little more forcefully as I found the rythm. After a little while my friends called out to me. They had a spot for me closer to the center. After a short gulp, I squirmed my way toward their voices. I settled in near a few drummers and I had a bit of a view of the fire. There were some people dancing, mostly girls. I'm not complaining.
As my hands warmed and my confidence grew I began to play a little louder. It was noticed. A few of the dancers moved toward me a little. One of the challenges here is the sheer number of drummers trying to keep a steady beat. You'd think it was easy...
I wriggled my way closer to a guy, to whom I'd introduce myself, who was playing rather well. I followed his rythm and together we seemed to draw a few people toward us. Soon thereafter another young drummer joined us and followed our beat. The mood shifted a little as the rythm caught on... for a little while anyway.
I found my groove. We had a nice flow going, Rick & I, that is. A few more guys scooted toward us and we scooted a little more toward center. I was getting the hang of this. At one point, one of my friends was calling out to me trying to get my attention. He pointed out there were girls dancing topless around the fire. I would have to be extremely focused on something to miss that! But I cought a glimpse or two. Sorry folks... I was into the rythm.
Then came the pinnacle of the night for me. There was a brief lull in the drumming. Drummers were drinking water or beer, or whatever was nearby, rubbing their hands and taking some deep breaths. So I started up again.... forcefully and with confidence. It took about a minute then Rick picked up my beat. Then another and shortly thereafter all drummers took my beat in.... that's right... MY beat. It may not be a big deal.. but at that moment... at that point in time in this vast universe I started a wave and hundreds of people were riding it! Yeah baby... and the beat went on.... and on.... feverishly I played that drum tirelessly. I wasn't about to give up the beat. People were playing, dancing all in unison to a rythm that I established. I was entranced. My arm was on fire for a while but I did not yield. Sweat saturated my shirt and kilt. I would not stop. There was a crowd of girls dancing all around me... their skirts and hair brushing my skin. I could barely look up... I was so engrossed in my drumming I wanted nothing to distract me. I had to keep the beat. I had to know that I could. And that, my friends is what it was about. I had to know that I could! And I did!
At one point a strange woman jammed a bottle in front of my face offering to pour me a drink while I continued to drum, but I refused.... no distractions, remember? Besides.... "Who are you and what the hell is in that bottle?" No thanks. I could see the headlines now... "Scottish wannabe found in the woods with kilt around his ankles and drum between his legs" Enquiring minds want to know!
Folks, I know this is a long entry. But if you are still with me, then thank you!
Most of our group have dispersed by now. One remained with me. The mood kind of faded when we were constantly asked to stop drumming and move farther back. So a small contigent of us moved beyond the arc of the large circle and kept drumming, but to our own rythm now. There were too many drummers in the center trying to be soloists. Its OK though, I had my moment!
I looked over to my friend who was sticking around and he looked tired. He looked like he was drumming because he had to now. He suggested calling it a night. And I agreed. I was quite reluctant to stop. I wanted to experience that "feeling" again. What a rush it was. So we departed and hobbled back to the camp site. We were tired. My hands were very warm. I was worried that I would be sore the next day. I half expected my fingers to swell into stubby little sausages, but they didn't. I was quite surprised to find that I was fine in the morning. My elbow was a bit sore, but not to the point where it hurt.
ANOTHER DAY AT THE FAIRE
The second day was less eventful. It was more tranquil. I donned "regular" clothes. My kilt was so damp from the night before and the humid morning I decided against wearing it again. As a result, I was the one taking the pictures that day as opposed to being in them. Oh well. :-)
We took in a little more sweet food this time. Perhaps to replenish what we spent the previous day. We left the park by 2:30. We packed up slowly and gradually made our way toward Houston and on toward home. But we weren't there yet.
WHEN A COKE ISN'T A COKE
On our way out of Magnolia we made a pit stop for some road food and gas. I felt the need for a sweet carbonated beverage while the gas was filling. So I make my way over to the soda machine (of which I am notoriously distrustful). I usually avoid beverage dispensing machines. But I figured that I wanted to get my drink and get on the road as quickly as possible. All the while, my travel buddy was stuffing her face while amusing herself at my shenanigans.
I put my dollar bill in the machine followed by two dimes. The dimes didn't register. Nor did they fall through the coin return. I told the clerk about the dimes and he seemed confused about how to proceed. So he came out to the machine and looked at it sternly. "I tried that already" I told him. So he offered to refund my dimes. But that wouldn't help me get a coke. I still had my dollar in there. Dollar bills don't generally fall through the coin return.
So he gave me a quarter. At first I thought "What about my dollar" then it dawned on me that he was giving me the quarter to put in the machine... duh! :-) So I did and the money registered. I breathed a small sigh of relief as I pressed the "Coke" button. I waited a moment as I heard the gentle rumble of something happening inside. But still no soda. Then the "Sold Out" light came on. Figures. So I pressed the next one. Same result. Then I pressed the third and last "Coke" button. I heard the gears and the machine sounded like it was finally going to surrender its booty. Just as I began to smile at the thought of a cold coke washing down my throat (while my sandwich is marinating in mustard, mind you) my soda appears.
It was a Sprite.
So that, my friends, is my tale.
In honor of the Hunter's Moon and the drumming and dancing of this weekend past, I leave you with this video. It called "The Hunt". Enjoy.
Oh boy... he's talking about love. That ill defined, yet most desired of (perhaps) all things. I've always believed that love is truly peculiar in that in order to have it, you must give it away. It isn't something you can control. That is where people have so much trouble with it. You can't control it. Don't believe anyone that says they can control their feelings.
So what brought this on? Well, I'll tell ya... another movie. I like movies (can you tell?) Tonight I watched a pleasantly surprising flick... its a bit older (1999), but its a gem, The Other Sister. I don't know why I didn't hear of this when it was out, but its great. What I like about it is its purity. Its a portrayal of honest to goodness innocent love. Sure, we've all seen romantic comedies and those feel-good-for-now love stories. But this story endures.
The basic premise is a young woman, Carla, played my Juliette Lewis, whose protected upbringing and mental illness have denied her some basic experiences and emotions. Through her tenacity, she explores the one that changes her life... love. The movie doesn't specify on the illness. And that is critical to the story... because it allows for the audience to focus on Carla... not on her illness. The filmakers did a great job in avoiding "labels" for people with MI (Mental Illness).
MI, my friends, is something I can talk about. I spent about 10 years working in the mental health field. I've done everything from mopping the floors in a mental hospital to performing psychological/social assessments and providing preliminary diagnoses. I learned so much from my experience there. One of the things I learned, is that society doesn't want to view people with MI as individuals so much as a walking diagnosis. That is what people do... we put things in categories. The world works better for us that way. We have to put things in a framework for our minds to grasp. We all carry around a box that is comfortable for us to carry. Each person has a unique box. And we have to put the world in this box. But it has to fit. So if something doesn't quite fit, we cram it in any way we can. The problem becomes self evident here... there are always flaws in our box designs, but we would rather stuff everything into our existing box rather than redesign it. This movie avoids that....thankfully!
Giovanni Ribisi and Juliette Lewis did a good job. I don't want this to be a critique of the movie. This is me telling you folks to watch it if you want to laugh and cry and feel good. Carla's mom is trying to protect her daughter from the hazards of the world, but is learning to respect and appreciate her daughter as an individual. The mother worries about all these things that Carla can't do. But one of my favorite parts in the movie is when Carla tells her mom that she may not be able to play tennis or draw or do any number of things that other people can, but she can love. And she can be loved. Therein lies the heart of this tale.
There is a danger to this film, however. It might lead one to believe that love will conquer all. In truth, it will, but not always the way we hope.
In an effort to avoid a lengthy diatribe, I will just plug in this video montage of The Other Sister. If you get a chance to love... We should be so lucky :-)
My mind has been churning. The last few weeks my thoughts have been so wrapped up in school and getting organized & settled, that my personal musings have been suppressed. But now that I'm starting to fall into (something resembling) a routine, my thoughts have accelerated.
Recently there has been considerable discussion on favorites. Favorite movies, books, characters, teachers, etc... Inevitably the focus becomes favorite music, bands, genre, musicians, etc. This is probably the hardest thing for me to nail down. My mood plays a role in determining what I like at the time. So there is no stand out favorite for me.
Now with books, I can tell you hands down, my all time favorite book (some will be surprised it isn't LOTR) is Watership Down by Richard Adams. I would even put The Hobbit before LOTR, and even The Unlikely Ones by Mary Brown. Women would probably like this more than guys. More about relationships and judgment and less about blood and guts. However, overall I would have to say that LOTR has had the greatest influence on me over the course of my life when taking the books, the movies, and Dungeons & Dragons into account. But I digress.
Back to music. There are several artists that I have followed consistently over the years. My most enduring favorite would have to be Meat Loaf. Yup. I liked his stuff since I was in Jr. High. We didn't have "Middle Schools". His music, or more precisely, Jim Steinman's music, whose lyrical penning launched Meat Loaf into international fame. But Meat Loaf's performances are all his. They were a fantastic combination. And over the years they have consistently captured unique perspectives on our lives. And they delivered that perspective with stunning pageantry at times. That is not say that I haven't come to love many others. Its just that Meat Loaf was there at the inception of my appreciation for music. I'm not a big fan of concerts, but I made sure that Meat Loaf was one I attended. And I did. That's a story in itself.
But on to the matter at hand, or what's on my mind, actually. After my last post I have been thinking about what inspires me. Music plays a leading role here too. There are some pieces that just seem to cut right into my soul. Its as though the music and my soul are in harmonious orchestration. Like we're on the same wavelength. I believe some people can tap into that and really feel emotional with certain stimuli.
In fact, I was so determined to study the link between music and emotions that I proposed it for my Masters thesis. But my thesis advisor shot me down saying it was too broad. I'm not saying he was wrong, he wasn't, but I think he should have offered to help me fine tune my query and turn it into something more researchable and testable. But I learned about music over the years. Let me give you an idea of what I was going after. Imagine watching an emotional scene in a movie. Think of one of your favorite tear jerkers for a moment. Now imagine it without the music. I was hoping to identify a causal link. Music plays a huge role in the stories of our lives. You cannot define a culture without it.
So my thoughts turned more directly toward music that inspires me, be it to cry, to laugh, to feel sad, strong, lonely, or happy. So tonight I will share one of my favorite music performances ever. And I caught this by accident when it was live on TV. I recorded it on old fashioned VHS but that has long since gone lost. Thanks to YouTube, I can revisit this performance, and so can you. :-)
I don't recall posting this video yet, but I know it has come up in some of my conversations. This is Milla Jovovich, before anyone knew who she was. I think she was 19 at the time. She was a guest on Conan O'Brian. She was unknown, except I knew of her. ..
A long long time ago there was a music store, when LPs were still being sold routinely (I used to DJ so I went there a lot). Sound Warehouse pioneered the "listen before you buy" approach. That is why I went there. Even though they were about a dollar more than Craigs Record Factory (for those of you that have lived here long enough... hmm I wonder if there is a connection between that and Craig's List now... I wonder). Well, one day Sound Warehouse was featuring a little known artist from the Ukraine. The cover art caught my attention. It has an image that looks like its from Dante's Inferno. The album is called The Divine Comedy. Gee, where have I seen that before. So I picked up the headphones, turned up the volume, and listened in. I really liked it, particularly the song called The Gentleman Who Fell. So I bought the CD. It was like my little secret. As if she was signing just for me.
Lo and behold, who turns up on Late Nite, signing that song, no less! I was stunned and excited and pissed off all at the same time. Damn it! My secret was out. Well, as they say, the rest is history. Now hardly anyone knows that Milla used to sing. Moreover, we didn't even know her last name until The 5th Element. (Except for those of us that bought the CD and read the inserts)
So, after all that, I bring you this soulful performance of Milla singing The Gentleman Who Fell. Let the music move you. Enjoy, my friends!
I did it again. I gave myself an emotional cleansing... a bath, if you will.
I watched Dragonheart tonight. It had been a while since my last viewing. I'm still moved by it. Call me a kid, call me a lush, call me what you will... I cry every time. Every time. And tonight was no exception.
I was having this conversation today with one of my friends where we were comparing TV shows and characters. She mentioned that she learns something about herself through certain characters. She realized something on a conscious level that escapes many people. That is to say that we frequently learn about ourselves via watching others.
We see things in others that we either see in ourselves (usually good or amusing traits) or things in others that we wish to be (usually more noble or virtuous traits). This human attribute is no more evident to me than it is in one of my all time favorite characters from one of my all time TV programs... Benton Fraser of Due South.
A quick overview for those of you whose eyebrows are quizzically furrowed right about now...
Due South is (was) about a Canadian Mountie (RCMP) that was assigned to Chicago as a profesional liaison to the Chicago PD. This occurred after his father, also a mountie, was murdered. Basically, this was the RCMPs way of getting Fraser out of their hair without firing him. You see, Fraser is basically perfect... well, not literally, but you get the idea. Just picture a guy that actually lives and breathes every imaginable virtue, and then some more. So he helps his Chicago PD partner, Ray Vecchio, solve crimes. And he does this unconventionally at times. He uses all his skills that might otherwise be construed as ridiculous by the casual observer. Can you describe the difference between a clang and a clank in 15 seconds or less and do so using proper grammar? He can. This is a guy that can sniff a fire hydrant and tell you the breed of dog that peed on it and how long ago! He will be pursuing a purse snatcher down a busy sidewalk and stops to open a random door for a lady, tips his hat, greets her, wishes her a nice day, then continues the pursuit. You get the idea? All the while, on the side, Fraser is piecing together his fathers murder case. By the way, I haven't even mentioned his deaf wolf, Diefenbaker. (spelling?)
Ok... so that's the jist. It only lasted 3 seasons. Didn't have a huge fan base outside Canada. But I fell in love with it. The music was really (surprisinlgy) good for a little known TV show. This aired about the early 90s... about the time Eary Edition was on, if you recall that one.
Anyway..... I go on about all this because it illustrates my second point from earlier... how we see traits in other people that we wish we could possess. This guy is the definitive Jack-of-all-Trades. Outdoor savy, well groomed, handsome, courteous, intelligent, an eloquant orator, selfless, honest..... and so on.
Aren't these all the things we are taught to be as kids? Then why is it that he is so different from all the rest of us, aside from the obvious answer (because its scripted...duh) :-) Yeah, yeah, but here is the question that comes to me.... Why CAN'T we be like that? Or at least strive to approach that? Have you noticed that quote on the left side of this blog... close to the top, just above the Dog Lovers Corner.... My goal in life is to be as good a person as my dog thinks I am.
Think about it.
Sooooo... after all that..... Dragonheart reminds me of all those virtues that we are taught to maintain and uphold. It reminds me that I slip sometimes. It reminds me of how I want to be. Along the same thread... there is another line from a TV show that is apropos here... from the TV show Angel. There is a scene where Angel tells his son why he does the things he does, despite the cost and apparent uselessness of it all... it goes something like this...
Let it sink in a minute.
Yes, these programs are out there for our viewing pleasure and entertainment. But if you, as the audience, allow yourself to get into the program.... you can glean lessons to live by from some of them.
So now for the fun part... some video clips for your viewing pleasure, my friends. Be virtuous. Be well.
Live on the South Texas coast long enough, you have to deal with mad rushes to the gas station, grocery store, home improvement store, oh yeah... and deciding....
Imagine certain songs in your mind as you read this...
Do I stay or do I go now.... da da - da da- da da - daa..... there's a storm out in the gulf now..... da da - da da- da da - daa.....
Yup... Here we go again (I feel an 80s montage coming on) so I ran, I ran so far away, I just ran, because I wouldn't stay..... (is this corny yet?).... If you leave, don't leave now and wake me up before you go go. You won't catch me sitting at the dock of the bay as long as this wheel in the sky keeps on turning. (Somebody stop me!) People all around me are leaving. Hey, sister Christian, you're motorin', suddenly I think I'm alone now. Maybe I can make it to Amarillo by morning, or at least Luckenbach, Texas. Ah, the heck with it, I think I'll just relax and chill in Margaritaville. When the lights go out in ...er... Texas, I'll be running with the shadows of the night and don't you forget about me while I'm still here livin' on a prayer. If the storm does come its gonna be La Isla (not so) Bonita (where do I get this stuff?)
So I tried to go to bed around 9:00. That didn't work out too well. 4 phone calls in 40 minutes. I guess I shouldn't complain. People are thinking of me sitting in a humble dwelling sitting about 15' above sea level at a mere 1,000' from the water's edge... yikes! I might have to take my Kayak to HEB on Sunday. On the bright side, I won't have to water the lawn until February. That takes xeriscaping to a whole new level.
Ok, with that out of the way... hurricanes are no laughing matter. Let's take a moment to reflect on those less fortunate than ourselves. I truly am blessed, and sometimes I, like so many others, need to be reminded of how small we really are.
Be careful out there, friends. Its a big world, and sometimes it is out to get us!
Be well.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Its been a while. I haven't taken the time to slow down long enough to write a new post. Even now, I'm still distracted thinking about other things that I should be doing. For instance, grading papers. Yeah, that means school started again. Now that I'm back in "teacher" mode, my blissful freedom of a summer vacation is now another 270 (or so) days off in the future. I can't see it yet, but its there.
These past 2 weeks are almost a blur. (and now the phone rings)... See what I mean about distractions :-)
So where was I? Apparently not too far along :-)
All is well on the homefront. The critters are doing well, which reminds me... Some time ago I mentioned that I was going to do a little expose on Tibet & Pete. You know about Talbot already. And, by the way, he is doing well :-)
But before I embark upon those tales, I will have to dig through my photo albums to find pictures of them. I have a few puppy pics of Tibet, but none really of Pete since he was already 6 months old when he came to me. But I do have pictures where his youthful exuberance is quite evident. It still is, actually. After all, he is only 5 years old. He is still young and he acts like it too. Tibet, on the other hand, is like the old maid. She is also 5.... about 2 months Pete's junior. But you'd think she was 10. She has this matriarchal (er...ness) about her. She is who I affectionatley refer to as the guardian. She is that. She wants to be a lap dog. But at 55ish lbs, I think not! Despite her role as the packs guardian, Talbot won't let her forget that she is not too old to play. And do they play! It is quite amusing, really. They have this black Kong bone that looks like a few grenades exploded next to it, but it is still in tact, albeit, quite chewed up. Tibet is also the most vocal of the bunch. She is the most assertive too. I might be lying on my bed when she will approach and announce her arrival with a friendly little head butt to my arm or whatever body part is conveniently close to the edge of the bed. So I dutifully give her a little scratch and she wanders off again. Then Talbot decides he wants some attention too. So instead of the head butt, he opts for the panting in my face approach. I'm not sure which gets my attention more effectively, the head butt, or the heated canine breath swirling into my nostrils. Either way... a little scratch behind the ears is due. By the time Talbot is satisfied, Tibet is already on her way back. I'm sure in her mind there is some kind of a "reset" button that justifies a new head scratch every 90 seconds or so when she walks off. I hear her claws on the floor as she exits the bedroom, does a lap around the living room and the halls, then returns for the next head butt. Does she not realize that she was just there 90 seconds ago?
All the while, Pete just kind of lays there watching the tag-team with Tibet and Talbot vying for a head scratch. After about the 3rd round, he decides to get in on the action. Only Pete's approach is more dramatic. His approach is harkened by the knocks on the wall and furniture as his swaying (remember the weapon?) tail approaches. Honestly, folks, I'm still amazed that more things don't get knocked off tables or broken. He literally clears a path behind him as his lumbering 85 lb frame & 200 lb tail make their rounds! Pete has the advantage of being able reach his head about 12 inches over the bed to let me know he is there. And having a tongue almost as long as a giraffes enable him to reach another 12 inches. I'm not safe. Even if I had a King size bed (which I don't) I would have to make myself as slim as possible (which would be quite the feat given the girth of my ass alone) in the middle of the bed just to escape his reach!
But what can I say? Who am I to deny affection to those who bring so much to my life? When I have my dogs and my cat around, its as though all is right with the world! Well, at least in my little corner of it!
Be well
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Wow! That about sums it up for me. Wow!
Did you ever see the movie "Powder"? If you have, then watch it again real soon. I had not watched it since it was released. I loved it then. But it became one of those movies that I remember liking a lot, but not enough about it to think much on it. Recently I started thinking on it again. Maybe because of my recent thoughtfulness. You know, that stuff people go through every once in a while when they take stock of their lives and decide if they've amounted to much of anything? Yeah, I've been doing that for the better part of the last year or two.
I become real soul-full & thoughtful at times. I think about what people do to each other and even to themselves. I wonder if the world really is in balance. With so much pain, there must be a whole lot of bliss. But we must choose to see it. That is the problem. Pain is glamorous. Bliss isn't. There's a thought for you. Pain is glamorous. I guess that was made evident during gladiatorial competitions. That tradition has found its way into modern culture too. Boxing, pit fighting, cock fights.... if it involves pain, blood, violence, or anguish it becomes desireable, therefore glamorous. Sickening, really, but true.
So I watched Powder. What a beautiful story. Do you remember the story? Do you remember the message? Here's a hint:
What a wonderful concept. Its so simple yet so difficult to comprehend.
I have this idea about people. Yeah, that's us. (Civilized) People have this inherent desire to be noticed as an individual. We struggle to be disassociated from others. Yet at the same time, we yearn to belong to others like us... or more precisely, we yearn to be more like others that we like.
Is it so hard to accept that we are all connected? Is it so so hard to release the pressure of learned mores that dictate what our opinions should be? People can't seem to come to terms with the thought that they (you) can still be an individual, but as a part of something huge and fantastic! Like an engine (if you'll pardon the over-simplified analogy) an engine serves a single function as a singular unit, but relies on a myriad of individual parts to do the job. Of course, then you run into some yutz that wants to be the generator, or the fuel pump. They get so caught up in their individuality that they try make themselves more important than the other parts. They lose sight of the big picture.
I'm reminded of a scene in the TV series, "Firefly". One of my all time favorite shows, by the way. In the episode "Out of Gas" Capt. Mal Reynolds sends his crew off the ship because she, Serenity, is broken and not producing O2. The culprit turned out to be this small part (I don't recall what it was) but it was a simple fix, really. But he needed the part. Well, another ship picks up the distress signal and comes to Serenity. As it turns out, they have the part Mal needs. When Mal told the other guy what he needed, the visiting Capt. said, "That's a nothing part." And Mal replied, "It is till you ain't got one."
So anyway, that's the point. There's no such thing as a nothing part. (Except maybe for the appendix. People are still figuring on that one.)
We are all connected, my friends. Like it or not. Believe it or not. But sometimes it takes something like Powder to remind us.
Here is a parting shot of the movie that inspired this post, and inspired me to remember that there is balance out there. I just need to choose to see it!
Do you ever wonder what the world would be like if no one judged? How would things be different? If we didn't spend so much time assessing our place in the world based on the judgments others made of us, what would we think about, if not that? How would we treat each other, if not under scrutiny?
Would we be free?
"Free of what?", one might ask.
The answer... judgment.
Would "happiness" be redefined? Perhaps new parameters for happiness would be set.
"Happiness is only real when shared." is what Chris J. McCandess (bka Alex Supertramp) scribbled in a book as he lay dying in his "Magic Bus". Chris was dying a slow death from poisoning. He mistakingly ate toxic plants that soon claimed his life. And I guess he came to his conclusion when he realized he was dying alone. Sad. Very sad.
Recently I watched "Into the Wild". My friend is going to loan the book to me. But the film got me to thinking. I think Alex's story is a portrayal of what many, nay, most.... well, almost all of us struggle with, but don't necessarily know it. We are running from something and running toward another. But what? Do we know? Do you know? Do I know?
I have an idea of what I'm running toward. Freedom. More specifically, freedom of socially induced anxiety. This anxiety manifests in many different ways. But all of it stems from internal conflict. (I hear Freud knocking on my door). As much as he's mocked, he was on to something that harkens back to the very cores of our being. But he wasn't alone. Others soon realized that as people develop, social influences shape our view of the world around us and our role in it.
Hence, the birth of behaviorism. Stage theorists operated under the same principle, but used different frameworks to convey their ideas. The binding concept is that for a person to develop in a healthy fashion, they had to negotiate a series of obstacles placed before them by society. If a person was unable to complete a "stage" successfully, conflict emerged. So the human animal has 2 choices... resolve the conflict or avoid it. Therein lie the complexities of behavior.
What Goldstein & Maslow called self actualization, Buddhists call enlightenment. Same thing, really. Different framework. I'm no expert on Buddism, but the principle applies.
In Alex's case, he was trying to free himself from socially imposed standards and expectations. He was just trying to.... be. But it came at a price. He was continuously haunted by internal strife stemming from conflicting thoughts and emotions. His conflict was between what he wanted to become and what his (our) world expected of him.
You know that expression about people that tend to do their own thing... marching to the beat of a different drum? I wonder if those people ever figure out who the drummer is. How many of them beat their own drum? Each culture has its own beat... its own drum. And since people define what the culture is, wouldn't it be reasonable to assume that each person could have their own drum, and subsequently, their own rhythm?
So we struggle. Amidst the din of drums, we have to decide if we want to step into the rhythm of one or learn to play the drum.
Find your drum.
Be well
Stephan
Saturday, August 9, 2008
They are back home now. North Carolina, that is. My mother & niece left Thursday morning. They got home about 7:30PM Friday, EST. It was a good visit. We played cards and I got to spend a lot of time w/ my niece. She's way cooler than I was at 13. I was such a dork, but I was too dumb to realize :-) I guess that was probably a good thing.
I think its safe to say we did some bonding. She isn't quite as reclusive as I thought she was. And I'm not quite the boring uncle she thought I was. (not that she ever said I was boring) but there were some things about me that surprised her... at least a little bit! Let's see if I can recall the things she experienced with me that were new to her....
went kayaking in the surf and in the flats
sea shell combing on an uninhabited (by humanoid bipeds) island
refurbished a dog house and got to operate power tools (the cool kind that make sparks fly)
shared a lot of music
went to a drum circle and got to see some belly dancing (watched her uncle beating on a drum, not belly dance!)
drank Kiwi-Strawberry slushes
fired a rifle (just kidding Mom) LOL
watched The Breakfast Club
oh yeah, and talked!
Not bad for a 12 day stint.
It was a pretty cool feeling when we were listening to some of my music and she asked what song that was or who sings that... I guess the old guy has some taste, after all, huh?
One of the songs that she liked was by Michelle Branch, "Goodbye To You". I told her my favorite version of the song was in an episode of Buffy The Vampire Slayer (Tabula Rasa for you Buffy fans). We didn't get around to watching it, but I found it on You Tube. See it here...
Its one of my all time favorite musical performances. This was actually when I was first turned on to Michelle Branch. There are a few performances that strike a chord deep within me. I will share some more in the near future. As I'm listening to this song, I think of this summer. It has been a fantastic summer for me. Many good things happened. Not the least of which was hanging out with my niece.
Last year I told myself that I was going to spend more time at the beach this summer. And I have been. I think I have been to the beach more these past 2 months than I have in the last 5 years. I have the tan to prove it :-)
So how about a quick recap of this summer...
went to beach... a lot
kayaked often
helped my mother and family move into new home
hung out with some really amazing people that I now call friends
learned about blogging
started a meditation journal (but I still suck at it)
apologized to some dear friends for missing their wedding
discovered fruit slushes
didn't gain any weight
passed the state credentialing exam for Secondary Social Studies and received the certificate
did some refurnishing at my house
was reconnected with a long time friend
spent quality time with my niece
and got to know two people a whole lot better... my dad and myself
Speaking of myself, I had another good thing happen... I got hired on at King High School where I have been a wrestling coach for the past 2 years. Now I'll be working at that school too!
But the summer isn't quite over yet. Tomorrow a couple friends and I will be kayaking around down town. We are planning on paddling around the Lexington.
On a final note for tonight... I thought I'd follow up on my own little music video. Laura & Micah saw my post and of course the video with it. Apparently I have been forgiven for missing their wedding. :-) We are planning for me to visit them in the near future. I look fwd to that with great enthusiasm! I miss them. After all, they are good peeps!
I don't recall ever telling the story of how Kaa came to me in the first place.
