Musings Of A Journeyman

Just for you, babe... Happy (what would have been) six months

2010-09-20T20:38:00.002-05:00

Yeah, it was 6 months ago today that she & I met. I started to fall in love almost right away.
What a day it was, too! I wouldn't trade it for anything. Such promise was laid out before us... such potential.

But I didn't see the whole picture. I mean, who ever does when your heart is all a-flutter?
The other side of that coin is there was also promise and potential for difficulty and pain as well. I didn't see that part. I was just too blown away by this incredible woman that was interested in me! Tremendous excitement!! I loved every minute of it.

It might seem like I'm dwelling. Maybe I am.... but truthfully, I'm not having as hard a time today as I thought I would. I was anticipating worse. I must admit having to struggle with myself today.... fighting against the urge to call her... or email her just to say,

"Happy what would have been six months anniversary, baby!"

But I didn't. I was hoping that maybe she would remember what today is and call me. Or at least text me. Do you think she remembers today? I'd like to think so. But then again... I really can't figure anything on this woman.

Many people would laugh or at least chuckle at my monologue. How silly it must appear that a 42 year old guy going about about a 3 month relationship. "Move on, dude." Yeah maybe... but I choose to commemorate. And I will again when it has been a year because that relationship was THAT significant to me. Even if I meet a magnificent woman tomorrow and fall in love all over again, I will still remember her and acknowledge what she meant to me.... even if it was only 3 months. So I say to you that may ostracize me.... I will always honor those that made me better, whether through pain or through bliss. Nod your head and say "Aye!" if you agree.

Besides, its not that simple to just forget that day anyway. The universe... or God... or Allah... or Jehovah..... or the Great Spirit...... or whoever.... made it a point today to make sure that I didn't forget.

Oh yeah! Something really really weird happened today.... and of all days it was today.... on the 6 month anniversary. I couldn't have scripted this any better. If someone had told me this happened to them I would be reluctant to believe them.... but sometimes stuff like this happens to me.
So you wanna know what happened, do ya...?? This will help explain why it was such a struggle for me NOT to call her.

Let me explain a little piece of our history to set the scene....

Without going into any great detail, I'll hit the point in a hurry.

On our first date... March 20, 2010, the Vernal Equinox, no less... you know... 1st day of Spring... new life springing forth and all that jazz... yeah, new love for me too... but I digress....
On that day we met for coffee at 11:00AM at a local coffee shop. We hit it off and get carried away in conversation. 4 hours later.... yes... 4 hours later neither of us wants the date to end so we agree to take a short break to tend to our dogs at home and then meet in about an hour at the movie theater.
Upon my arriving at the theater I discovered that I had a flat. How embarrassing! But at least I wasn't picking her up. So we watched the movie, Avatar. After that she pulled her car around to my truck and aired up my flat tire for me. That's right... she did. She had one of those emergency compressors that will also jump your battery if needed. Handy thing to have. I offered to do it but she insisted that I just let her. Ok, then... so she aired up my tire enough for me to get to a store to buy one of those cans that airs up your tire long enough to get the flat fixed.
After a late dinner and an 11 and a half hour date we said good night. The next day I took my truck in and had the flat mended.

Ok, great story, huh!? Yeah... here's the weird part....

I got a flat today.

Yup... 6 months later... to the day, mind you, I got a flat. Who would ever imagine that? So how in the hell can I NOT think about that day 6 months ago!? It sure makes a compelling argument for those that believe in fate... or providence.... or divine intervention... or whatever. Don't you think? Crazy!

And yet, I refrained from calling, emailing, or texting her. But I sure wanted to. Even if I did and I told her what happened, I doubt she'd believe it. I doubt I'd believe it!

Well, folks.... that's my story for today. I'm a little sad that I let something so magical go. But it wasn't all me. But I'm surprised that I'm doing as well as I am. So no, I'm not dwelling, my friends... certainly not wallowing. Just commemorating!

Have a great Tuesday, all!
Be well.

Ah, 7 miles today... in the rain!

2010-09-19T13:45:00.003-05:00

Yes, we have rain... lots of it.
I always love the rain. I love rainy weather, especially on the weekend. One of my favorite things is to hang out on the couch with my girlfriend and lazily listen to the pattering of the rain on the roof. Oh wait... can't do that now... Too bad, I guess. Just one of the things I miss about being in a relationship. Its ok, though.... there will be another.... some day.

I had a great time yesterday hanging out with my friends playing board games. It ended up being an all day affair. If you enjoy playing board games with friends, raise your hand and say "I wanna play!" Now look around to make sure no one saw you :-)

The rain has been (almost) unrelenting today. It was slow enough this morning for me to go run.
I took Friday and Saturday off from running. This was the first time since I started running regularly that I took 2 consecutive days off. In an effort to make up for some of that I ran 7 miles today. The rain was light when I started. There was a brief period where it picked up considerably, but then it let up again. All in all I ran for about an hour and 10 minutes. But it was good.

Earlier this afternoon I took Talbot (one of my dogs in case you forgot) to the groomers for his appointment. The rain was heavy at the time and my street was literally covered with a sheet of water about 2 inches deep. So I made my way to Petsmart with Talbot. I had no trouble getting him in the truck. Getting him out was another story. As I was driving I suddenly got a small shower of rain inside my truck. I thought I left a window open, but Talbot decided it was a good time to shake the excess water off his coat. I never thought I'd need my umbrella inside the truck! hehe. As we arrived, after some creative maneuvering through the flooded parking lot at Moore Plaza, we learned that the store was closing on account of the access roads flooding. Great! But there is good news.... They rescheduled Talbot for next Sunday with a 15% discount on the grooming. Now that's customer service! Maybe it will flood again next week and they will reschedule again for another 15%! Yeah, wishful thinking. :-)

But its all good. The 15% will save me about 10 bucks. Nice!

So now I am home-bound. I have plenty to keep me busy. I brought school work... (yuck) but it needs to get done. I have a full week lined up for the kids and I need to have everything ready.
I would much rather have someone to hang out and relax with. Maybe someone that can rub my sore calves and hammies. Maybe next time.

Well, then... time to get my kitchen cleaned up.. get ready to make some chili for later. And with the laundry in the dryer I can get some school work done.

Until next time.... be well. Stay dry. And if you do happen to get wet... have fun with it!

When will it be long enough?

2010-09-18T11:42:00.003-05:00

When indeed?
Whoever discovers the secrets of the heart must keep it secret. Should such powerful knowledge ever be unveiled, it would be the end of humanity as we know it.
For it is this mystery that keeps us guessing from one day to the next.

For me, I would have thought I would be done by now. Done with my mournful thoughts. Though they are, by far, less frequent and less intense, they continue to haunt me periodically.

This is a safe avenue for my thoughts to travel, for she does not know of this digital journal.
It baffles me that I still harbor the feelings I do for someone with whom I spent such a minute portion of my life. It is strong evidence for the quality of time spent that matters, as opposed to the length. I learned tremendous lessons from my 3 month venture into the seas of passionate love. Yes, that's 3 months. And this weekend marks significant anniversaries for me....

It was 6 months ago today that we first exchanged emails. 4 or 5 of them over the course of the day.
It will be 6 months tomorrow that we spoke on the phone. 4 hours over a medium that, as a rule, I never really enjoyed much. I prefer talking ion person. Always have.
It will be 6 months the day after, that we met, and I began to fall in love... excitably and unknowing of what was in store. This was the day that magic began.

For 3 months my passion burned so brightly a blind man in Iceland might have felt the warmth. A fire that burns brightly burns quickly, they say. Only 3 months. We have now been apart for as long as we were together. And yet, I still cannot quell my heart's desire for that companionship. Why?

I no longer mourn to the point that my sleep suffers. Nor do I spend all waking hours longing for her return, yet there is always something to remind me of what I had, however briefly. Only 3 months of this love and it marked my heart and soul so deeply that it redefined me. I changed who I am as a result of this love for this woman. I became a better man in many ways.

In 3 months, I was affected so profoundly that my previous 42 years are barely recognizable. This in only 3 months.

After hours upon hours of deliberating within my heart and mind... a mind that I once believed to be a powerful one, I have come to the humbling conclusion, that I really never knew her at all. I have never been so wrong about a person in so many ways. I did not understand her. Apparently I never knew her at all. How much of this is my fault? How much of this is her fault?

All I ever asked in return is to be loved and to be understood. And for the first part of those 3 months I believed I was on my way to having my dreams realized. I now believe that is the greatest comfort I can ask for.... not wealth, not a plush bed upon which to rest my head, or a fanciful home. Not even the promise for eternal bliss. But the comfort in knowing someone understands you and still loves you completely.

Never before was I so willing to give everything of me and even more. I made accomodations for things I previoiusly would not not have tolerated. I was bewithched and intoxicated, but not in a malicious manner. I was astounded that so many things I desire in a woman were actually right before me. Right there for me to see, to hear, to touch, and to smell. Her scent alone lingered within my nostrils for hours when we were apart. I used to cuddle the pillow on which her head rested, breathing deeply and slowly, ingesting her aroma. When she would come to visit all my neurons fired with excitement and anticipation as I laid my eyes upon her. In so many ways I felt my existence mattered so much more than it ever had before.

For that is what I offered her. I willingly gave my heart and soul over to her. I entrusted my essence to her her... and only her. But I erred. In more ways than one, I erred. I saw what others did not. But now I wonder if I saw only what I wanted and hoped to see, instead of what was there. I refuse to believe that my heart loved an illusion. I refuse to believe that my love was in vain. Alas, it appears to be so.

I have made attempts to "move on", as it were and have found it more difficult than what I believe it should be. Yes, only 3 months... and all this spiritual turmoil.

2 weeks ago she called me. But the conversation was empty. For an hour on the phone, little was said. I spoke little. It was mostly her telling me about what has been going on with her. I kept waiting for some purpose for the phone call.

As much as I hate to admit it, I was still hoping there would be some indication on her part that I am missed... that I am thought of... or dare I even conceive the idea... that I was desired. But there was no such confession from her. Why then... why the phone call. My friends tell me to stop torturing myself. Agreeable sentiment, certainly. I suppose I would say the same thing if I were in their shoes.

So I am left wondering where her mind is... where her heart is. If I was so wrong about her, then wherein lies the truth? What lies in her heart and mind? What thoughts of me are there? Damn my incessant desire to "know"! If I were to know the truth would I find it appeasing? Or would it facilitate my emotional discomfort?

Sometimes it pains me to think that she has desires for others, rather than me. Whether she does or not, is entirely unknown to me. After all, I have been so very wrong about her. With that said, she has also been very wrong about me. And a large part of my pain lies in my belief that she had no interest in learning the truth of me. She simply discovered that she was not attracted to me and that I didn't suit her, so decided that I was not what she wanted after all. So I assumed she left easily. And again... I wonder... am I wrong about that as well? I am trying to come to terms with the idea that I will likely never know.

Damn my incessant desire to "know"!

All this in only 3 months.

You must see this

2010-09-02T22:19:00.004-05:00

Just for a moment... lets forget that it has been over a year since my last post. Let's not take time to catch up on what I have been up to for the past 15 months.... although there have been some very significant events in my life... some of the most significant in my entire life...

That's not what this is about...

Its about (what could be) the singular most powerful movie I have ever watched.
A little while ago I finished watching "The Stoning of Soraya M."

Check out the trailer here...

I don't want to give too much away, although the title pretty much says it all.
It boggles the rational mind that any religion (or any civilized people) can dicate a law that mandates this kind of brutality.

This movie will keep you riveted to your seat and at the same time will piss you off.
I don't pretend to be an expert on Islamic culture, but I find it hard to accept that this is something that can occur on any given day. It just goes to show that justification is completely subjective.

I don't know if this means that I will resume my blog. In fact, as I become more enmeshed into the new school year, I find it unlikely. So today's entry is merely a platform... a stage, if you will, to showcase this film.

Watch it, if you dare.

So This Is Supposed To Be Vacation huh?

2009-06-09T21:38:00.002-05:00

It isn't exactly how I planned to spend my first evening of my summer vacation. Here is how it was supposed to go...

4:30PM - wake up from nap
4:32 - pee
4:38- tap, shake and head to kitchen
4:39- start coffee & let dogs out
4:40- pee.... yes, again. (Have to chase out the stragglers)
4:42- (shorter) return to kitchen
4:43- peer into pantry and refrigerator repeatedly until an idea strikes
4:44- see 4:43
4:46- scratch and decide on dinner
4:49- get ingredients needed ready
4:54- remember that I just made fresh coffee
4:55- pour cup of fresh coffee
4:56- head toward computer and fire it up
4:57- check email, facebook, bank account, play pocket tanks
5:20- start cooking while jamming to tunes
5:35- sit at coffee table and have dinner while watching next episode of House Season 1
6:20- bring dogs in and feed all the critters
6:31- call drinking buddy
6:32- leave message for drinking buddy to call back
6:33- give treat and put dogs out again
6:34- head into garage for coffee and cigar while playing games on computer
7:10- pee
7:11- take shower
7:23- towel off and check for messages
7:27- pick up dog poop in yard and water grass & foliage
7:38- scratch
7:39- dispose of aforementioned poop and return into house to hear the phone ringing
7:40- talk to drinking buddy and make plans for evening
(if you're still reading this you must really have a sad life)
7:41- clean up crockery
8:08- wipe sweat from brow
8:09- watch next episode of House
8:35- answer interrupting phone call and talk with friend
9:03- resume House
9:04- pause House and go pee
9:09- let dogs in and resume House
9:24- turn off TV and get dressed
(you're still reading? You're pathetic)
9:32- gather my things and tell dogs not to wait up
9:34- head to watering hole
9:51- arrive at consumable goods facility
9:53- stroll into establishment and look around like I own the place
9:54- approach bar as first people notice I'm wearing a skirt
9:56- order a beer as I scan the staff
9:57- pull out my ID (because I look so young)
9:58- chuckle at the compliment and say "I get that a lot."
10:00- take my first swig as I hear "MAK!" announced loudly and excitedly behind me
10:01- slide off stool and give buddy hug
10:02- engage in banter with buddy and accelerate consumption rate
(Still reading, huh? Now its getting a little better.)
11:36- have all the women play rock-paper-scissors to see who gets to share my company
11:37- recover from slap in face from friend who caught me day dreaming again
12:26- stop drinking etoh and start on water
12:27- pee...................... (gonna be a while)
12:41- continue laughing as drinking buddy continues with funny anecdotes about our days in the trenches together
12:58- pee (the seal is broken now)
2:00- close down the bar and wait 20 minutes for buddy to finish talking to people
2:21- continue conversation in parking lot
2:39- pee (flood gates have been open for a while now)
2:44- hug buddy and head for home
3:04- arrive home, greet dogs and let them out
3:08- pee
3:12- get undressed and let dogs in
3:17- zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Well, that didn't happen.

Things were going according to plan until 5:35. Then.....

5:35- sat down to dinner and noticed TV wasn't working
5:37- tinkered with controls
5:43- cursed
5:44- answered phone call from drinking buddy
6:03- got off phone after learning that buddy can't go out due to taking a class in the morning
6:04- moved dinner into computer room
6:06- browsed through netflix to select movie to watch on computer while having dinner
6:07- watched movie and ate
6:40- paused movie and fed critters
6:56- resumed movie
7:50- finished movie and let dogs out
7:51- pee
7:55- took shower and shaved
8:12- checked email, web-sites, etc.
9:10- moved laptop to patio and started fire
9:16- brought dogs in
9:19- started fire in patio and signed in to blogspot
9:21- lit Perdomo Maduro Vintage
10:36- finishing up blog and cigar as fire is fading

Be well!

What a movie!

2009-05-17T22:40:00.002-05:00

I watched a good movie this evening. I was due for another good purging.
So I purged, but not as heavily as thought I might. I guess once I figured out what was happening, the plot didn't hit me so heavily. Nonetheless.... powerful stuff!

I saw Seven Pounds.

The hard part is for me to comment on the movie without giving the story away. Even though the audience can pretty well figure out what will happen within the 1st thirty (or so) minutes, its still compelling to watch. It draws you in.
It is about compassion and guilt. Two very powerful emotions that drive this story.
I couldn't help wondering what happened to the Box Jelly. But that is beside the point. :-)

I was reminded of my days in college. In grad school I took a Social Psychology class. There was considerable amount of material and ensuing discourse regarding altruism. There is an undying philosophical question associated with it too..... Is there such a thing as pure altruism? On just about any given day you can hear someone discussing this in the library or hanging out near the Psych classes. My professor and I had a discussion about this too. I never did figure out what his opinion was, but then I suppose that is what made him a good professor. He & I discussed this a couple times and he understood my position well. Well enough to use me as an example in a class discussion. Score 1 nerd point for the guy sitting in the center of the back row. :-)

This argument is (predictably) never really settled. There are strong opinions going either way. Its kind of like arguing over which side of the sausage is its beginning?
But within that argument lies something even more important. Even more important than the motives for altruism is the outcome of it. What does the reason matter if someone did something for someone else. Isn't the outcome what really matters?

I put this movie in the same class as "Life as a House." Amazing!
I'll leave you with a couple trailers from these movies.... Food for thought.

Let me know your thoughts! Enjoy & be well!

Change in plans

2009-05-04T21:56:00.003-05:00

Well peeps.... if you didn't notice, I was trying to do this story thing on here. But my lack of consistency to the story I was working on caused other stuff to go by the wayside. So I decided to start another blog page just for my stories. Once I figure out how to do it, I will post a link to it from this page. But for now... the address is http://scrollinggest.blogspot.com/

I copied the 4 parts to the story to the new blog. This way I can continue with the story-telling at my leisure and not leave this blog unattended for such long periods of time. There have been some developments in my life that have been left unblogged. So let's see if I can do a brief bulleted list to get you caught up... (these are in no particular order)

Our boys & girls wrestling team won districts
My mother is visiting
My sister has a new job. Well, same job, new school. She loves it!
I have grass in my back yard now
I just returned from a fun-filled weekend in Lake Harmony, PA for a cigar festival
I have a new skill, shoveling horse s*!t
I have been working on a new habitat for one of my snakes
Talbot got a hair cut
My friend Lilo bought a house
My friend John rented a house
My friend Joy moved into a bigger apartment
I helped all three of them move
I helped all three of them move
I helped all three of them move
My back hurts :-)
I'm still funny

That ought to about sum it up.

I am planning on returning to the annual VHPA reunion this year. Its in Philadelphia. I haven't finalized the plans yet, but within the next week or so I should have it all figured out.

I'm keeping this one short. I have some more things to do tonight, so I'm gonna call it a blog!

Be sure to check out my other page. I hope it becomes a regular page for you to visit. Hopefully, over time I will have a variety of stories and poems on there. I'll try to hit different genres. My family isn't too big on the fantasy stories, so maybe my next one will be something they will like. We'll see what happens.

Thanks for visiting!

Be well

2009-02-09T21:40:00.002-06:00

Yeah, I know. Its been a while. Ok, a loooong while.
Generally saying that I've been busy is just a euphemism for saying that I was too lazy. Honestly, there is truth to both. Don't you just love honesty? :-)
I can't help it. Its a product of my high moral standards. Or is it.......????

How did you like the way I segued into my topic tonight? Pretty cute, eh? :-)
So here I go on honesty... something that I hold sacred. To me, honesty is one of the pillars of ...
well... not humanity. Can I say animality?

You can see where I'm going with this, can't you?

No, I haven't had a recent breach of trust. I didn't get swindled. (unless you know something I don't) My integrity hasn't been scrutinized. So where is this coming from?
Honestly (there I go again) it just popped into my head right after I said there was some truth to being busy and lazy. But right as I started on this topic, the question of the origin of honesty sprang to mind. When did honesty become a moral obligation? Who ever deemed dishonesty as as bad?

I'm shooting from the hip here, folks, so just go with me on this.

In my exploration of this topic I have to consider different applications of honesty and how it is beneficial to the one who commits honesty. Or how about the recipient of honesty. Who really benefits from honesty? As I'm pondering the possible threads to this chain of thinking I realize that people have probably written 200 page dissertations on this stuff. I hope I'm not getting in over my head here. After all, can honesty really be explored objectively?

So, let's dig in. As good a place to start as any is with the origin of the word. At least in its English form. I did a little checking and there are no mysterious origins to honor. According to The Barhart Concise Dictionary of Etymology it is derived from Latin honestus which expectantly means respected, truthful, or fair. No news bulletin there.

Something occurs to me, though. Respected, truthful, and fair are human values. People decide what is fair. Respect is a little less easy to attribute solely to humans, but still workable. And truthful implies an acknowledgement of fact. So does this mean that humans also decide what is honest? If this is true, then honesty can't really be explored objectively.

To twist this thought a little, lets look at this more philosophically. Was there honor before man? This reminds me of something Nietzsche pondered... "Did God create man or did man create God? I'm not well versed enough with Nietzsche to know if he ever proffered an answer to his own query, but I think the application of the question fits.

In order to explore this I have to view this matter from a more biological angle. More specifically, evolution. This ties back into my earlier question about who benefits from honesty.
I'm certainly not the first to pose this question. Robert Wright, who authored The Moral Animal: Pantheon Books 1994, discusses Charles Darwin and evolution in a number of places. He wrote, "Truth and honesty are never favored by natural selection in and of themselves. Natural selection neither 'prefers' honesty nor 'prefers' dishonesty. It just doesn't care."
So does honesty really matter when survival is at stake? What about altruism? Can someone do something dishonest in order to procure a greater justice? Robin Hood would say "Absolutely!"

But I'm not going to get into the parameters of honesty here. Or honor for that matter. Honor has become so twisted these days its almost impossible to convince someone that defending their perception of honor is misplaced. See what I mean.... there is that man-made concept again.... perception.

When a person's honor and integrity is threatened, they are likely to lose objectivity and act on a moral imperative to act on their perceived threat. The key, once again, being the perception of a threat.

Any person engaging in a discourse on honor would be remiss to omit discussing the religious implications here. People live in the constant fear of being cast into eternal damnation if they so much as even conceive dishonest thought, let alone act dishonestly. So how is honor served when your instinct and biological imperative are in conflict with your religious imperative?
That, my friends, is what we call a dilemma.

Suppose you are lost in the desert. Its been two days since you had any water. You are already suffering the effects of dehydration. You encounter a well equipped stranger setting up camp. You ask for water and he refuses to share any and he tells you to keep going and not to bother him. Later he falls asleep and he has water all over the place. Knowing there is no risk of being caught, do you steal some water?

Of course this scenario is highly unlikely and unreasonable. It is supposed to be. It illustrates a conflict. It pits a biological imperative against a moral imperative. My first thought would be to take some water. My justification is that morality does me no good if I'm dead. Of course there are those that will argue about tainting of the soul and it was a test that I failed therefore I'm damned. So there never will be an answer acceptable to everyone.

This brings me to my concluding point. Despite some clear universal ideas of honor, there will always be varying perceptions because people simply have different value systems.
I think George Carlin did a great job of boiling the 10 commandments down to 2 basic commandments....

"Thou shalt always be honest and faithful to the provider of thy nookie & Thou shalt try real hard not to kill anyone, unless of course they pray to a different invisible man than you."

All of the other commandments address honor in one form or another anyway. So why not keep it simple? Keep it honest. Here he is....
Enjoy!

Life Is Precious

2009-01-02T15:01:00.002-06:00

That seems to be a message that is all too easily forgotten, despite the frequent reminders in our pop culture. There are many opportunities to be reminded of this.... every day.

Do you ever find yourself just watching people? Not even deliberately. You just catch yourself staring. Do you ever ask yourself why? Do you answer? I do. Frequently. I try to find connections between me and everyone else. I observe... I listen... I watch... and sometimes I stare. I'm the weird seclusive bald guy down the street that kids are warned to avoid. hehe
Almost everything about me is unconventional... at least for where I live. Don't get me wrong...
I love my neighborhood. I have good neighbors. But I'm the odd one out. I'm not married with kids. I live with a bunch of animals (and no I don't live in a frat house). I'm Pagan. I like to run around the house naked. I smoke pipes and cigars. I listen to weird music. I have weird books. There is really nothing obvious about me. By looking at me you can't discern my origin. By listening to me you can't tell where I was raised. By talking with me you might not be able to guess if I'm educated. You can't tell if I'm a sports fan. I have a ubiquitous look about me. I blend well. Either that or I have about 18 brothers that look like me. (Poor bastards) :-)
In short, I'm an anomaly.

So what does all this have to do with the title of this post? Well, my friends, I'll tell you...
Let's see if I can make sense of my train of thought so that I don't sound like some babbling fool stuck on the 7th floor somewhere:

One of my most prominent missions in life is to decipher the mystery of being. That is to figure out what motivates people to be who they are. Oh yeah, this gets deep. So hold on. (Feel free to bail out at any time) It is for this reason that I am so observant. That is why I study people's behavior, their mannerisms, their attire, etc. I try to figure them out in hopes of figuring out what the hell we (as a people) are doing here. I want to know. My mantra is "Seek knowledge. Wisdom follows."

So far, I've learned that there is wisdom in simplicity. There are so many movies and songs and stories that remind us to enjoy life. But we don't always live the way those stories tell us. In fact, in our western culture, we go out of our way to prove to ourselves, and those around us, that we are somehow more special... more deserving than everything else. We have forgotten that life, in of itself, is precious.
After teaching middle school science I learned a thing or two about just how fragile life is. If everyone had an inkling on an idea of how narrowly we survive... it is by a thread of the universe's web that we cling to life. And yet we thrive. As a result of this, we try to live in opulence to prove to ourselves that we belong. Its as though there is some unconscious drive to maintain our constant state of denial.
Its the simple things that make life possible in the first place. And hence, we take these simple things for granted. Just ask the farmer that hasn't seen rain in two years. Ask the fisherman whose lake dried up. Ask the Inuit who can't feed his family because the caribou left. You get the point.
This thread by which we live weaves and turns through the universe. And no one knows when this thread will break. But it will. So we ought to live as though we know this. We ought to live as though we are thankful. We ought to live as though we are fortunate, not deserving. This thread goes by many names. For people to make sense of the worlds around and within us we have to apply terms to them. This thread is known by many names: God, Allah, Goddess, Yahweh, Luck, Providence, Brahma, Elohim, Jehovah, Gaea, Verdandi, Great Spirit, and many others, I'm sure. Call it what you will, but we all live by a hairs breath.
And what a rich breath it is. It is fantastic. It is miraculous. It is fortuitous. It is beautiful. It is terrible. It is grand. It is awe-inspiring. It is what I call life.

We ought to live by the golden rule which is predominate in all belief systems. We ought to make the world a better place while we are here. This message is everywhere. We need to choose to hear it. In this age of communication and entertainment this message is delivered. These messages are delivered to us through modern day bards. People write stories and tell them in many forms. Through movies and song. Through books and stories. Someone wrote these. Someone sings these. Someone reads these. These are the bards and minstrels of today.
But they are easily dismissed as entertainers. They are more than that... (with some exceptions I'm sure.) But the message remains true. Some have delivered this message in celebrated fashion such as great books. Take the time to look a little deeper. Listen a little closer. You can hear it.

Life is precious. Live as though you know this.

Be well.

If There Is Such A Thing As Luck...

2009-01-01T23:24:00.002-06:00

... then I've experienced it.
I came home yesterday. I was in NC for Xmas and then spent a few days in Atlanta with my sister and her daughter. It was a good trip. We all had a good time. We went to the Georgia Aquarium and Stone Mountain. We zipped through the Atlanta Underground and Centennial Olympic Park.
I'll provide more detail on these in another post, but I just wanted to share the brief story of the luck that I experienced.
When I came home, I was very happy to see my critters... the dogs, the cat, the fish, the hermit crab, and of course my ..... 2(?) snakes....??? Wait a minute....
I double checked my blog to be sure that I didn't dream about the new snake.
I was no dream. And now Hiberna was gone.
What the hell....????
Apparently I didn't do a good job of securing the cover to the little enclosure I had and she got out. I don't know if I was more pissed off or sad. I called my friends (those that watched the house and kids) to ask if they knew anything or if they ever opened the enclosure. They didn't.
So I came to terms with the loss of a little young snake. For a snake as small as she is, there are a million places she could hide. I pretty much precluded any thoughts of even searching for fear of even greater disappointment. After about an hour I settled down a bit and got to thinking... it isn't likely that she went far. So if she was still here, then it would be close. It isn't as though she would make a bee line for the nearest exit. As far as she knows, this is a new and potentially dangerous world. So she would be careful and meticulously slow in her exploration. Ok, so a littler glimmer of hope was restored.
I proceeded to start at the place where her enclosure was and started looking under cushions and behind stuff. Then I thought she would likely stay in dark places. That would likely mean near edges of stuff. I worked my way behind the couch over toward the closet. Why not, its dark in there. So I opened the closet door and wouldn't you know it.... there she was. In plain sight right at eye level no less! Literally hanging around amidst a collection of unused clothes hangers.
That has to rank at the top of my list of pleasant surprises! So I put this question to you....
Is there luck? Is there karma? Or is there just circumstance? hmmm...
So my year ended on a very positive note. I've said before that 2008 was a good year for me. My 40th year on Earth was probably the best one. And since I turned 41 a couple weeks ago, my luck, as it were, seems to continue to be good. :-)
Maybe I should start playing the lotto!
Nah, why do anything differently now? I'm just happy that Hiberna wasn't lost forever. I happy that my household is filled with happy dogs, a content cat, a few well fed snakes and a hermit crab that probably could use a couple friends. Oh yeah.... and a happy master of the home that has friends and family that care about him. I'm getting all fuzzy inside!
My home truly is my castle. And my subjects are well!

May the new year bring you as much good fortune and happiness as it did for me last year.

Be well

Vrem...Vrem - Chop...Chop...Whack...Chop...Chop...Whack- Timberrrrrrrr... Crash.... Oops!

2008-12-25T00:00:00.003-06:00

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!

Be well
... and too all a good night!

Exspectata Hiberna

2008-12-21T23:27:00.010-06:00

...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!

Be well

A Good Start Today

2008-12-13T12:58:00.003-06:00

Did You See That Moon...

...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)!

Be well.

Good Learning - Good Laughs - Good Music

2008-11-24T20:55:00.003-06:00

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. :-)

Be well.

movie - boom-boom - movie - movie

2008-11-23T21:41:00.002-06:00

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.

Be well!

Do I really need a sign?

2008-11-16T23:04:00.003-06:00

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.

Ok, maybe I do need a sign.

After all, it helped Sheldon....

Be well

Boy am I glad he called!

2008-11-16T20:49:00.005-06:00

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.

What a blast!! Boy, am I glad he called!

Here's a taste of Dropkick Murphys.

Be well

R - E - S - P - E - C - T

2008-11-16T08:51:00.002-06:00

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.

See ya soon!

Be well

Is idiocy subjective?

2008-11-09T20:38:00.004-06:00

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. :-)

Be well.

Kharma... what a wonderful bitch you are. I respect you.

2008-11-02T09:14:00.002-06:00

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.

Stay safe & be well!

Seeking Catharsis

2008-10-20T18:28:00.004-05:00

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. :-)

Be well

Stephan

Entranced at Ren Fest

2008-10-15T20:38:00.003-05:00

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.

Be well.

Popcorn by cell phone...

2008-09-28T10:27:00.001-05:00

Ok... for you cell phone junkies.... do you believe this?

Pop Corn téléphone portable micro-ondes
Uploaded by sassiere

Score One for Love

2008-09-19T23:53:00.002-05:00

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 :-)

Be well

Let the Music Move You

2008-09-16T00:58:00.003-05:00

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!

Be well.

Elusive Virtues

2008-09-13T22:52:00.008-05:00

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.

We're Gonna Be OK

2008-09-11T00:41:00.002-05:00

Its inevitable.

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.

2008-09-07T14:17:00.002-05:00

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

2008-08-20T23:03:00.003-05:00

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!

Thanks for tuning in again! I appreciate it.

Be well

Din of Drums

2008-08-13T22:47:00.003-05:00

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

2008-08-09T22:56:00.003-05:00

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!

Thanks again for reading.

Be well

Friendships, Now & Then... and Now Again

2008-08-05T20:44:00.008-05:00

Here I am plunked down in front of my laptop sitting in my garage watching sweat beads roll down the side of my water glass. My own sweat has long since evaporated, courtesy of an oscillating air pusher. I spent another day (4th in a row) working in the yard with my niece. We refurbished the dog house. I think the renovations cost more than the original house! But what are you going to do? We did it up better this time, paint and all. With a 13 year old girl helping out, the house had to have colors. Blue was a must. She insisted. It stands out in the yard now. It used to humbly blend in to the background. Now it says "Pow! Look at me, I'm a colorful canine palace!" At 20 sq. ft. it is palatial, as far as pooch pads go. But I like it. It turned out nice. Now we'll have to wait and see if the new roof holds up. I'll know after the next tropical storm.

As for today's musings.... friends. For the past week or so I have been thinking a lot of my friends. Past & present. Those I'm close with now, and those that betrayed me some time ago. Then I thought of those I had lost touch with. Too many for comfort. Why do we do that?

I received a message on my Facebook account from one of those old friends. One that moved and then got married, started a family... you know, did all those grown up things. I had lost touch with her because of an ex-girlfriend. Well, my old friend found me! I was thrilled. So now we are in touch again. Cool. Very cool! A visit will be scheduled soon. :-)

But I digress... I have been thinking a lot of two particular friends, Micah & Laura. They are a young couple that were recently married. Therein lies the root of my recent reminiscence. (alliteration not intended) We've been friends for about 5 years or so. Maybe 6. It doesn't seem like it. I met Micah almost by accident. I say almost, because he was a last minute stand-in at a fund raiser to which his boss was invited. His boss sent Micah in his stead. Good call, if you ask me. Soon thereafter I met Micah's (then) girlfriend, Laura. As mentioned, they are married now. I used to tease them about that. I would tell them to hurry up and tie the knot already. They are as close to a perfect couple as I've ever seen. Of course, they might disagree, but they are humble that way. Good peeps! They are 2 of my favorite people in the world. So why am I going on about all this..... ??? Because I feel like I let them down. Yeah, I flaked at their wedding. Shame on me, I know. Especially after all the hype about getting married. I actually scribbled a message on the back of the RSVP, "I wouldn't miss it for the world.", I wrote. Oh boy.

I let personal issues get in the way and I missed the wedding. True bummer. Hence, my feelings of disappointment. Pretty easy to see why. To this day I have not called them. How much do I suck?

However, communication has been forthcoming via the digital medium. It was Micah & Laura that initiated it. Bless them. Of course the guilt rolled right in. It was there all along, but now I was faced with it. I know they won't shun me or call me bad names or anything. Like I said, they are good peeps. They are understanding and forgiving. I know this... in my head. But my heart still hurts when I think about it. Its just one of those things I will have to remedy, isn't it?

So here I go... the first step in remedying (is that a word?) my absent friendship. Are you ready for this? Oh boy... ok, here goes. (And to think I'm doing this publicly.)

I was planning on doing something kind of special at their wedding. They had no clue, in fact they won't until they see this post. It was a well kept secret. I think I only told one person... maybe 2. The plan was for me to sing a song for them. (YIKES... anyone who has heard me sing is probably rifling through their miscellaneous kitchen drawer right about now looking for ear plugs.) But I wanted to. The anxiety of that performance probably had more to do with my absence than I care to admit... but anyway, here is the next best thing... a video (I foresee snowballs in hell). The video is a little older, but its the song I wanted to dedicate to Micah & Laura at their wedding. Is my flakiness growing? But I had to do this. I had to get this out.

So, if you dare, watch the video and marvel at my lack of musical talent! But its OK. You can laugh... this time! :-) (Richard, I can hear you!)

As for you, Micah & Laura... this is love, baby! If I didn't love you, I wouldn't do this!

Best (belated) wishes to the newlyweds... from your lost friend!

There you have it, my friends.

Be well
Stephan

I'm Sorry, Spider

2008-07-31T23:01:00.000-05:00

I wept today.

I am learning to meditate. I suck at it. I suppose I will for a while. But in some other-worldy way I think I made progress. I was in a guided meditation group this evening. I was as relaxed as I could be. I was taken to a point where my loved ones are supposed to meet me. And just like last time... there were only animals. I'm not clear on how this is supposed to work... well, I have an idea. But I'm pretty fuzzy. The last time I got to this point the animlas that greeted me were my loyal compadres, Tibet, Pete, & Talbot. Today, they were there again, but also Katie showed up. Katie is the cat I had until a few years ago. Talbot never knew Katie, but Tibet & Pete did. During this visit something occured to me.

I asked myself, why are there no people? I started looking around for my grandparents. I kind of felt like my grandfather was around, or at least his influence. And suddenly I became very sad. I felt alone. I shouldn't have, but I did. My friends were there. My dogs, my last cat. My current cat, Goliath, must still be out chasing birds or something. He hasn't been around yet.
So I was wondering why I had living and dead animals there.

But then, my brain working the way it does, started analyzing. That's what I do. I analyze. They say half of analysis is anal anyway. :-)

I wasn't alone, but I felt it. Then I realized people were missing and that means something. And I think I know. So I became sad and wept.

Then came the point where my "guide" takes me to another place to meet my teacher while my loved ones waited for me at the safe place. Hmm, trouble was, there was no guide. It was my intuition telling me to go over there. So I went. I don't know if I was in the right place, but I didn't perceive any other paths. There was no teacher. There was a pool of water. I peered into the pool. I thought of the scene in LOTR where Frodo looks into the well and sees the past, present, and what has not yet come to pass. No, I didn't see Frodo or Sauron or orcs ravaging the countryside. I saw the shimmering surface of a pool that didn't reflect anything, nor did it reveal anything beneath the surface.

What was I supposed to think. I was really alone. So there goes my brain.... I'm alone because I don't let anyone in or I'm alone because there is still something I'm supposed to figure out before my guide and teacher are revealed. Or I'm alone b/c I am my own teacher (is that arrogant or what?). Hey, I can't control these ideas any more than I can control my emotions.

I was so consumed with these thoughts I lost contact w/ the group facilitator. I came out of my state to find tears pooled in my eyes and as I blinked they were squeezed out. I glanced around (I know, I cheated) and saw the others still in their places. I tried to get back and managed to find myself leaving the pool. But still alone and I felt a pang of sadness that excited my ducts again and more elixer of salty sadness dripped out onto my cheek.

My sinuses followed and for a brief moment I had to breath through my mouth. I lost focus.
I tried to get back to my safe place right about the same time the facilitator brought us back there. But this time there was something different. A totem was there with my loved ones. I was surprised, for this was new to me. What appeared actually made me feel a little better, but in the same instant I grew sad again, even more than before. This (what I'm assuming to be one of my totems) was a spider. What made me sad is the flash of memory that came to me where I mistreated a spider once as a kid. I remember it so vividly. This is one of those haunting memories that I never escape. I don't think I am meant to escape it. I actually want to keep it b/c it reminds me of what "humanity" has done our mother Earth and her children....

I remember what I did.....

I was living in El Paso. I was about 7 or 8 years old. I spent a lot of time outside as a kid. There is this mountain range running through El Paso, the Franklin Mountains. We lived close to the foothills. I would roam around these hills quite a bit and explore. This one particular day another boy & I were doing just that. We were crossing this fairly wide drainage ditch and half way across we enountered a tarantula. We freaked and bolted to the other side. So this kid and I started throwing rocks at it from a distance. This is when I regret having a good aim. We must have hurled about 30 rocks at this spider. Poor thing, it was so exposed in the middle of the concrete ditch and it was getting pelted by stones whichever direction it tried to run. First it would tumble once or twice when we hit it. Soon a leg fell off, then another and before too long it was motionless with only 2 or 3 of its legs attached. The others were scattered. A couple of the legs were torn in two. The other boy and I celebrated. We were real heroes. We vanquished the evil master of terror! I was just a kid. A stupid, pudgy little kid with a good arm.

That event is a conerstone in my memory bank as a life changing event. It didn 't change my life then. But it did later. If that was supposed to be some sacrifice for me to learn the value of life and all Earth's creatures (except mosquitos... hey, gotta draw the line somewhere) then its a crappy lesson. It hurts me still. I still weep when I think of that spider.

So is this why the spider appeared to me? Is this a message? Is this the spider telling me that "Hey, kid. You were young and stupid, but you are the better for it now." I don't know but I sure hope so. Because, truthfully, I'm an advocate for spiders now. I have been for many years. I think they, like snakes, have endured despite being so wrongfully maligned for so many centuries. Some lessons hurt.

I'm sorry Spider. I won't do it again. I promise.

Sorry about the delay :-)

2008-07-28T10:11:00.000-05:00

Hey all. I finally got around to finishing Talbot's Tale. I'm sorry it took so long. It was more than a week ago that I presented the third installment. I had family come in from out of town, and I spent the weekend at the beach. More on that next time. But for now... check out the last chapter of Talbot's Tale. Thanks again for visiting! It means a lot to me!

Have a great day!

Be well

Stephan

Talbot's Tale: Family

2008-07-28T08:40:00.000-05:00

You have seen the improvement thus far. He has come quite along quite nicely, wouldn't you say? He was actually looking forward to meals now. He was excited to see me or the other dogs, although he wasn't able to socialize until around mid December. Looking back at previous posts, I realized that I said Talbot was quarantined until January. Well, to be more precise... he was still in the crate until January, but already socializing. Sorry about the mix up.

It was at this point that I started to look for a home for Talbot. I spread the word. My search began in earnest once Talbot had no more bald patches. He walked around with a perpetual smile. He was crate trained and potty trained and (to this day) had no "accidents" in the house. He was ready to go to a good home.

Here, take a look... would you be interested?

Irresistible, huh! I mean come on!

Who wouldn't want to take this guy home.

His tail was a virtual perpetual motion machine when people were around. He got along great with other dogs. Get him now while he is young, I said.

I brought the crate inside, but not before giving it a thorough scrubbing, thrice!

I thought about burning a box of incense in there, but as it turned out it wasn't necessary. If you ever need to get the smell of mange out of a crate, use bleach... lots of bleach. And be sure to be in a well ventilated area outside. And please wear goggles and a respirator. I figured that out the hard way. So in cleaning the crate, I looked something like this....

Ok, so I didn't actually wear the hat, but I thought it would be cool for effect! And that towel thingy on my scalp... yeah, I didn't actually wear that either. :-)

But I digress.

So I get the crate all cleaned up. After much deliberation I put it in the living room. I was expecting a real yelp-fest that first night.

It started right on cue.... 90 seconds after "lights out". The scratching of the wall, the high pitched yelping which in human translates to "Hey moron, you forgot about me in here! Hey you.... yeah you I don't wanna be in here!." After a few stanzas of the canine lament, he changes strategy. He goes from the "I'm a pathetic wretch" whimpering, to the "Calling all Canines" to the rescue approach. Something between a bark and short howl in a pitch just high enough to let all dogs from here to Toronto know that a puppy is desperately needing aid.

So here I am, in my bed, listening to this. Despite expecting this to happen, I'm still annoyed. Tibet & Pete didn't budge. Pete slept. How the hell he could sleep through this racket I will never know, but he slept. You won't be seeing Pete on the cover of "Rescue Dogs Today" anytime soon. Tibet, on the other hand, lay there with her jaw on her front paws and her eyes fixed on me. Uh-huh... yeah you know the look. Its the same look a dog gives you right before he goes to pee on the rug... the "If you don 't do something about this..." look.

I told her to be expecting this. She finally sighed and rolled to her side and tried to sleep, but just couldn't. Pete, on the other hand, was probably chasing rabbits or something. He was gone. His paws would twitch every so often, but he didn't wake up.

Too bad, Talbot. No dogs are coming to your rescue tonight. I'm not sure how long it took for Talbot to give up, but it really wasn't so bad. He quit after about 15 minutes. Seriously, all that drama was in a short amount of time. (Thankfully!) So I was impressed. (still annoyed)

Talbot continued the routine the next night, but by the 3rd night, he was quiet after about 15 seconds of pawing at the gate. I thought he would be mad at me in the mornings, but he wasn't. He was Talbot. He was happy to see me. His tail was wagging and he was smiling. He greeted me first then went to Pete & Tibet. They all went outside and did their business. That in itself was kind of amusing. Maybe one day I'll tell you guys about Brazos, the "Crap eater" as I called him. Yeah, he was a character... but that's another story. Back to Talbot...

So he was getting along with Pete & Tibet. I started taking them on walks. I was thinking about how easy it would be to find this guy a home. He's potty trained, gets along well with others, leash trained. Not to mention he was cute as hell. Just look above again... see what I mean? Who wouldn't? Right...? Well..... not so fast, Speed Racer!

The first time I had friends come over while Talbot was in he house he freaked. I was not ready for this. My mother made regular visits. Remember that she was there from day one... well, two actually... but you get the point. So he was cool with her. But not so cool with new people.

Oh boy. Problem.

Damn! I thought. He was doing so well. And he was. There was a hitch, though. Call it the fine print. He was horribly afraid of new people or dogs. I thought of what he looked like when I found him and rapidly came to the conclusion that he was that way b/c of people in the first place. Now what?

So begins the slow process of socializing. This created a problem when it came to finding a home for him. I'm cynical by nature. I half expect things to go wrong. And unless I'm totally convinced that someone could provide the right home environment for this guy, I wasn't handing him over. I had to be sure. Especially after all we endured and what he's been through. Poor guy. He needed structure and love. It didn't really strike me at the time... but he was getting that at my house. That is why he was doing well at home. Hindsight is always 20/20.

I did what I could to take him out and have more friends come over. He did improve. In fact, just recently, when I went to the VHPA reunion, I had a friend help me out by feeding my critters in my absence. Chris had never been to my house before. So a few days before my trip, Chris came by to meet the kids and learn where everything is. Of course Talbot was nervous, but even to my surprise, he had his head on Chris's lap inside of 20 minutes. Progress!

Of course Talbot is 3 years old now and has been exposed to numerous animals and people. He still requires caution, but he is soooooo much better. Much less nervous around strangers. Some new dogs he hardly notices.

Well, in case you haven't noticed the obvious here, I kept him. Yeah, yeah, people who know me say they saw it coming. Despite my efforts, I kept the rascal. My mother put a flyer up at the athletic club, I placed an ad in the paper. I send out emails with pictures at the office to about 200 people. I really tried. But for those who believe in fate or providence, here is a story that supports your belief. :-) It isn't a bad thing. He is a good dog.

So, my friends. Once again I come to the end of a tale... Talbot's Tale. And now I bid you a fond adieu with some parting shots.... here you go, folks....

Presenting Talbot: Family

Talbot's Tale: All better!

2008-07-21T12:24:00.000-05:00

Welcome back my friends. I'm glad you returned for the 3rd installment of Talbot's Tale. (One more to go)

Talbot was making progress nicely. The stink (I can still smell it) was waning gradually, though not fast enough. Talbot looked a little better every day. He was eating regularly, and of course this means it was coming out the other end rather regularly as well. Can you say "P-Yew"? The possums kept watching him from the distance... "Is he one of ours?" I'm sure they were wondering. :-) Pepe Le Pieu would have been proud! Of course his newly implemented diet, when mixed with his treatment regimen of dips & meds, left for a unique blend of ... ahem.... poop. (Can I say scat for dogs too?)

Despite that, he was recovering nicely. His fur was starting to grow in. The sores were getting smaller. His demeanor was becoming more and more like a dog should be... happy. It brought great joy to watch this. I couldn't wait to get home from work each day. I looked forward to playing with him and teaching him things... like to sit & stay (I said, SIT)... basic stuff. It got to the point that I could hear his tail knocking on the wall of the kennel when I got out of my truck. What a good boy!

Here is another video after we agreed on his name:

You can almost see the smile! Here are a couple pics:

His cuteness is really starting to show. Here is another video of a more active Talbot. He really enjoyed going places. I was walking him now and taking to visit my mother. She was always happy to see him.

Despite his progress, I still had to wait a while longer before I could socialize him. But he certainly was eager to meet the rest of the family! And they him. :-) What a proud papa I was!

As the weeks passed, we had our white xmas. Unfortunately I wasn't able to take him out with the other dogs yet, but he still got to experience the snow.

Talbot was learning where the poop stations are in the yard. I was busy enough picking up after 2 dogs. Now I had a 3rd one added to my poop-patrol. I was running a regular crap factory! Too bad there is no market for this stuff. At least horse and cow manure is sought after. Maybe I should post a sign in my yard, "Crappus a la Cannis Available Here. We Poop it, You Scoop It!" Kind of catchy, don't you think? :-)

With the little stinker not so stinky any more, I would let him roam the house while Tibet & Pete were outside. When I was out front w/ Talbot, he nuzzle the fence to greet the other dogs on the other side. Pete's (remember the lethal weapon tail?) response was one of excitement! He gave Tibet a few good whacks upside her muzzle with his tail when Talbot was close. Poor Tibet... she wanted to get a look at the little rascal too, but Pete's convulsive tail-shaking made it a real obstacle course for her to approach the gate. It was kind of funny to watch her try to duck under his tail with her eyes squinted. She still got batted a few times.

Finally, the time was nigh for the dogs to meet. I think I was more nervous than the dogs. Talbot couldn't wait. Pete was anxious to try out the new toy. Tibet just wanted to see what all the hooplah was about.

So, once again, my friends, I leave you with some anticipation (I hope) for the final installment of Talbot's Tale: Family.
Until then,
Be well,

Stephan

Talbot's Tale: Recovery

2008-07-19T14:00:00.000-05:00

Talbot’s Tale: Recovering

I’m back & apparently you are too. Are you ready for the next installment of Talbot’s Tale? I left off with the inauguration of Talbot’s name. He seemed to like it. After all, he looked at me when I said it. Then again, he looked at me when I called him “Numb-nuts” too. The important thing here, is that he responds. I was happy for that. He was responsive, albeit, a little delayed at times. It was kind of hard to watch this guy constantly scratching himself. I just wanted to grab a rake and do it for him. He seemed so delicate. I picked him up frequently and gave him hugs (despite the rammish odor) from time to time. It didn’t take long for him to relax when I handled him. He got used to my camera. I think he actually posed sometimes. Like in the pic…

It was one of the few times he sat still long enough for me to press the shutter button. While he was recovering, this crate was his home. He looked so sad in there. It was bad enough to be itchy, flaky, and scratchy. Then to be cooped up in this glorified gerbil cage is no more thrilling than watching paint dry. He couldn’t get well fast enough. I knew he would get better. But admittedly, there was a part of me that liked this because it gave me a sense of purpose. Call it my maternal instinct, if you will. I liked caring for him. I liked being there for every step of his recovery. And apparently I liked crispy flakey canine skin on my clothes, because some of my shirts looked like glitter had been sprinkled over them.

I let him out as much as I could. He seemed clever. He figured out the parameters of the yard pretty quickly. He was responsive to my voice. Good sign. He will make a great companion for someone one day. I thought to myself. Even then, I did not intend to keep him. I already had 2. And I really didn’t want a 3rd… really. But I wasn’t about to hand over a sickly pup. I had to see his recovery through.

Also, here is the first video I took of Talbot… but he wasn’t named at the time. The video gives you a better idea of what watching this guy was like. Mind you, this was going on for weeks. I brought him home in October. This was about 3 weeks later. He still had a long way to go. But I tell you, I never had children, but this was probably the closest I have ever felt to actually raising someone. I had little proud moments whenever he showed progress. Each day was one day closer to him being better and eventually a healthy dog. But also, each day brought a little more warmth to my heart.

Remember in the last post when I said I’m not sure who is luckier? Maybe now you understand a little better. As much as I cared for him… he did something for me. I learned something about the capacity for love in my own heart. Don’t get me wrong… It isn’t as though my heart was empty or full of malice. It was nothing like that. What I learned through Talbot was simply this: No matter how much we have in our hearts, whether joy or sadness, whether hope or despair, or even iniquity… there can always be love. One can’t ever be truly sated from love. At least I don’t think so. There is always room for more.

So, my friends, this concludes Talbot’s second chapter. Tune in next time… (I’ve always wanted to say that) for the next installment. You will see Talbot as he is now. Trust me… you won’t believe the difference!

Thank you again for taking the time to read this. I really mean it when I say I appreciate it. It means a lot to me that you take time out of your day for this. I hope you find some pleasure in reading my stories. I enjoy writing them and sharing.

Until next time,
Be Well

Stephan

About Talbot

2008-07-17T10:42:00.000-05:00

I don't know who is luckier, him or me. In fact, my mother tried to name him "Lucky" the first time she saw him. I was trying to avoid naming him at all... you know... trying to avoid that whole attachment thing. Yeah.... that went well! :-)
Anyway, so here's the story....

It was a chilly October morning in 2004. I usually got to work around 7:30AM. I never cared for the morning rush hour traffic so I would leave a little early. It gave me time to relax and have some coffee and read emails before starting to see clients. My office was in the 6 points area, to give you a point of reference. I parked and started walking toward the building, like any other day. After my ritual adjusting of the shoulder harness with one hand and leveling the shaky coffee cup in the other I glanced toward the old (no longer used) exterior elevator door just a bit over to the right of the employee entrance. Did I see right? I thought I saw a subtle fuzzy movement. Naturally, me being of the curious sort, walked over and there.... huddled in a corner and shivering, was this puppy. This poor pathetic wretch of a young dog was struggling to keep out of the wind, which was exacerbated by his lack of protective coat. In fact I had more hair than him. Have you seen me lately? As I crouched toward him his head lowered while eyes stared up at me in utter fear. All the while his front paws struggling for traction against the smooth concrete as he was trying to push himself further into the corner. Poor guy. As I took a step closer still it hit me... WHOA !!! the stench of decay. This little guy needed a couple of rounds in the permanent press cycle with double rinse. I figured a little fabric softener wouldn't hurt :-) My first thought was how could something this little emit an odor so large? Then I thought of new parents and what similar experiences they have w/ their newborns. At any rate.... About this time I aroused the curiosity of one of my coworkers on her way in, also with arms full and juggling the less secure items. Good thing that Courtney also loves animals. I took my stuff inside for a moment while Courtney watched the pup. When I returned she either coaxed or frightened the pup out of its corner as he was walking down the gently sloping loading ramp. He was walking along the edge and peering over the side. His ears swiveled a bit. He had some life left. I honestly wasn't sure as to how much at that time... He looked over the edge like I would be looking off a 10 meter diving platform... with concern for falling, but not really worried if I do. I had some rope in my car and I fashioned a rather crude, but functional, harness for the little squirt. With Courtney's help and excellent lung capacity from holding my breath, I managed to get the harness on the little tyke. ( what he must have been thinking ) Then I noticed the fleas. They had a real community going on there. I swear I saw neon lights, "Buffet. Open All Night" So... here I had this stinky, sparsely pelted, flea bag tied to a rail in the parking lot. What the hell was I gonna do with him for 9 hours? I couldn't take him in. I certainly wasn't going to leave him in my truck. So Courtney and I monitored over the course of the day to make sure he had water. There was always someone in the building with a little kibble around. That part of town is Stray-Central. So, here you go... this is the as yet unnamed dog I found.

So I called my mom and told her the news. I then called my vet and explained the situation but there was no way they could get the runt in that day. So I made an appt for the next day. Since I had to work I asked my mom if she could take him. She was reluctant, but agreed (thanks, Mom). So that evening I set up little stinker in the kennel in the garage. Meanwhile, my other two were looking on curiously from the safe confines of the back yard. You'll meet them in more detail later. Now, keep in mind, when I was little, my (older) sister used to call me "Stinker" all the time. Now she calls her dogs "Stinker". I'm off the hook :-). I used to think it was a term of endearment, but after experiencing this with this puppy, I began to wonder. hehe
So here I have this funky odor machine cranking out maximum stink by the minute in my garage. I didn't fully appreciate the capacity for, nor the gap from stink to putrid! When I opened the door into the garage the next morning I damn near fell over. Holy StenchFest, Batman!! I swear to god my testicles retreated somewhere behind my spleen and wouldn't come out for a week! I wasn't sure if I should feel sorry for my mom or laugh at her for what she was about to endure. The good news in all this... the puppy was still alive. He was sitting up and moving around. He was not eating but he was drinking water. That was something.

I let the dog out and he peed in the grass. He slowly and carefully moved about the driveway and yard. He would twitch a little with every new noise. All I could do was shake my head and give him space. I wondered what this kid saw in his young life. And I mean young. You saw the pic. Maybe 8 or 10 weeks old? As I left for work I left the garage door a little open so the pup could see out. Ahh, whose kidding who, it was to ventilate!

My mom took him to the vet. Apparently one of the customers passed out from the pups stink. (kidding) But I'm surprised my mom didn't. And she had him in her car! Anyway, I was afraid to call my mom to see how it went. The vet wasn't too crazy about providing treatment without pay... at least not not until I got off work. But since my mother promised them that I would come by to pay after work that day they agreed. I mean, why not, I've been going there for over 10 years already. I guess they have problems with people dropping strays off and never returning.

Well, my mom's first comment (predictably) was "Och Mein Gott!" Of course we all know what she was referencing! Yeah, yeah, mom... I know. He stinks. "He is so cute" she said. I laughed. Yes... he is cute. But he is sick and I need to get him well. As it turned out, he was sick. He had Sarcoptic Mange. Aka Scabies. It is contagious to animals AND people. Great! Just what I need, My love life sucked as it was and now I had to worry about skin flaking off my body. How attractive! :-)
It was ok, though. Just had to wash hands a lot. A LOT! I had to take the critter to the vet every other week for a medicated dip and other treatments as his health improved. He had to remain in quarantine for about 3 months. This included the white Christmas we had. Poor kid, had to stay in the garage while I took my other dogs to frolic in the South Texas snow. But he got to play in the yard. Little by little I introduced the guy to the yard while I kept Tibet & Pete inside. Of course they would be at the storm door watching every step the little guy made. Pete's tail was already registered as a weapon. Seeing a new pup to play with only reinforced that registration :-).

So as I watched the pup get better I started thinking about names. In fact, the first few receipts from the vet had "Lucky" as his name. My mom told them that is what she calls him. Yeah, I guess it fits, but it isn't original. So I pondered. I was leaning toward Anton. I slept on it a few days. I am real thorough when it comes to deciding on things that will be permanent. I don't want to regret it later. Then I had all but decided... when the little guy was keeping me company as I was smoking a cigar in my front yard and I looked at him... he looked at me. He smiled and somehow "Talbot" came into my head like lightning. I scratched behind his ear and asked him what he thought. He walked a small circle as if contemplating. Then he sat in the same spot again and looked at me and smiled. So there you have it my friends... Introducing "TALBOT" (to be cont.)

Be well,
Stephan

Good Day

2008-07-15T17:08:00.000-05:00

Today has been a good day so far. Actually the past few days have been good. Today I set my alarm early and by 7:15 I was beach bound with my little buddy, Talbot. I like going in the mornings before it gets too hot. The beach was carpeted with 25' wide swath of sea weed. At some points I sank into it up to my knees. Good thing I'm not squeamish. There was an abundance of crabs scuttling about. Some so small I could barely catch a glimpse as they darted around. Other as big as big as my outstretched hand. They didn't dart so much as scurry. Talbot was appropriately curious. He did well. There were few people around so he wasn't nervous. He minded well. He would trot off a little ways ahead and pause to look back to make sure I wasn't too far behind. I get the impression he thought I was too slow. Sorry little buddy, but I'd like to see how fast you move when you're 40! hehe By 10:00 we were packing up (Yes, I'm aware I said "we" as if he helped) I started sweating by 9:30.... just from sitting there. The water was warm, but I didn't spend much time there. Talbot was quite nervous as I went into waist deep water. So upon our return, I put Talbot inside the house and I commenced to doing some cleaning & mowing in the yard. By 2:00 it had been a very productive day. I rewarded myself with a nice 2 hour nap. So now I'm contemplating my evening. I think I will watch "The Golden Compass". I haven't watched it yet and I just d-loaded it. But I might go out with a friend. I called a friend and told him we have cause to celebrate and he needs to buy me a beer. Of course, I left him hanging as to why. I said he would have to wait until I have that beer! I'm so shrewd! hehe

As I was writing about Talbot, I got to thinking, I will do a little series on my critters for you. And I will start with Talbot since I have been talking about him. But I will do that later. For now, I will keep this light. :-)
Yes, it has been a good day.

Be well,
Stephan

Last installment for the 361st (corrections within)

2008-07-13T21:00:00.000-05:00

I left off talking about meeting Lash. He's the guy that Mike was kidding about being my dad's gay lover. When I met Lash I asked him if my Dad was gentle. Woody seemed to think it was pretty funny. Lash cracked up too. I guess its good when all can laugh at the same thing. That's the way it was with these guys... they all felt the same thing. One of the events I attended while at the VHPA reunion was a breakfast for KIA/MIA family members. I guess there were about 40 attendees. Including one fellow (and I feel badly for forgetting his name now...sorry) who lost his father when he was 11 months old. So he had even less time w/ his dad than I did. But we shared some questions. Simple things, really... was my dad left or right handed? Did he like meatloaf? Stuff like that. These are the kinds of things people know about their family. Not us.

Many thanks to Susan Kleinfelter (was I close?) [ Ok, I stand corrected... its Susan Clotfelter Jimison. Sorry Susan :-) ] who made sure that she made time to talk with me. She was/is amazingly supportive & compassionate. She lost her older brother in Vietnam. So she & a friend started this organization that tries to locate family of lost vets and help them learn about each other and other support systems. [ Susan reminded me she didn't help start the organization. Again I erred. Well, dammit... can I get anything right? hehe. I guess Susan should have started it then... yeah, that works... she should have started it! ]
Its really a cool deal. All this goes back to Hal calling me in the first place. Thanks again Hal. I hope you are reading this. I hope you & Linda were serious about the invitation to Florida. :-) I might take you up on it one day! hehe

Anyway... I need to bring this chapter to a close soon. There have been events occuring here that I want to record. The guys from the 361st "Pink Panthers" rocked. They were (are) an amazing bunch. One thing, though... I don't think anyone ever told them the frat party is over. LOL

I have to give huge thanks to Hal, Woody, Dana, John, Mike, & Lash. Also, I am grateful to Susan. And finally, I have to say thank you to Rich & Tish Snook who went out of their ways to make me feel welcome comfortable in their home. Rich told me something that stuck with me... When I was apologetic for putting him out for picking me up and dropping me off, he said (in reference to a 4th of July party he was attending) "What you're doing is more important than a hot dog." I guess that's one of those times that you don't realize the impact of what we do and say. Thanks Rich... you made a memory for me!

Thanks to all for reading. I'll be going back to current events soon!
Until then...
Be well,
Stephan

Meeting the guys from the 361st

2008-07-07T11:21:00.000-05:00

If you haven't read the post entitled "At The Reunion" then stop. You need to read that first so you can follow.

I left off with my introduction to Woody. Remember, "...goosebumps....." Yeah... some serious goosebumps! They were quite visible. Even Woody noticed and apologized. I smiled and told him no apology was necessary. It was a good thing.
The 1st moment was weird. Here is a guy that knew my dad. How is this supposed to work? I wondered. But it actually was easy. Woody went straight to the night my dad crashed. He started telling me about the search for the chopper.

( I'm worried about this post becoming way too long for anyone to want to read, so I will hit the highlights and introduce the guys. I'll figure out a way to share the details through video. I took video of the guys talking about my father and the search operation, but I don't know what the size limits are. One of the videos is kind of long. We'll see. But for now, let me at least introduce the guys that knew my dad.)

As mentioned, the first one I met was Woody. Woody was always smiling. He struck me as a fellow that enjoys and appreciates life. I suppose living in Florida contributes to the laid back approach to living! He was a lot of fun to talk with and he was always gracious and respectful. A joy to be around! After chatting a little while he pointed to John. John knew my dad too. John was more soft spoken. Not as outgoing, but no less respectful. Really nice man. I didn't get to visit with John as long. He didn't have as much interaction with my dad, but he was one of the 1st 2 choppers launched to search for my dad (if I am remembering correctly) John is the guy in the middle of the picture of 3 guys. John told me he remembers "that night" very well. He described feeling a black cloud settling in over Camp Holloway when my father didn't show up when he was supposed to.
Let me apologize now if I get something mixed up. I took in a LOT of information between Thursday & Saturday. I'll make corrections as needed. Now, back to the guys. Then there was Mike. Another real nice guy... a little louder than the others :-)
Very generous fellow. I thoroughly enjoyed talking with Mike. He's the guy that saw to it that I was attending the banquet (which I hadn't planned on attending). One thing I can say about Mike, he likes to hear himself talk! I think he'd admit that. Then I met Dana. Dana was probably the most eloquent speaker of the bunch. I loved listening to his stories. He has a great story-telling voice and he placed emphasis and pauses in just the right places. Great story teller! Dana was one of the 2nd pair of pilots launched to search for my dad. He and Woody flew out together that night after Lash & John had to return to camp b/c of mechanical trouble. Their helicopters didn't have enough power to negotiate the weather safely. Later Woody and Dana had to land at an Air Force field due to mechanical problems too. In fact, Woody's compressor stalled out around 11,000 feet. (That's a good story in itself! I'll call that one "Steak or Lobster?" Boy, am I glad I have these tales on video!) Dana's story about his end of the search was amusing. Even under the ominous atmosphere surrounding my father's crash, there was humor to be found. The last fellow I met was perhaps the most talkative! This was Lash. He laughed and smiled a lot! Mike told me a little about Lash before I met him. One of the first things Mike told me was, "You know that your father was gay, right?" There was some chuckling among the ranks. Then he continued, "Lash was his lover in Vietnam." That was followed by considerable laughter, including mine. (Sorry, Mom. It was all in jest.) Keep in mind, this was Thursday and I didn't meet Lash until Friday. And he wasn't around to hear this either. So he didn't know. It was all pretty funny. I'll share the outcome later... that is funny as well. I need to bring this to a close for now. Needless to say, I was now looking forward to meeting Lash. But not just for the joke... but because Lash was my dad's roommate.

Thanks for taking the time to read this tale as it unfolds. Until the next time...
be well.

At the VHPA Reunion

2008-07-03T19:50:00.000-05:00

Well, my 1st day at the reunion has been really good. But those words do nothing to capture the meaning of today's events. I had the proverbial butterflies in my stomach as I approached the hotel. My friend, Joy, dropped me off at the side entrance. People wearing yellow lanyards with a name tag dangling were buzzing about the busy entranceway. I knew I was in the right place, even before I noticed the VHPA printed on the lanyards. I had to ask where the registration desk was and was directed to the 3rd floor. There the lobby was even more thickly populated with people casually glancing about the room while talking to one another and holding a beer in the other hand. Posters and flyers were posted throughout the halls and around the registration desk. One of the first things I noticed was a poster of Jane Fonda from some 80s aerobic exercise video with darts sticking in it. You kind of need to know the story to understand that. (But that is not my story) Fortunately, there was no one waiting behind me, so the girl working the desk had time to answer my (what must have seemed trivial) questions. I scanned the flyer of events and selected what I wanted to attend. Fortunately, those I selected were free. After a $70 registration fee, anything free was welcome! But I really can't complain. I was sent over to another table where a lady named Kate would print my name tag. As I was waiting in line there, another lady calling out names of people whose tags were ready, called out for Mr. Manns. Was I hearing correctly? I wondered. Being nosey, I leaned forward for a closer look at the name tag as the gentleman picked it up. Sure enough, by George (whoever that is) it was Hal Manns. He's the guy that got me into this whole thing in the first place. I say that like its a bad thing. But what I meant, is that Hal is the fellow that called me last fall. He's the one that told me about the VHPA and the reunion. He's the one that did much of the leg work for the book about the Pink Panthers. He's the REASON that I am here. And lo & behold... here he was right next to me getting his name tag right next to me. Amazing! I tapped him on the shoulder and said, "Excuse me, Sir." He turned to look and I continued, "Are you Hal Manns?" Even though I knew the answer, it seemed the appropriate thing. He didn't even get a chance to answer beyond a brief nod as his jaw began to drop to say "yes", when I said, "I'm Stephan Makintaya." and his eyes warmed. We shook hands and any uncertainty about where I would go next was gone. Talk about a small world. He made sure I had his cell # and gave me the suite # for the Stickett Inn... the Pink Panther suite. Gotta love that name! Shortly after I found myself in the elevator on my way to the 37th floor. I exited the elevator, turned the corner... and just as I was looking for room numbers, I couldn't help but notice the Stickett Inn sign posted next to the door and a 4 foot tall picture of cinemas favorite fuchsia feline. That had to be it. I approached the door, steadied myself and listened for a moment. It was quiet in there. I thought that from this moment on, my life might be different. Let's see if I can put this in perspective for you... You know how when you gather with people that talk about family & friends, they share stories. "My mother did this the other day, oh and my brother... guess what he did... My Aunt is now living...."
and so on. You get the idea. Well, I can do that too, until I get to my Dad. So when it comes time to share stories, I can share with the best of them... except for my dad. There is a gaping white blank of nothing where one would find the stories of my dad. So think of this going through my mind right before I push the door open to the Stickett Inn. I expected to meet someone that knew my dad... finally. So I slowly open the door and there was no one immediately visible. I took a step inside and three or four people were to my left. Among them was Hal. Once again... he was in the right place at the right time. :-) He greeted me again and led me to this smiling fellow. Hal introduced me to Woody. Woody smiled, gave me a firm handshake and said, "I knew your dad." ....... goosebumps......

Heading Out

2008-07-03T00:14:00.000-05:00

Its about 12:15 AM on Thursday, July 3. I'm thinking about my trip tomorrow (today). Somewhere along the way, I got a little sentimental about all those men & women that willingly go into a foreign & hostile place, so they can defend what they, and millions of their countrymen, believe... even if they don't agree with the belief. So they defend the right for man to believe what he wants. In honor of those soldiers, especially those in Vietnam, I am posting this video. Enjoy & remember.

...here we are

2008-07-02T12:47:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I set up my blog w/ Lilo's help. As I'm learning about the tools I will be trying things. But at present, I'm a bit nervous. I suspect that I will be more nervous tomorrow... you see, I will be taking a little trip...... (<--- dots are for dramatic effect) Did it work?

Anyway... I will be going to San Antonio tomorrow. I might actually meet somone that knew my father. You see, I really didn't know him. I was 3 years old when he died. He was an Army pilot in Vietnam and crashed. There is an association of Vietnam helicopter pilots that have an annual reunion. It started yesterday and goes until Sunday, July 6. I learned about it recently when I received a phone call from seemingly nowhere... a friendly fellow named Hal. (I hope he doesn't mind my using his name). Hal also flew in Vietnam and was looking around for survivors and family members from Vietnam Vets. Then he found me. Through him I learned about the association and the reunion. I will spare you the boring details of the emails and phone calls, but suffice it to say, Hal, and others, have been very supportive and informative. I was invited to attend. How could I say no. So now I will. We will see...

2008-07-01T15:09:00.000-05:00

2008-07-01T14:39:00.001-05:00

It was truly stirring to experience and welcome the Solstice in with this group. I met a couple of new people, and hopefully we will see more of them very soon.

With that said....

24 hours after our celebration I returned to the spot with 2 close friends. The remaining wood was still basking on the beach. The pit was still occupied with the charred remains of the wood that served as a vehicle for our celebration. Two foil-wrapped cobs of corn saw one more day on the edge of the pit. As I reached into the sands of the pit, I discovered warm embers still struggling for air... the precious air it needs to spring to life.

As I dug and stirred a little more, faint wisps of smoke emerged and circled my face, beckoning me to stir the coals and bring life back to the fire. While my friends were unpacking the truck, I wondered if it wasn't too late...

Slowly I pulled the blackened pieces up from the suffocating sand. One by one, the deeper I reached, the warmer the pieces became. To my pleasant surprise, a few were actually too warm to handle for more than a second or two.

That made me smile. Perhaps there was hope.

Almost on cue, winds off the water turned toward me at the edge of the pit. "Was this a message?" I wondered. Who was I to deny the pit a chance to one more blaze under the sparkling canopy of Summer's second night?

I gathered kindling I had brought and carefully aligned the coals & kindling with the channel that someone dug into the pit (Kurt, I presume :-) )
My friends were unfolding lawn chairs and settling into them as I coaxed the elements of Earth & Air to bring their companion, Fire, to the pit. I promised to introduce Water later if they would provide us with one more night of light in the dark. It took some convincing... but with the help of one of Fire's cousins, Match, we were greeted by a gust of channeled air at just the right time, and shortly thereafter, the pit was dark no more.
As if jumping out and reaching into the sky, fire sprang to life. A long stretch of flame leaned toward me and licked at me briefly as if to say "Thank You" for its resurrection. I thought of the Phoenix. I thought of the Hindu. I

thought of my friends. And I thought of you.

After the fire settled into a steady rhythm, I placed the wrapped cobbed corn near the edge and waited patiently for the reborn fire to rewarm the corn. My friends thought I was a little crazy as I pulled the corn from the fire and proceeded to unwrap the first. I planned on sharing, of course, but my companions appeared a bit squeamish at the thought of eating corn that had been left exposed to the elements for 24 hours, garbed in foil, or not! I thought to myself, "More for me!"

As I disrobed the first cob and peeled back the husk, the scented warmth must have wafted toward my friends.

Their noses perked and as they observed my delight with my first bite, their apparent squeamishness was suddenly a thing of the past. I had to share, after all! :-)
All was well for the second night. The only thing that could have been better... is if you were there again!

Thank you all. I look forward to the next time we gather!

Be well!

Stephan