As we settle into the election process for the most powerful person in the world (maybe) I just can't get myself to feel much except embarrassment. Really? This is the best we can do? A bunch of used tissues that know how to put down the competition and do it readily with lots of money that comes from. . . .where do you reckon?
But the headline says Actress stuns in plunging lace gown!
You don't really still believe in a democracy sort of thing where one person gets one vote and those elected actually care about individuals? I mean, you actually know that whole idea is a unicorn, right? Pay no attention to those corporations behind the curtain. It's so much easier that way.
Who will continue on American Idol?
My spring flowers are blooming. It's January. I'm so relieved to remember that global warming is just a bit of liberal propaganda! Whew! And really, as far as I know there is no such thing as a Polar Bear anyway. And even if they do exist, what have they done for me lately?
New evidence proves Big Foot is in charge of Area 51!
The sheriff of a neighboring county has publicly encouraged women to get concealed weapons permits and stay armed. A customer in a waffle house saw a young man demanding cash from the cashier. The customer pulled his weapon and shot the young man dead. No charges were filed, but the customer got his breakfast for free.
Photograph shows Dalai Lama eating cheese burger!
In the past year there was legislation proposed in at least one state to outlaw fast food restaurants from giving toys away in kids' meals because it encouraged childhood obesity. No one seemed to realize that children seldom drive themselves to the drive thru. More importantly, what we teach in school cafeterias is vastly different from what we teach in nutrition and health classes. But dang, vegetables are expensive, aren't they? I mean, I heard they were.
The one cosmetic surgery you can't afford to go without!
The free clinic isn't taking new patients. They are over-burdened and certainly underfunded. But the emergency room down the street is taking the overflow. Oh, sure, it's the most expensive health care in the Universe, but so what? Wait. . . . who ends up paying for that in the end? We don't have a broken health care system, but those without insurance have no health care system at all.
Eight herbs that can help you live to 100!
How much do you reckon we spend on law enforcement to make sure no one smokes cannabis, a plant that's been considered medicinal for millennia? Can't be that much, right? Besides, I heard it leads to hard drug use. Why can't those people just have a martini like normal people?
It's a miracle! Picture of Jesus found in stain on mental hospital floor
I don't pretend that supporting a big fancy building that sits empty most of the week makes me a better person or that it helps the community one iota. But it might help me keep my job. Let's just come out with it, it's got more to do with Benjamin than Jesus.
But hey, if you want to pretend that money doesn't buy elections, that anyone with a will to succeed in America can do so, that Jesus will save you from obesity, or that the tooth fairie is going to make your next mortgage payment; you just go right ahead. It's all right. It's all right.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Frosty Roads
It was in the seventh grade that I first read The Road Not Taken, by Robert Frost. At first read it was the image of being in leafy woods, alone with Nature, that drew me closer. I could smell the leaves, yellow and brown and I drew a still closer. The air was crisp and once I reached down to feel the softness of the grass I couldn't help myself . I tumbled headlong into that poem and have never really left it.
A bit older than when I first fell into the poem, but certainly not wise, I truly believed there was one best road for me and if I looked carefully enough I would see which one it was. They all looked good to me then. And although I couldn't see what lay beyond the bend in the road, there was no reason to believe that it would be anything less perfect than what I could see from that painless vantage.
And so we, my friends and I, like woodland faeries scattered with the breeze. Some landed well. They found destinations. But I wasn't ready for a destination, and I thought that I could always find my way back to where the roads split and make a different choice. It couldn't be that serious. It was only beautiful, timeless, carefree routes through a lovely wood. I thought to know all the roads. My plan was to do it all. Simple. Spring, summer, autumn days stretched out endlessly with not a sign of winter.
And down the road I went and found so many turns. A tree fallen across the path. A bridge washed out, but never mind. I trekked to the nearest, clearest turn, sometimes cross-country. Sometimes through moss, sometimes though briers. I began to understand that way leads on to way and I doubted that I would ever go back.
II found a fellow traveler, and tired of choosing by myself, followed him for a while. Sometimes the road was rocky and the grass overgrazed and brown and I longed for those first two roads, both beautiful and inviting. Only two. So easy. I thought about the title. It is not The Road Less Travelled. It is The Road Not Taken.
And so I tell my story with a sigh. Did the poem mean a sign of regret? Of joy? Of frustration? If we quickly turn to see where we've been the setting sun temporarily blinds us and we see only that - the setting sun.
I chose. We all chose. We chose our roads without seriousness or guilt, but with every consequence. And I continue to choose, refusing the illusion of a destination. And every time I choose it makes all the difference.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.
Then took the other as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
For it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Though knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence
Two roads diverged in a wood , and I -
I took the one less travelled by,
And that has made all the difference.
A bit older than when I first fell into the poem, but certainly not wise, I truly believed there was one best road for me and if I looked carefully enough I would see which one it was. They all looked good to me then. And although I couldn't see what lay beyond the bend in the road, there was no reason to believe that it would be anything less perfect than what I could see from that painless vantage.
And so we, my friends and I, like woodland faeries scattered with the breeze. Some landed well. They found destinations. But I wasn't ready for a destination, and I thought that I could always find my way back to where the roads split and make a different choice. It couldn't be that serious. It was only beautiful, timeless, carefree routes through a lovely wood. I thought to know all the roads. My plan was to do it all. Simple. Spring, summer, autumn days stretched out endlessly with not a sign of winter.
And down the road I went and found so many turns. A tree fallen across the path. A bridge washed out, but never mind. I trekked to the nearest, clearest turn, sometimes cross-country. Sometimes through moss, sometimes though briers. I began to understand that way leads on to way and I doubted that I would ever go back.
II found a fellow traveler, and tired of choosing by myself, followed him for a while. Sometimes the road was rocky and the grass overgrazed and brown and I longed for those first two roads, both beautiful and inviting. Only two. So easy. I thought about the title. It is not The Road Less Travelled. It is The Road Not Taken. And so I tell my story with a sigh. Did the poem mean a sign of regret? Of joy? Of frustration? If we quickly turn to see where we've been the setting sun temporarily blinds us and we see only that - the setting sun.
I chose. We all chose. We chose our roads without seriousness or guilt, but with every consequence. And I continue to choose, refusing the illusion of a destination. And every time I choose it makes all the difference.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.
Then took the other as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
For it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Though knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence
Two roads diverged in a wood , and I -
I took the one less travelled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Monday, December 26, 2011
Even if the World Continues
I wish you all a happy Wear Brown Shoes Day, Civil Aviation Day, Bathtub Party Day, Eat Red Apple Day, Roof Over Your Head Day, Maple Syrup Day, Ice Cream Day, Chocolate Covered Anything Day, Cotton Candy Day, St. Nicholas' Day, Christmas, Kwanzaa, Lemon Cupcake Day, Bake Cookies Day, Chocolate Day, Eggnog Day, Fruitcake Day, Boxing Day, Date Nut Bread Day, Chanukah, Pumpkin Pie Day and Bicarbonate of Soda Day. I poo you not, these are all holidays in December. No wonder I'm voluptuous and confused.
And I hope you all have a happy new year. I reckon that even before the world ends less than a year from now, 2012 will be an interesting year. I have broken my resolution to never make an other resolution and have resolved the following:
1) I resolve to not waste what isn't mine and remember it's all borrowed.
2) I resolve to be conscious of the times I am not kind and try to minimize them.
3) I resolve to not miss an opportunity to dance - even if I'm relatively sure I'll fall down.
4) I resolve to turn my consciousness to here and now when I catch myself thinking of when and then.
5) I resolve to look at the sky and be grateful daily.
6) I resolve to waste less, and drink more, water.
7) I resolve to waste less time on negative emotion and laugh more.
8) I resolve to remember always that life is short and try to widen it.
9) I resolve to celebrate more and mourn less.
10) I resolve to be in awe daily.
Ten is a lot of resolutions for someone who hasn't made one in a few decades. If you see me behaving as if these were not my resolutions, please knock me up side the head, or remind me in some gentler way. And in case the world doesn't end next December, remind me to resolve these again next year.
Oh, and have a happy Festivus!
And I hope you all have a happy new year. I reckon that even before the world ends less than a year from now, 2012 will be an interesting year. I have broken my resolution to never make an other resolution and have resolved the following:
1) I resolve to not waste what isn't mine and remember it's all borrowed.
2) I resolve to be conscious of the times I am not kind and try to minimize them.
3) I resolve to not miss an opportunity to dance - even if I'm relatively sure I'll fall down.
4) I resolve to turn my consciousness to here and now when I catch myself thinking of when and then.
5) I resolve to look at the sky and be grateful daily.
6) I resolve to waste less, and drink more, water.
7) I resolve to waste less time on negative emotion and laugh more.
8) I resolve to remember always that life is short and try to widen it.
9) I resolve to celebrate more and mourn less.
10) I resolve to be in awe daily.
Ten is a lot of resolutions for someone who hasn't made one in a few decades. If you see me behaving as if these were not my resolutions, please knock me up side the head, or remind me in some gentler way. And in case the world doesn't end next December, remind me to resolve these again next year.
Oh, and have a happy Festivus!
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Words to Scratch By
A million years ago when I rode my dinosaur to grad (how to be a psychotherapist) school, the other grad asses and I kept a quote board. The rule was that you actually had to have heard or read the statement in order to post it. I recreate it here from memory and have added worthy quotes I've run across more recently.
I can't stand intolerance.
Oh, Israel, to conquer Death you only have to die.
They said I had a bad attitude, but I don't give a shit.
Delusions of grandeur make me feel better about myself.
I'm glad I'm not an alcoholic because then I'd have to quit and I don't think I could.
I have a very highly focused sense of vagueness.
Give me ambiguity or give me something else.
It takes a big man to admit he's small.
I have cultivated my hysteria with pleasure and terror.
Some people are sane all their lives. How boring they must be!
The here and now ain't what it used to be.
It's better to be mad and know it than to be sane and have ones doubts.
It is a dangerous man who has rationalized his emotions.
Sometimes the only sane thing to do is become mad.
I don't recommend psychosis for everyone, but it works for me.
It's a mighty fine delusion to believe you're free of them.
Doubt is uncomfortable. Certainty is ridiculous.
Life is like a waterfall. (Don't ask, I've no idea.)
She was as deaf as a bat.
Now, it isn't every day that you need one of these gems of wisdom. But it's good to have them handy, just in case.
I can't stand intolerance.
Oh, Israel, to conquer Death you only have to die.
They said I had a bad attitude, but I don't give a shit.
Delusions of grandeur make me feel better about myself.
I'm glad I'm not an alcoholic because then I'd have to quit and I don't think I could.
I have a very highly focused sense of vagueness.
Give me ambiguity or give me something else.
It takes a big man to admit he's small.
I have cultivated my hysteria with pleasure and terror.
Some people are sane all their lives. How boring they must be!
The here and now ain't what it used to be.
It's better to be mad and know it than to be sane and have ones doubts.
It is a dangerous man who has rationalized his emotions.
Sometimes the only sane thing to do is become mad.
I don't recommend psychosis for everyone, but it works for me.
It's a mighty fine delusion to believe you're free of them.
Doubt is uncomfortable. Certainty is ridiculous.
Life is like a waterfall. (Don't ask, I've no idea.)
She was as deaf as a bat.
Now, it isn't every day that you need one of these gems of wisdom. But it's good to have them handy, just in case.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Honey Memories
When I was sixteen I was incredibly spoiled. My parents gave me my grandfather's old car. She was a tan-ish '66 Ford Galaxy 500 - square tail lights - with a white top, four doors, an AM Philco, and 352 under the hood. I don't know what that last bit means, but someone told me that, and when other cool kids asked, "So, what's she got inner?" I'd say "352," and nod knowingly. Her name was Honey and I and 5 of my closest friends could ride around in her all night. All night meant till possibly midnight on a weekend.
Riding around was the main activity in the early '70s in Carthage Illinois. We'd do the square and then do the lake, and maybe even do the college, then back to the square. I don't know how we did it, but we could recognize a friend's car's head or tail lights. Just practice, I guess. It's a very good thing gas was cheap because Honey probably didn't get more than 10 mpg.
It's not that riding around was all we did. Sometimes I'd get a wild hair and I'd drag race Honey on the red bridge road. I could take anyone in ten telephone poles. Couldn't take anyone in five. Honey took a bit to get going, but once she got there, she just took off. Fifteen years ago, when my father was dying and couldn't get out of a wheelchair, I told him about racing Honey. He gave me The Look, which had actually stopped having the desired effect on me a few decades earlier, and said, "You raced that car!" I said, "Not only did I race her, but I also dragged in your Cougar." He asked, "Did you win?" I said "Always." He said, "That's good." It's a good thing Mom wasn't present or I'd still be grounded.
Sometimes there would be a party at the lake. We'd all pile in Honey and ride around until we got up enough nerve and then we'd join a bunch of others at the lower circle or the spillway and try to act cool, while not actually drinking any of the Boones Farm. However, once one of the Dion boys taught me how to inhale a cigarette and blow smoke through my nose. Those Dion boys! Sure they looked innocent enough, but you really had to watch them. In fact, dating a Dion or two was sort of a right of passage back then in Carthage.
Sometimes, my friend Jacque and I, budding wannabe hippy folk singers that we were, would actually take our guitars and sit and play and sing on the court house steps - right in the middle of the square. Talk about bold. Oh, we were out there! And Nichols and I. . . .well, we had "urinary incidents" allllll over that town. We'd get to laughing and it was all over. Yep. We were cool. Sometimes we'd even go riding around after a the lot of us got together and made and ate spaghetti at one or an other's house.
We'd keep track of all the big news. Who was goin' with whom. Who was sitting close to whom in the car (pre-bucket seats). Possibly even who had gone all the way. Though certainly none of my girlfriends did that at sixteen! My girls and I were especially nerdy, even for Carthage in the early '70s. I'm not sure we knew what second base was. Just ask any Dion.
Honey saw it all and heard it all. She was a great car. A tank of a car. A boat of a car. Several people could and did fit in her trunk in cases of drive-in economics or dumping freshmen (catch a freshman, stick him in the trunk and then drop him off in the country somewhere).
Honey was simple and friendly, just the right things for the time and the place. The engine made sense. You could see the parts. If she got flooded, I'd take off the air filter and hold down the butterfly valve while someone else started her. Easy-peasy.
Now I'm all concerned about fuel-savings and XM radios with ten gazillion stations and I just expect things like air bags and GPS and all sorts of gadgets to break and go wrong. The cars I'm looking at now would nearly fit in Honey's trunk. If I could have that car back for a weekend in 1972 - just one weekend would be enough, mind you - I'd fit the whole spaghetti group in her and we'd do that square and park out at the lower circle and we would look up at the millions of stars and we would know just how incredibly fortunate we were.
Riding around was the main activity in the early '70s in Carthage Illinois. We'd do the square and then do the lake, and maybe even do the college, then back to the square. I don't know how we did it, but we could recognize a friend's car's head or tail lights. Just practice, I guess. It's a very good thing gas was cheap because Honey probably didn't get more than 10 mpg.
It's not that riding around was all we did. Sometimes I'd get a wild hair and I'd drag race Honey on the red bridge road. I could take anyone in ten telephone poles. Couldn't take anyone in five. Honey took a bit to get going, but once she got there, she just took off. Fifteen years ago, when my father was dying and couldn't get out of a wheelchair, I told him about racing Honey. He gave me The Look, which had actually stopped having the desired effect on me a few decades earlier, and said, "You raced that car!" I said, "Not only did I race her, but I also dragged in your Cougar." He asked, "Did you win?" I said "Always." He said, "That's good." It's a good thing Mom wasn't present or I'd still be grounded.
Sometimes there would be a party at the lake. We'd all pile in Honey and ride around until we got up enough nerve and then we'd join a bunch of others at the lower circle or the spillway and try to act cool, while not actually drinking any of the Boones Farm. However, once one of the Dion boys taught me how to inhale a cigarette and blow smoke through my nose. Those Dion boys! Sure they looked innocent enough, but you really had to watch them. In fact, dating a Dion or two was sort of a right of passage back then in Carthage.
Sometimes, my friend Jacque and I, budding wannabe hippy folk singers that we were, would actually take our guitars and sit and play and sing on the court house steps - right in the middle of the square. Talk about bold. Oh, we were out there! And Nichols and I. . . .well, we had "urinary incidents" allllll over that town. We'd get to laughing and it was all over. Yep. We were cool. Sometimes we'd even go riding around after a the lot of us got together and made and ate spaghetti at one or an other's house.
We'd keep track of all the big news. Who was goin' with whom. Who was sitting close to whom in the car (pre-bucket seats). Possibly even who had gone all the way. Though certainly none of my girlfriends did that at sixteen! My girls and I were especially nerdy, even for Carthage in the early '70s. I'm not sure we knew what second base was. Just ask any Dion.
Honey saw it all and heard it all. She was a great car. A tank of a car. A boat of a car. Several people could and did fit in her trunk in cases of drive-in economics or dumping freshmen (catch a freshman, stick him in the trunk and then drop him off in the country somewhere).
Honey was simple and friendly, just the right things for the time and the place. The engine made sense. You could see the parts. If she got flooded, I'd take off the air filter and hold down the butterfly valve while someone else started her. Easy-peasy.
Now I'm all concerned about fuel-savings and XM radios with ten gazillion stations and I just expect things like air bags and GPS and all sorts of gadgets to break and go wrong. The cars I'm looking at now would nearly fit in Honey's trunk. If I could have that car back for a weekend in 1972 - just one weekend would be enough, mind you - I'd fit the whole spaghetti group in her and we'd do that square and park out at the lower circle and we would look up at the millions of stars and we would know just how incredibly fortunate we were.
Monday, November 7, 2011
A Middle-aged Leaf
I asked for a dream that would help me and I dreamed of a colorful maple leaf floating on a still lake.My friend said the maple leaf has no ability to manipulate its path or change its destination. He said it's controlled by the flow of the lake and will eventually be washed onto shore and left, as the water continues on its path.
I'm glad it wasn't his dream.
I think the beautiful maple leaf was at the end of her season on the tree. Once a yellow-green bud, she'd grown into a large green leaf - one of hundreds of thousands. She worked hard with photosynthesis, providing shade for what was below, providing protection for bird, squirrel, and beings she didn't even know. She often provided a meal for a small worm or two. She turned her face to greet the sun each day. Then over the course of a few day she turned red and yellow and seemed to shimmer in the autumn sun.
There she completed releasing her energy. She was no longer leaf. She became snail, fertile mud, insect, fish, oxygen, nitrogen and the cycle continued.
Friday, November 4, 2011
Answers to Musical Questions.
1. If happy little bluebirds fly beyond the rainbow, why oh, why can't I?
You are not a bird.
2. Why do fools fall in love?
Non-fools know better.
3. Why do birds suddenly appear, every time you are near?
Those are vultures and you're on your last leg.
4. How much is that doggy in the window?
It had better be a shelter window because no one should buy animals from pet shops.
5. What was that promise that you made?
Never to tell you your zipper is down.
6. Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?
He's just been out riding fences without a saddle for too damn long.
7. Will you still love me tomorrow?
Tomorrow maybe, next week. . . . not so sure.
8. Why do the stars go on shining, the sea keep on rushing to shore?
The light from millions of stars is just now reaching our atmosphere; usually it's the gravitational pull of the moon which creates tides and the mixing of cold and warmer water which creates motion. However, if a big earthquake happens or a big ol' space rock hits the ocean, it may cause a tsunami.
9. How'd she get them trousers on?
She got flat on her back on her bed and pulled and tugged at them, zipping them while a girlfriend pulled the snaps together.
10. Are the stars out tonight?
They are there, though whether or not you see them depends on ambient light, cloud cover, your eyesight and whether or not there are trees or buildings in the line of sight.
You are not a bird.
2. Why do fools fall in love?
Non-fools know better.
3. Why do birds suddenly appear, every time you are near?
Those are vultures and you're on your last leg.
4. How much is that doggy in the window?
It had better be a shelter window because no one should buy animals from pet shops.
5. What was that promise that you made?
Never to tell you your zipper is down.
6. Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?
He's just been out riding fences without a saddle for too damn long.
7. Will you still love me tomorrow?
Tomorrow maybe, next week. . . . not so sure.
8. Why do the stars go on shining, the sea keep on rushing to shore?
The light from millions of stars is just now reaching our atmosphere; usually it's the gravitational pull of the moon which creates tides and the mixing of cold and warmer water which creates motion. However, if a big earthquake happens or a big ol' space rock hits the ocean, it may cause a tsunami.
9. How'd she get them trousers on?
She got flat on her back on her bed and pulled and tugged at them, zipping them while a girlfriend pulled the snaps together.
10. Are the stars out tonight?
They are there, though whether or not you see them depends on ambient light, cloud cover, your eyesight and whether or not there are trees or buildings in the line of sight.
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