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.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
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.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
God is where I live and move and have my being.
I think Moses, Christ, the Buddah, and Mohammed had some very nice ideas, but then people got carried away with interpretting and rephrasing and getting all anal about the whole thing.
Trees aren't like that. They grow against all odds into huge, kind beings. They are strong and resilient. They give and give and give, and then they give. That's all.
Water isn't like religions, either. All water is holy and we do well to remember that. It gives and gives and gives and then it gives. That's all. It continues. It cycles.
The air, the ground - these are the things that save us, just as they saved Jesus and Buddah and Mohammed, if indeed they existed. We know the Earth exists. Here She is. We are part of Her. There is no need to organize or make rules. She's already done that, physics, biology. We just haven't learned them all yet.
Even when the Earth quakes, the rivers flood, the tornadoes use the trees as missiles or fires burn them - even in destruction they give.
We people fancy ourselves so important as to be able to make the rules, make gods in our image. What funny little fleas (no disrespect meant to fleas). We are incidental bothers, destroyers or appreciaters.
And yet even in our appreciation we receive a gift. Our gift of appreciation of the beauty in which we are enveloped is increased.
I'm reminded of a line from a song from Godspell, All Good Gifts. "No gift have we to offer, for all Thy love imparts, but that which Thou desirest, our humble thankful hearts." But I don't really think Earth is holding Her breath waiting for us to be greatful. She's much bigger than that.
To me being a Pantheist does not mean that I am not a Christian or a Buddhist or a Flying Spaghettian. I believe Pantheism is just so much bigger than all those. It must include them all, because all they are is people and people are of the Earth.
Trees aren't like that. They grow against all odds into huge, kind beings. They are strong and resilient. They give and give and give, and then they give. That's all.
Water isn't like religions, either. All water is holy and we do well to remember that. It gives and gives and gives and then it gives. That's all. It continues. It cycles.
The air, the ground - these are the things that save us, just as they saved Jesus and Buddah and Mohammed, if indeed they existed. We know the Earth exists. Here She is. We are part of Her. There is no need to organize or make rules. She's already done that, physics, biology. We just haven't learned them all yet.
Even when the Earth quakes, the rivers flood, the tornadoes use the trees as missiles or fires burn them - even in destruction they give.
We people fancy ourselves so important as to be able to make the rules, make gods in our image. What funny little fleas (no disrespect meant to fleas). We are incidental bothers, destroyers or appreciaters.
And yet even in our appreciation we receive a gift. Our gift of appreciation of the beauty in which we are enveloped is increased.
I'm reminded of a line from a song from Godspell, All Good Gifts. "No gift have we to offer, for all Thy love imparts, but that which Thou desirest, our humble thankful hearts." But I don't really think Earth is holding Her breath waiting for us to be greatful. She's much bigger than that.
To me being a Pantheist does not mean that I am not a Christian or a Buddhist or a Flying Spaghettian. I believe Pantheism is just so much bigger than all those. It must include them all, because all they are is people and people are of the Earth.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Now THAT'S Offensive
I'm offended by the way people choose to be offended.
Ben and Jerry's, a fine American institution to which I contribute regularly, makes arguably the best ice cream in the world. I like ice cream. I don't need it, but I like it very much. So when I heard there was a new flavor out, I was ready, spoon in hand. But I can not find the new flavor. Evidently it offends some people. Not the ice cream, but the name of the ice cream offends.
Jerry's Shweddy Balls flavor is fudge covered rum and chocolate balls in Ben and Jerry's incredibly wonderful vanilla ice cream. Yum. But evidently, other fine American institutions find the name of the ice cream so offensive that they have demanded it be taken off grocery shelves.
Throughout the 1990's more than 100 million children died from illness and starvation. Those 100 million deaths could have been prevented for the price of ten Stealth bombers, or what the world spent on its military in two days! Most recent statistics state over 13% of the world's population is hungry.
Humans slash and burn forests, shoot endangered species, continue to create and toss plastics, which produce dioxins (big, bad carcinogens) as well as pollute the planet for gazillions of years in the name of convenience. We continue to drain the Earth of her oil and blast the tops off her mountains so we can burn fossil fuel instead of coming up with better ways to feed our energy addiction. Humans enslave women and children; torture, ridicule and kill each other in the name of God.
We feed our children's minds on violent video games where they learn that might is right and blowing up other people is cool. We feed their bodies with junk food including things much more dangerous than fancy ice cream, because they want it, then we pass laws to keep the toys out of happy meals because parents don't have balls enough - shweddy or otherwise - to say no to junk food or to keep them home and make a decent meal.
44 million Americans have no health insurance coverage. 40 other countries have lower infant mortality rates than the U.S.A. Do you reckon there might be a connection?
These are the things that offend me.
If you find it your moral obligation to save our children from naughty ice cream flavors, would you also spend some of that righteous indignation on filling up your local food pantry? Would you help your child see the personal value in choosing a plain notebook and donating school supplies with the remainder of the money? Would you make recycling a priority. Would you please at least take your pretty little face out of your ass long enough to see that there are some really important ways you could improve the world that have nothing to do with shweddy balls
Ben and Jerry's, a fine American institution to which I contribute regularly, makes arguably the best ice cream in the world. I like ice cream. I don't need it, but I like it very much. So when I heard there was a new flavor out, I was ready, spoon in hand. But I can not find the new flavor. Evidently it offends some people. Not the ice cream, but the name of the ice cream offends.
Jerry's Shweddy Balls flavor is fudge covered rum and chocolate balls in Ben and Jerry's incredibly wonderful vanilla ice cream. Yum. But evidently, other fine American institutions find the name of the ice cream so offensive that they have demanded it be taken off grocery shelves.
Throughout the 1990's more than 100 million children died from illness and starvation. Those 100 million deaths could have been prevented for the price of ten Stealth bombers, or what the world spent on its military in two days! Most recent statistics state over 13% of the world's population is hungry.
Humans slash and burn forests, shoot endangered species, continue to create and toss plastics, which produce dioxins (big, bad carcinogens) as well as pollute the planet for gazillions of years in the name of convenience. We continue to drain the Earth of her oil and blast the tops off her mountains so we can burn fossil fuel instead of coming up with better ways to feed our energy addiction. Humans enslave women and children; torture, ridicule and kill each other in the name of God.
We feed our children's minds on violent video games where they learn that might is right and blowing up other people is cool. We feed their bodies with junk food including things much more dangerous than fancy ice cream, because they want it, then we pass laws to keep the toys out of happy meals because parents don't have balls enough - shweddy or otherwise - to say no to junk food or to keep them home and make a decent meal.
44 million Americans have no health insurance coverage. 40 other countries have lower infant mortality rates than the U.S.A. Do you reckon there might be a connection?
These are the things that offend me.
If you find it your moral obligation to save our children from naughty ice cream flavors, would you also spend some of that righteous indignation on filling up your local food pantry? Would you help your child see the personal value in choosing a plain notebook and donating school supplies with the remainder of the money? Would you make recycling a priority. Would you please at least take your pretty little face out of your ass long enough to see that there are some really important ways you could improve the world that have nothing to do with shweddy balls
Sunday, September 25, 2011
I Love You, Dear CPAP
And here I am again,
In love with another machine, incapable of feeling.
But I don't care - you take my breath away and quickly give it back again.
You have given me new life!
You have given me back my dreams!
I wake refreshed, and leave you for the day
But I will always sleep with you, my love.
Connected, as we are,
My nose to your hose.
In love with another machine, incapable of feeling.
But I don't care - you take my breath away and quickly give it back again.
You have given me new life!
You have given me back my dreams!
I wake refreshed, and leave you for the day
But I will always sleep with you, my love.
Connected, as we are,
My nose to your hose.
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