I never realized it before, but I must be a control freak. I always hold the gas nozzle when I fill the car for fear the gas will come gushing out, due to a malfunction, and spill all over the ground; subsequently blowing up the station.
When my family signed me up for para sailing, without my knowledge, I thought I would just go through with it, not realizing I had absolutely no control of anything, except for the decision ' to go.'
There I was flying over the ocean a few hundred feet above the shark infested ocean in a chair held up by a kite tied with a rope to a boat. I had no control of the boat, kite or rope, I was terrified.
I only heard about the near death stories afterward when I was safe on the ground having prayed every second of every minute I was in the air; frightening my brave daughter who thought it was safe; except for my ' please God keep us safe' babbling which unnerved her.
Mara told me yesterday that the first time she para sailed with her son, the chair started to fall apart while they were sailing through the sky. She freaked out. I have heard of people slamming into buildings upon descent to the shore. Strangers who operate rides take your life into their hands.
When I was younger, I went on a traveling circus carnival ride . I sat next to a guy who was 200 pounds heavier than me by sight. The Ferris wheel operator controlled the speed and the amount of time we spent flying around on the Ferris wheel. The ride seemed forever and it was forever when I realized the operator got a kick out of watching the gravity force of this guy's massive body slam against my body.
I felt helpless sitting there being crushed repeatedly. I was lucky to get out without any broken bones; only bruises, a smashed straw purse with broken sunglasses inside. I don't go on traveling circus rides anymore; not even the ones the local churches bring into town.
I like adventure as much as the next guy as long as it's completely under my control in which case it's not much of an adventure if there is no unexpected thrill. I did relent a few times. I do remember being talked into, by my youngest daughter, a Ferris wheel ride with single seats. It was indoors at Universal or Disneyland. The Ferris wheel spun around, projecting each chain linked flying seat towards the wall with each passing. I actually thought I would hit the wall at full speed every time it made a full circle. Just at the moment of 'almost' impact, the wheel jerked me out of harms way for another round of
Dare - I - Do - That- Again. With each passing jerk from the wall, I laughed so hard, I cried; that I was still alive.
The thrill of uncontrollable adventure.
I go into shock mode when I am in a car accident. Makes me wonder why I drive so fast when I know I won't have any control of an out of control car because I can't think that fast. I do depend on my guardian angels to guide me. My daughter once asked why I don't have the confidence to drive without them. When my family told me that my driving scares them. I replied, " .....not half as much as it scares me." Therefore, the angels.
Just when I think I have control of my foot, I realize it has a mind of its own. I was flying down the highway sandwiched between two semi trucks, knowing that the highway ahead was narrowing into two lanes. I could have slowed down to trail behind the semis, but NOoooooo, I had to gun it. There I was flying along in between two trucks as if I were an Oreo center; light and fluffy to be squashed. I had control I told myself. I had my foot on the pedal and I could make it, although no one told that puttering Volkswagen Bug that appeared in front of me. I had no time to think. Oh carp! I can't slow down now, my foot won't let me.
Just when the right lane disappeared forcing the semi into my lane, the Volkswagen was no where to be seen and I could feel my car flying, as if it had wings, over and above the truck encroaching on me. No one can tell me there are no guardian angels; only a foolish foot.
I have no idea if I have control of anything until it happens. I didn't feel afraid when I fell into the rapids of a river. I did not have time to think. I could hang onto the raft.
The first time I kayaked in the ocean I didn't think about sharks. I was with plenty of guides and other kayakers that were shark bait. Even when a wave struck our kayak, flipping it on top of me; pinning me down in the ocean, I knew my husband and other kayak guides were all around me...somewhere. My feet were touching the ocean floor. I could survive.
Fear comes from not knowing how much control I will have when the time comes to survive whatever life throws at me. Once I figure that out; then I am fine, thank you.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Men and Their Balls
I was watching the soccer game the other day which I normally do not. Thank God! for DirecTv - TiVo prerecording fast forward. Skip all the commercials, the 2 hour foreplays before the ball actually makes it into the goalie net; the game was only 5 minutes long.
Watching that white blob dancing all over the green background from head to head or foot to foot, I could not help wonder about all the ball games that man invented if only because he must be subconsciously fascinated with his balls.
We have baseBALL, footBALL named appropriately for their balls. Then we have a soccer Ball; golf Ball, tennis Ball, ping pong Ball, Lacrosse Ball, bowling Ball, polo Ball, water polo Ball, volley Ball...holy smokes!
While her husband is fascinated with his Ball games, I cannot even imagine what game a woman would create; unless it's a Pogo stick.
Watching that white blob dancing all over the green background from head to head or foot to foot, I could not help wonder about all the ball games that man invented if only because he must be subconsciously fascinated with his balls.
We have baseBALL, footBALL named appropriately for their balls. Then we have a soccer Ball; golf Ball, tennis Ball, ping pong Ball, Lacrosse Ball, bowling Ball, polo Ball, water polo Ball, volley Ball...holy smokes!
While her husband is fascinated with his Ball games, I cannot even imagine what game a woman would create; unless it's a Pogo stick.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Politics and Friends
I woke up this morning with all these random thoughts.
I have been wondering about the differences in my Republicans friends and my Democratic friends. Did I say I have Democratic friends? Had, for two of my best friends for over 30 years just wiped me off the face of their earth.
I grew up a Democrat. Very committed to that ideology on the far left, not really understanding what the left and right meant. I just wanted what our forefathers wanted for everyone. The freedom to be equal, but under a "Just" government. I wasn't a socialist or a fascist. And then came along the Libertarians.
I think I am all three now, combined into one.
When I was in college, I was so naive about elections that I thought the President of the United States never told a lie, or why would anyone have voted for them. I hate admitting this, but it's necessary to let you know where I am coming from and where I plan to go.
As I started to better understand the character of the Presidents: 'I am not a crook."- Nixon; " Read my lips: No new taxes."- G.H.W. Bush; "It depends on what the meaning of the words 'is' is." –Bill Clinton.
I wanted to vote for the one I thought would govern the best, no matter to which party I belonged. I realized my ballot was restricted to my party and I felt cheated by the governmental system.
Although a Democrat, I lived among Republicans. Republicans had no problem talking politics with me. We would have heated argument whether, in person or online and still have dinner later.
You could hear my Republican cousin and me, yelling at each other into the early morning hours, defending our party's ideals; only to wake up later to eggs and bacon, laughing at our differences. The Republicans never ignored me or hated me; although it was clear they hated my ideals.
Any continuously learning person changes their mind from time to time depending on the evidence or truth; as they see it.
The truth is another political hurdle. Who is telling the truth? How do we get through all the slanted news reports. Why are radio and television stations called Liberal and Conservative stations if the News Media is Balanced. I laugh when I hear one channel or the other, advertise that they are the best news program for fair and balanced news; whether it's CNN or Fox News.
I realize that they both distinguish their biases by their opinionated commentary programs which lean one way; all the while trying to be fair and balance during their hardcore News programing.
Fair and Balanced up to a point; that is, for they don't always report ALL the information to make a fair and balanced analogy.
Cherry picking is even popular in politics.
No one can tell a life long radical like me that the Democratic party has not changed, radically.
I can only handle so much blind loyalty; or is it that, I can't bare deception. There is just 'so much' of the truth that the Democratic Party can shove under the rug before someone trips over the hump it creates revealing the whole truth. How can any candidate belong to a church for 20 years and not be affected by the sermon?
The difference between Obama and me is that he heard the sermon of hatred towards America repeatedly for 20 years and never left the church until he ran for President of the United States in which it's uncouth to hate America; whereas, I only had to hear it once and I was gone.
Obama said that he was never in church, not one time, swear to God on my mother's grave, when his pastor gave sermons of hatred for America for 20 years.
I have seen people fall asleep in church, but this story goes beyond sleeping into unconsciousness; a lack of oxygen to the brain.
I have no doubt the white people abused and used the black people. After all I lived most of my life in the South. I don't blame the black people for being angry for the way they were treated, but I am a white woman. White women in a white man's world were not treated, always, as harshly as the black people; however, the black man DID get to VOTE before any woman was allowed in America.
".......1868 - Fourteenth amendment ratified. Fifteenth amendment passes
Congress, giving the vote to black men. Women petition to be included but
are turned down. Formation of New England Woman Suffrage Association.
In New Jersey, 172 women attempt to vote; their ballots are ignored....."
".....1920 - The Nineteenth Amendment, called the Susan B. Anthony
Amendment, is ratified byTennessee on August 18. It becomes law on August 26...."
giving women the right to vote. That's fifty-two (52) long years later.
http://dpsinfo.com/women/history/timeline.html
The Boston.com, a Boston Globe article:
http://www.boston.com/bostonglobe/ideas/articles/2008/02/17/black_man_vs_white_woman/?page=2
said it all:
".....And if the ample literature on bias shows anything, it is that, for all
the difficulties Americans have with race, it may prove that attitudes about
women are the hardest to change...."
Don't keep whining to me about being "Black in America", like the CNN liberals like to do by shoving it down my throat; all the while, pumping their 'half black, half white man' Obama up to the front line.
Why not Chinese or "Japanese in America," after all, they were put in prison camps during WWII in America. I don't hear them having sermons on hating America.
And if the liberals think they are so bloody fair and balance; why did they threw the experienced woman candidate: Senator Hillary Clinton under the bus for the immature; inexperienced black man.
Nothing fair and balanced about that decision. It was more about male vs. female; than about white man vs. half -black man. Everything about the liberals shouts racism. There is no fair and balance reporting when they make race an issue.
My Democratic friends are not as understanding and forgiving as my Republican friends. They are radically mad. I chose to vote for the candidate, not the party, because I saw the candidate for what he was and is and not for what the Liberal news media were so shamefully trying to make him be.
I feel the truth is in the eye of the beholder because everyone has a different perspective of what they witness. The Truth is there somewhere. A person can take all the facts; unfeelingly cold and hard, as if a forensic analogy; or they can take the facts and cherry pick them, to make it more personal; thus emotional. Politics is anything, but forensic science. It's extremely emotional.
Once I looked at the candidate and decided that I did not like any of them emotionally, I voted on the facts. I am not as emotional, as I once was about politics; although my family and friends won't agree because they see me breathing.
I don't socialize with any Democratic friends for they all deserted me. They could not bear the thought that I voted on the facts, instead of on my emotions for the party. I have a mind that likes to accumulate ideas to form other ideas and it is continuously changing. It does not stay stagnate.
The facts tell me that the candidate I should vote for will never run for a political office. The best man or woman will never win because they are never in the race. They are too honest, too saintly, to be in politics. Even if a saintly and peaceful candidate did win the election; we already know that even the Dalai Lama couldn't save his country; even if he prayed until the Yaks came home.
Which tells me that human behavior will always be contradictory in nature. The candidate I vote for will not be the same person after he or she wins. He will not remain the campaigning caricature of himself. He will become a contradictory character to his campaigning self.
After the election, Obama's campaign promises of 'Hope and Change' amounted to nothing more than a sermon. While in office he did the opposite - No Hope; but a big Change in political tactics that was more corrupt than previous administrations. A big change in policies, destroying the foundation of America by destroying capitalism. He wanted change to annihilation America as a super power.
Other Presidents also campaigned with broken promises such as President G.W. Bush who promised isolation, not war. Each with their own personal agenda once the vote is cast.
Did you hear that one New York judge allowed the voters to vote 6 times in one election?
"..PORT CHESTER, N.Y. – Arthur Furano voted early — five days before Election Day. And he voted often, flipping the lever six times for his favorite candidate. Furano cast multiple votes on the instructions of a federal judge and the U.S. Department of Justice as part of a new election system crafted to help boost Hispanic representation..." http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20100615/ap_on_el_st_lo/us_voting_rights_election
It took only one judge to change a legislative rule of "one person; one vote." Everyone has the power to change the laws of the land. The question remains: Who will you allow, through your vote, to change them?
I have been wondering about the differences in my Republicans friends and my Democratic friends. Did I say I have Democratic friends? Had, for two of my best friends for over 30 years just wiped me off the face of their earth.
I grew up a Democrat. Very committed to that ideology on the far left, not really understanding what the left and right meant. I just wanted what our forefathers wanted for everyone. The freedom to be equal, but under a "Just" government. I wasn't a socialist or a fascist. And then came along the Libertarians.
I think I am all three now, combined into one.
When I was in college, I was so naive about elections that I thought the President of the United States never told a lie, or why would anyone have voted for them. I hate admitting this, but it's necessary to let you know where I am coming from and where I plan to go.
As I started to better understand the character of the Presidents: 'I am not a crook."- Nixon; " Read my lips: No new taxes."- G.H.W. Bush; "It depends on what the meaning of the words 'is' is." –Bill Clinton.
I wanted to vote for the one I thought would govern the best, no matter to which party I belonged. I realized my ballot was restricted to my party and I felt cheated by the governmental system.
Although a Democrat, I lived among Republicans. Republicans had no problem talking politics with me. We would have heated argument whether, in person or online and still have dinner later.
You could hear my Republican cousin and me, yelling at each other into the early morning hours, defending our party's ideals; only to wake up later to eggs and bacon, laughing at our differences. The Republicans never ignored me or hated me; although it was clear they hated my ideals.
Any continuously learning person changes their mind from time to time depending on the evidence or truth; as they see it.
The truth is another political hurdle. Who is telling the truth? How do we get through all the slanted news reports. Why are radio and television stations called Liberal and Conservative stations if the News Media is Balanced. I laugh when I hear one channel or the other, advertise that they are the best news program for fair and balanced news; whether it's CNN or Fox News.
I realize that they both distinguish their biases by their opinionated commentary programs which lean one way; all the while trying to be fair and balance during their hardcore News programing.
Fair and Balanced up to a point; that is, for they don't always report ALL the information to make a fair and balanced analogy.
Cherry picking is even popular in politics.
No one can tell a life long radical like me that the Democratic party has not changed, radically.
I can only handle so much blind loyalty; or is it that, I can't bare deception. There is just 'so much' of the truth that the Democratic Party can shove under the rug before someone trips over the hump it creates revealing the whole truth. How can any candidate belong to a church for 20 years and not be affected by the sermon?
The difference between Obama and me is that he heard the sermon of hatred towards America repeatedly for 20 years and never left the church until he ran for President of the United States in which it's uncouth to hate America; whereas, I only had to hear it once and I was gone.
Obama said that he was never in church, not one time, swear to God on my mother's grave, when his pastor gave sermons of hatred for America for 20 years.
I have seen people fall asleep in church, but this story goes beyond sleeping into unconsciousness; a lack of oxygen to the brain.
I have no doubt the white people abused and used the black people. After all I lived most of my life in the South. I don't blame the black people for being angry for the way they were treated, but I am a white woman. White women in a white man's world were not treated, always, as harshly as the black people; however, the black man DID get to VOTE before any woman was allowed in America.
".......1868 - Fourteenth amendment ratified. Fifteenth amendment passes
Congress, giving the vote to black men. Women petition to be included but
are turned down. Formation of New England Woman Suffrage Association.
In New Jersey, 172 women attempt to vote; their ballots are ignored....."
".....1920 - The Nineteenth Amendment, called the Susan B. Anthony
Amendment, is ratified byTennessee on August 18. It becomes law on August 26...."
giving women the right to vote. That's fifty-two (52) long years later.
http://dpsinfo.com/women/history/timeline.html
The Boston.com, a Boston Globe article:
http://www.boston.com/bostonglobe/ideas/articles/2008/02/17/black_man_vs_white_woman/?page=2
said it all:
".....And if the ample literature on bias shows anything, it is that, for all
the difficulties Americans have with race, it may prove that attitudes about
women are the hardest to change...."
Don't keep whining to me about being "Black in America", like the CNN liberals like to do by shoving it down my throat; all the while, pumping their 'half black, half white man' Obama up to the front line.
Why not Chinese or "Japanese in America," after all, they were put in prison camps during WWII in America. I don't hear them having sermons on hating America.
And if the liberals think they are so bloody fair and balance; why did they threw the experienced woman candidate: Senator Hillary Clinton under the bus for the immature; inexperienced black man.
Nothing fair and balanced about that decision. It was more about male vs. female; than about white man vs. half -black man. Everything about the liberals shouts racism. There is no fair and balance reporting when they make race an issue.
My Democratic friends are not as understanding and forgiving as my Republican friends. They are radically mad. I chose to vote for the candidate, not the party, because I saw the candidate for what he was and is and not for what the Liberal news media were so shamefully trying to make him be.
I feel the truth is in the eye of the beholder because everyone has a different perspective of what they witness. The Truth is there somewhere. A person can take all the facts; unfeelingly cold and hard, as if a forensic analogy; or they can take the facts and cherry pick them, to make it more personal; thus emotional. Politics is anything, but forensic science. It's extremely emotional.
Once I looked at the candidate and decided that I did not like any of them emotionally, I voted on the facts. I am not as emotional, as I once was about politics; although my family and friends won't agree because they see me breathing.
I don't socialize with any Democratic friends for they all deserted me. They could not bear the thought that I voted on the facts, instead of on my emotions for the party. I have a mind that likes to accumulate ideas to form other ideas and it is continuously changing. It does not stay stagnate.
The facts tell me that the candidate I should vote for will never run for a political office. The best man or woman will never win because they are never in the race. They are too honest, too saintly, to be in politics. Even if a saintly and peaceful candidate did win the election; we already know that even the Dalai Lama couldn't save his country; even if he prayed until the Yaks came home.
Which tells me that human behavior will always be contradictory in nature. The candidate I vote for will not be the same person after he or she wins. He will not remain the campaigning caricature of himself. He will become a contradictory character to his campaigning self.
After the election, Obama's campaign promises of 'Hope and Change' amounted to nothing more than a sermon. While in office he did the opposite - No Hope; but a big Change in political tactics that was more corrupt than previous administrations. A big change in policies, destroying the foundation of America by destroying capitalism. He wanted change to annihilation America as a super power.
Other Presidents also campaigned with broken promises such as President G.W. Bush who promised isolation, not war. Each with their own personal agenda once the vote is cast.
Did you hear that one New York judge allowed the voters to vote 6 times in one election?
"..PORT CHESTER, N.Y. – Arthur Furano voted early — five days before Election Day. And he voted often, flipping the lever six times for his favorite candidate. Furano cast multiple votes on the instructions of a federal judge and the U.S. Department of Justice as part of a new election system crafted to help boost Hispanic representation..." http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20100615/ap_on_el_st_lo/us_voting_rights_election
It took only one judge to change a legislative rule of "one person; one vote." Everyone has the power to change the laws of the land. The question remains: Who will you allow, through your vote, to change them?
Friday, June 18, 2010
Financial Advice: Theirs and Mine
I was driving home yesterday getting my usual shot in the arm news report from 1070 when I heard that gold reached another record high. I was just talking to our financial adviser who doesn't seem to want to buy gold, although my stocks have profited more from gold than any other stock; so much so that he is constantly skimming the profits off the top to buy other stock.
While juggling chores around town, I continued to listen to the advice about gold on the car radio.
One adviser who owns a financial company said that he advised "against" buying gold last year and he was "WRONG," because it did increase in value; BUT he would still not advise buying it today.
Shortly after this advice another financial adviser comes on with his take on gold. He believes in following "the trend" in stocks. If they are going up; jump on the band wagon.
At least 5 years ago, I knew nothing about buying gold. My brother told me he bought gold and it was a good investment for him. So I got the itch and told our adviser to buy gold against his better advice.
As the dollar got weaker, the gold got stronger. I kept hearing the financial talking heads on television say that the more our government prints money without gold backing, the weaker the dollar becomes and the only value left in American currency will be gold. It's not paper thin; but real material, dug from the mine, currency that can be traded in any country.
I believe as long as America is in debt and continues to print worthless money and stay in debt, gold will always be a good buy. A friend said she just traded in her gold jewelry for cash and was floored by the cash she received for it.
It seems every financial adviser has a mind set. I know from experience that our adviser did not see the last stock market bubble burst coming; but I sensed it was coming because the banks were all folding. I have come to realize that financial advisers are stuck in their own bubble of delusion; like anyone going to work, day in and day out, they get tied down to a tree without resurfacing to see the forest.
I was watching Bulls and Bears on Fox News recently and at the end of the program each adviser gives their stock prediction. Since my IRA was ready for a blood transfusion, I listened to the advice.
Human vices like smoking and drinking have no problem making a profit. Although I am crept out by buying cancer causing Phillip Morris, my daughter smokes because of her mental illness. I would buy Samuel Adams beer because my husband drinks it and the rest of the IRA would go to gold and other commodities. Since last month my Samuel Adams stock increased. Someone must be depressed.
Phillip Morris had decreased slightly, mainly because the government's new policy prohibits the mailing of cigarettes which cut into big profits. It's a temporary set back. I am selling that as soon as it reaches a slight profit, although my adviser tells me that we are not in the market to day trade. We are suppose to be thinking Long Term. I don't have that much time left on earth for Long Term.
I realize I have to tell him "exactly" what I want down to the numbers of shares I want because we are never on the same page.
Our financial adviser does keep me from going over the cliff for I am an emotional buyer. Balancing the facts, that all financial advisers bet against each other and give contradicting advice; I continue to look at the forest; while he concentrates on the trees.
While juggling chores around town, I continued to listen to the advice about gold on the car radio.
One adviser who owns a financial company said that he advised "against" buying gold last year and he was "WRONG," because it did increase in value; BUT he would still not advise buying it today.
Shortly after this advice another financial adviser comes on with his take on gold. He believes in following "the trend" in stocks. If they are going up; jump on the band wagon.
At least 5 years ago, I knew nothing about buying gold. My brother told me he bought gold and it was a good investment for him. So I got the itch and told our adviser to buy gold against his better advice.
As the dollar got weaker, the gold got stronger. I kept hearing the financial talking heads on television say that the more our government prints money without gold backing, the weaker the dollar becomes and the only value left in American currency will be gold. It's not paper thin; but real material, dug from the mine, currency that can be traded in any country.
I believe as long as America is in debt and continues to print worthless money and stay in debt, gold will always be a good buy. A friend said she just traded in her gold jewelry for cash and was floored by the cash she received for it.
It seems every financial adviser has a mind set. I know from experience that our adviser did not see the last stock market bubble burst coming; but I sensed it was coming because the banks were all folding. I have come to realize that financial advisers are stuck in their own bubble of delusion; like anyone going to work, day in and day out, they get tied down to a tree without resurfacing to see the forest.
I was watching Bulls and Bears on Fox News recently and at the end of the program each adviser gives their stock prediction. Since my IRA was ready for a blood transfusion, I listened to the advice.
Human vices like smoking and drinking have no problem making a profit. Although I am crept out by buying cancer causing Phillip Morris, my daughter smokes because of her mental illness. I would buy Samuel Adams beer because my husband drinks it and the rest of the IRA would go to gold and other commodities. Since last month my Samuel Adams stock increased. Someone must be depressed.
Phillip Morris had decreased slightly, mainly because the government's new policy prohibits the mailing of cigarettes which cut into big profits. It's a temporary set back. I am selling that as soon as it reaches a slight profit, although my adviser tells me that we are not in the market to day trade. We are suppose to be thinking Long Term. I don't have that much time left on earth for Long Term.
I realize I have to tell him "exactly" what I want down to the numbers of shares I want because we are never on the same page.
Our financial adviser does keep me from going over the cliff for I am an emotional buyer. Balancing the facts, that all financial advisers bet against each other and give contradicting advice; I continue to look at the forest; while he concentrates on the trees.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
So I Am Tired and Depressed
I have been watching too much news. All I see is the oil spill and I think:
What idiots.
Remember I said some time past in one of my blogs that we need 'care takers ' to be the leaders of our world. (I am sure you have read all of my blogs faithfully)
It's the same old mind set in business: Let's deal with the problem "AFTER" it happens. Let's not prepare yet.
That's all I do is prepare and think prevention. Let me be President. I will whop Obama's ass any day and I don't need a high I. Q.
I am a woman. I ask for directions.
Where's the spill?
First priority.
I ask for help?
I am helpless.
European countries want to send me ships to mop up the sea?
Please come quickly.
The whole POINT is to PREVENT the oil from getting to the shore.
DUH.
What idiots.
Remember I said some time past in one of my blogs that we need 'care takers ' to be the leaders of our world. (I am sure you have read all of my blogs faithfully)
It's the same old mind set in business: Let's deal with the problem "AFTER" it happens. Let's not prepare yet.
That's all I do is prepare and think prevention. Let me be President. I will whop Obama's ass any day and I don't need a high I. Q.
I am a woman. I ask for directions.
Where's the spill?
First priority.
I ask for help?
I am helpless.
European countries want to send me ships to mop up the sea?
Please come quickly.
The whole POINT is to PREVENT the oil from getting to the shore.
DUH.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
So You Have disappeared off the Face of the Earth
So you have disappeared off the face of the earth and have gone forever.
There is the person we hear about on the news who has gone missing and is presumed dead.
There is that one lone person who was murdered, a Jane Doe, whose spirit stayed alive.
Lets not forget the dead who live on in our histories because they made a point of being remembered whether we wanted to remember them or not.
and then, there are those bodies with silent spirits.
What good is a dead body whose spirit lingers on?
What good is a live body whose spirit remains silent?
One of them is still giving;
One is still teaching;
And One of them is still alive.
There is the person we hear about on the news who has gone missing and is presumed dead.
There is that one lone person who was murdered, a Jane Doe, whose spirit stayed alive.
Lets not forget the dead who live on in our histories because they made a point of being remembered whether we wanted to remember them or not.
and then, there are those bodies with silent spirits.
What good is a dead body whose spirit lingers on?
What good is a live body whose spirit remains silent?
One of them is still giving;
One is still teaching;
And One of them is still alive.
Family Long Distance
Sitting on the plane in Montana, waiting to go home, the world seems a little smaller when our oldest daughter calls from her working farm in Massachusetts. She is upset with a couple of new arrivals to the farm. They are complaining about having to stay on the farm for their mental illness.
When Kristine first came to the mental facilities in Massachusetts a few years ago, she was completely delusional, spiraling downwards into an abyss with the same attitude these new arrivals have toward a mental facility with rules. She did not want to be there either and she rebelled within the rules. So we were surprised to hear her counsel these young men about their behavior. She said they were spoiled and she told them it's the best place they could be in managing their illness.
How surprised Mary Gormley and Dr. Irvin would be to hear Kristine say those very words today.
She is progressing leap and bounds.
Not only is she thinking about her future; she is doing everything she needs to do to go forward. She filled out all her paperwork for her entrance into Le Cordon Bleu. She passed her online test; her phone interview. For a USC graduate this would be as easy as flying a kite in a gust of wind; but for a mentally ill person; it's like joggling many voices in their head where the kite could break loose and disappear leaving no hope for recovery. Mental illness that interrupts her thought process while managing daily activities.
We are looking forward to her coming home in July with each passing phone call that exceeds our expectations. She told her dad that she is now reading a book on how to train waitresses and waiters since she would like to run her own restaurant some day in the far future. It makes us laugh.
She is also reading the book I sent her on the life story of Paramahansa Yogananda who is noted for being the Father of Yoga in the West. I am hoping she will get some peace of mind from this yogi.
The day after our plane landed in California, we were still running around, picking up the dog from camp and picking up our youngest daughter from the airport all within an hour of each other.
With all this long distance communication coming together, the world seems like a smaller place.
When Kristine first came to the mental facilities in Massachusetts a few years ago, she was completely delusional, spiraling downwards into an abyss with the same attitude these new arrivals have toward a mental facility with rules. She did not want to be there either and she rebelled within the rules. So we were surprised to hear her counsel these young men about their behavior. She said they were spoiled and she told them it's the best place they could be in managing their illness.
How surprised Mary Gormley and Dr. Irvin would be to hear Kristine say those very words today.
She is progressing leap and bounds.
Not only is she thinking about her future; she is doing everything she needs to do to go forward. She filled out all her paperwork for her entrance into Le Cordon Bleu. She passed her online test; her phone interview. For a USC graduate this would be as easy as flying a kite in a gust of wind; but for a mentally ill person; it's like joggling many voices in their head where the kite could break loose and disappear leaving no hope for recovery. Mental illness that interrupts her thought process while managing daily activities.
We are looking forward to her coming home in July with each passing phone call that exceeds our expectations. She told her dad that she is now reading a book on how to train waitresses and waiters since she would like to run her own restaurant some day in the far future. It makes us laugh.
She is also reading the book I sent her on the life story of Paramahansa Yogananda who is noted for being the Father of Yoga in the West. I am hoping she will get some peace of mind from this yogi.
The day after our plane landed in California, we were still running around, picking up the dog from camp and picking up our youngest daughter from the airport all within an hour of each other.
With all this long distance communication coming together, the world seems like a smaller place.
Stock Market Gloom
So here we are in Montana building a house and instead of being interested in the shades of colors of the kitchen; all I can think about is the looming dark cloud I see coming with a financial melt down.
I know little to nothing about finances but I do have a sixth sense for financial disasters. Before the last disaster in 2009, I kept telling my husband and our financial adviser that we needed to put our money in a mattress; that is, take it out of the stock market for the time being. Why did I feel that way? The banks were tanking; all the talking financial heads were talking about gloom and doom. Then it happened like I knew it would. Just like I knew Obama is not mature enough to run a country.
So what is the worry now? Although, Obama's democratic pal James Carville said that Obama has an I.Q. of 160, I realized that 160% of his concentration is centered on his ego. An ego that wants big government. It has nothing to do with spreading the wealth as much as it has to do with spreading Obama's power; a power that is immature in its slow indecisive responses to major disasters such as the oil spill; the Iranian nuclear threat,and the North Korean threat. His big pockets of money he greedily takes from tax payers to buy private companies to control.
I am not surprised. As a once "bleeding heart Liberal," I could not see myself voting for a person who only had experience as a community organizer. I could not understand how the liberal media could bash Sarah Palin's experience as a Governor and turn a blind eye to Obama's lack of experience. Worse yet, Obama sat on the sidelines when it came to voting in the Senate as a Senator. It was on record and repeated in the news that he voted "present" a 100 times; instead of nay or yea. It didn't take Einstein to realize that Obama is a talker who will sit on the fence...and so we see it now with the Oil Spill. Two weeks into the spill, Obama, the most powerful person in the world spent all his collateral blaming BP, Cheney or Bush and turned down help from European countries who had thousands of ships who could suck up the oil BEFORE it reached the coastline. It took a genius to make that decision.
What more can I say?
I don't need a high I.Q to understand how corrupt and stupid Obama is for his actions are staring us in the face. The bankrupting of the country; and therefore the bankrupting of our future.
The Bush tax cuts coming to an end will only increase taxes for those who can create the jobs and for some reason Obama's I. Q. cannot grasp the obvious. The stock market will tank again because there can be no future in a never ending national debt and a growing government only sustained by taxing the only people who can create private jobs.
I have been investing in some gold and I believe cash will be the other save bet in the near future.
How do I know? What's my experience?
A blind man can hear the ticking of the national debt clock.
I know little to nothing about finances but I do have a sixth sense for financial disasters. Before the last disaster in 2009, I kept telling my husband and our financial adviser that we needed to put our money in a mattress; that is, take it out of the stock market for the time being. Why did I feel that way? The banks were tanking; all the talking financial heads were talking about gloom and doom. Then it happened like I knew it would. Just like I knew Obama is not mature enough to run a country.
So what is the worry now? Although, Obama's democratic pal James Carville said that Obama has an I.Q. of 160, I realized that 160% of his concentration is centered on his ego. An ego that wants big government. It has nothing to do with spreading the wealth as much as it has to do with spreading Obama's power; a power that is immature in its slow indecisive responses to major disasters such as the oil spill; the Iranian nuclear threat,and the North Korean threat. His big pockets of money he greedily takes from tax payers to buy private companies to control.
I am not surprised. As a once "bleeding heart Liberal," I could not see myself voting for a person who only had experience as a community organizer. I could not understand how the liberal media could bash Sarah Palin's experience as a Governor and turn a blind eye to Obama's lack of experience. Worse yet, Obama sat on the sidelines when it came to voting in the Senate as a Senator. It was on record and repeated in the news that he voted "present" a 100 times; instead of nay or yea. It didn't take Einstein to realize that Obama is a talker who will sit on the fence...and so we see it now with the Oil Spill. Two weeks into the spill, Obama, the most powerful person in the world spent all his collateral blaming BP, Cheney or Bush and turned down help from European countries who had thousands of ships who could suck up the oil BEFORE it reached the coastline. It took a genius to make that decision.
What more can I say?
I don't need a high I.Q to understand how corrupt and stupid Obama is for his actions are staring us in the face. The bankrupting of the country; and therefore the bankrupting of our future.
The Bush tax cuts coming to an end will only increase taxes for those who can create the jobs and for some reason Obama's I. Q. cannot grasp the obvious. The stock market will tank again because there can be no future in a never ending national debt and a growing government only sustained by taxing the only people who can create private jobs.
I have been investing in some gold and I believe cash will be the other save bet in the near future.
How do I know? What's my experience?
A blind man can hear the ticking of the national debt clock.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Communicating
Once there was an E-mail address that I depended on to be there forever. One day it disappeared. At first I was surprised, a little sad, but then finally, relieved. Relieved because the truth was revealed.
Not everyone wants to communicate.
Some people like being very private, secretive or mysterious and it takes all kinds of communicating or non-communicating to make up the world.
It is those few exceptional people who can quietly shape the world with only a few words that will be quietly remembered by the few who mattered; for no matter the volume of words or the size of the audience if a person communicates with 3 people and helps those same 3 people that is 100 % of quality communication.
Not everyone wants to communicate.
Some people like being very private, secretive or mysterious and it takes all kinds of communicating or non-communicating to make up the world.
It is those few exceptional people who can quietly shape the world with only a few words that will be quietly remembered by the few who mattered; for no matter the volume of words or the size of the audience if a person communicates with 3 people and helps those same 3 people that is 100 % of quality communication.
Daughters
What can I say about motherhood that no other mother can say. I never thought about having or wanting children much less a daughter or daughters.
I never thought of myself as the motherly type. The one who over indulges her senses by dressing up her little girls in dainty dresses with bows and ribbons. Who tells them they will one day marry a prince; although I did have Prince Harry lined up for my youngest and Prince William for my oldest, until I saw what happened to Princess Diana. I actually came across a Christmas recording of our family opening gifts just when my daughters received the Disney Snow White movie from a relative. I found myself saying on the tape: I thought about getting this for you, but I decided that I didn't want you to grow up to marry a prince. It's better to be the queen.
When I was growing up, I always thought I would be another Michelangelo. The female one. I had talent, but I learned too late that talent alone is not enough; it needs an agent or a selling outlet. Artists are not great self promoters. Maybe it wasn't too late; maybe it was just my destiny. I never planned my goals further than getting out of Mississippi and staying out.
To be an artist is to be self-absorbed and a mother cannot afford to be. An artist is selfish and a mother can't always be; even if she wants to be and can afford to be self-absorbed. Art can be a vehicle that transports an artist through a world of self-indulgence, fame, and immortality. For me, it's a very personal creative outlet to express what I think should be a universal thought.
Instead I find myself on a completely different road of twists and turns that are not in my nature. That is, being a mother. A mother to daughters. There are great mothers and there are not so great mothers. I never ever thought of myself as a good mother; much less great one, of course. There is a talent to being a mother too; just like, being an artist.
I did not fall into being an artist. I was born that way. I did fall into motherhood. When one is falling into anything; one loses ones mind momentarily. I am still falling.
On the days that I feel I have landed, I ask myself. How did I get here?
In between all the questions there are a few answers. I must have been a fairly good mother as my daughters have not completely banned me from their face book page; and yes, I have been deleted a few times when leaving 'motherly' embarrassing comments. My daughters like coming home to visit for a short time. The bad mother in me wants them to stay away so I can be that self-indulgent artist.
Obviously I did transfer my creativity to my daughters; sometimes in an odd way. Maybe my oldest daughter gets her schizophrenia-bipolar symptoms from me; an illness that did not quite transfer completely into the abnormal behavior of an artist. Both of them, gladly, like to drag my withering mind along into their world of adventure if only to keep me from falling back into a state of senility so they won't have to take care of me in my old age. It's up to me if I want to open up my mind to new experiences or just sit on the fence.
Last night my youngest daughter encouraged me to draw again while she drew in her notebook. You would think a mother would be encouraging her daughter; but we are beginning that mother daughter transference; in which the oldest becomes the kid and the youngest, becomes the adult.
I always knew God was a little schizophrenic when he created mankind or how else did we get so mentally reversible within one life time. No sane person would do this to themselves.
God has the ultimate imagination and anything a human can imagine or create will never come close. I thought I was a very good artist with a great imagination, until I saw my daughters growing up into amazon like creatures compared to my diminutive frame. I wonder how anyone could ever imagine; much less create, a human being that could possibly come out of a small orifice.
Maybe He is just a little perverted; after all, since I still haven't quite gotten over the body positions we have to get into; in order, to create another human being. What's up with that? Why can't we just poke each other in the arm?
If my daughters knew I was writing this; they would not be horrified because they do have my creative mind that only God could have imagined.
I never thought of myself as the motherly type. The one who over indulges her senses by dressing up her little girls in dainty dresses with bows and ribbons. Who tells them they will one day marry a prince; although I did have Prince Harry lined up for my youngest and Prince William for my oldest, until I saw what happened to Princess Diana. I actually came across a Christmas recording of our family opening gifts just when my daughters received the Disney Snow White movie from a relative. I found myself saying on the tape: I thought about getting this for you, but I decided that I didn't want you to grow up to marry a prince. It's better to be the queen.
When I was growing up, I always thought I would be another Michelangelo. The female one. I had talent, but I learned too late that talent alone is not enough; it needs an agent or a selling outlet. Artists are not great self promoters. Maybe it wasn't too late; maybe it was just my destiny. I never planned my goals further than getting out of Mississippi and staying out.
To be an artist is to be self-absorbed and a mother cannot afford to be. An artist is selfish and a mother can't always be; even if she wants to be and can afford to be self-absorbed. Art can be a vehicle that transports an artist through a world of self-indulgence, fame, and immortality. For me, it's a very personal creative outlet to express what I think should be a universal thought.
Instead I find myself on a completely different road of twists and turns that are not in my nature. That is, being a mother. A mother to daughters. There are great mothers and there are not so great mothers. I never ever thought of myself as a good mother; much less great one, of course. There is a talent to being a mother too; just like, being an artist.
I did not fall into being an artist. I was born that way. I did fall into motherhood. When one is falling into anything; one loses ones mind momentarily. I am still falling.
On the days that I feel I have landed, I ask myself. How did I get here?
In between all the questions there are a few answers. I must have been a fairly good mother as my daughters have not completely banned me from their face book page; and yes, I have been deleted a few times when leaving 'motherly' embarrassing comments. My daughters like coming home to visit for a short time. The bad mother in me wants them to stay away so I can be that self-indulgent artist.
Obviously I did transfer my creativity to my daughters; sometimes in an odd way. Maybe my oldest daughter gets her schizophrenia-bipolar symptoms from me; an illness that did not quite transfer completely into the abnormal behavior of an artist. Both of them, gladly, like to drag my withering mind along into their world of adventure if only to keep me from falling back into a state of senility so they won't have to take care of me in my old age. It's up to me if I want to open up my mind to new experiences or just sit on the fence.
Last night my youngest daughter encouraged me to draw again while she drew in her notebook. You would think a mother would be encouraging her daughter; but we are beginning that mother daughter transference; in which the oldest becomes the kid and the youngest, becomes the adult.
I always knew God was a little schizophrenic when he created mankind or how else did we get so mentally reversible within one life time. No sane person would do this to themselves.
God has the ultimate imagination and anything a human can imagine or create will never come close. I thought I was a very good artist with a great imagination, until I saw my daughters growing up into amazon like creatures compared to my diminutive frame. I wonder how anyone could ever imagine; much less create, a human being that could possibly come out of a small orifice.
Maybe He is just a little perverted; after all, since I still haven't quite gotten over the body positions we have to get into; in order, to create another human being. What's up with that? Why can't we just poke each other in the arm?
If my daughters knew I was writing this; they would not be horrified because they do have my creative mind that only God could have imagined.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
At the Military Ball It Was PTSD
It's too bad we are headed out for Montana today, as I could have stayed longer at the Army Military Ball last night and danced a few dances. They always have oldies that are fun to dance too.
It was fun. We go every year to the Military ball and it is a wonderful feeling to belong, even as veterans, my husband and I are recognized by standing, as ones who gave to the support for the freedom of America.
Because Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) is becoming more prevalent among our returning soldiers from war zones, it is a major topic these days with more emphasis put on public awareness through movies, the Internet and among casual acquaintances like last night.
This night there was a trailer for a new movie out this summer called The Dry Land about PTSD. It is getting awards for bringing this mental illness to the forefront again; as it has been mentioned in the past by others. The actors were present. I have seen them act before in some of my favorite sitcoms and in some movies.
One of my facebook friends who sat with us and whose husband is an Air Force 3 Star General, mentioned that Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger, just the day before, at a press conference in which her husband introduced the Governor; pledged 20 million dollars to the California returning veterans with mental illness. We both said: Where is he getting the money? I heard from NAMI organization that the State is cutting mental illness programs and taking the money for something else. California has no money.
Promises Promises.
I remember when Angelia Jolie said she was so proud to have fought for a bill to be passed through congress because it took a few years; only to find out later that the bill is only a pledge, really. A pledge with no money in the pot. Now she had to raise the money to support the bill or find someone in congress who would earmark her bill in the next great spending frenzy of congressional leaders. Remember, it's NOT their money; only their slush fund: referred to in the dictionary as: political bribery.
We always forget the Veterans. There are so many homeless Veterans to prove it. Why is this?
Is it because of boot camp? Soldiers who take a beating come hell or high water without complaining about their status? Who are trained to take orders without questioning them. They never ask for help or support because they are the ones everyone else depend upon for "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness."
What is the mentality behind giving the least to those who give the most?
It was fun. We go every year to the Military ball and it is a wonderful feeling to belong, even as veterans, my husband and I are recognized by standing, as ones who gave to the support for the freedom of America.
Because Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) is becoming more prevalent among our returning soldiers from war zones, it is a major topic these days with more emphasis put on public awareness through movies, the Internet and among casual acquaintances like last night.
This night there was a trailer for a new movie out this summer called The Dry Land about PTSD. It is getting awards for bringing this mental illness to the forefront again; as it has been mentioned in the past by others. The actors were present. I have seen them act before in some of my favorite sitcoms and in some movies.
One of my facebook friends who sat with us and whose husband is an Air Force 3 Star General, mentioned that Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger, just the day before, at a press conference in which her husband introduced the Governor; pledged 20 million dollars to the California returning veterans with mental illness. We both said: Where is he getting the money? I heard from NAMI organization that the State is cutting mental illness programs and taking the money for something else. California has no money.
Promises Promises.
I remember when Angelia Jolie said she was so proud to have fought for a bill to be passed through congress because it took a few years; only to find out later that the bill is only a pledge, really. A pledge with no money in the pot. Now she had to raise the money to support the bill or find someone in congress who would earmark her bill in the next great spending frenzy of congressional leaders. Remember, it's NOT their money; only their slush fund: referred to in the dictionary as: political bribery.
We always forget the Veterans. There are so many homeless Veterans to prove it. Why is this?
Is it because of boot camp? Soldiers who take a beating come hell or high water without complaining about their status? Who are trained to take orders without questioning them. They never ask for help or support because they are the ones everyone else depend upon for "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness."
What is the mentality behind giving the least to those who give the most?
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Extremes
Do you ever feel that your brain is total mush when listening to the political talking heads giving pros and cons on an issue.
Sometimes when I hear one side, I agree; then I hear the opposing side; and I agree. Especially when I have no clue of what they are talking about.
The good news is that at least I am open. I was going to say open "minded" but I would have to have a mind.
I did not like Bush, the Republican; and I do not like Obama, the Democrat, so I have canceled myself out.
I have come to the conclusion that each issue stands alone; neither to the right or left of political fodder.
Having listened to the talking heads about the attack by Israel on the Turkish ship coming into the Gaza Strip;
it boils down to ethnic and religious intolerance. I understand the Israelis being upset having a ship come into the area that could be carrying weapons; especially when that ship refused to be inspected before landing.
I understand the Turks thinking they have a right to land first before being attacked in International waters; but we all know they did not want an inspection no matter where it was.
On the other hand, I don't think the Israelis and the Arabs will ever see eye to eye especially when rogue nations like Iran are allowed to make unsolicited threats.
Since I don't see any hope of either one of them compromising on these issues; I think they should go ahead and destroy each other.
The other religious issue that is in the news: The argument for and against a Mosque being built on Ground Zero, the Twin Towers location. The Muslim say they are honoring the victims, some of which were Muslims who died in the building. The Christians feel the Radical Muslims caused the destruction and the Muslims have no right to put a Mosque where other religious people have died. That would be like planting a flag of victory in the eyes of some religious groups.
If I wanted to build a Church on desecrated grounds where Muslims died by the hands of radical Christians; and, I was told it would be offensive to the Muslims; I would back off.
The Muslims, going before a city council to argue their point: "Let me shove this Mosque down your throat, to show you how much I care".
What is their point?
Sometimes when I hear one side, I agree; then I hear the opposing side; and I agree. Especially when I have no clue of what they are talking about.
The good news is that at least I am open. I was going to say open "minded" but I would have to have a mind.
I did not like Bush, the Republican; and I do not like Obama, the Democrat, so I have canceled myself out.
I have come to the conclusion that each issue stands alone; neither to the right or left of political fodder.
Having listened to the talking heads about the attack by Israel on the Turkish ship coming into the Gaza Strip;
it boils down to ethnic and religious intolerance. I understand the Israelis being upset having a ship come into the area that could be carrying weapons; especially when that ship refused to be inspected before landing.
I understand the Turks thinking they have a right to land first before being attacked in International waters; but we all know they did not want an inspection no matter where it was.
On the other hand, I don't think the Israelis and the Arabs will ever see eye to eye especially when rogue nations like Iran are allowed to make unsolicited threats.
Since I don't see any hope of either one of them compromising on these issues; I think they should go ahead and destroy each other.
The other religious issue that is in the news: The argument for and against a Mosque being built on Ground Zero, the Twin Towers location. The Muslim say they are honoring the victims, some of which were Muslims who died in the building. The Christians feel the Radical Muslims caused the destruction and the Muslims have no right to put a Mosque where other religious people have died. That would be like planting a flag of victory in the eyes of some religious groups.
If I wanted to build a Church on desecrated grounds where Muslims died by the hands of radical Christians; and, I was told it would be offensive to the Muslims; I would back off.
The Muslims, going before a city council to argue their point: "Let me shove this Mosque down your throat, to show you how much I care".
What is their point?
So You Want to Be a Mystery
So you want to be a mystery.
As time passes so does the memory
When there is nothing left
But a flicking light that fades away.
A mystery no more.
As time passes so does the memory
When there is nothing left
But a flicking light that fades away.
A mystery no more.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
We Punched a Hole in the Planet....
Flying over Earth in my mini- brain, I noticed we punched a hole in the planet and we can't plug it up and it won't stop leaking.
Where is Hans Brinker, when you need him? The Hero of Haarlem who saved his little town from drowning by putting his finger in the dyke. Novelist Mary M. Dodge in her imaginary wisdom made him come alive and when others heard the story and did not believe Hans was a true living little hero; she apparently had one of her other imaginary characters come alive to back up the story:
"... that little boy represents the spirit of the whole country. Not a leak can show itself anywhere either in its politics, honor, or public safety, that a million fingers are not ready to stop it, at any cost."
http://members.chello.nl/m.jong9/map12/hansbrinker.html
Apparently there is a lack of integrity, and public safety in America; but never a lack of politics in our governmental system. Unfortunately it will take more than Hans's little finger; Obama and BP's big heads to stop the gushing vein of oil and gas. It will take imagination.
I know there is a solution so simple that no one thought of it. Someone must be experimenting in their sinks. Try stopping olive oil from gushing out of a pipe. Would you use dirt and water (mud), or balls and tires?
Help me out here.
Where is Hans Brinker, when you need him? The Hero of Haarlem who saved his little town from drowning by putting his finger in the dyke. Novelist Mary M. Dodge in her imaginary wisdom made him come alive and when others heard the story and did not believe Hans was a true living little hero; she apparently had one of her other imaginary characters come alive to back up the story:
"... that little boy represents the spirit of the whole country. Not a leak can show itself anywhere either in its politics, honor, or public safety, that a million fingers are not ready to stop it, at any cost."
http://members.chello.nl/m.jong9/map12/hansbrinker.html
Apparently there is a lack of integrity, and public safety in America; but never a lack of politics in our governmental system. Unfortunately it will take more than Hans's little finger; Obama and BP's big heads to stop the gushing vein of oil and gas. It will take imagination.
I know there is a solution so simple that no one thought of it. Someone must be experimenting in their sinks. Try stopping olive oil from gushing out of a pipe. Would you use dirt and water (mud), or balls and tires?
Help me out here.
Memorial Day
It was rather sad today. Kira, our dog, wanted to chase a hungry coyote to the detriment of her life. My husband left on a business trip. The lone walk with the dog along the bike trail punctuated by laughter and music from backyard parties only highlighted the loneliness. Kira was sad too because she was leash bound since she likes to play dangerously chasing coyotes.
To break the monotony of watching oil spills and politics, I started watching the reruns of The Band of Brothers. A WWII mini series which I had seen years ago. It was created to perfection for most parts and I remembered most of it. I admired the details in the color and material of the uniforms; the simple life of living without cell phones, computers and even a television. People could and would communicate without those interferences; slowing down life, if only long enough to stimulate the imagination. I am sure that generation of innovators would have plugged up the oil spill by now.
I could see riding around on those old WWII military motorcycles built for two; although it looked scary on those unpaved roads; it was war and I would be counting my days anyway.
I thought it would be really great to belong to "a band of brothers," specially as the only female.
They were on an honorable mission and had to stick together come rain or shine; hell or high water, snow or whatever. I was drawn into the atmospheric smoldering gray countryside of that war era through the subliminal ghostly trumpeting notes fading away in the distance; reminiscent of fallen soldiers who died for our freedom resounding their courage to continue on with the good fight for freedom and our own personal destiny.
Romanticizing the era of a simpler life and wishing I had belonged to that' band of brothers' on that glorious mission when.....
....coming upon an unsuspecting regiment of German soldiers, they machine gunned the living daylights through every one of them with one last assassination shot through the head...
well...maybe, not, so romantic.
To break the monotony of watching oil spills and politics, I started watching the reruns of The Band of Brothers. A WWII mini series which I had seen years ago. It was created to perfection for most parts and I remembered most of it. I admired the details in the color and material of the uniforms; the simple life of living without cell phones, computers and even a television. People could and would communicate without those interferences; slowing down life, if only long enough to stimulate the imagination. I am sure that generation of innovators would have plugged up the oil spill by now.
I could see riding around on those old WWII military motorcycles built for two; although it looked scary on those unpaved roads; it was war and I would be counting my days anyway.
I thought it would be really great to belong to "a band of brothers," specially as the only female.
They were on an honorable mission and had to stick together come rain or shine; hell or high water, snow or whatever. I was drawn into the atmospheric smoldering gray countryside of that war era through the subliminal ghostly trumpeting notes fading away in the distance; reminiscent of fallen soldiers who died for our freedom resounding their courage to continue on with the good fight for freedom and our own personal destiny.
Romanticizing the era of a simpler life and wishing I had belonged to that' band of brothers' on that glorious mission when.....
....coming upon an unsuspecting regiment of German soldiers, they machine gunned the living daylights through every one of them with one last assassination shot through the head...
well...maybe, not, so romantic.
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