I recently moved. After a very long final day of moving into the new and cleaning the old, I returned to my new apartment at about 11pm. With one last car full of refrigerator/freezer stuff and assorted odds and ends unloaded I first gave in to hunger; no gas to cook with{surprise!}, no grill and no microwave, so...cheese and crackers it is! Then I gave in to exhaustion, falling asleep on the couch and then retiring to the sparse new bedroom for a solid night's sleep.
Until..... I awoke at about 6am hearing a car approaching from the house behind mine (a shared, right of way driveway) and then the car stopped, idling. Curious, I look out to see an empty space where I believed my car to be (shit!) and my new neighbor stopped in the driveway. Relief (my car was not stolen) turned to chagrin ( my car was blocking the drive) as I dashed downstairs and outside bleary eyed in my slippers. And then chagrin mixed with embarrassment as I got out and realized that not only had I left the car blocking the drive but I had also left the passenger door open (all night!) on what had been my last trip in the night before with arms loaded. I close the (very frosty in and out) car door and approach my neighbor introducing myself and apologizing at the same time. Her response doesn't make sense for either my apology or introduction (reminder, it was 6am and I was bleary minded as well as bleary eyed) so I try again, something like " I am sooo sorry, I just moved in yesterday, I guess it was a long day and....uh.... my name is The Keeper" . This time there is no reply at all, but I now realize why her initial response puzzled me; she hadn't been speaking to me, she was speaking into her two way radio. Then her silence ends with something like " Ok thanks, I think he's right here... Still sleepy and puzzled I introduce myself again, hand extended- "Hi, sorry about this, I'm the Keeper heh heh..." "I know" she says, "I just called in your plate, my name is Detective Cassie Mcleary with the Vermont State Police." Ohhh yeah, now I remember hearing that there was a cop living behind me. But no longer driving a cruiser, the recently promoted Detective is driving an unmarked sedan. This was all slowly falling into place in my still sleepy and reeling brain as she explained that my vehicle looked a little suspicious and possibly stolen, being left in the middle of a driveway with a door wide open on what happened to be the morning after Halloween.
Nice to meet you neighbor....I mean Officer....I mean Detective....er...eh, ummm, I'll just be moving my car now, um, sorry...
At least the battery hadn't died.
Peace to the neighbors and the Planet...
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Talking on the Phone-How times have changed
I was talking with a friend yesterday (in person) and we were both commenting how neither of us likes talking on the phone much (as those around us talked or fiddled with their phones). I asked her if she felt the same even in high school when most teenage girls are on the phone as much as possible. "Are you kidding me?" she replied" we had an egg timer by the phone-only one to three minutes per call !" And that's when it struck me how quickly phone usage changed in less than one generation.
Growing up in my small town-you only had to dial five digits for a local call-the last one of the prefix and then the 4 digit remainder. It seemed like a huge hassle when the change was made and we had to dial, gasp, all seven digits!. And with rotary phones, people lamented having to dial numbers with nines and zeroes. Our out of state relatives and friends must have hated calling us...802-875-3007-all those 7's, 8's and 0's! But it did provide my father a level of personal satisfaction when giving out our last four numbers as; Three, James Bond. Huh? invariably was replied. "You know, three, double O-Seven" would be his smiling answer.
A second phone in the house seemed like the ultimate in luxury-especially when some friends and neighbors still had "party lines". That's party line as a phone term not a political term. If I remember correctly, you would dial a friend's "party line" and all of the households' (parties') phones on that line would ring. And if the wrong "party" picked up I think they hung up, but the phone could "ring through" until the right party picked up. Kind of funny when you think that now it seems like everyone in the house has there own phone, even young kids, and back then a single line was shared among separate households!
And then there were beepers (late 80's early 90"s?). Do they still exist (outside of the ones you get at busy chain restaurants letting you know when your table is available)? If you saw someone who wasn't reasonably well dressed with a beeper ( a Doctor) you wouldn't be going out on a limb to suggest that they might be at the other end of the social/professional spectrum ( a dealer). Actually, come to think of it a friend of mine is an electrician who currently uses a beeper. Not sure why. He's got a cell. Wait-I know! For some reason beepers (and texting) often work when a cell won't. But if you get beeped and you can't call to find out what it's about...then what?
Next were the first generation cell phones-often car phones hard wired into your car with a sizable antenna on top (though not as big as a CB antenna-remember when those were the rage? beyond truckers, I mean......they still use them....right?) OR a "portable" version that resembled a large purse or lunch box. Then we "downsized" to cell phones that were larger than our cordless phones at home! Much to the embarrassment of our young but still cognizant children. I think they called them Fred Flintstone phones (Wilmaaaaaa!!!) They were soooo relieved when we finally got phones that would fit in our pocket.
Now we have these "cellphones" that are used less and less like phones and more like hand held PC's or, music/video devices, or game platforms. Except for me. I think I am one of the few people whose phone is "only" a phone. I like it like that. My phone is a phone dammit!
Crazy I tell ya. If Spock and Kirk had only known back in '70... (or whenever they were trekking about with their "communicators"...)
Beam me up indeed.
Peace to the Party Line...
Growing up in my small town-you only had to dial five digits for a local call-the last one of the prefix and then the 4 digit remainder. It seemed like a huge hassle when the change was made and we had to dial, gasp, all seven digits!. And with rotary phones, people lamented having to dial numbers with nines and zeroes. Our out of state relatives and friends must have hated calling us...802-875-3007-all those 7's, 8's and 0's! But it did provide my father a level of personal satisfaction when giving out our last four numbers as; Three, James Bond. Huh? invariably was replied. "You know, three, double O-Seven" would be his smiling answer.
A second phone in the house seemed like the ultimate in luxury-especially when some friends and neighbors still had "party lines". That's party line as a phone term not a political term. If I remember correctly, you would dial a friend's "party line" and all of the households' (parties') phones on that line would ring. And if the wrong "party" picked up I think they hung up, but the phone could "ring through" until the right party picked up. Kind of funny when you think that now it seems like everyone in the house has there own phone, even young kids, and back then a single line was shared among separate households!
And then there were beepers (late 80's early 90"s?). Do they still exist (outside of the ones you get at busy chain restaurants letting you know when your table is available)? If you saw someone who wasn't reasonably well dressed with a beeper ( a Doctor) you wouldn't be going out on a limb to suggest that they might be at the other end of the social/professional spectrum ( a dealer). Actually, come to think of it a friend of mine is an electrician who currently uses a beeper. Not sure why. He's got a cell. Wait-I know! For some reason beepers (and texting) often work when a cell won't. But if you get beeped and you can't call to find out what it's about...then what?
Next were the first generation cell phones-often car phones hard wired into your car with a sizable antenna on top (though not as big as a CB antenna-remember when those were the rage? beyond truckers, I mean......they still use them....right?) OR a "portable" version that resembled a large purse or lunch box. Then we "downsized" to cell phones that were larger than our cordless phones at home! Much to the embarrassment of our young but still cognizant children. I think they called them Fred Flintstone phones (Wilmaaaaaa!!!) They were soooo relieved when we finally got phones that would fit in our pocket.
Now we have these "cellphones" that are used less and less like phones and more like hand held PC's or, music/video devices, or game platforms. Except for me. I think I am one of the few people whose phone is "only" a phone. I like it like that. My phone is a phone dammit!
Crazy I tell ya. If Spock and Kirk had only known back in '70... (or whenever they were trekking about with their "communicators"...)
Beam me up indeed.
Peace to the Party Line...
Friday, September 30, 2011
Fall in Love, Fallen Love
Sun shining brightly
Even on a cold, Fall day
Frozen hands, warm hearts...
Love was in the air
That cold, cold October day
Frozen hands, warm hearts
The cold winds of change
Blew that love, like dying leaves
Frozen hands, cold heart
TG-
I love winter, the snow, the cold. the entire landscape sleeping beneath a blanket of snow. Spring brings rebirth, activity, new flowers and raging rivers. Summer literally buzzes with life, the contrast of an electric blue sky and verdant green fields and forests. And then there is Fall. There is, of course, the colors. But there is also the crisp morning air with the frost sparkling in the morning sun. Or going for a walk in the late afternoon or early evening, a light breeze rustling the fallen leaves and carrying the unmistakable scent of Autumn, the moon rising into the darkening sky. Yes, there has always been a romantic feeling in the air, for me, when Fall rolls around. And yet there is something bittersweet about the season as well. There is the color and the romance, but there is also that feeling of the beginning of the end, the cycle of the seasons coming full circle.
Fall is still has a romantic feel for me, but it is a colder season without a warm heart. When I read the haiku triplet above it seemed to capture the essence of all of this, what Fall feels like to me now.
Peace to the Planet this season and every season...
Even on a cold, Fall day
Frozen hands, warm hearts...
Love was in the air
That cold, cold October day
Frozen hands, warm hearts
The cold winds of change
Blew that love, like dying leaves
Frozen hands, cold heart
TG-
I love winter, the snow, the cold. the entire landscape sleeping beneath a blanket of snow. Spring brings rebirth, activity, new flowers and raging rivers. Summer literally buzzes with life, the contrast of an electric blue sky and verdant green fields and forests. And then there is Fall. There is, of course, the colors. But there is also the crisp morning air with the frost sparkling in the morning sun. Or going for a walk in the late afternoon or early evening, a light breeze rustling the fallen leaves and carrying the unmistakable scent of Autumn, the moon rising into the darkening sky. Yes, there has always been a romantic feeling in the air, for me, when Fall rolls around. And yet there is something bittersweet about the season as well. There is the color and the romance, but there is also that feeling of the beginning of the end, the cycle of the seasons coming full circle.
Fall is still has a romantic feel for me, but it is a colder season without a warm heart. When I read the haiku triplet above it seemed to capture the essence of all of this, what Fall feels like to me now.
Peace to the Planet this season and every season...
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Night Sky
The phone call caught her off guard. They hadn't exactly kept in close contact but had stayed in touch through the years. Hadn't heard from him, in fact, for over two years when she got the call. Still stunned, it brought her instantly back to that night in the spring of 1977.
The train was almost as dingy and depressing as her month long stay on the dreary and desolate little island off the coast of Newfoundland, a school program for seniors. Two hours down, seven more still to go. Bored and tired, yet unable to sleep, she stared out the window at the blanket of thick clouds in the night sky overhead. There was nothing else to look at.
Until this character teetered by, rocking with the motion of the train, headed toward the cramped bathroom in the back of the nearly empty car. From under his floppy hat she caught his smile and his eye. She smiled too, but only after he had passed.
She looked out the window again and noticed a small break in the clouds. A round hole filled with stars, like a window to the cosmos. It looked like all the stars in the whole sky were filling this small hole in the clouds. Feeling and hearing the train rhythmically rolling over the tracks, and seeing these stars pouring out of the clouds, she was mesmerized; lost in this miniature universe.
"Beautiful isn't it?" She turned to find the voice coming from the seat behind her even though she knew it was him. Before she processed the deep voice and unusual accent (just as she had imagined it might be as she had stared at the stars seconds before) and before she even saw him, she knew. She wasn't startled ( had she been expecting him?) and she wasn't shy, yet she couldn't find her voice, so she simply nodded and smiled in reply. She looked back out at the growing patch of stars. How long had he been there? She peeked back between the seat and the window-he was looking out at the stars, but still felt her gaze, and smiled.
For quite a while it went like this. Silence except for the tracks passing below the train. Unspoken was the feeling of connection between the two; a strange attraction between two seeming opposites at least by outward appearances. From the hills in Vermont, she was seventeen, and while neither callow nor naive, there was a brightness to her that the world had yet to tarnish. He was from Manhattan, and beyond his scruff, scars and tattoos (the om symbol on his left hand and the Hamsa hand on his right) his eyes reflected the turmoil he had seen throughout his forty years. They also reflected a warmth and strength that beckoned to those who could see past the pain.
She realized she had been staring into those eyes when, finally he stood and moved to the seat next to her, taking her hand as he sat. " I am Talif" he said. "Lilia" she returned, shaking his hand. With neither letting go ,they looked out together on the ever expanding blanket of stars now spreading above them. Silence and introductions behind them, they talked and carried on like old mates. Discussing books, movies, his past, her future and a spirituality that they seemed to share, the hours flew by. Until the whistle blew for her stop and they hastily exchanged addresses and phone numbers in the dawn of the day with just a few stars still visible to the west.
Lilia had loved getting his letters, long and elaborate. And through the years they had had those phone calls, occasionally going into the early morning hours as they each looked out different windows into the same night sky. They shared and encouraged each other, leaving indelible marks on each other's hearts and minds. But through all the letters, all the conversations, starting with that night on the train, there was an undercurrent, a sense of missing what could have been.
That was the saddest part of losing Talif. Letting the tears flow and fall freely, she put the phone down and looked out at the stars above.
The train was almost as dingy and depressing as her month long stay on the dreary and desolate little island off the coast of Newfoundland, a school program for seniors. Two hours down, seven more still to go. Bored and tired, yet unable to sleep, she stared out the window at the blanket of thick clouds in the night sky overhead. There was nothing else to look at.
Until this character teetered by, rocking with the motion of the train, headed toward the cramped bathroom in the back of the nearly empty car. From under his floppy hat she caught his smile and his eye. She smiled too, but only after he had passed.
She looked out the window again and noticed a small break in the clouds. A round hole filled with stars, like a window to the cosmos. It looked like all the stars in the whole sky were filling this small hole in the clouds. Feeling and hearing the train rhythmically rolling over the tracks, and seeing these stars pouring out of the clouds, she was mesmerized; lost in this miniature universe.
"Beautiful isn't it?" She turned to find the voice coming from the seat behind her even though she knew it was him. Before she processed the deep voice and unusual accent (just as she had imagined it might be as she had stared at the stars seconds before) and before she even saw him, she knew. She wasn't startled ( had she been expecting him?) and she wasn't shy, yet she couldn't find her voice, so she simply nodded and smiled in reply. She looked back out at the growing patch of stars. How long had he been there? She peeked back between the seat and the window-he was looking out at the stars, but still felt her gaze, and smiled.
For quite a while it went like this. Silence except for the tracks passing below the train. Unspoken was the feeling of connection between the two; a strange attraction between two seeming opposites at least by outward appearances. From the hills in Vermont, she was seventeen, and while neither callow nor naive, there was a brightness to her that the world had yet to tarnish. He was from Manhattan, and beyond his scruff, scars and tattoos (the om symbol on his left hand and the Hamsa hand on his right) his eyes reflected the turmoil he had seen throughout his forty years. They also reflected a warmth and strength that beckoned to those who could see past the pain.
She realized she had been staring into those eyes when, finally he stood and moved to the seat next to her, taking her hand as he sat. " I am Talif" he said. "Lilia" she returned, shaking his hand. With neither letting go ,they looked out together on the ever expanding blanket of stars now spreading above them. Silence and introductions behind them, they talked and carried on like old mates. Discussing books, movies, his past, her future and a spirituality that they seemed to share, the hours flew by. Until the whistle blew for her stop and they hastily exchanged addresses and phone numbers in the dawn of the day with just a few stars still visible to the west.
Lilia had loved getting his letters, long and elaborate. And through the years they had had those phone calls, occasionally going into the early morning hours as they each looked out different windows into the same night sky. They shared and encouraged each other, leaving indelible marks on each other's hearts and minds. But through all the letters, all the conversations, starting with that night on the train, there was an undercurrent, a sense of missing what could have been.
That was the saddest part of losing Talif. Letting the tears flow and fall freely, she put the phone down and looked out at the stars above.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Such a Whiner
Parenting is the toughest job but it is also the most rewarding. As I was writing the previous whiny post I realized this, even if I failed to note it.
And you know when you obsess over something in your head, and it gets bigger and bigger and then you talk to someone about it and they're all "........, um , yeah. So, what's the big deal?" and you're all "....um, yeah. I dunno. It seemed worse in my head..."?
So... these two somewhat unrelated items pretty much boil down to this: I am lucky and I am a whiner. I am a lucky whiner. And I am lucky to have this blog as an outlet. And I am lucky to have sisters who read this blog and care and share and give me a grounded perspective. I am lucky.
So WTF? So...BFD
PTTP...
And you know when you obsess over something in your head, and it gets bigger and bigger and then you talk to someone about it and they're all "........, um , yeah. So, what's the big deal?" and you're all "....um, yeah. I dunno. It seemed worse in my head..."?
So... these two somewhat unrelated items pretty much boil down to this: I am lucky and I am a whiner. I am a lucky whiner. And I am lucky to have this blog as an outlet. And I am lucky to have sisters who read this blog and care and share and give me a grounded perspective. I am lucky.
So WTF? So...BFD
PTTP...
Monday, September 26, 2011
WTF?
I find myself asking this more frequently of late. What the Fuck? More accurately, what the fuck am I doing? or what the fuck am I doing wrong?
As a parent, I need to figure some shit out. Fast. Otherwise, I fear that I am (not so) slowly going insane. I need to figure out how to get through to my kids without nagging, without lecturing, without repetition and the frustration that it generates. I am consistent and clear, I don't yell, and I try to be patient but that is getting harder. I try to be constructive in my criticism and I try to be accepting of their individuality and the quirks that may bring. So... WTF?
Being a parent is difficult. Being a single co-parent is more difficult (with much respect and props to true single parents, gotta be the most difficult). No more backup, no more tag-team, no more help or support, at least not in the moment when you need it most. I feel fortunate that the ex and I do seem to co-parent pretty well, remaining on the same page most of the time, and we do have each other to consult for major decision making etc. The ex and I have different styles and strengths (and weaknesses) of parenting, and they tended to mesh pretty well. Sure we disagreed about things but we also brought the other a different perspective as well as support. I guess I am still getting used to that different dynamic as a parent.
I have my children with me half of the time, a week with and a week without. Sometimes by the end of my week with them (just finished in case you were wondering as far as the timing of this post...) frustration has risen and perspective is hard to come by. And then there is the week without them, which gives me time, perspective, and a refill on the patience tank.
Much like my personal search for happiness and meaning in life (beyond my kids) I am searching for answers as a parent and trying to be a better Dad. In some ways I feel like I have found some answers and have become a better Dad (being more understanding, accepting and a better listener) but in other ways I am backsliding or still searching ( I feel less patient, more easily frustrated and don't communicate well).
So I tell myself to be patient, hold insanity at bay and keep trying and searching. And I remind myself that I am so lucky to have three fantastic kids who I love more than anything and who occasionally happen to push me and challenge me. Hmmmm....I think I just stumbled on a bit of perspective there. I want to be a better Dad, but my kids are helping me be a better Dad simply by the challenges they present.
While it's surely no answer, that perspective may just help in finding some.
Peace to the Planet...
As a parent, I need to figure some shit out. Fast. Otherwise, I fear that I am (not so) slowly going insane. I need to figure out how to get through to my kids without nagging, without lecturing, without repetition and the frustration that it generates. I am consistent and clear, I don't yell, and I try to be patient but that is getting harder. I try to be constructive in my criticism and I try to be accepting of their individuality and the quirks that may bring. So... WTF?
Being a parent is difficult. Being a single co-parent is more difficult (with much respect and props to true single parents, gotta be the most difficult). No more backup, no more tag-team, no more help or support, at least not in the moment when you need it most. I feel fortunate that the ex and I do seem to co-parent pretty well, remaining on the same page most of the time, and we do have each other to consult for major decision making etc. The ex and I have different styles and strengths (and weaknesses) of parenting, and they tended to mesh pretty well. Sure we disagreed about things but we also brought the other a different perspective as well as support. I guess I am still getting used to that different dynamic as a parent.
I have my children with me half of the time, a week with and a week without. Sometimes by the end of my week with them (just finished in case you were wondering as far as the timing of this post...) frustration has risen and perspective is hard to come by. And then there is the week without them, which gives me time, perspective, and a refill on the patience tank.
Much like my personal search for happiness and meaning in life (beyond my kids) I am searching for answers as a parent and trying to be a better Dad. In some ways I feel like I have found some answers and have become a better Dad (being more understanding, accepting and a better listener) but in other ways I am backsliding or still searching ( I feel less patient, more easily frustrated and don't communicate well).
So I tell myself to be patient, hold insanity at bay and keep trying and searching. And I remind myself that I am so lucky to have three fantastic kids who I love more than anything and who occasionally happen to push me and challenge me. Hmmmm....I think I just stumbled on a bit of perspective there. I want to be a better Dad, but my kids are helping me be a better Dad simply by the challenges they present.
While it's surely no answer, that perspective may just help in finding some.
Peace to the Planet...
Friday, September 23, 2011
The Lecture Circuit
It happens gradually. When you become a parent, slowly, it becomes apparent (couldn't resist) how much like your own parents you begin to sound.
I find myself lecturing my kids more and more lately, even recycling some old bits that my folks used to lay on me. What is most frustrating is that I seem to be recycling my own lectures more and more, repeating the same concepts over and over (and over). This is where the similarity between myself and my parents ends (as far as lecturing). Either I was more scared of my parents and there consequences than my kids are of me, I was a better listener than my kids (possible but doubtful), or I simply don't remember droning, repeated lecture after same lecture (highly possible, I have a gift for blocking things from my memory, intentional or otherwise).
When I am aware of lecturing, repeated or otherwise, I try to rectify it by being a verbal boxer, if you will, getting in and out with quick jabs, making my point and letting it go. But this never seems to work and I resort to lengthy lectures ( a barrage of haymakers?) It is just as ineffective though.
Some have said my expectations are too high and I'm too demanding. Well I certainly wouldn't lecture as much if this wasn't at least true in part. While I don't expect perfection of my kids I do want the best for them and I do expect that they will try to maximize their true potential.
And is it expecting too much that after a 25 minute shower a twelve year old emerges, you know....clean? I was lamenting this incident recently with my Mom and she asked if he was actually in the shower (he was). By inference she was subtly reminding me of an incident of my own, when I was about the same age, when I was supposed to be showering, but was discovered merely running the shower while I stood enjoying the steam in the bathroom. Busted.
So, call it karma, what goes around comes around etc., whatever. Meanwhile I'm just trying to get off the lecture circuit.
Peace to the Planet...
I find myself lecturing my kids more and more lately, even recycling some old bits that my folks used to lay on me. What is most frustrating is that I seem to be recycling my own lectures more and more, repeating the same concepts over and over (and over). This is where the similarity between myself and my parents ends (as far as lecturing). Either I was more scared of my parents and there consequences than my kids are of me, I was a better listener than my kids (possible but doubtful), or I simply don't remember droning, repeated lecture after same lecture (highly possible, I have a gift for blocking things from my memory, intentional or otherwise).
When I am aware of lecturing, repeated or otherwise, I try to rectify it by being a verbal boxer, if you will, getting in and out with quick jabs, making my point and letting it go. But this never seems to work and I resort to lengthy lectures ( a barrage of haymakers?) It is just as ineffective though.
Some have said my expectations are too high and I'm too demanding. Well I certainly wouldn't lecture as much if this wasn't at least true in part. While I don't expect perfection of my kids I do want the best for them and I do expect that they will try to maximize their true potential.
And is it expecting too much that after a 25 minute shower a twelve year old emerges, you know....clean? I was lamenting this incident recently with my Mom and she asked if he was actually in the shower (he was). By inference she was subtly reminding me of an incident of my own, when I was about the same age, when I was supposed to be showering, but was discovered merely running the shower while I stood enjoying the steam in the bathroom. Busted.
So, call it karma, what goes around comes around etc., whatever. Meanwhile I'm just trying to get off the lecture circuit.
Peace to the Planet...
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Continuously resounding in silence on the background of everything that exists
"It is not just a sound or vibration. It is not just a symbol. It is the entire cosmos,
whatever we can see, touch, hear and feel. Moreover, it is all that is within our
perception and all that is beyond our perception. It is the core of our very
existence. If you think of it only as a sound, a technique or a symbol of the Divine,
you will miss it altogether. ..... It is the mysterious cosmic energy that is the
substratum of all the things and all the beings of the entire universe. It is an
eternal song of the Divine. It is continuously resounding in silence on the
background of everything that exists." 1
"It" sounds pretty cool doesn't it? I especially like the last sentence; "It is continuously resounding in silence on the background of everything that exists." Wow. That is some powerful it.
What is it?
Om.
These are two of the many symbols representing Om (or Aum), and upon a little wiki-research (take it for what it's worth) it seems to have many meanings as well. I just found the above passage to be beautiful in language and meaning, and while I don't know if I believe it all, it's kinda cool just to ponder it. Om.
Peace to the Planet....
1-Amit Ray, from Om Chanting and Meditation
whatever we can see, touch, hear and feel. Moreover, it is all that is within our
perception and all that is beyond our perception. It is the core of our very
existence. If you think of it only as a sound, a technique or a symbol of the Divine,
you will miss it altogether. ..... It is the mysterious cosmic energy that is the
substratum of all the things and all the beings of the entire universe. It is an
eternal song of the Divine. It is continuously resounding in silence on the
background of everything that exists." 1
"It" sounds pretty cool doesn't it? I especially like the last sentence; "It is continuously resounding in silence on the background of everything that exists." Wow. That is some powerful it.
What is it?
Om.
Peace to the Planet....
1-Amit Ray, from Om Chanting and Meditation
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Movin' on
As much as I wish I never had to see the ex again, we are unfortunately linked for life by virtue of our children ( the lifelong link being unfortunate, not the children). So like it or not we will be co-parenting through the high school and college years, and even after that we will be sharing our childrens' marriages and grandchildren. When I first started to realize this, it was a bit daunting. I am more of a clean break, all or none, and out of sight out of mind type of person. None of which would describe my current and future relationship with my ex.
But I must be moving on a bit (time, acceptance, perspective etc.) because not only does our continued interaction not bother me, but other stuff big and small doesn't quite throw me into a tailspin the way it might have a year ago or even six months ago.
Two examples.
First is the recent passing of our anniversary, which I totally forgot about until late in the day when someone asked me the date and I had to think about it. And I never forgot our anniversary when we were together. We always celebrated in some way at least a nice dinner out, and some of the more notable ones marked with a return to our wedding location for a romantic weekend or a diamond ring. It was a big deal to me and to us.
Last year I was pretty disturbed when our anniversary rolled around and it was made worse when Hex was in town with the ex. So I was somewhat happy with and for myself this year when it was I was completely unaffected by it. ( big pat on the back for me, yayyy!)
The second and more notable event that let me know I had moved on a bit more was the recent news that the ex and Hex are going to get married. While I was caught off guard at the news I was hardly surprised (planned for next year I wouldn't be surprised if they are already hitched and next year is just for show/family).
It was actually kind of funny. She had just returned from Hex's Texas and was picking up our youngest son.
"I've got something to tell you" she told me solemnly. I thought someone had died. My immediate response? "Wow!" and then a few awkward chuckles. I asked how they were going to handle it (as far as logistics, moving etc) and she told me that she couldn't move. Yes you can, I told her. Not unless I had change my mind about custody of the kids, she said. Uh. no. So they would continue their long distance relationship indefinitely. Once again I will note that it would have been nice if she had put as much effort into our relationship of nineteen years (or at least the crisis at the end) as she must need to maintain this relationship and soon to be marriage to Hex.
I will admit that for the rest of that evening I may have been in a bit of shock., but it was short lived and certainly not the quagmire of bitterness and angst that I might have experienced even a short while ago.
Not totally unrelated, I have actually had a few dates over the summer and that has helped in the moving on process as well. Where will it go from here? Who knows? But even though I'm simply looking for companionship and friendship ( with or without benefits) and not a full blown relationship, this is another sure sign that I am now a little further along the road in this whole recovery process than even I had realized.
Peace to the Planet....
But I must be moving on a bit (time, acceptance, perspective etc.) because not only does our continued interaction not bother me, but other stuff big and small doesn't quite throw me into a tailspin the way it might have a year ago or even six months ago.
Two examples.
First is the recent passing of our anniversary, which I totally forgot about until late in the day when someone asked me the date and I had to think about it. And I never forgot our anniversary when we were together. We always celebrated in some way at least a nice dinner out, and some of the more notable ones marked with a return to our wedding location for a romantic weekend or a diamond ring. It was a big deal to me and to us.
Last year I was pretty disturbed when our anniversary rolled around and it was made worse when Hex was in town with the ex. So I was somewhat happy with and for myself this year when it was I was completely unaffected by it. ( big pat on the back for me, yayyy!)
The second and more notable event that let me know I had moved on a bit more was the recent news that the ex and Hex are going to get married. While I was caught off guard at the news I was hardly surprised (planned for next year I wouldn't be surprised if they are already hitched and next year is just for show/family).
It was actually kind of funny. She had just returned from Hex's Texas and was picking up our youngest son.
"I've got something to tell you" she told me solemnly. I thought someone had died. My immediate response? "Wow!" and then a few awkward chuckles. I asked how they were going to handle it (as far as logistics, moving etc) and she told me that she couldn't move. Yes you can, I told her. Not unless I had change my mind about custody of the kids, she said. Uh. no. So they would continue their long distance relationship indefinitely. Once again I will note that it would have been nice if she had put as much effort into our relationship of nineteen years (or at least the crisis at the end) as she must need to maintain this relationship and soon to be marriage to Hex.
I will admit that for the rest of that evening I may have been in a bit of shock., but it was short lived and certainly not the quagmire of bitterness and angst that I might have experienced even a short while ago.
Not totally unrelated, I have actually had a few dates over the summer and that has helped in the moving on process as well. Where will it go from here? Who knows? But even though I'm simply looking for companionship and friendship ( with or without benefits) and not a full blown relationship, this is another sure sign that I am now a little further along the road in this whole recovery process than even I had realized.
Peace to the Planet....
Friday, September 2, 2011
The beauty of Nature
If you look for it, there is beauty in almost every thing, and every situation. It's just that sometimes you have to look harder than others.
-TG
I have long appreciated the beauty of nature. Through learning, introspection, and greater awareness in general, my sense of nature's beauty has been heightened of late.
Amid the recent flooding of my neighborhood, my town, and my state I found myself able to see the beauty manifested in the raw power of flowing water. Nature's beauty allowed me a moment's rest from the stress of the day; wondering if the raging water outside my home would soon be in my home, and wondering whether and when to evacuate myself and my kids to a safer spot.
In the days since the flood waters receded, I have come to appreciate the beauty of nature even more. Human nature.
Friends, neighbors, community, the human family all coming together to help each other and give whatever we can. Sharing a home, a pump, a generator, a sandwich or whatever is needed. Maybe even a kind word, a smile or a hug. It's a beautiful thing.
Human nature is a fickle thing and often gets a bad rap, but there is nothing like a tough situation to bring people together, usually showing the better side of human nature.
I was reminded of the duality of our human species' behavior today, witnessing both extremes within minutes of each other. I had been working with a sales rep in my store when a woman and two children looked around for a few minutes, made a purchase, and left. Upon their exit, a man (the husband/dad?) yelled "ASSHOLES! Thanks for making me wait!" he hurried them into the car, slamming doors, and sped off. The sales rep and I were taken aback (as was a neighboring store owner who came in remarking "can you believe that guy?") We were all thinking the same thing; if he treats her and the kids this way in public....
Minutes later, still stunned that one person could treat another this way, another woman came in and shopped around, gathered a few things and made a purchase, noting that she was headed home from a week long vacation and wanted to spend as much as she could in our flood ravaged state before she left. Preparing to leave she turned and gave the sales rep a spontaneous hug then looked at me behind the counter and said she'd give me one too, but didn't want to make my wife or girlfriend jealous (which was a good natured jab at herself). Then she says "Aww what the heck!" and leaned well over the counter, arms out, offering a hearty hug for me as well. Wishing us both a good day, she left us with a smile. The rep and I looked at each other with silly grins of our own, and we noted that even though the world had lots of jerks like the first guy, there are still plenty of kind, generous, thoughtful and loving people in the world as well.
So here's to the finer side of human nature. It is still out there, everywhere, from the ordinary moments to the extraordinary.
Peace to the Planet...
-TG
I have long appreciated the beauty of nature. Through learning, introspection, and greater awareness in general, my sense of nature's beauty has been heightened of late.
Amid the recent flooding of my neighborhood, my town, and my state I found myself able to see the beauty manifested in the raw power of flowing water. Nature's beauty allowed me a moment's rest from the stress of the day; wondering if the raging water outside my home would soon be in my home, and wondering whether and when to evacuate myself and my kids to a safer spot.
In the days since the flood waters receded, I have come to appreciate the beauty of nature even more. Human nature.
Friends, neighbors, community, the human family all coming together to help each other and give whatever we can. Sharing a home, a pump, a generator, a sandwich or whatever is needed. Maybe even a kind word, a smile or a hug. It's a beautiful thing.
Human nature is a fickle thing and often gets a bad rap, but there is nothing like a tough situation to bring people together, usually showing the better side of human nature.
I was reminded of the duality of our human species' behavior today, witnessing both extremes within minutes of each other. I had been working with a sales rep in my store when a woman and two children looked around for a few minutes, made a purchase, and left. Upon their exit, a man (the husband/dad?) yelled "ASSHOLES! Thanks for making me wait!" he hurried them into the car, slamming doors, and sped off. The sales rep and I were taken aback (as was a neighboring store owner who came in remarking "can you believe that guy?") We were all thinking the same thing; if he treats her and the kids this way in public....
Minutes later, still stunned that one person could treat another this way, another woman came in and shopped around, gathered a few things and made a purchase, noting that she was headed home from a week long vacation and wanted to spend as much as she could in our flood ravaged state before she left. Preparing to leave she turned and gave the sales rep a spontaneous hug then looked at me behind the counter and said she'd give me one too, but didn't want to make my wife or girlfriend jealous (which was a good natured jab at herself). Then she says "Aww what the heck!" and leaned well over the counter, arms out, offering a hearty hug for me as well. Wishing us both a good day, she left us with a smile. The rep and I looked at each other with silly grins of our own, and we noted that even though the world had lots of jerks like the first guy, there are still plenty of kind, generous, thoughtful and loving people in the world as well.
So here's to the finer side of human nature. It is still out there, everywhere, from the ordinary moments to the extraordinary.
Peace to the Planet...
Friday, August 26, 2011
It's a long way to the top...
...if you want to rock and ro-o-oll.
Got this snappy little ditty by AC/DC firmly stuck in my head thanks to Jack Black and the movie "School of Rock".
Love the movie. Fun and funny. Jack Black is pretty talented in a number of ways-comedy, acting, vocals, not to mention he could do a comedy bit using nothing more than facial expressions and it would leave you laughing. The unoriginal storyline of the lovable loser who makes earnest but big mistakes, gets busted, then finds love, redemption or acceptance in the end woulnd't have been sucessful without the talents of Jack Black and his ten year old band mates.
Yes, he was their "teacher" but they tought him too.
See, now it's been a while since I've covered any of the stupid stuff category here in the blog, which this movie definitely is, but it also touches a bit on life as well. No love though. Unless you consider Joan Cusack's principal charactor getting hit on backstage by a barechested (other than the tattoo), leather clad rocker/poser.
I think I just did a movie review...wtf?
Got this snappy little ditty by AC/DC firmly stuck in my head thanks to Jack Black and the movie "School of Rock".
Love the movie. Fun and funny. Jack Black is pretty talented in a number of ways-comedy, acting, vocals, not to mention he could do a comedy bit using nothing more than facial expressions and it would leave you laughing. The unoriginal storyline of the lovable loser who makes earnest but big mistakes, gets busted, then finds love, redemption or acceptance in the end woulnd't have been sucessful without the talents of Jack Black and his ten year old band mates.
Yes, he was their "teacher" but they tought him too.
See, now it's been a while since I've covered any of the stupid stuff category here in the blog, which this movie definitely is, but it also touches a bit on life as well. No love though. Unless you consider Joan Cusack's principal charactor getting hit on backstage by a barechested (other than the tattoo), leather clad rocker/poser.
I think I just did a movie review...wtf?
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Miles to go
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives hisharness bells a shake
To ask if there's some mistake.
The only other sound's thesweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
robert frost
genius in so many ways, the simple repeating rhythms, the clever linking of rhymes from the third line of each stanza into the first, second and fourth lines of the following stanza, and then there is the eerie appreciation of the dark beauty found in nature and in life. The dreamlike perspective that views the dark depths as lovely, linked with the reality of obligations and life's long journey.
miles to go...
Peace to the Planet...
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his
To ask if there's some mistake.
The only other sound's the
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
robert frost
genius in so many ways, the simple repeating rhythms, the clever linking of rhymes from the third line of each stanza into the first, second and fourth lines of the following stanza, and then there is the eerie appreciation of the dark beauty found in nature and in life. The dreamlike perspective that views the dark depths as lovely, linked with the reality of obligations and life's long journey.
miles to go...
Peace to the Planet...
Friday, August 5, 2011
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Wow!
File this one under "Things I never thought I'd hear my daughter say"....
Wow! that's a big Dick's!
Thankfully she was referring to the sporting goods store and not the male anatomy, caught me a little of guard but I had to laugh...
Wow! that's a big Dick's!
Thankfully she was referring to the sporting goods store and not the male anatomy, caught me a little of guard but I had to laugh...
Saturday, July 16, 2011
The price of whine
Parents, myself occasionally included, are pushovers. Especially when our kids whine in public. It is often easier, and keeps everyone, parents, child, and siblings, happier when we just give in. That's the price of whine.
This point was driven home in my store today when a Mom and her two kids were shopping and after a while they each made their selections. Mom signed the credit card slip, and all was good. Until...the daughter discovered another item she wanted and that her brother had gotten two items while she had only gotten one...so far. Cue the whining, accompanied by waterworks. Mom started getting a little frustrated and grumpy so I tried to help, offering to the little one that the other stores they were headed to were sure to have something she'd like and if not maybe then her Mom would bring her back. It worked too. Momentarily. The whining stopped and they even made it out the door. But soon I could hear the whining resume from out on the sidewalk. A minute later they were back, and made a purchase that evened the sibling scale out and all three left the store practically skipping out the door, smiles all around. "Have a great day!" they waved.
So I am only being slightly sarcastic when I note that maybe, just maybe, Money can buy happiness. Shit, in this case it cost only $4.24.
What a bargain.
Peace to the Planet...
This point was driven home in my store today when a Mom and her two kids were shopping and after a while they each made their selections. Mom signed the credit card slip, and all was good. Until...the daughter discovered another item she wanted and that her brother had gotten two items while she had only gotten one...so far. Cue the whining, accompanied by waterworks. Mom started getting a little frustrated and grumpy so I tried to help, offering to the little one that the other stores they were headed to were sure to have something she'd like and if not maybe then her Mom would bring her back. It worked too. Momentarily. The whining stopped and they even made it out the door. But soon I could hear the whining resume from out on the sidewalk. A minute later they were back, and made a purchase that evened the sibling scale out and all three left the store practically skipping out the door, smiles all around. "Have a great day!" they waved.
So I am only being slightly sarcastic when I note that maybe, just maybe, Money can buy happiness. Shit, in this case it cost only $4.24.
What a bargain.
Peace to the Planet...
Monday, July 4, 2011
Five stages of Mourning, three stages of Jealousy...
...and a partridge in a pear tree.
Divorce can be like experiencing a death in the family, I had been warned. I have found this to be very true in my case. In fact for a while I thought it was the death of my family, and it was. But it was the death of my family that included my ex. After going through most of the five stages-depression, anger, bargaining, and denial, the last stage, acceptance, allowed me to realize that although I had lost my family unit as previously constituted, I still had a family. It's just a new family. Thank god for my children, because even though the worst part of the divorce for me was that they were innocent bystanders, they have been the best part of my life and have helped to get me through. I wish I was half as adaptable as they are.
So, like I said, I experienced the five stages of grief both for my marriage, and for my family as formerly constituted. Under the deceitful circumstances of the end of my marriage, I have also experienced several stages of jealousy as well.
The first stage of jealousy is the straightforward kind, I was jealous of him. What's she doing with him? What's he got that I don't? That should be me with her. etc. The next stage surprised me, but only a little. I was jealous of him being with my kids. First he's taken my place with her, now he's taking my place with them too? With some help and acceptance I came to realize that he may be spending time with my kids (still not easy) but he's never going to take my place. I am their Dad. I always will be. Nothing will ever change that.
There has been one aspect of both loss and jealousy that I was quite surprised to experience, and that is the loss of the relationship (and ensuing jealousy of his new relationship) with my former in-laws (ex-laws?).
I never came to call them Mom or Dad (too weird for me, I had a Mom and Dad), but they were very accepting of me and my relationship with the ex, they supported our choices, and in general we had a good healthy relationship. I also had a good relationship with the ex's sister and extended family as well, and got to know many of them quite well over our nineteen years together. In fact I got call from the ex's folks this past Father's Day wishing me well and thanking me for being a good Dad to their grandchildren. Thankfully they continued to support me right through the end of our marriage (and beyond), and while they are still a small part of my life simply be extension of my kids, it's obviously not the same. I miss having that relationship with them.
I am now beyond the acceptance stage in this particular mourning but it was brought to light a few months back. It was Passover and Hex was going to be spending it with two of my three kids, the ex and ex-laws. I was a little surprised when it bothered me just as much that he was going to be with the ex and kids as the fact that he was now taking my place with my ex-laws too. I found myself hoping that they hated him. I was jealous.
I don't like feeling jealous-who does? But working through all the stages and feelings and finally coming to the point of acceptance makes things easier. Not easy, easier. In fact my kids are on vacation with the ex and Hex (and his kids I think) right now, at my former sister in-law's house in Tahoe and I'm hardly jealous at all of that no good, scumbag motherfucker. OK so maybe I've got a little further to go on that part of the acceptance stage.
A related side note on...
Acceptance. On our penultimate anniversary I was about to move out of my home to give her the "space" she needed. It was a trial separation and it was the last thing I wanted to do but also the last thing I felt I could do to save our marriage. So we weren't exactly celebrating (although I still had a faint bit of hope) but we noted the occasion with some time alone, together. I honestly don't recall if I gave her anything other than a card, but I do recall what she gave me. It was a little glass "stone" or flat marble, and on it was printed the word, acceptance. At the time I was a bit miffed. Not because this was such a literal "token gift" but because it felt like she was telling me to "just get over it". Well even when you know what you need to do, doing it is different than knowing it. Being told by someone else, anyone else, what you know you need to do makes it even worse. I often thought of smashing that piece of glass into dust with a hammer, but I didn't. I actually carried it in my pocket for quite a while and I still have it, although the word has worn off.
It has taken me a while but I have finally received her gift of "Acceptance", but to be truthful it is a gift I have given myself.
Sometimes it comes easier than others but acceptance, for me, is kind of the turning point between the end of the healing process and the beginning of moving forward. It is also a fluid thing, I may be more accepting of a situation today and less tomorrow. It's a process, as they say.
Here's to acceptance...
Peace and Acceptance to the Planet...
Divorce can be like experiencing a death in the family, I had been warned. I have found this to be very true in my case. In fact for a while I thought it was the death of my family, and it was. But it was the death of my family that included my ex. After going through most of the five stages-depression, anger, bargaining, and denial, the last stage, acceptance, allowed me to realize that although I had lost my family unit as previously constituted, I still had a family. It's just a new family. Thank god for my children, because even though the worst part of the divorce for me was that they were innocent bystanders, they have been the best part of my life and have helped to get me through. I wish I was half as adaptable as they are.
So, like I said, I experienced the five stages of grief both for my marriage, and for my family as formerly constituted. Under the deceitful circumstances of the end of my marriage, I have also experienced several stages of jealousy as well.
The first stage of jealousy is the straightforward kind, I was jealous of him. What's she doing with him? What's he got that I don't? That should be me with her. etc. The next stage surprised me, but only a little. I was jealous of him being with my kids. First he's taken my place with her, now he's taking my place with them too? With some help and acceptance I came to realize that he may be spending time with my kids (still not easy) but he's never going to take my place. I am their Dad. I always will be. Nothing will ever change that.
There has been one aspect of both loss and jealousy that I was quite surprised to experience, and that is the loss of the relationship (and ensuing jealousy of his new relationship) with my former in-laws (ex-laws?).
I never came to call them Mom or Dad (too weird for me, I had a Mom and Dad), but they were very accepting of me and my relationship with the ex, they supported our choices, and in general we had a good healthy relationship. I also had a good relationship with the ex's sister and extended family as well, and got to know many of them quite well over our nineteen years together. In fact I got call from the ex's folks this past Father's Day wishing me well and thanking me for being a good Dad to their grandchildren. Thankfully they continued to support me right through the end of our marriage (and beyond), and while they are still a small part of my life simply be extension of my kids, it's obviously not the same. I miss having that relationship with them.
I am now beyond the acceptance stage in this particular mourning but it was brought to light a few months back. It was Passover and Hex was going to be spending it with two of my three kids, the ex and ex-laws. I was a little surprised when it bothered me just as much that he was going to be with the ex and kids as the fact that he was now taking my place with my ex-laws too. I found myself hoping that they hated him. I was jealous.
I don't like feeling jealous-who does? But working through all the stages and feelings and finally coming to the point of acceptance makes things easier. Not easy, easier. In fact my kids are on vacation with the ex and Hex (and his kids I think) right now, at my former sister in-law's house in Tahoe and I'm hardly jealous at all of that no good, scumbag motherfucker. OK so maybe I've got a little further to go on that part of the acceptance stage.
A related side note on...
Acceptance. On our penultimate anniversary I was about to move out of my home to give her the "space" she needed. It was a trial separation and it was the last thing I wanted to do but also the last thing I felt I could do to save our marriage. So we weren't exactly celebrating (although I still had a faint bit of hope) but we noted the occasion with some time alone, together. I honestly don't recall if I gave her anything other than a card, but I do recall what she gave me. It was a little glass "stone" or flat marble, and on it was printed the word, acceptance. At the time I was a bit miffed. Not because this was such a literal "token gift" but because it felt like she was telling me to "just get over it". Well even when you know what you need to do, doing it is different than knowing it. Being told by someone else, anyone else, what you know you need to do makes it even worse. I often thought of smashing that piece of glass into dust with a hammer, but I didn't. I actually carried it in my pocket for quite a while and I still have it, although the word has worn off.
It has taken me a while but I have finally received her gift of "Acceptance", but to be truthful it is a gift I have given myself.
Sometimes it comes easier than others but acceptance, for me, is kind of the turning point between the end of the healing process and the beginning of moving forward. It is also a fluid thing, I may be more accepting of a situation today and less tomorrow. It's a process, as they say.
Here's to acceptance...
Peace and Acceptance to the Planet...
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Some people...
One of my lesser qualities, one that I am working hard to address, is being a bit judge-mental (emphasis on judge, more emphasis on mental). But let's just say that there is a certain type of person that bothers me. A lot.
I am speaking of the type of person that feels that just because they can do something (or more specifically that they can get away with doing something), they will go ahead and do it. And I'm not talking about a fat guy wearing a speedo or an insecure woman getting too much cosmetic surgery. Granted they are both cases of bad judgement but they don't really affect other people (other than catching a glimpse of the "bad judgement" and at least at that point one can avert their eyes {but then again, sometimes it does have that car wreck quality where you find yourself staring in disbelief}). But I digress. What I am talking about is stuff that does affect other people. Directly. Stuff like working the system for unemployment/welfare/medicaid, or shoplifting, or even parking in a fire lane or handicapped spot. Some people seem to feel like these are victimless acts like jay walking or smoking pot. Most people know better.
Is it a sense of entitlement, feeling they are above the law/rules, or just a general sense of superiority?
Where I live, it often seems like all of the above.
Or maybe it's just a brain fart, kinda silent but deadly, and it still stinks.
So is it OK to be a little judgemental? Especially when, like in this case, it's not about judging between better (me) and worse (them) but about right (me) and wrong (them). Maybe that's just semantics. But who's to judge?
Peace to the WHOLE Planet...
I am speaking of the type of person that feels that just because they can do something (or more specifically that they can get away with doing something), they will go ahead and do it. And I'm not talking about a fat guy wearing a speedo or an insecure woman getting too much cosmetic surgery. Granted they are both cases of bad judgement but they don't really affect other people (other than catching a glimpse of the "bad judgement" and at least at that point one can avert their eyes {but then again, sometimes it does have that car wreck quality where you find yourself staring in disbelief}). But I digress. What I am talking about is stuff that does affect other people. Directly. Stuff like working the system for unemployment/welfare/medicaid, or shoplifting, or even parking in a fire lane or handicapped spot. Some people seem to feel like these are victimless acts like jay walking or smoking pot. Most people know better.
Maybe people that bend or break the rules and scam the system to obtain social assistance of any kind feel entitled or that no one will be hurt by them taking their little slice of the pie. The regulations are there for a reason, so their entitlement is misplaced. And clearly if they weren't taking "their little slice" there would be more pie for those who truly need/deserve it. Then, if you multiply by the number of people scamming the systems it is no longer a little slice, but now a big slice of a pie that otherwise wouldn't need to be so big. In other words the rest of us may not have to pay in quite so much because we wouldn't be feeding scammers.
Maybe people that shoplift feel entitled to steal thinking "This company is so big and wealthy they won't miss it, plus they've been getting rich on people like me", or "If this store is so lame they can't catch me they deserve to get ripped off.", or "Who is this really going to hurt?". For large companies it hurts plenty of people: stockholders who are not necessarily rich don't get their due profits or dividends, employees who may miss bonuses, promotions or worse... get fired, and even the wealthy upper management-these people who have worked hard deserve their fair share even if they are already well off. And for a small operator it is even more keenly felt. I own a store and when someone steals from me obviously it affects my profits, my income, and by extension my family. I have given serious consideration to putting up signs stating that if you steal from me you are stealing from my children, haven't yet but it is true. Trust me, I notice when something is missing, and it does hurt. Not just my bottom line either, I have a definite sense of being violated when someone has stolen from me. And big or small, it is difficult to completely eliminate theft so a store must include "shrinkage" into the budget, meaning that in the end, just like with social assistance, we all end up paying a bit more in the form of higher prices.
The parking example may seem harmless and inconsequential, but it's not (plus it is admittedly a huge pet peeve). Whether in the handicapped spot or in the Fire Lane, rarely is the car there for the "quick" moment or two imagined by the transgressor. To be honest, has a building ever burned to the ground because there was a car parked in the Fire Lane? Probably not. And I am sure it is quite rare that a handicapped person or their driver was unable to park because an able person took their spot. But this comes down to common decency-"my convenience is more important than your inconvenience". It is inconvenient for a person to have to circle a lot until a designated spot opens. And it is inconvenient and unsafe when people have to hop curbs, squeeze between bushes, snowbanks etc. or have to navigate around parked vehicles in what is typically a busy area like a fire lane.
Is it a sense of entitlement, feeling they are above the law/rules, or just a general sense of superiority?
Where I live, it often seems like all of the above.
Or maybe it's just a brain fart, kinda silent but deadly, and it still stinks.
So is it OK to be a little judgemental? Especially when, like in this case, it's not about judging between better (me) and worse (them) but about right (me) and wrong (them). Maybe that's just semantics. But who's to judge?
Peace to the WHOLE Planet...
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Peace
Peace comes from within
-Buddha
Peace has always held a pretty high place of importance for me .
Maybe it started as a kid in church. No longer particularly religious, I was raised in a strict Catholic household, so weekly Sunday Mass was a must (along with catechism). As a squirmy kid with energy, one of the highlights of mass was when you got to shake hands and offer a greeting of "Peace" or "Peace be with you" to anyone nearby. It was one of the few informal, genuine and non-scripted moments (stand up, sit down, kneel, mumble prayer, repeat) so other than some of the songs and, of course, the end of mass, Peace was the best part. (some feel that communion is the best, but I was never that crazy about the whole "body and blood of Christ" thing)
As a young adult, letting my freak flag fly, I was more of a general "Peace, dude" kind of guy. Especially having come of age in Reagan's Cold War 80's (You can't hug Children with Nuclear Arms-bumper sticker sported on my very own VW bus) and being a draft eligible man as the Gulf War broke out made me more of a "Peace, Not War" kind of guy. Still am.
Now being certifiably middle aged (OK, slightly past middle age) the peace I want most, the peace I search for, the peace I need, is inner peace. With time, reflection, work and meditation I am starting to find it. Mostly, I have found it within me. Turns out Buddha was right (about many things). Smart guy, that Buddha.
Peace to the Planet, and Peace be with You...
-Buddha
Peace has always held a pretty high place of importance for me .
Maybe it started as a kid in church. No longer particularly religious, I was raised in a strict Catholic household, so weekly Sunday Mass was a must (along with catechism). As a squirmy kid with energy, one of the highlights of mass was when you got to shake hands and offer a greeting of "Peace" or "Peace be with you" to anyone nearby. It was one of the few informal, genuine and non-scripted moments (stand up, sit down, kneel, mumble prayer, repeat) so other than some of the songs and, of course, the end of mass, Peace was the best part. (some feel that communion is the best, but I was never that crazy about the whole "body and blood of Christ" thing)
As a young adult, letting my freak flag fly, I was more of a general "Peace, dude" kind of guy. Especially having come of age in Reagan's Cold War 80's (You can't hug Children with Nuclear Arms-bumper sticker sported on my very own VW bus) and being a draft eligible man as the Gulf War broke out made me more of a "Peace, Not War" kind of guy. Still am.
Now being certifiably middle aged (OK, slightly past middle age) the peace I want most, the peace I search for, the peace I need, is inner peace. With time, reflection, work and meditation I am starting to find it. Mostly, I have found it within me. Turns out Buddha was right (about many things). Smart guy, that Buddha.
Peace to the Planet, and Peace be with You...
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Trying too hard/trying to make sense
Had a great time in DC a while back, chaperoning a group of middle schoolers, including my daughter, on a trip to our nation's capitol. We packed a lot into three full days-several Smithsonian museums (musea?) Arlington National Cemetery, most of the memorials and monuments, the Capitol building, the White House, National Zoo, National Archives, and more.
So much to see and do, but what I liked best was lunch with my daughter the first day there. Not the food itself-an overpriced burger and a bag of chips-but the fact that she chose to sit with me (though at the suggestion of her friend). For the rest of the trip both before and after, she pretty much avoided me. Silly me for thinking we might have some fun, you know...together. After we got home I pressed her a bit about it and she admitted that she probably would have had a better time had I not come along. Bruised ego aside (again) I understood. It wasn't that I was embarassing her, it was more that I was simply cramping her style, with her kind of looking over her shoulder for her Dad on what would have otherwise been a carefree school trip with her friends.
File this one under trying a little too hard maybe. When I really stopped to think about it, I couldn't blame her for feeling the way she did and I was glad she was at least honest with me about it.
I still had a great time-it just wasn't exactly what I had hoped it would be as far as sharing it with my daughter-although I do hope that in the future, having gained perspective with time passing, that she will eventually be glad that I went on the trip.
Peace to the Planet...
So much to see and do, but what I liked best was lunch with my daughter the first day there. Not the food itself-an overpriced burger and a bag of chips-but the fact that she chose to sit with me (though at the suggestion of her friend). For the rest of the trip both before and after, she pretty much avoided me. Silly me for thinking we might have some fun, you know...together. After we got home I pressed her a bit about it and she admitted that she probably would have had a better time had I not come along. Bruised ego aside (again) I understood. It wasn't that I was embarassing her, it was more that I was simply cramping her style, with her kind of looking over her shoulder for her Dad on what would have otherwise been a carefree school trip with her friends.
File this one under trying a little too hard maybe. When I really stopped to think about it, I couldn't blame her for feeling the way she did and I was glad she was at least honest with me about it.
I still had a great time-it just wasn't exactly what I had hoped it would be as far as sharing it with my daughter-although I do hope that in the future, having gained perspective with time passing, that she will eventually be glad that I went on the trip.
Peace to the Planet...
Summer's memories
The first day of Summer. The last day of school. It's days like this that make me want to be a kid again, with a summer full of adventure and carefree days ahead. Hot sunny days, long cool evenings, and a little thunder and lightning to liven things up.
For me summer was primarily spent at the town pool, the town's social center back then. Other than an occasional weekend (or the annual week long) at my Grandparents house at the Maine shore, I was either at the pool, at a neighborhood friend's house, or riding my bike somewhere in between. (no camp or grand vacations for me and my seven siblings) Simple times. Good times.
There was nothing like those summers when I was 9-12. Old enough to be independent (back then) and too young to have a job, girlfriend, a car or a care. If you didn't find any change in the deep end of the pool, you could round up five bottles or cans and the 25 cents would get you a candy bar or a soda. Life was good.
Summertime and the livin was easy....
Looking back I remember being anxious to grow up and experience all life had to offer. But looking back also makes me realize that in many ways (not all) that was a nearly perfect age and time, not exactly all downhill from there but, in so many ways it was a pinnacle of sorts. (Coincidentally {or is it ironically}the rec area where the town pool was located was known as "The Pinnacle" {on Lover's Lane no less}).
How does that quote go?-if only I knew then what I know now...no, even better the line from the Bob Dylan/Byrds song-My Back Pages--I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now.
Just looked up some of the #1 hits of 1977 and had a few laughs....some definite classics like Rod Stewart's "Tonight's the Night" (didn't know for the longest time what it was the night for...) and the Eagles' "Hotel California" but then there's Shaun Cassidy's "DaDooRonRon", David Soul's "Don't Give up on Us" and a couple of Andy Gibb's bubblegum classics. A crazy musical era that was punctuated by disco (ABBA and the Bee Gees), country rock (Eagles, Glen Campbell), funk (KC and the Sunshine Band and Rose Royce) Soul/R+B (Marvin Gaye and Stevie Wonder), crap (Mary McGregor and Debbi Boone) and utter crap (Barry Manilow, Cassidy and Gibb). Thankfully there were a few nuggets that still stand the test of time.
Here's the link for all the #1 hits of 1977 so you can look, laugh and reminisce for yourself...
Peace to the Planet....
For me summer was primarily spent at the town pool, the town's social center back then. Other than an occasional weekend (or the annual week long) at my Grandparents house at the Maine shore, I was either at the pool, at a neighborhood friend's house, or riding my bike somewhere in between. (no camp or grand vacations for me and my seven siblings) Simple times. Good times.
There was nothing like those summers when I was 9-12. Old enough to be independent (back then) and too young to have a job, girlfriend, a car or a care. If you didn't find any change in the deep end of the pool, you could round up five bottles or cans and the 25 cents would get you a candy bar or a soda. Life was good.
Summertime and the livin was easy....
Looking back I remember being anxious to grow up and experience all life had to offer. But looking back also makes me realize that in many ways (not all) that was a nearly perfect age and time, not exactly all downhill from there but, in so many ways it was a pinnacle of sorts. (Coincidentally {or is it ironically}the rec area where the town pool was located was known as "The Pinnacle" {on Lover's Lane no less}).
How does that quote go?-if only I knew then what I know now...no, even better the line from the Bob Dylan/Byrds song-My Back Pages--I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now.
Just looked up some of the #1 hits of 1977 and had a few laughs....some definite classics like Rod Stewart's "Tonight's the Night" (didn't know for the longest time what it was the night for...) and the Eagles' "Hotel California" but then there's Shaun Cassidy's "DaDooRonRon", David Soul's "Don't Give up on Us" and a couple of Andy Gibb's bubblegum classics. A crazy musical era that was punctuated by disco (ABBA and the Bee Gees), country rock (Eagles, Glen Campbell), funk (KC and the Sunshine Band and Rose Royce) Soul/R+B (Marvin Gaye and Stevie Wonder), crap (Mary McGregor and Debbi Boone) and utter crap (Barry Manilow, Cassidy and Gibb). Thankfully there were a few nuggets that still stand the test of time.
Here's the link for all the #1 hits of 1977 so you can look, laugh and reminisce for yourself...
Peace to the Planet....
Monday, May 30, 2011
Memorial Day Monday in May
Not just another three day weekend, the Memorial Day Holiday is a special one for all of us who love the U. S. of A. A day and time to remember those who gave their lives to keep our country strong and free. The ultimate sacrifice they call it, and it truly is, not just for those who died but also for their families left behind. For those who had the courage to fight, the willingness to give their all for the greater good of our country, we thank and remember you. For those who need the courage to continue on in the absence of a loved one who has given their life, know that they are appreciated and will never be forgotten, and we thank you too.
So let's not lose sight of this holiday, it is a celebration, but a somber celebration, a thanksgiving for all that we enjoy every day in this great country.
Freedom is not Free...
Peace to our great country and to the Planet ...
So let's not lose sight of this holiday, it is a celebration, but a somber celebration, a thanksgiving for all that we enjoy every day in this great country.
Arlington National Cemetery
Tomb of the Unknown Soldier
Korean War Memorial
Iwo Gima/Marine Corps Memorial
Vietnam Veteran's Memorial
World War II Memorial
Peace to our great country and to the Planet ...
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Happy Birthday Jay
He was almost thirteen when I was born, and nearly 31 when he died. We had eighteen years together, most of which were spent with me drooling etc. or, much later on, partying. In between my drooling and partying, my brother Jay managed to start his young adult life, fight off cancer, marry and settle down with his high school sweetheart, and together they were thrilled to have a baby son, considered miraculous after his chemo and radiation treatments. Between the bad timing of our respective lives we never had much time to just be together. I feel like I never really got to know him for myself, but mostly through stories and photos. Though, thankfully he made some serious efforts to be involved in the life of his little brother, creating memories that I carry to this day. Two in particular stand out, both occurring sometime between the ages of 9-11 for me. Jay took me to my first game at Fenway along with a friend of mine and a friend of his. I don't remember much in the way of specifics (a win against KC maybe?) but it's just cool that my first Sox game was with my big bro. The other was a hike we took on the Long Trail. Just the two of us on a two day, one overnight hike, the highlights, for me, at the time were a fellow hiker spearing a porcupine behind our shelter at night and missing church on Sunday (told you, I was ten...). But the point is, he took the time to do some special stuff with me, I appreciated it at the time, but I appreciate it even more now.
I hardly knew you, Jay. But I really miss you. Happy Birthday.
Love,
your little bro
Peace to the planet...
I hardly knew you, Jay. But I really miss you. Happy Birthday.
Love,
your little bro
Peace to the planet...
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Stars of Peace
Stars of peace, shine brightly
Dawn of love and hope, hearts rising
Sun of happiness, keep warming
Dusk of fulfillment, end of the day, of my soul
-TG
Peace, Love and Happiness to the Planet....
Dawn of love and hope, hearts rising
Sun of happiness, keep warming
Dusk of fulfillment, end of the day, of my soul
-TG
Peace, Love and Happiness to the Planet....
Friday, May 13, 2011
Random thoughts from the road
Some random thoughts as I've traveled three times in about six weeks-
"You're from Vermont? That's a state, right?" This from a 16-17year old seat mate on my way back from Key West-reminded me of another geographically challenged traveler I came across years ago who had a similar statement of "Vermont? what state's that in?" Yikes-reminds me of the folks Leno finds for his "Jaywalking" bit. I know Vermont is a small state. A minor state in the grand scheme. An unimportant state even. But really? You don't recognize one of the fifty states when you hear it?
Highway billboards with words that simply don't belong together-
GOURMET BUFFET - has anyone ever experienced gourmet food...at a buffet? Here is where I'd like to make a snarky remark about folks from Arkansas or some other backwater state and how maybe they would think gourmet food could be had in a buffet line-but being from Vermont...well...I'll just have to include us in the joke and say that many from Arkansas, Vermont and other places have surely found what they thought was gourmet food in a buffet line. And let's remember this is on a billboard sign on the highway!
Fine Mexican Cuisine - Ummmm.... I love Mexican food, I mean I really love Mexican food, almost all of it (frequently all at one sitting, with a few margaritas to wash it down) but even really good Mexican food cannot be called "Fine"- it's just not that kind of food, plain and simple. And "Cuisine"? well using a French word to describe Mexican food, just feels wrong. And, again, two words- billboard, highway. Nuff said.
Public bathroom notes:
-"Air Blades" spiffy and effective, motion activated hand dryers (from Dyson-the makers of overpriced ineffective vacuums). These things are fast and effective air dryers where you insert your hands down and between two turbo/jet powered streams of air (the air blades I guess)-no towels, no drip down your arm as you put your hands up and under, like most conventional air dryers, very effective as I mentioned, plus they're just cool...
-saw lots more hands free, motion activated everything in the public johns-toilets, urinals, faucets, soap dispensers, and hand dryers. Now the last thing they need to include is a motion activated door so the entire bathroom experience can be hands, mess, and germ free.
-used/saw the coolest urinal ever, yes, you read that correctly. This thing was almost like a work of art, sculptural even. A simple ovoid bowl, protruding at an angle from the wall. Not only was it hands free, it was water free-no plumbing fixture, no electronic eye even. Not sure exactly how that part works, being water free, but it worked.....no pee, no puddle, no smell.
-no, I'm not a bathroom freak, or a germophobe but you notice these things when you're on the road.
Another thing I noticed, mostly along the highways, was that there were lots of smelly very dirty bathrooms, and it struck me that once a public bathroom gets a bit funky, it tends to rapidly snowball, soon getting exponentially worse. I guess that it's because they are distant and we're anonymous so no one really cares. I think people figure, shit, it's already dirty so why bother trying to be neat or clean. And forget about cleaning up after yourself-most people are too scared of getting germy just from the cleanup!
On the highway I was struck by the consumerism in our country, literally getting slapped in the face again and again by strip malls and box store parks, giant shrines built so we can worship at the altar of the almighty dollar. Hardware, sporting goods, office supplies,cars, drugs, bed bath and waaay beyond-these massive stores on steroids, mile after mile after mile.
Another mile, another Home Depot.
Another mile, another Staples.
Another mile, another Bally total Fitness.
Another mile, another strip mall barfed up between exit ramps.
And then, there it was....breathe deep.....ahhhh smell that? That's New Jersey! Yes after traffic, grit, construction, depression, and the GW bridge there lies the swampland of New Jersey. Lovely Newark Airport, a farm of refinery tanks and billowing smokestacks and "Go! Central New Jersey" billboards and then the Thomas Edison service area on I-95! What would he think of all this? And would he have shared the light bulb with the world if he knew it would lead us here; concrete barrier walls fifteen feet tall, protecting the crap on one side from the crap on the other?
Perth Amboy dead ahead!
Peace to the Planet...
"You're from Vermont? That's a state, right?" This from a 16-17year old seat mate on my way back from Key West-reminded me of another geographically challenged traveler I came across years ago who had a similar statement of "Vermont? what state's that in?" Yikes-reminds me of the folks Leno finds for his "Jaywalking" bit. I know Vermont is a small state. A minor state in the grand scheme. An unimportant state even. But really? You don't recognize one of the fifty states when you hear it?
Highway billboards with words that simply don't belong together-
GOURMET BUFFET - has anyone ever experienced gourmet food...at a buffet? Here is where I'd like to make a snarky remark about folks from Arkansas or some other backwater state and how maybe they would think gourmet food could be had in a buffet line-but being from Vermont...well...I'll just have to include us in the joke and say that many from Arkansas, Vermont and other places have surely found what they thought was gourmet food in a buffet line. And let's remember this is on a billboard sign on the highway!
Fine Mexican Cuisine - Ummmm.... I love Mexican food, I mean I really love Mexican food, almost all of it (frequently all at one sitting, with a few margaritas to wash it down) but even really good Mexican food cannot be called "Fine"- it's just not that kind of food, plain and simple. And "Cuisine"? well using a French word to describe Mexican food, just feels wrong. And, again, two words- billboard, highway. Nuff said.
Public bathroom notes:
-"Air Blades" spiffy and effective, motion activated hand dryers (from Dyson-the makers of overpriced ineffective vacuums). These things are fast and effective air dryers where you insert your hands down and between two turbo/jet powered streams of air (the air blades I guess)-no towels, no drip down your arm as you put your hands up and under, like most conventional air dryers, very effective as I mentioned, plus they're just cool...
-saw lots more hands free, motion activated everything in the public johns-toilets, urinals, faucets, soap dispensers, and hand dryers. Now the last thing they need to include is a motion activated door so the entire bathroom experience can be hands, mess, and germ free.
-used/saw the coolest urinal ever, yes, you read that correctly. This thing was almost like a work of art, sculptural even. A simple ovoid bowl, protruding at an angle from the wall. Not only was it hands free, it was water free-no plumbing fixture, no electronic eye even. Not sure exactly how that part works, being water free, but it worked.....no pee, no puddle, no smell.
-no, I'm not a bathroom freak, or a germophobe but you notice these things when you're on the road.
Another thing I noticed, mostly along the highways, was that there were lots of smelly very dirty bathrooms, and it struck me that once a public bathroom gets a bit funky, it tends to rapidly snowball, soon getting exponentially worse. I guess that it's because they are distant and we're anonymous so no one really cares. I think people figure, shit, it's already dirty so why bother trying to be neat or clean. And forget about cleaning up after yourself-most people are too scared of getting germy just from the cleanup!
On the highway I was struck by the consumerism in our country, literally getting slapped in the face again and again by strip malls and box store parks, giant shrines built so we can worship at the altar of the almighty dollar. Hardware, sporting goods, office supplies,cars, drugs, bed bath and waaay beyond-these massive stores on steroids, mile after mile after mile.
Another mile, another Home Depot.
Another mile, another Staples.
Another mile, another Bally total Fitness.
Another mile, another strip mall barfed up between exit ramps.
And then, there it was....breathe deep.....ahhhh smell that? That's New Jersey! Yes after traffic, grit, construction, depression, and the GW bridge there lies the swampland of New Jersey. Lovely Newark Airport, a farm of refinery tanks and billowing smokestacks and "Go! Central New Jersey" billboards and then the Thomas Edison service area on I-95! What would he think of all this? And would he have shared the light bulb with the world if he knew it would lead us here; concrete barrier walls fifteen feet tall, protecting the crap on one side from the crap on the other?
Perth Amboy dead ahead!
Peace to the Planet...
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Sparky
The name fit him so well. Sparky. Few could ignite a room with their humor, wit, or simply their garrulous laugh the way Sparky could. As an in-law he became a part of our family well beyond in-law status. I don't really remember the first time I met him, but I remember that he treated me like a brother and an equal, even though I was quite a bit younger.
I have two brothers. One who passed away when I was 17, and because of a 13 year age difference, and my youthful selfishness, I never developed a relationship the way I now wish I had. My other brother, eleven years older than me, well...maybe it's a post for another time but I'll just say that we are very different and, sadly, we haven't overcome those differences to have much of a relationship at all. Particularly sad in fact, considering that (or maybe because) we share the loss of our brother.
Sparky was everything I could want in a brother. He was fun and funny. He was smart and could share and relate his knowledge in many ways. He was an extremely talented artist, whose imagination and work I admired. But what I loved about him most was that he simply accepted me as a brother, where others may have quite understandably seen a pesky little brother-in-law, getting in the way and tagging along.
Sadly, for them (and for me), things didn't last with my sister and Sparky, eventually ending in their divorce. At the time I was clueless about their divorce and coincidentally, was pretty self absorbed in my own budding romance. I don't recall if it was implicit or explicit, but in the painful aftermath of their divorce I knew that my relationship with him was pretty much over as well. I was living a few hours away and so we hadn't kept in close communication anyway. They moved on, and I moved on with my life, which got very busy very quickly. I got married, started a business and family with my wife and bought a house-all in about 18 months. I could hardly look forward, never mind looking back.
Now I wish I had looked back. More often. Sooner. Somehow, I find myself missing him, even though we haven't had any meaningful contact in many years. Like many things in life (and death) sometimes you don't miss them until it's too late and they're gone.
As I began, the name Sparky truly fit. Shining bright, but all too brief. Rest in Peace, Sparky.
Peace to the Planet, and to Sparky...
I have two brothers. One who passed away when I was 17, and because of a 13 year age difference, and my youthful selfishness, I never developed a relationship the way I now wish I had. My other brother, eleven years older than me, well...maybe it's a post for another time but I'll just say that we are very different and, sadly, we haven't overcome those differences to have much of a relationship at all. Particularly sad in fact, considering that (or maybe because) we share the loss of our brother.
Sparky was everything I could want in a brother. He was fun and funny. He was smart and could share and relate his knowledge in many ways. He was an extremely talented artist, whose imagination and work I admired. But what I loved about him most was that he simply accepted me as a brother, where others may have quite understandably seen a pesky little brother-in-law, getting in the way and tagging along.
Sadly, for them (and for me), things didn't last with my sister and Sparky, eventually ending in their divorce. At the time I was clueless about their divorce and coincidentally, was pretty self absorbed in my own budding romance. I don't recall if it was implicit or explicit, but in the painful aftermath of their divorce I knew that my relationship with him was pretty much over as well. I was living a few hours away and so we hadn't kept in close communication anyway. They moved on, and I moved on with my life, which got very busy very quickly. I got married, started a business and family with my wife and bought a house-all in about 18 months. I could hardly look forward, never mind looking back.
Now I wish I had looked back. More often. Sooner. Somehow, I find myself missing him, even though we haven't had any meaningful contact in many years. Like many things in life (and death) sometimes you don't miss them until it's too late and they're gone.
As I began, the name Sparky truly fit. Shining bright, but all too brief. Rest in Peace, Sparky.
Peace to the Planet, and to Sparky...
Saturday, April 16, 2011
I want (peace, happiness, and success) revenge
peace, happiness, and success
peace, happiness, and success
peace, happiness, and success
that is my mantra, my mantra for myself
my mantra for revenge
for a life well lived is the best revenge
so, fuck you bitch
peace, happiness, and success
the gra$$ i$n't alway$ greener
peace, happiness, and success...
peace, happiness, and success
peace, happiness, and success
that is my mantra, my mantra for myself
my mantra for revenge
for a life well lived is the best revenge
so, fuck you bitch
peace, happiness, and success
the gra$$ i$n't alway$ greener
peace, happiness, and success...
Friday, April 15, 2011
Rain
rain on the windshield
wipers, keep wiping, won't work
one of life's lessons
Sometimes it feels like the rain will never end you know? The sky is steel gray, the relentlessly pounding torrent seems to come in crashing waves. And when you're in it, when it's happening, it has that awful feeling that it will never end. You can tell yourself that it will end, you know that it will end, but it still feels like it will go on forever. When you're in it, it feels like it will go on forever. Because, even with the wipers on high, they can't keep up and you just can't see...
Peace to the Planet....
wipers, keep wiping, won't work
one of life's lessons
Sometimes it feels like the rain will never end you know? The sky is steel gray, the relentlessly pounding torrent seems to come in crashing waves. And when you're in it, when it's happening, it has that awful feeling that it will never end. You can tell yourself that it will end, you know that it will end, but it still feels like it will go on forever. When you're in it, it feels like it will go on forever. Because, even with the wipers on high, they can't keep up and you just can't see...
Peace to the Planet....
somebody's always worse off than you
I am having an extremely difficult time at the moment. But , not to take any pleasure or satisfaction in the misfortunes of others, at times like this I try to remember that somebody's always got it worse.For example-someone who's own plight makes you feel like a pussy for bitching, for crying, for feeling sorry for yourself. It's called putting it in perspective-that's what hearing from a friend who's had her cancerous bladder removed, can't bear children, divorced once, and witnessed her sibling die in an accident she was also injured in...when she was like ten years old. I don't necessarily feel better but I don't feel sorry for myself any more either.
Peace to the Planet...
Peace to the Planet...
Thursday, April 14, 2011
One of those days
Had one of those days as a parent that you simply try to get through. Survive. Hoping your sanity will be intact as well as all of your children's limbs. You want to scream, and often do. You want to do worse than scream and hopefully don't. If I had any hair left I'd pull it out. Grey? Coming on strong (the beard). Ozzy's "Crazy Train" playing in my head as I go off the rails toward a nervous breakdown.
At the end of the day-thankfully there was an end-I ask myself what happened, what was so bad, what could I have done better? Really it was just typical shit-teenage shit, sibling shit, communication shit, tired and cranky shit (me and them). Some days it simply wears me down, some days it gets to you a little (or a lot) more. And some days it's like they decide to gang up on me, all the shit at ONCE!-OK so here's the plan, I'll be hormonal and sulk all day, you contradict everything he says, and you...you, oh little one, do what you do best...Meltdown! Readyyyyy-Break!
Allright-so maybe that's a little dramatic-but maybe not. They're pretty smart and organized little shits, that really know how to execute a good plan.
No matter what; sanity-insanity, screaming-no screaming, limbs-no limbs, I love them and I am grateful for them. Even when they provide me with one of those days.
Peace to the Planet...
At the end of the day-thankfully there was an end-I ask myself what happened, what was so bad, what could I have done better? Really it was just typical shit-teenage shit, sibling shit, communication shit, tired and cranky shit (me and them). Some days it simply wears me down, some days it gets to you a little (or a lot) more. And some days it's like they decide to gang up on me, all the shit at ONCE!-OK so here's the plan, I'll be hormonal and sulk all day, you contradict everything he says, and you...you, oh little one, do what you do best...Meltdown! Readyyyyy-Break!
Allright-so maybe that's a little dramatic-but maybe not. They're pretty smart and organized little shits, that really know how to execute a good plan.
No matter what; sanity-insanity, screaming-no screaming, limbs-no limbs, I love them and I am grateful for them. Even when they provide me with one of those days.
Peace to the Planet...
Monday, April 11, 2011
Freedom
Doubt was nothing new to him, he had lived with it every day. Felt it from the inside, outside, every side. He felt it in every look, and in every word. It was like a constant, weighty companion, dragging him down like an anchor. To Truman, it often felt like it would cause him to drown and then one day, it did. The doubt became so powerful, so constant, so overwhelming he finally gave in to the weight, letting it pull him down, down, down. Down to the deliciously depressing depths he never knew existed. Deeper. Darker. And silent. That was what he noticed. The cool, calm silence, all alone there in the darkness. It had been a gradual thing but it dawned on Truman suddenly. The inky black silence. He drank it in, enjoying the calm, the peace, the utter lack of stimulus. It was liberating really. He had been fighting so long he hadn't realized how tired and weary he had grown. But this, this was freedom! Truman had not given in so much as he had come to a place of mere acceptance, and that in itself was the turning point. Letting himself soak in this void had allowed him to let go. He let go of his own doubt, he let go of his own fear, he let go of the bitter loathing that had taken over everything. The realization struck him as he noticed his own pulse pounding, feeling and hearing it course through every vein in his body. He was alive! And he liked it. The darkness and silence were still out there, but no longer a part of him. Truman felt light and music radiating from within, rippling outward through the depths, pulsing from his soul, and rippling through the emptiness and filling it with joy. Sensation now returning, he felt himself hurtling forward, outward, upward, elevated by the freedom he never knew he was missing. Up through the depths, breaking through the surface, Truman soared faster and higher out beyond the atmosphere, still fueled by the doubts of others, but now mixed with his inner freedom, his heart burst into a galaxy of stars. Stars in the darkness.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
If I had a band...
Being a lover of music as well as a failed musician, I've always been one of those people who had the desire but lacked the ability to be in a band. And like many others of the same ilk, I often think "Man, __________ would be a great name for my band....if I had one."
So...here goes
Popple Dungeon-My all time favorite-this name is from a back road/general area where I grew up in Chester, VT. I always it thought sounded cool, even as a kid. It would definitely have to be a heavy duty type of band-Zeppelin like.
Wild Tangents-inspired by my own rambling posts! could be a folk group, could be a spandex wearin', 80's type Hair band
Smokestack-for a reggae group or maybe metal (Smokestaq?)
Three Blind Mice-An acoustic duo (get it? duo is two and three is... never mind...)
Doctor Funkenstein and the Electric Hectic Mayhem-pretty self explanatory
Dark Hollow-an actual band from the late 80's Burlington, VT scene, doing (surprise!) Grateful Dead covers-still, I always loved the name (and the song). There is an endless supply of great names from the Dead's song titles and lyrics but I'll stop with just the one favorite.
Slippery-a Dave Matthews type jam band-maybe Slippery Slope
Brass Knuckles-a solo heavy metal artist backed by The Fuck You Orchestra-can you hear it? Knuckle-heads unite!
Ganglia-more metal
Pussyfoot-It sounded vaguely familiar so I checked it out-turns out it's already taken-Not sure what I had in mind but this was definitely not it-give a listen to the original Pussyfoot
Oh-na-na, Hi-ya, Oh-na-na, Hi-ya, Hi-ya! Pretty funny stuff! She's a 70's disco hottie that was a hit in Australia (no surprise considering Olivia Newton John, the Bee Gees and ABBA all being so popular there as well)
Feel free to submit your favorites
Peace to the Planet....
(hmmm... that could work as a name for a band too..)
So...here goes
Popple Dungeon-My all time favorite-this name is from a back road/general area where I grew up in Chester, VT. I always it thought sounded cool, even as a kid. It would definitely have to be a heavy duty type of band-Zeppelin like.
Wild Tangents-inspired by my own rambling posts! could be a folk group, could be a spandex wearin', 80's type Hair band
Smokestack-for a reggae group or maybe metal (Smokestaq?)
Three Blind Mice-An acoustic duo (get it? duo is two and three is... never mind...)
Doctor Funkenstein and the Electric Hectic Mayhem-pretty self explanatory
Dark Hollow-an actual band from the late 80's Burlington, VT scene, doing (surprise!) Grateful Dead covers-still, I always loved the name (and the song). There is an endless supply of great names from the Dead's song titles and lyrics but I'll stop with just the one favorite.
Slippery-a Dave Matthews type jam band-maybe Slippery Slope
Brass Knuckles-a solo heavy metal artist backed by The Fuck You Orchestra-can you hear it? Knuckle-heads unite!
Ganglia-more metal
Pussyfoot-It sounded vaguely familiar so I checked it out-turns out it's already taken-Not sure what I had in mind but this was definitely not it-give a listen to the original Pussyfoot
Oh-na-na, Hi-ya, Oh-na-na, Hi-ya, Hi-ya! Pretty funny stuff! She's a 70's disco hottie that was a hit in Australia (no surprise considering Olivia Newton John, the Bee Gees and ABBA all being so popular there as well)
Feel free to submit your favorites
Peace to the Planet....
(hmmm... that could work as a name for a band too..)
Monday, April 4, 2011
The ex's Hex from Texas
I've always been a sucker for good (or any) alliteration*, and this phrase kept coming to mind this weekend.
As previously noted, my ex is much further along in the process of moving forward than I am. As in- she had a boyfriend (the Hex from Texas-let's just call him Hex) before I had moved out of the house she and I shared. Painful. (By the way, it's true, everything IS bigger in Texas-even assholes as it turns out!) So in the meantime I've been dealing with the shock, jealousy and pain of this and the subsequent divorce. A year later now, I feel like I may be starting to get my feet under me, although a little wobbly still. In other words it doesn't take much to knock me down, emotionally speaking.
So why was this alliterative phrase coming to mind this weekend? Well, because Hex came for the weekend. The ex and Hex have been maintaining a long distance relationship for (at least) the past year. This must take a lot of work, I think to myself, if only she had worked this hard on our relationship! (Irony and alliteration in one post-stay tuned folks!) No, this is not the ex's and the Hex's first visit-she's been to Texas several times and he's been here several times as well-including enjoying Thanksgiving dinner here, in my old home, with my old wife, AND with MY KIDS! More pain!. (I have much to be thankful for but this was a particularly trying Thanksgiving for me.) Like salt in the wound, you know? (Oooh-now we've got a simile and a cliche in one sentence!) But it is always worse when he visits here-it's in my face, on my turf (this is the town I grew up in), in my old home, in my old bed etc. The last time Hex showed up, the ex actually asked if she could take the kids (during my time with them) so that they could have some (bonding!) time with Hex. (Yup-she's got a pair-eh?)
I'll give the ex credit- at least she let me know Hex was going to be around, showing me much appreciated consideration (sarcasm? check!). Seriously, at least I was prepared (by that I mean obsessively overwrought with anguish) so that when I went to pick up the kids for the weekend I wouldn't be caught off guard by my first face to face with Hex.
What I wasn't prepared for was more salt in the wound coming from my six year old son (unintentional, of course-he's blissfully self centered [age appropriate-I like to think] and unaware of much about the divorce other than Mom and Dad now live apart.) I'm pretty sure my son loves me (insecure sarcasm? check!) but he is definitely a Mama's boy, always was. So naturally, when leaving for his time with me, this makes saying goodbye to Mom hard (on all three of us). He's fine when the transition is a pick up at school. He loves his time with me and certainly doesn't spend it pining for Mom or even asking to call etc. But it's definitely, and infinitely more difficult when I have to take him from her, and even worse still when this happens at her place (the only home he's ever known until I got my apartment). So I was prepared for some of the usual difficulties when this situation arose this weekend. And I was prepared for the uncomfortable nature of the Hex's mere presence. But, what I was not prepared for was my son begging to stay with Mom so he could be with Hex! OUCH! This was a different kind of pain, a different kind of jealousy. Damn, the ego does take a beating....
Luckily I had a secret weapon-Dunkin' Donuts! (as I said, I was prepared for the usual stuff-thankfully it worked for the unexpected stuff also) Yes, the lure of Dunkin' Donuts (America runs on Dunkin'....it's true!) did the trick, we left without tears from him and without further embarrassment and ego bruising for me. Not only did the donuts smooth the transition for my son, but they had the unexpected and pleasant benefit of being a bit of salve to my own, lightly salted, wounds. (Pun? not exactly, but I tried...a play between two cliches maybe?)
As the great philosopher, Homer, once said "Mmmmmm, donuts!"
(There we go! Pun? Check!)
So while not quite having it all, this post did have a heaping helping, including; alliteration, irony, simile (no metaphor-dang it!) cliche, sarcasm, puns and even a moral (be prepared!) Now if I could only figure out how to get the e in cliche to have the proper accent (acute, not grave, I believe, although I always thought my French teacher Mme. Marquis was said it with a "G" like accent a-goo. Now thinking I should change the name of the blog to "Wild Tangents"-just a thought....(would also make a great name for a band!)
Peace to the Planet....
*I'm going with this definition of alliteration-thank you dictionary.com
the commencement of two or more stressed syllables of a word group either with the same consonant sound or soundgroup (consonantal alliteration)
As previously noted, my ex is much further along in the process of moving forward than I am. As in- she had a boyfriend (the Hex from Texas-let's just call him Hex) before I had moved out of the house she and I shared. Painful. (By the way, it's true, everything IS bigger in Texas-even assholes as it turns out!) So in the meantime I've been dealing with the shock, jealousy and pain of this and the subsequent divorce. A year later now, I feel like I may be starting to get my feet under me, although a little wobbly still. In other words it doesn't take much to knock me down, emotionally speaking.
So why was this alliterative phrase coming to mind this weekend? Well, because Hex came for the weekend. The ex and Hex have been maintaining a long distance relationship for (at least) the past year. This must take a lot of work, I think to myself, if only she had worked this hard on our relationship! (Irony and alliteration in one post-stay tuned folks!) No, this is not the ex's and the Hex's first visit-she's been to Texas several times and he's been here several times as well-including enjoying Thanksgiving dinner here, in my old home, with my old wife, AND with MY KIDS! More pain!. (I have much to be thankful for but this was a particularly trying Thanksgiving for me.) Like salt in the wound, you know? (Oooh-now we've got a simile and a cliche in one sentence!) But it is always worse when he visits here-it's in my face, on my turf (this is the town I grew up in), in my old home, in my old bed etc. The last time Hex showed up, the ex actually asked if she could take the kids (during my time with them) so that they could have some (bonding!) time with Hex. (Yup-she's got a pair-eh?)
I'll give the ex credit- at least she let me know Hex was going to be around, showing me much appreciated consideration (sarcasm? check!). Seriously, at least I was prepared (by that I mean obsessively overwrought with anguish) so that when I went to pick up the kids for the weekend I wouldn't be caught off guard by my first face to face with Hex.
What I wasn't prepared for was more salt in the wound coming from my six year old son (unintentional, of course-he's blissfully self centered [age appropriate-I like to think] and unaware of much about the divorce other than Mom and Dad now live apart.) I'm pretty sure my son loves me (insecure sarcasm? check!) but he is definitely a Mama's boy, always was. So naturally, when leaving for his time with me, this makes saying goodbye to Mom hard (on all three of us). He's fine when the transition is a pick up at school. He loves his time with me and certainly doesn't spend it pining for Mom or even asking to call etc. But it's definitely, and infinitely more difficult when I have to take him from her, and even worse still when this happens at her place (the only home he's ever known until I got my apartment). So I was prepared for some of the usual difficulties when this situation arose this weekend. And I was prepared for the uncomfortable nature of the Hex's mere presence. But, what I was not prepared for was my son begging to stay with Mom so he could be with Hex! OUCH! This was a different kind of pain, a different kind of jealousy. Damn, the ego does take a beating....
Luckily I had a secret weapon-Dunkin' Donuts! (as I said, I was prepared for the usual stuff-thankfully it worked for the unexpected stuff also) Yes, the lure of Dunkin' Donuts (America runs on Dunkin'....it's true!) did the trick, we left without tears from him and without further embarrassment and ego bruising for me. Not only did the donuts smooth the transition for my son, but they had the unexpected and pleasant benefit of being a bit of salve to my own, lightly salted, wounds. (Pun? not exactly, but I tried...a play between two cliches maybe?)
As the great philosopher, Homer, once said "Mmmmmm, donuts!"
(There we go! Pun? Check!)
So while not quite having it all, this post did have a heaping helping, including; alliteration, irony, simile (no metaphor-dang it!) cliche, sarcasm, puns and even a moral (be prepared!) Now if I could only figure out how to get the e in cliche to have the proper accent (acute, not grave, I believe, although I always thought my French teacher Mme. Marquis was said it with a "G" like accent a-goo. Now thinking I should change the name of the blog to "Wild Tangents"-just a thought....(would also make a great name for a band!)
Peace to the Planet....
*I'm going with this definition of alliteration-thank you dictionary.com
the commencement of two or more stressed syllables of a word group either with the same consonant sound or soundgroup (consonantal alliteration)
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Beautiful Boy- a (very) short story
She stood in line at the grocery store, mesmerized by the boy in front of her. He was about nine or ten, with dark, short cropped hair complemented by eyes of the deepest blue and perfect smooth skin somewhere between mocha and olive. Too young to be called handsome, she settled on beautiful; a beautiful boy...
Captivated, she couldn't help but stare. She watched him contemplate and agonize over his choice of candy bar and, after deciding at last (a Snickers), she chuckled to herself as he sneaked it onto the conveyor with his mother's groceries. Upon noticing the candy bar, his very ordinary looking mother sighed, remembering the bribe she had offered in the car before entering the store. Even still, she groused loudly to the boy and cashier "$1.29 for a CANDY BAR?!" only half teasing.
The boy snagged the candy bar before the bagger could get his hands on it. As his mother paid, he tore the wrapper off and ate hungrily, but slowly, savoring the treat.
His ordinary mother grabbed the beautiful boy's hand and headed for the door. He looked back at the woman with a chocolaty smile, turned again, and left.
No longer transfixed, the woman started emptying the contents of her cart on to the conveyor, thinking sadly of her own son, missed and loved dearly. This ordinary woman's own beautiful boy.
Captivated, she couldn't help but stare. She watched him contemplate and agonize over his choice of candy bar and, after deciding at last (a Snickers), she chuckled to herself as he sneaked it onto the conveyor with his mother's groceries. Upon noticing the candy bar, his very ordinary looking mother sighed, remembering the bribe she had offered in the car before entering the store. Even still, she groused loudly to the boy and cashier "$1.29 for a CANDY BAR?!" only half teasing.
The boy snagged the candy bar before the bagger could get his hands on it. As his mother paid, he tore the wrapper off and ate hungrily, but slowly, savoring the treat.
His ordinary mother grabbed the beautiful boy's hand and headed for the door. He looked back at the woman with a chocolaty smile, turned again, and left.
No longer transfixed, the woman started emptying the contents of her cart on to the conveyor, thinking sadly of her own son, missed and loved dearly. This ordinary woman's own beautiful boy.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Good Therapy
Had a good session with Maddie, my therapist, this morning. Although it didn't get off to a good start-the roads were a little slick, so she was late, (first appointment of the day), and I was jacked on caffeine, raring to go. So for the first fifteen minutes I was basically doing a speedy monolog, filling her in on the ups and downs since our last session. This included numerous reflections that I have had and shared here on the blog. By the time I came up for air I had had a new revelation. I like my visits with Maddie, but today I mostly kept recanting snippets and thoughts of my posts. Telling her about "my new blog" (first and only blog) and how it was helping. Blogging allows me the time to reflect, to feel, to share , and to let go. It's been really good for me and helpful in the process of moving forward. Plus I admitted to her and (myself) that although I started writing simply for myself, I now enjoy the feedback and interplay-I like having an audience, I like writing, and I like the minor attention it has garnered. It feels good to have someone reading what I write. Maybe even appreciate what I write or how I write.
Now, I have a few good friends and a supportive family-all willing to listen, and they have. But there is something different about the process of writing, editing, rewriting etc. that allows me to dig deeper within myself, giving me a better perpective on things. There is also something different about putting it out there for anyone to read
So now I'm thinking of continuing the sessions with Maddie, but a little less frequently. She is a family/marriage therapist and she was seeing my ex and I as a couple, when we were at the end-stage (though the ex was there to "explore her feelings" {or lack thereof} and I was there to try and do something anything, to save our marriage). Now I see Maddie solo. Sometimes this is good-since she knows the ex and what she was thinking feeling at the end of our marriage. Sometimes not so good- as I'm trying to move forward and figure out how to live my life, Maddie often steers the conversation back to the ex. I guess it cuts both ways-working for me and against me.
In the mean time, I'll keep blogging, steering the dialogue where I want it to go.
Peace to the planet...
Now, I have a few good friends and a supportive family-all willing to listen, and they have. But there is something different about the process of writing, editing, rewriting etc. that allows me to dig deeper within myself, giving me a better perpective on things. There is also something different about putting it out there for anyone to read
So now I'm thinking of continuing the sessions with Maddie, but a little less frequently. She is a family/marriage therapist and she was seeing my ex and I as a couple, when we were at the end-stage (though the ex was there to "explore her feelings" {or lack thereof} and I was there to try and do something anything, to save our marriage). Now I see Maddie solo. Sometimes this is good-since she knows the ex and what she was thinking feeling at the end of our marriage. Sometimes not so good- as I'm trying to move forward and figure out how to live my life, Maddie often steers the conversation back to the ex. I guess it cuts both ways-working for me and against me.
In the mean time, I'll keep blogging, steering the dialogue where I want it to go.
Peace to the planet...
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
New house mate
Had a new housemate move in a while back. Sleeps all day, nocturnal but quiet at night. No problem til early this morning-woke at 4am to the stinking result of a feud with another of his friends. Fucking skunks...Yes, my new house mate is an uninvited one, a black and white one, a stinky one. It apparently has taken up residence in the crawlspace below my kitchen; when it sprayed you couldn't even smell it outside on the porch (underneath which is its main access) but you could smell it through all three floors of my apartment! So I did my best to mitigate the olfactory stank; opened doors and windows for about an hour (until it got down to 45 degrees or so, too bad it didn't happen last week when it was 50-60!), lit candles and incense, hit the carpet with odor powder stuff and vacuumed, mopped the hard floors with heavy dose of Lysol, and sprayed everything including the kids with Febreeze.
All of which helped...to create a mix of very pleasant, if slightly chemical, scents...and skunk
All of which helped...to create a mix of very pleasant, if slightly chemical, scents...and skunk
Monday, March 21, 2011
seasons in haiku-in honor of the first day of Spring
past the fallen tree
dancing waters also sing
songs we alone hear
buzzing green alive
silent clouds are witnesses
sunrise on the hill
hear and feel and smell
windsong caressing your nose
flames fall to embers
perfect crystals shine
though fallen from dark grey skies
the earth laughs; transformed
dancing waters also sing
songs we alone hear
buzzing green alive
silent clouds are witnesses
sunrise on the hill
hear and feel and smell
windsong caressing your nose
flames fall to embers
perfect crystals shine
though fallen from dark grey skies
the earth laughs; transformed
Friday, March 18, 2011
lovin' haiku
Posted an impromptu haiku the other day and was thinking...I love everything about them. They are concise, and have a simple, clean beauty to them (not mine necessarily-I ended up reading some before and a bunch after the post). I also researched their form, history and components and found out that I unintentionally included a common element (nature/season) into my own, kinda neat. I wish I could read/speak Japanese because it sounds like there are definite differences between the two languages-plus, they even look cool in Japanese-especially with the characters written vertically. Check some out for yourselves-a nice one posted in the comments to that post by Marina and also here http://www.haikupoetshut.com/
ripples in water
tsunami devestation
small rings get bigger
Peace to the Planet...
ripples in water
tsunami devestation
small rings get bigger
Peace to the Planet...
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Haiku for today
sloshing and sliding
sun on the melting sidewalk
snow on a Spring day
-TG
Peace to the planet...
sun on the melting sidewalk
snow on a Spring day
-TG
Peace to the planet...
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Someone Like You
Tried listening to Adele's "Someone Like You" again last night-didn't tear up but couldn't listen to the whole thing either. What amazes me is for someone to have that kind of perspective while still experiencing the pain, and feeling "miserable and lonely" as she was.
It just dawned on me that what may help give Adele that perspective is her youth. I am often guilty of feeling sorry for myself but I think most would agree that it is probably easier to be able to look forward to starting over in your twenties than in your forties (suddenly I'm one of those people with "baggage"). But maybe not. It would also seem easier (not easy) to move on after a relationship of five or ten years than one of twenty or thirty years. Again, maybe not, maybe it's just me. I truly wish I could be one of those people who wants "nothing but the best for you" as Adele sings, for their ex, but I'm just not there. Not yet anyway. Not that I want bad things for the ex (though, admittedly there have been "fantasies" but that's all they are, fantasies). What I am is one of those people who simply wish that she felt the depth of pain and misery that I do (Adele's line-"I had hoped you'd see my face and be reminded that for me it isn't over"). I know it hasn't been easy for her either and she has had her share of pain, but the ex appears to have had a much easier time moving on. Makes me wonder. Not too great for the ol' ego when you're that easy to get over.
But here's the thing, and it's what I really connect with in "Someone Like You", the ex has already settled into a very serious relationship and I am still alone (not that I want a relationship {yet} for myself, definitely not there yet either). How can I feel happy about that? "Guess she gives you things I didn't give to you" Adele sings, leaving me to think that I could have and should have done more in my marriage. But it also makes me think- how was I suppose to fulfill needs the ex not only didn't communicate to me but didn't even realize (she now admits) that she had?
"Never mind, I'll find someone like you"-that's right Adele, and if I'm lucky I'll find someone even better, or better for me anyway. Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste...had enough of the bitter, getting closer to the sweet.
It just dawned on me that what may help give Adele that perspective is her youth. I am often guilty of feeling sorry for myself but I think most would agree that it is probably easier to be able to look forward to starting over in your twenties than in your forties (suddenly I'm one of those people with "baggage"). But maybe not. It would also seem easier (not easy) to move on after a relationship of five or ten years than one of twenty or thirty years. Again, maybe not, maybe it's just me. I truly wish I could be one of those people who wants "nothing but the best for you" as Adele sings, for their ex, but I'm just not there. Not yet anyway. Not that I want bad things for the ex (though, admittedly there have been "fantasies" but that's all they are, fantasies). What I am is one of those people who simply wish that she felt the depth of pain and misery that I do (Adele's line-"I had hoped you'd see my face and be reminded that for me it isn't over"). I know it hasn't been easy for her either and she has had her share of pain, but the ex appears to have had a much easier time moving on. Makes me wonder. Not too great for the ol' ego when you're that easy to get over.
But here's the thing, and it's what I really connect with in "Someone Like You", the ex has already settled into a very serious relationship and I am still alone (not that I want a relationship {yet} for myself, definitely not there yet either). How can I feel happy about that? "Guess she gives you things I didn't give to you" Adele sings, leaving me to think that I could have and should have done more in my marriage. But it also makes me think- how was I suppose to fulfill needs the ex not only didn't communicate to me but didn't even realize (she now admits) that she had?
"Never mind, I'll find someone like you"-that's right Adele, and if I'm lucky I'll find someone even better, or better for me anyway. Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste...had enough of the bitter, getting closer to the sweet.
Damn. Made it all the way through (sniff, sniff). But with her pipes and singing with such emotion, who doesn't feel the heartbreak? I used to be big on avoidance, emotions or otherwise, but I've realized that it's sometimes OK, and often beneficial to let myself really feel the pain, letting it wash over me. It's better (and easier) than holding it in or holding on to it indefinitely.
Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead.... indeed....
Peace to the Planet....
Sunday, March 13, 2011
I am not holier (or smarter) than thou, I am just as stupid....in different ways
I am a stead fast believer in honesty, integrity and even good manners. I have moral standards for myself and for those I surround myself with. Does this mean I am perfect, never lie, and always do the right thing? Of course not. It just means that's the expectation I have for myself. Does that mean I think I am better than you if you don't do the same? Absolutely not. We all have our own conscience and morals, little angels and devils on our shoulders telling us good from bad, but problems do arise when our angels and devils are telling us different things.
I have been accused several times by my ex of being holier than thou-"You think you're better than me" etc. I understand why she felt this way because I can give off a sanctimonious air-especially when I had been hurt so badly by some of the things she did to me. Things, I made clear to her, that I would or could never have done to her. So I can see where she would think that I was getting all high and mighty. While I may have intended her pain with my words, wanting her to perhaps feel some of my pain, making my point wasn't done to put myself up on a high horse (too easy too fall off). It was simply a difference in our little angels and devils. Different-not better or worse...
You see there are also choices and decisions I have made that she probably wouldn't have. I have done my share of regretful things, stupid things. So while I may occasionally point out the faults of others it's not without fault of my own.
For example-I had enjoyed marijuana for many years on a regular basis (see...not so holy after all... unless you're a Rasta). For reasons that I understand, but still don't agree with, many people feel the way about my use of pot the way I feel about honesty and integrity. More accurately the inverse is true-some people are fine with telling a lie or working the system a bit in their favor-me, not so much. While others, like me, feel that it's OK to partake in a bit of reefer even though it's against the law, others, not so much. So there is just a difference in our tolerance for certain behaviors. I found smoking pot relaxing, pleasurable and enjoyed it responsibly the way many enjoy a drink or two. But it is also a health risk and happens to be illegal (for now...but that's a blog for another day!) I had my justifications and rationalizations for smoking and they worked for me for a very long time.
That was the poor decision part-here comes the "me stupid" part. Being a bit of a stoner you occasionally do or say stupid stuff, I mean your stoned right? Well one night I went to bed stoned and left my pipe out in plain sight. I had done this on occasion before but what made me feel really stupid about it this time was that my eleven year old son found it the next morning. "What's this Dad?".......shit! Somewhere inside I had known this might happen but had never been able to (or wanted to?) come up with a good story-I got all George Washington, stayed true to myself, and thought "I cannot tell a lie". Ironically I believe George was confessing to his father while I was confessing to my son.
Also ironic is how my morals, in juxtaposition, collided. I could break the law but couldn't lie about it. After telling my son and daughter about my usage, answering their questions as honestly as possible, and then hearing my own flimsy justifications (they had sounded so good to me for all those years...) I did the only thing left to do and that was to stop smoking pot.
They knew I was no angel before this (yet another irony; at dinner the night I had left the pipe out I had shared a story about getting kicked off the soccer team my senior year in high school because I got caught smoking cigarettes) but clearly this took me down a notch in the eyes of my children, I felt bad for myself and even worse for them. But how can I ask them to be honest and to do the right thing, even when it's the hard thing, if I'm not willing to do it myself? So I like to think of this as one of those teaching moments (one I hope never to have to repeat). I also hope that someday they will appreciate that their old man was straight with them even after doing stupid stuff.
Peace to the Planet...
I have been accused several times by my ex of being holier than thou-"You think you're better than me" etc. I understand why she felt this way because I can give off a sanctimonious air-especially when I had been hurt so badly by some of the things she did to me. Things, I made clear to her, that I would or could never have done to her. So I can see where she would think that I was getting all high and mighty. While I may have intended her pain with my words, wanting her to perhaps feel some of my pain, making my point wasn't done to put myself up on a high horse (too easy too fall off). It was simply a difference in our little angels and devils. Different-not better or worse...
You see there are also choices and decisions I have made that she probably wouldn't have. I have done my share of regretful things, stupid things. So while I may occasionally point out the faults of others it's not without fault of my own.
For example-I had enjoyed marijuana for many years on a regular basis (see...not so holy after all... unless you're a Rasta). For reasons that I understand, but still don't agree with, many people feel the way about my use of pot the way I feel about honesty and integrity. More accurately the inverse is true-some people are fine with telling a lie or working the system a bit in their favor-me, not so much. While others, like me, feel that it's OK to partake in a bit of reefer even though it's against the law, others, not so much. So there is just a difference in our tolerance for certain behaviors. I found smoking pot relaxing, pleasurable and enjoyed it responsibly the way many enjoy a drink or two. But it is also a health risk and happens to be illegal (for now...but that's a blog for another day!) I had my justifications and rationalizations for smoking and they worked for me for a very long time.
That was the poor decision part-here comes the "me stupid" part. Being a bit of a stoner you occasionally do or say stupid stuff, I mean your stoned right? Well one night I went to bed stoned and left my pipe out in plain sight. I had done this on occasion before but what made me feel really stupid about it this time was that my eleven year old son found it the next morning. "What's this Dad?".......shit! Somewhere inside I had known this might happen but had never been able to (or wanted to?) come up with a good story-I got all George Washington, stayed true to myself, and thought "I cannot tell a lie". Ironically I believe George was confessing to his father while I was confessing to my son.
Also ironic is how my morals, in juxtaposition, collided. I could break the law but couldn't lie about it. After telling my son and daughter about my usage, answering their questions as honestly as possible, and then hearing my own flimsy justifications (they had sounded so good to me for all those years...) I did the only thing left to do and that was to stop smoking pot.
They knew I was no angel before this (yet another irony; at dinner the night I had left the pipe out I had shared a story about getting kicked off the soccer team my senior year in high school because I got caught smoking cigarettes) but clearly this took me down a notch in the eyes of my children, I felt bad for myself and even worse for them. But how can I ask them to be honest and to do the right thing, even when it's the hard thing, if I'm not willing to do it myself? So I like to think of this as one of those teaching moments (one I hope never to have to repeat). I also hope that someday they will appreciate that their old man was straight with them even after doing stupid stuff.
Peace to the Planet...
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