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...

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...

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....

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.

Arlington National Cemetery

Tomb of the Unknown Soldier

Korean War Memorial

Iwo Gima/Marine Corps Memorial

Vietnam Veteran's Memorial

World War II Memorial

  Freedom is not Free...


Peace to our great country and to the Planet ...

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...

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....

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...

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 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...

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....

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...

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...

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.

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..)

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)