I'm reading some of the blogging girls talking bout 'checking out other girls', and I'm reading blogging girls talking bout how clothes and lingerie make them feel special and sexy....and I know the guys reading here have not a thing against pretty girls in pretty things...so today I am sharing a link for you all....it's here. Turn on your sound. Enjoy.
And oh yeah, the second music selection in the show is fun, I'm pretty sure it's the original Janis Joplin version of Summertime!
Sunday, April 23, 2006
Thursday, April 20, 2006
Well, Good Morning Rick!
The Texas night on Wednesday was filled with driving rain, high winds, and a power outage that left the devices in my house beeping and blinking at 2:12 am. I got up and tried to do something impossible. I actually tried to turn on a light even though it was completely evident there was no power. Why do we do that? Well, maybe YOU don't. But I did.
No lights. No air conditioning. No nothing.
I decided 'screw it' and just went back to sleep. Sometime around 5:30 am the power came back on and the normal world inside my house was revived. Cave man status had been dismissed once again by Texas Utilities.
About an hour later I got up and wandered through the house, went into the kitchen and started coffee. I looked out the front windows at the mess made by the storm. Small branches and dismembered tree bits littered the front yard.
Yet the birds were singing and the air was clean as it filtered through the windows. It felt like a peaceful fresh happy morning to me all things considered.
I got some coffee, sipped it slowly and rubbed my eyes. I decided to visit the backyard to assess if the morning was as beautiful in the back as it appeared in the front.
Understand I don't sleep in pajamas or clothes of any type. Sometimes I go without clothes in the house for a percentage of the time in the mornings. (I run my business from my home)
It's not unusual for me to go into my backyard or into the swimming pool sans clothing. Or as my London blog friend Colin might say, 'starkers'. I have an 8' privacy fence shielding me from the neighbors.
So driven by my routine and without a care in the world, my coffee and my fully exposed epidermus opened the back door and wandered out onto the back terrace.
I was greeted by our behind the fence neighbor Tina with a surprised "Well, Good Morning Rick!"
The reason I was in view of said neighbor is that half of my 8' privacy fence was lying on the ground. Tina was assessing the damage. Her husband Roy wasn't out there; and somehow I was glad for that. I excused myself with an em-bare-assed grin and went back inside.
Once inside I looked out the blinds of the Breakfast room window.
Then I hopped up and down like Yosemite Sam cursing a mean blue streak of inventive and creative expletives.
Calmed down, I went outside (dressed) and looked at the damage. Tina had split, likely in gales of internal laughter. I figured the damage would be just short of my insurance deductible. Typical.
Here is a picture.
Then I rationalized how lucky I really am; as we all do when disaster strikes. You know the gap-toothed sweating idjits they always find after a tornado. The ones with the gimmme-caps and torn t-shirts? The ones that say, "I'm just lucky to be alive 'cuz' it 'shore' was a big ol bad storm." Now I know where they find those people.
And, yes the little pool angel you see in the bottom right corner is sitting on my pool. Thanks a hell of a lot, stupid angel! Good job.
Later. Have a great weekend. I'm gone to Houston today.
No lights. No air conditioning. No nothing.
I decided 'screw it' and just went back to sleep. Sometime around 5:30 am the power came back on and the normal world inside my house was revived. Cave man status had been dismissed once again by Texas Utilities.
About an hour later I got up and wandered through the house, went into the kitchen and started coffee. I looked out the front windows at the mess made by the storm. Small branches and dismembered tree bits littered the front yard.
Yet the birds were singing and the air was clean as it filtered through the windows. It felt like a peaceful fresh happy morning to me all things considered.
I got some coffee, sipped it slowly and rubbed my eyes. I decided to visit the backyard to assess if the morning was as beautiful in the back as it appeared in the front.
Understand I don't sleep in pajamas or clothes of any type. Sometimes I go without clothes in the house for a percentage of the time in the mornings. (I run my business from my home)
It's not unusual for me to go into my backyard or into the swimming pool sans clothing. Or as my London blog friend Colin might say, 'starkers'. I have an 8' privacy fence shielding me from the neighbors.
So driven by my routine and without a care in the world, my coffee and my fully exposed epidermus opened the back door and wandered out onto the back terrace.
I was greeted by our behind the fence neighbor Tina with a surprised "Well, Good Morning Rick!"
The reason I was in view of said neighbor is that half of my 8' privacy fence was lying on the ground. Tina was assessing the damage. Her husband Roy wasn't out there; and somehow I was glad for that. I excused myself with an em-bare-assed grin and went back inside.
Once inside I looked out the blinds of the Breakfast room window.
Then I hopped up and down like Yosemite Sam cursing a mean blue streak of inventive and creative expletives.
Calmed down, I went outside (dressed) and looked at the damage. Tina had split, likely in gales of internal laughter. I figured the damage would be just short of my insurance deductible. Typical.
Here is a picture.
Then I rationalized how lucky I really am; as we all do when disaster strikes. You know the gap-toothed sweating idjits they always find after a tornado. The ones with the gimmme-caps and torn t-shirts? The ones that say, "I'm just lucky to be alive 'cuz' it 'shore' was a big ol bad storm." Now I know where they find those people.
And, yes the little pool angel you see in the bottom right corner is sitting on my pool. Thanks a hell of a lot, stupid angel! Good job.
Later. Have a great weekend. I'm gone to Houston today.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Here's Your Mail Back
I don't watch 60 Minutes, at least I haven't done so in a very long time. I guess it's a protest on my part from watching 80 year old men manipulate various subjects and interviews until the subject is portrayed as CBS wants the reality to actually become. Manipulators of the worst sort in my opinion, but it's not really the subject of this post anyway.An idea from Andy Rooney is the subject. It's an idea I was told about by my wife; remember I don't watch.
Apparently Mr. Rooney was discussing a tactic for dealing with the avalanche of marketing created by companies that issue credit cards. Maybe you have heard his idea?
I receive on the average about 12 such solicitations each week along with the other miscellaneous trifles and worthless things that clog everybody's snail mail box.
Most soliciations come with a postage paid envelope to tell the company YES, I would definitely like to be in debt to you and 20 other companies. Mr. Rooney suggests we write a short note that sez 'No Thanks', stick it in the envelope and return it at the solicitor's snail mail expense.
I sent 14 this week; with a note of course.
Monday, April 17, 2006
Am I Handsome......Or What?
I had a handsome day yesterday.
You know, those days when the opposite sex is paying much more attention than usual?
You’ve had those days too. I bet you’re never really sure why though.
You get those extra long looks and smiles, the sort of thing that makes you feel like ‘really cool’ they do still notice me a little.
Then of course you start wondering; what is the deal with this particular day?
Is it these clothes? Or, maybe I got more rest last night and I’m looking a little better than my usual.
This has happened to you. Deny all you want, I know it has.
So my day was going quite well. I talked quite a while with the teller at the bank. Her long gazes and wide smiling made me feel that special confidence.
I took that confidence with me and went strutting about the grocery store. Same thing was going down on the grocery aisles. Women making face to face contact, checking me out, and smiling to top it off!
I flirted at a level worthy of embarrassment with the grocery checker. Same thing. Lots of long looks and smiling. She was almost tittery. I don’t know if that is a word. In my mind it means a little giggly.
My, my, what’s up with me today? Am I handsome…or what?
When I got back home, I decided it would be a good idea to check myself out in the mirror. I thought it wise to try and isolate whatever special quality was raising my stock today.
The man in the mirror staring back at me had one of those toilet paper blots that men use to stop a bleeding spot after they shave. You’ve seen those, right? It usually has a small blood spot at the center.
Well, yes indeed, I had one of those little thangs stuck tight to my chin.
Crap.
On second thought, maybe I’ll go with it again tomorrow, the attention is nice.
Now I Get It…….maybe
Sunday, April 16, 2006
Elvis Impersonator Confesses to Burnout
Rick Satire Report NewsLas Vegas, Nevada
Elvis impersonator Johnny Hey-man sat with his head down. Patrons in the local diner took notice of his elaborate Elvis costume, but elected to steer clear of his table.
In the past two weeks Mr. Hey-man had been in a depression and had confessed to me over the phone that he was just plain ‘burned out’ with the whole Elvis thing.
I agreed to meet Johnny at the Dennys on Tropicana Trail in Las Vegas to hear his story.
“Man, it seems like yesterday that it was all so fresh. All I ever wanted to be was the best Elvis impersonator ever. All my life that’s all I ever really wanted. When I was on stage I was Elvis and the crowd knew it” said Hey-man. “Now look around you and you see dammed Elvis impersonators everywhere. I’ve even seen some chicks trying to do Elvis. For God’s sake man, one of them was wearing red fingernail polish and doing the Man!”
I looked around the Denny’s and just like Johnny was telling it, there were two other Elvises at the back of the dining room. They looked happy though, and Johnny was clearly a man in a free fall.
Johnny went on with his story, “I mean I know all the lyrics to every song and I used to practice all day on Saturdays in my garage when I was young, nowadays these kids don’t even really know the songs. You know for sure things have hit the shit fan when you see some fat Japanese dude singing Blue Suede Shoes, except the dumbass is singing Brue Suede Shoes. I can guarndamntee you that the Man never said Brue Suede Shoes!”
“I’m tired now, too many high school gyms playing to kids that never saw Elvis. I even took a birthday party not long ago and one of the kids asked me if I was Paulie from the Sopranos. It wears on you man, you know? I mean like I’m just burned out with the whole Elvis thing, and I never thought that would happen.”
The waitress came over and and with a big Nebraska corn fed grin asked Johnny, “Say there Mister Elvis Presley, would you like some more coffee?”
Johnny raised his head slightly and mumbled “Thank you, thank you very much.” But from this reporters perspective it was clear that his heart just wasn’t in it.
“Now I know why the Man did all those drugs” said Johnny, “Being the Man is hard hard work.”
After a long pause Johnny looked up at me with sad tired eyes and asked, “You ever think about dying while you’re sitting on the pot, man that’s the way to go aint it?”
I picked up the check and told Johnny this one was on me.
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Good Friday On Catholic Crutches
I have debated for a while if I want to write about the Catholic Church situation. Specifically, I am referencing the situation they find themselves in with regard to their priests and their rampant abuse of young males. I am using the term ‘they’ because I am not Catholic. I am married to one however; which reminds of the tag line to the Holiday Inn commercial “No, but I did sleep in a Holiday Inn last night.” Being married to a Catholic probably does not qualify me for this discussion, but being a middle-aged male and having a sense of natural order and natural desire certainly does qualify me.
Do I have an issue with the Catholic Church? I do. I have been watching these stories of the priests and their predilection for sex with young boys as it has unfolded and made national headlines. I recognize that I am making a declaration of judgment here and I accept the consequences in doing so. I do believe this is an unnatural behavior, a behavior pattern being driven by the failure to develop a healthy sexuality. Central to the development of the unhealthy response lies the initial denial of the sexual response in specific. I do understand intellectually that the vow of abstinence involves sacrifice and commitment to an ideal; that concept and church legacy is not lost on me. But it appears also that the vow is nevertheless being broken in a wholly unnatural manner, rendering the vow moot and broken into tiny shards across these mens robes as viewed through anyone’s rosy set of glasses.
Still the churches rose colored gasses remain glued to their resolute faces and priests are moved from parish to parish to evade conviction and to enable the behavior in another place and another time. If you search the facts of these cases many of these men have not been charged, let alone convicted, despite practicing the abuse for many years. A man without a priestly standing engaged in these criminal acts is typically convicted, publicly persecuted and stigmatized for the rest of his life; offered up as a sex offender complete with neighborhood handouts declaring his offense and containing his photograph. Those with the priestly standing often go right on ‘priesting’ and as history illustrates they continue abusing.
Now change directions with me.
Would we not be startled to see geese fly north for the winter?
Nature has a progression and order that is not easily confused, disguised or distorted. This fact, in my opinion, is too often overlooked as we explore situations like the one above. The naturalness of a feeling or action may vary from individual to individual, reflecting the unique circumstances of that persons understanding, education and history, but the global natural order of things does not materially change in my opinion.
This path of course leads to examining the naturalness of grown men of alleged spiritual power having sex with under age males. It calls into question the recent flurry of female teachers having sex with their early teens students. Are these natural acts? I think they are distortions of a natural desire suppressed, then acted upon in an unnatural manner. The writings of Wilhelm Reich come immediately to mind, but remain to be explored in a separate post. Priests without an outlet, female teachers out of touch with their adulthood and fearful of inordinate adult male controls. The audio tape of Florida teacher Deborah LaFave asking her 13 year old victim to make a ‘pinky promise’ in a little girl voice is chilling and illustrative of this point.
The resolution to the abuse of these young boys is complex in application and worthy of an entire book by someone with credentials suitable to the task. I do not pretend to lead the elephant from the room, but only to point at the pachyderm and declare it real; a beast that has left enormous droppings on the floor.
I do offer two personal thoughts.
The discernment of natural order from the unnatural is difficult with one’s eyes and minds closed tightly shut; or through rose colored glasses permanently stuck to the face.
and
The geese will not be flying north for the winter anytime soon.
Do I have an issue with the Catholic Church? I do. I have been watching these stories of the priests and their predilection for sex with young boys as it has unfolded and made national headlines. I recognize that I am making a declaration of judgment here and I accept the consequences in doing so. I do believe this is an unnatural behavior, a behavior pattern being driven by the failure to develop a healthy sexuality. Central to the development of the unhealthy response lies the initial denial of the sexual response in specific. I do understand intellectually that the vow of abstinence involves sacrifice and commitment to an ideal; that concept and church legacy is not lost on me. But it appears also that the vow is nevertheless being broken in a wholly unnatural manner, rendering the vow moot and broken into tiny shards across these mens robes as viewed through anyone’s rosy set of glasses.
Still the churches rose colored gasses remain glued to their resolute faces and priests are moved from parish to parish to evade conviction and to enable the behavior in another place and another time. If you search the facts of these cases many of these men have not been charged, let alone convicted, despite practicing the abuse for many years. A man without a priestly standing engaged in these criminal acts is typically convicted, publicly persecuted and stigmatized for the rest of his life; offered up as a sex offender complete with neighborhood handouts declaring his offense and containing his photograph. Those with the priestly standing often go right on ‘priesting’ and as history illustrates they continue abusing.
Now change directions with me.
Would we not be startled to see geese fly north for the winter?
Nature has a progression and order that is not easily confused, disguised or distorted. This fact, in my opinion, is too often overlooked as we explore situations like the one above. The naturalness of a feeling or action may vary from individual to individual, reflecting the unique circumstances of that persons understanding, education and history, but the global natural order of things does not materially change in my opinion.
This path of course leads to examining the naturalness of grown men of alleged spiritual power having sex with under age males. It calls into question the recent flurry of female teachers having sex with their early teens students. Are these natural acts? I think they are distortions of a natural desire suppressed, then acted upon in an unnatural manner. The writings of Wilhelm Reich come immediately to mind, but remain to be explored in a separate post. Priests without an outlet, female teachers out of touch with their adulthood and fearful of inordinate adult male controls. The audio tape of Florida teacher Deborah LaFave asking her 13 year old victim to make a ‘pinky promise’ in a little girl voice is chilling and illustrative of this point.
The resolution to the abuse of these young boys is complex in application and worthy of an entire book by someone with credentials suitable to the task. I do not pretend to lead the elephant from the room, but only to point at the pachyderm and declare it real; a beast that has left enormous droppings on the floor.
I do offer two personal thoughts.
The discernment of natural order from the unnatural is difficult with one’s eyes and minds closed tightly shut; or through rose colored glasses permanently stuck to the face.
and
The geese will not be flying north for the winter anytime soon.
May Take A Few Minutes
I'm telling you I am buried in work right now. Because I am happpier when my clients are happy I have to keep it short today.
However, after yesterdays post, I could not help noticing the Blogger message when we publish a post. For all of you non-bloggers this is the message that pops up when publishing....
"This may take a few minutes if you have a large blog."
But remember I'm keeping it short for today. I'm off to bust rocks now.
However, after yesterdays post, I could not help noticing the Blogger message when we publish a post. For all of you non-bloggers this is the message that pops up when publishing....
"This may take a few minutes if you have a large blog."
But remember I'm keeping it short for today. I'm off to bust rocks now.
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Blog is a Funny Word
Blog is a funny word. A lot of folks I talk to don’t know a blog from a frog. I learned this weekend that the lists of those that don’t know include my 76 year old mother. She can do email with help.
I was having a conversation with my sister and my mom. It went like this.
……………………………………………
Sister: Mom, have you seen Rick’s blog?
Mother: (after a few seconds of silence) Well, that’s a bizarre question. I guess I haven’t actually seen it in many, many years.
Sister: I don’t think he has actually had one that long.
Mother: What? Are you thinking that he just started developing one? This is embarrassing anyway, why would you ask me that?
Sister: Well, I guess I just wanted to know if you had seen it. I was looking at it the other day and I really enjoyed it.
Mother: Oh My God, what are you trying to tell me! And why on earth would Rick show you his blog! He doesn’t have any reason to do something like that!
Rick: No mother, I don’t think you understand. Beth saw my blog on the internet.
Mother: Well, My God in heaven! You put your blog on the internet! Why don’t you just walk around naked all the time so everybody can see your stupid blog! No sireeee, thank you, I don’t have any interest in looking at your blog! You just keep that thing in your pants, you’re not too old to spank you know!
Rick: But mother, I’m 54 years old.
Mother: Honey, NOBODY is interested in your blog anyway.
…………………………………………..
Well, that’s true I guess. Using either meaning. But, how did she know that?
Now I Get It…….maybe
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
Sarah Is Weary Of Long Walks Along The Beach
Rick Satire Report News Savannah, Georgia
April 11, 2006
Savannah Georgia native Sarah Parker is sick and tired of long walks along the beach with men.
Parker, a divorcee and mother of two placed an ad in the Heart-Link Personals looking for available single men. After reading several of the personals by other women she was surprised by the number of women that said they like to take long romantic walks along the beach. She also noted many women said they wanted to become friends before becoming intimate with their new dates.
Typically the ads were worded something along the lines of “I enjoy long romantic walks on the beach at sunset. Friendship is a requirement to earning my heart; I am not looking for a one-night stand.”
So, Sarah worded her ad similarly thinking there was wisdom in following the path of others. She also included a photo illustrating her striking prettiness and petite figure.
Today Sarah regrets the ad, but her email is full of proposals every day. I sat down with Ms. Parker and asked her to elaborate on her ordeal.
“I had no idea”, said Ms. Parker, “that men took the ads quite so literal. I just assumed this damned beach thing was code language for a romantic setting. I have now walked on the Savannah beaches for miles and miles, often with balding fat men with bad breath. The walks go on and on and on till I feel like there is sand all over me and the damn wind has blown my hair to smithereens. Then, I find some guy whose bones I want to jump the minute I see him, but hell no, we have to take stupid long walks on the ignorant beach, then after the mandatory beach walk they tell me it’s a good idea if we are just best friends first.”
Sarah took off her shoes and shook beach sand from them before continuing.
“I’m so sick of those stupid noisy seagulls and the dad-gum seaweed getting caught in my sandals I could just scream.”
Heart-Link Personals spokesperson Jenni Hart responded “What’s wrong with a walk on the beach? It sounds very romantic to me. That’s what everyone wants. She should count her blessings.”
Sunday, April 09, 2006
The House is Quiet
The house is quiet. Everyone is asleep except my small dachshund Harrison. He thinks he needs to do whatever it is I do, at all times, but he’s rolled up in a tight little ball in his bed, both eyes closed, one ear alert to me in case I move elsewhere.
All the rooms around me are dark, a small lamp is softly lighting the room where I am sitting. My office window is open to a mild Texas evening and a temperate spring breeze is bringing the exterior smells and sounds to my senses. The sounds from outside the window are those typical of deep evening in an urban setting. The smells are those of fresh spring growth from the tress, shrubs and flowers just outside the window’s view.
Somewhere down the street a lone insomnia stricken dog is working his way through a series of barks and howls as though he isn’t sure if he’s upset at a perceived intruder or if the moon seems too mysterious to let it hang peacefully in the sky.
The wail of a police siren made it’s way to my window a few minutes ago, that far away siren sound that signifies business is good in the policing enterprise somewhere in the late night of Texas urban sprawl; yet its distance renders it unimportant to my room and my mind apart from knowing it existed in that moment and was then gone again.
Occasionally I hear the sound of jets overhead, still 30 miles from the DFW Airport when they pass over my house, yet they are low enough to register their existence into my room, and I wonder where people are going on a Sunday evening so late. I’m wondering if they are lonely, or maybe solving loneliness by coming home to the ones they love. Then there are those individuals that fly away and back home again and remain lonely in either case; victims of a temporary relationship society that has misplaced their families, spouses and friends.
I sat down tonight to write about the idea that some people around us are givers, and others are takers. Some of us fall into a middle ground of giving and taking. Today I was given to. The gifts came from the person that has made a daily habit of spending her time and energy toward my comfort and happiness. She has been doing it for many years. And I am concious, though it’s not a proud confession on my part, I have learned to take more than I give.
And so I am keeping the dachsund up late while I sit and think about why some give and some take, and why some seem to get it just right. And I’m wondering if one attitude might be better than the other. But I have realized that the exercise is daunting, the hour late and my brain seems to be running in slow motion as the smells of spring and the quiet sounds of night after the world has retired interrupt my intentions and my concentration. For now, I’m going to go peacefully into the night with this puzzling mystery unsolved. Maybe tomorrow the truth will show itself to me. And if it doesn’t then perhaps its not my time to know.
For today, I am thankful for those special people that keep giving to me; and find their own happiness in doing so. I want to go there some day. Just for a change you see.
All the rooms around me are dark, a small lamp is softly lighting the room where I am sitting. My office window is open to a mild Texas evening and a temperate spring breeze is bringing the exterior smells and sounds to my senses. The sounds from outside the window are those typical of deep evening in an urban setting. The smells are those of fresh spring growth from the tress, shrubs and flowers just outside the window’s view.
Somewhere down the street a lone insomnia stricken dog is working his way through a series of barks and howls as though he isn’t sure if he’s upset at a perceived intruder or if the moon seems too mysterious to let it hang peacefully in the sky.
The wail of a police siren made it’s way to my window a few minutes ago, that far away siren sound that signifies business is good in the policing enterprise somewhere in the late night of Texas urban sprawl; yet its distance renders it unimportant to my room and my mind apart from knowing it existed in that moment and was then gone again.
Occasionally I hear the sound of jets overhead, still 30 miles from the DFW Airport when they pass over my house, yet they are low enough to register their existence into my room, and I wonder where people are going on a Sunday evening so late. I’m wondering if they are lonely, or maybe solving loneliness by coming home to the ones they love. Then there are those individuals that fly away and back home again and remain lonely in either case; victims of a temporary relationship society that has misplaced their families, spouses and friends.
I sat down tonight to write about the idea that some people around us are givers, and others are takers. Some of us fall into a middle ground of giving and taking. Today I was given to. The gifts came from the person that has made a daily habit of spending her time and energy toward my comfort and happiness. She has been doing it for many years. And I am concious, though it’s not a proud confession on my part, I have learned to take more than I give.
And so I am keeping the dachsund up late while I sit and think about why some give and some take, and why some seem to get it just right. And I’m wondering if one attitude might be better than the other. But I have realized that the exercise is daunting, the hour late and my brain seems to be running in slow motion as the smells of spring and the quiet sounds of night after the world has retired interrupt my intentions and my concentration. For now, I’m going to go peacefully into the night with this puzzling mystery unsolved. Maybe tomorrow the truth will show itself to me. And if it doesn’t then perhaps its not my time to know.
For today, I am thankful for those special people that keep giving to me; and find their own happiness in doing so. I want to go there some day. Just for a change you see.
Thursday, April 06, 2006
Suspender Association To Aid Chicago’s Underprivileged
Rick Satire Report News
Chicago, Illinois
The Elderly Men’s Suspenders Association is riding to the rescue of what they have identified as a pressing need in America.
Elbert Springer the Association’s president for 2006 says the group has decided to aid the youth of urban America in keeping their pants up.
Springer said numerous members of the association noticed the common sight of underprivileged youth walking the streets, forced to hold up their pants with one hand while they walked, and quite often, according to Springer “Half of their underwear in the back is exposed to view.”
Springer continued, “Obviously these poor kids are being forced to wear pants handed down from their fathers and older brothers and the pants are much too big. The thought of Chicago families not being able to afford a pair of pants that fit their children properly is heartbreaking.”
The association which meets on a weekly basis at the Elks Lodge is well known around Chicago for its efforts to promote the use of suspenders and it’s one of a kind National Suspender Museum. The museum is not actually in a facility as yet, but is displayed at the yearly officer election meeting. Springer seems quite serious about providing suspenders for the youth of Chicago, including the implementation of a ride around program where members carry a box of used suspenders in the car and make them available to all the kids they encounter wearing pants that are ‘too big’.
In his yearly address before the membership in late March Springer ended his speech with the stirring oratory, “We look for a day when all the youth of Chicago can hold their heads high and use both hands for making progress in the world, instead of using one hand to hold up their pants. We pray and trust for a day when the embarrassment of having your underwear showing is eradicated and these kids dignity is restored.”
Several club members were seen wiping away tears as Springer left the podium.
Chicago, Illinois
The Elderly Men’s Suspenders Association is riding to the rescue of what they have identified as a pressing need in America.Elbert Springer the Association’s president for 2006 says the group has decided to aid the youth of urban America in keeping their pants up.
Springer said numerous members of the association noticed the common sight of underprivileged youth walking the streets, forced to hold up their pants with one hand while they walked, and quite often, according to Springer “Half of their underwear in the back is exposed to view.”
Springer continued, “Obviously these poor kids are being forced to wear pants handed down from their fathers and older brothers and the pants are much too big. The thought of Chicago families not being able to afford a pair of pants that fit their children properly is heartbreaking.”
The association which meets on a weekly basis at the Elks Lodge is well known around Chicago for its efforts to promote the use of suspenders and it’s one of a kind National Suspender Museum. The museum is not actually in a facility as yet, but is displayed at the yearly officer election meeting. Springer seems quite serious about providing suspenders for the youth of Chicago, including the implementation of a ride around program where members carry a box of used suspenders in the car and make them available to all the kids they encounter wearing pants that are ‘too big’.
In his yearly address before the membership in late March Springer ended his speech with the stirring oratory, “We look for a day when all the youth of Chicago can hold their heads high and use both hands for making progress in the world, instead of using one hand to hold up their pants. We pray and trust for a day when the embarrassment of having your underwear showing is eradicated and these kids dignity is restored.”Several club members were seen wiping away tears as Springer left the podium.
The Coach is Hard to Catch
I went to a Texas Rangers baseball game last night and got home late so I have very little for you today. Remember I talked about my legendary track coach and teammate Bill Collins a week or so back? I thought you might like to watch the widely acknowledged fastest human over the age of 50 in action. My wife took the video of Bill racing in the 200 meter race in Boston two weeks ago. He had broken the existing world record for men over 55 in this distance in Linz, Austria the weekend before and ran just a hair slower in this race. For a guy that is 55 yers old you may be surprised! The video has sound also. Just click the icon if you have any interest in this sort of thing.
You don't even want to know what his workouts are like; they are legendary. I have been doing my training per his instructions and schedule for nearly a year now; and dang am I ever tired! At the end of this month I will run in a relay race in Philadelphia (Penn Relays) where I get to hand the baton to Bill for the anchor leg. I'd say we have a good chance!
And I should add that Sandra and her blog "Not That Desperate' have been added to my blogroll. I'm very tardy on that one; apologies to Sandra whose posts and comments are always very thoughtful and interesting.
You don't even want to know what his workouts are like; they are legendary. I have been doing my training per his instructions and schedule for nearly a year now; and dang am I ever tired! At the end of this month I will run in a relay race in Philadelphia (Penn Relays) where I get to hand the baton to Bill for the anchor leg. I'd say we have a good chance!
And I should add that Sandra and her blog "Not That Desperate' have been added to my blogroll. I'm very tardy on that one; apologies to Sandra whose posts and comments are always very thoughtful and interesting.
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Zoos, Roos and Zebras
Laughing keeps us healthy and of course it means we are happy. I have always assumed the Creator has a sense of humor. On Monday I went to the zoo with my 20 month old grandson and decided my reasoning about the Creator's sense of humor is sound.
We were staring at a Zebra while my grandson gave us his version of the pronunciation of ‘zebra’. Reading the text that the zoo places at each exhibit I learned that the hoofs of a zebra are made of the same material ‘keratin’ as human finger nails. Then I could not help but notice that the zebra pattern looked familiar. The familiar look came from my years of fingerprinting suspects and viewing print cards of offenders during investigations. I know fingerprints, and the zebra markings look just like fingerprints. I have the impression the Creator may have been making zebras while having human fingers still running around in his brain or whatever a Creator uses to create with. Or maybe he was just wondering if we could put it together?
I walked around more, and noticed all of the tiny children being pushed in strollers by their mothers. Then I came upon the Kangaroos and this mother with baby roo ‘in pouch’ scene. It brought another smile.
Then in a very strange coincidence I ran into my Uncle Max (pictured below) who went to the zoo on the very same day!
I'm out.
We were staring at a Zebra while my grandson gave us his version of the pronunciation of ‘zebra’. Reading the text that the zoo places at each exhibit I learned that the hoofs of a zebra are made of the same material ‘keratin’ as human finger nails. Then I could not help but notice that the zebra pattern looked familiar. The familiar look came from my years of fingerprinting suspects and viewing print cards of offenders during investigations. I know fingerprints, and the zebra markings look just like fingerprints. I have the impression the Creator may have been making zebras while having human fingers still running around in his brain or whatever a Creator uses to create with. Or maybe he was just wondering if we could put it together?
I walked around more, and noticed all of the tiny children being pushed in strollers by their mothers. Then I came upon the Kangaroos and this mother with baby roo ‘in pouch’ scene. It brought another smile.
Then in a very strange coincidence I ran into my Uncle Max (pictured below) who went to the zoo on the very same day!
I'm out.
Monday, April 03, 2006
Thanks Ginger!
I'm hoping you like the new look of my site. The credit goes to Ginger who runs a blog design biz called Baby Jane's Blogs. She's a real pro and delivered (as we say in the biz world) on time, in budget with professonal results. She's a pleasure to work with and I recommend her. So if you want a new face for your blog then just take a look to the left side of my site where you will find a Baby Jane's Blogs link.
Thanks Ginger!
____________________________________________________________
And here is the scoop on my new design:
I chose the red doors slightly opened because it plays well with the nature of my site. I like to think we are all searching for new meanings and fresh understandings. Sometimes we have to look in places we have never looked; a sort of looking into the darkness behind the slightly opened doors if you will. The door is my reminder that what we search for sometimes requires looking beyond what is immediately observable. A chance to say...Oh...Now I Get It.......maybe.
You will notice a weathered cross on the door. Those that read here regularly know my site is not about religion particularly but does occasionally head off in a spiritual or philosophical direction. I like to think we all aquire our spiritual life in this 'living it and learning it' fashion. Therefore I used photoshop to dodge in the cross symbology on the door, implying it has weathered in place on the door over a long period of time; as our own spritiuality often does in our lives as we age, learn, evolve and hopefully fully transcend to where we stand completely on the other side of the door.
The stone/adobe walls represent the fortresses we all build around ourselves, reducing the original innocent child into a stone fortress in our attempts to keep the mean world at bay. But there is always a door that can lead us outside ourselves; and sometimes the doors are partially open, waiting patiently for us to look beyond.
What's just beyond your doors?
Thanks Ginger!
____________________________________________________________
And here is the scoop on my new design:
I chose the red doors slightly opened because it plays well with the nature of my site. I like to think we are all searching for new meanings and fresh understandings. Sometimes we have to look in places we have never looked; a sort of looking into the darkness behind the slightly opened doors if you will. The door is my reminder that what we search for sometimes requires looking beyond what is immediately observable. A chance to say...Oh...Now I Get It.......maybe.
You will notice a weathered cross on the door. Those that read here regularly know my site is not about religion particularly but does occasionally head off in a spiritual or philosophical direction. I like to think we all aquire our spiritual life in this 'living it and learning it' fashion. Therefore I used photoshop to dodge in the cross symbology on the door, implying it has weathered in place on the door over a long period of time; as our own spritiuality often does in our lives as we age, learn, evolve and hopefully fully transcend to where we stand completely on the other side of the door.
The stone/adobe walls represent the fortresses we all build around ourselves, reducing the original innocent child into a stone fortress in our attempts to keep the mean world at bay. But there is always a door that can lead us outside ourselves; and sometimes the doors are partially open, waiting patiently for us to look beyond.
What's just beyond your doors?
Sunday, April 02, 2006
National Enquirer Losing Credibility
Rick Satire Report NewsNew York, NY
National Enquirer executives are steaming mad. According to a new study the venerable magazine’s hard earned journalistic credibility is being eroded by bloggers.
The problem began with bloggers that are undermining the stories written by Enquirer reporters, often without even knowing it. The study cited a recent example where the National Enquirer claimed an exclusive scoop by reporting to its readers that Oprah Winfrey had recently gained 32 pounds because she was mourning a lost romance from her early teen years.
However Phyllis Schneider of Elk Grove, New Jersey, author of a blog that prides itself on reporting the very latest about celebrities changed things for the Enquirer in a dramatic fashion. Phyliss had been in the Oprah studio audience just the day before and Phyliss blogged that the Enquirer news account was false and that it did not appear Oprah had gained even one pound. She lambasted The Enquirer for its sloppy and willfully deceptive reporting. She also said “Oprah looked pretty as a picture, not a thing like that awful fat picture the Enquirer used.”
In another example cited in the study, the Enquirer reported in February of 2004 that American astronaut Michael McNamaran had mated with a moon person on his last trip to the moon and not told anyone, including NASA, about the clandestine affair. According to the Enquirer story McNamaran was heartbroken and drinking heavily as a result of his inability to return to the moon and the love of his life.
However the study also reported that a lady friend of McNamaran’s, a Houston neighbor writing a blog about the ‘goings on’ of her neighborhood, posted that McNamaran was just fine and had been openly flirting with her when her husband was on out of town trips and had recently asked her to play tennis.
According to the study the unnamed blogger did not even know about the Enquirer story when she posted her story of McNamaran’s advances. “If Michael has a girlfriend or whatever on the moon you sure wouldn’t know it. He chases after me like a duck after a fat June bug”, drawled the pretty Texan blogger.
How much longer before bloggers destroy the ironclad credibility of the venerable National Enquirer? The Enquirer has vowed it will print an upcoming exclusive story on bloggers gaining weight and having secret love children with Muslim terrorists as a means of fighting fire with fire. According to the spokesperson that should set off a new round of explosions here in America.
The National Enquirer refused additional comment other than to say its reporters were very busy covering a new Jennifer Anniston story. They hinted that Jennifer was seen on a date french-kissing her father and that she also appeared to be pregnant or at least gaining weight rapidly. This reporter advised the Enquirer spokesperson that there are currently over 7 million blogs devoted to posting about Jennifer Anniston. The spokesperson appeared to pale and she began hyperventilating. She also indicated the interview was over since she needed to call some of her reporters immediately.
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Discernment
My blog friend Robert Shapiro wrote a comment to one of my posts that has left me thinking for some time. I have decided that I believe I know what Robert was saying to me; and if I do not he has nevertheless lead me to a new understanding of an important concept.Robert was discussing the difference between the power of discernment and the process of judgment and how we might use the difference in the definitions to enrich our interaction with the world. And if I have misunderstood him, I know he will be right here to help me better understand.
We spend a lot of time in our lives judging others. I know I have spent too much valuable time doing so. If you watch any political television or cable news shows you can actually see careers being built on this activity.
But that is really for the politicos and doesn’t enter into our personal relationships; but the central theme of casting judgment certainly does.
The process of judging involves deciding that another person’s conduct, appearance, attitude or belief system is not acceptable. Of course we decide on this ‘acceptability’ based on our own personal beliefs. This is a form of saying to the individual I believe what is acceptable or appropriate for me is the most important thing and I require you to be as perfect and smart as me or suffer my judgment.
The process of discernment involves deciding that what we see in another individuals conduct, appearance, attitude or belief system is for us, or conversely, not for us. If we decide it is not for us then we can just let it go, using the power of discernment in rejecting what does not work for our life without judging the individual at all.
For purposes of simple discussion lets take the case of thin and athletic people casting judgment on the obese. We decide they are fat, lazy overeaters and all they have to do is simply exercise like me. What a pitiful sight these obese people are, and what about their health? Are these people stupid as well as being lazy overeaters?
This is the process of judgment, deciding that the obese are less than us fit folks because they just don’t measure up to our personal fitness standards. Shame on them.
And, being a lifelong athlete, I have had this judgment reversed on me. I have been judged by some obese friends as being a ‘fitness nut’ with a narcissistic complex.
Let’s look at the same process using discernment rather than judgment. Using discernment it is possible to look at the obese and ‘discern’ that this is not the lifestyle for me; then let it go since it is their decision to live in the world in that manner. And, perhaps the obese can discern that my way is not for them and just let it go.
This difference between judgment and discernment is somewhat simple in the telling and articulation. However I think so few of us have stumbled on this concept, and I believe its actual practice is far more rare than the practice of judgment.
Clearly there is a line where behavior becomes criminal and judgment is required by the legal system, but that is another blog and another pattern of thinking for yet another day.
I have been putting this discernment v judgment into action recently and I thank my reader and friend for the education. As my friend Robert might put it; It works quite well does it not?
Now I Get It.......maybe.
Monday, March 27, 2006
Freedom from the Double Standard?
I promised a discussion of the sexual double standard here; or perhaps I only said I had some thoughts on the subject. I have a bit of trepidation about throwing my thoughts out here just because they are so incomplete and are based solely on my life’s observations and certainly not based on serious research or reading on my part.
So rather than offering a knowledgeable working theory here, maybe its better to just open the discussion by doing nothing more than making a splash in the pool that might get a reader wet and ultimately into the pool with me.
It’s easy enough to talk about the biologic drives of the genders and in some ways it is yesterdays news. Yet often old news is the most accurate news simply because the facts have been tested.
There is no question in my mind that the point made by Jenn regarding the double standard women face in our culture is quite real. Later, Patti-Cake reinforced the same thought. Women in our society walk a very fine and precarious line in experiencing their sexuality. They are barraged daily by advertising that intends to sex them up, and yet cautioned that the sexual energy produced within themselves is acceptable only when exercised in narrowly defined ways.
Here are some thoughts:
I have observed that women treat their sexuality, or more specifically their sexual availability as a commodity. Have you heard the saying “Why would he buy the cow (no negative intended) if he can get the milk for free? This old adage has been handed down from generation of mothers to daughters. That is, if a woman in our culture is going to have an acceptable sexual relationship with a man then a corresponding thing of value is required as payment by the male. The things of value vary. It can be, and often is the promise of marriage, safety and child rearing. This is the often discussed fulfillment of the biologic drive inherent in women to replenish the earth with humans in a safe environment. It is also often true the when seeking this requisite safety that the female relinquishes much of the relationship control to the chosen male; typically because he is simply physically stronger. This control often becomes ‘out of control’ to the point where many women in our society are left with only one control; the control of the mating ritual.
I have also observed that when the required children are produced, and safety has been provided, there is a missing emotional piece required by women as they gain additional maturity. It is a recognition that emotional support is missing with the chosen male partner, often leading to the seeking of emotional support from other men. This is the classic affair in its genesis, and the generator of the peculiar fascination with Alan Alda. It also clears the way to the current predictable path toward the emasculated metro-sexual. Is there any doubt that Mr. Alda and the standard metro-sexual has merely morphed himself into a new role; playing an old game with new tools? If the women doubt this, trust me that the men do not.
I also believe men support the double standard and are more responsible than either gender for its existence. We are driven by a biologic need to mate with anything that moves and produce children that resemble our own presumed perfection. In order to control our gene line it is necessary to control the female. The control involves placing multiple locks on the female’s sexual behavior, including the Muslim practice of removing the clitoris.
It’s my wandering around belief, for want of a more sound or more articulate belief, that the phenomena of men controlling women’s behavior through shaming and even surgical techniques, coupled with the females need to trade sex for another thing of value leads to the cycle of double standard reinforcement within the culture.
Within our society many have understood the underlying process and thrown off the shackles of this biological slavery. Women now control much of the US economy and important resource gathering capability. They are graduating from our universities as the majority gender. Economic power is available to and understood by many women. Men are beginning to assert new claims to rights over birth control and even fighting for disownment rights of their offspring when they are not in agreement with their birth.
Only when we overcome our biology through elective intellectual re-programming will we succeed in freeing our sexual selves from our self imposed slavery to the double standard culture.
When will the double standard disappear? Perhaps when women learn to experience and celebrate their sexuality without a reciprocal price being extracted from the male; and perhaps when men learn to experience and celebrate their sexuality without a corresponding compulsion to gain control of the subject females life and behavior.
If you have come this far you have been splashed and the floor/pool is open.
So rather than offering a knowledgeable working theory here, maybe its better to just open the discussion by doing nothing more than making a splash in the pool that might get a reader wet and ultimately into the pool with me.
It’s easy enough to talk about the biologic drives of the genders and in some ways it is yesterdays news. Yet often old news is the most accurate news simply because the facts have been tested.
There is no question in my mind that the point made by Jenn regarding the double standard women face in our culture is quite real. Later, Patti-Cake reinforced the same thought. Women in our society walk a very fine and precarious line in experiencing their sexuality. They are barraged daily by advertising that intends to sex them up, and yet cautioned that the sexual energy produced within themselves is acceptable only when exercised in narrowly defined ways.
Here are some thoughts:
I have observed that women treat their sexuality, or more specifically their sexual availability as a commodity. Have you heard the saying “Why would he buy the cow (no negative intended) if he can get the milk for free? This old adage has been handed down from generation of mothers to daughters. That is, if a woman in our culture is going to have an acceptable sexual relationship with a man then a corresponding thing of value is required as payment by the male. The things of value vary. It can be, and often is the promise of marriage, safety and child rearing. This is the often discussed fulfillment of the biologic drive inherent in women to replenish the earth with humans in a safe environment. It is also often true the when seeking this requisite safety that the female relinquishes much of the relationship control to the chosen male; typically because he is simply physically stronger. This control often becomes ‘out of control’ to the point where many women in our society are left with only one control; the control of the mating ritual.
I have also observed that when the required children are produced, and safety has been provided, there is a missing emotional piece required by women as they gain additional maturity. It is a recognition that emotional support is missing with the chosen male partner, often leading to the seeking of emotional support from other men. This is the classic affair in its genesis, and the generator of the peculiar fascination with Alan Alda. It also clears the way to the current predictable path toward the emasculated metro-sexual. Is there any doubt that Mr. Alda and the standard metro-sexual has merely morphed himself into a new role; playing an old game with new tools? If the women doubt this, trust me that the men do not.
I also believe men support the double standard and are more responsible than either gender for its existence. We are driven by a biologic need to mate with anything that moves and produce children that resemble our own presumed perfection. In order to control our gene line it is necessary to control the female. The control involves placing multiple locks on the female’s sexual behavior, including the Muslim practice of removing the clitoris.
It’s my wandering around belief, for want of a more sound or more articulate belief, that the phenomena of men controlling women’s behavior through shaming and even surgical techniques, coupled with the females need to trade sex for another thing of value leads to the cycle of double standard reinforcement within the culture.
Within our society many have understood the underlying process and thrown off the shackles of this biological slavery. Women now control much of the US economy and important resource gathering capability. They are graduating from our universities as the majority gender. Economic power is available to and understood by many women. Men are beginning to assert new claims to rights over birth control and even fighting for disownment rights of their offspring when they are not in agreement with their birth.
Only when we overcome our biology through elective intellectual re-programming will we succeed in freeing our sexual selves from our self imposed slavery to the double standard culture.
When will the double standard disappear? Perhaps when women learn to experience and celebrate their sexuality without a reciprocal price being extracted from the male; and perhaps when men learn to experience and celebrate their sexuality without a corresponding compulsion to gain control of the subject females life and behavior.
If you have come this far you have been splashed and the floor/pool is open.
Back to Texas
Hi everyone.
We returned from Boston late last night. The meet went great for everyone, myself included and one of my teammmates Bobby Whilden established 2 new indoor world records in his age group. He is an extremely fast former University of Texas legend that is now 70 and burning up the masters trackcircuit.
Unfortunately I don't have time this morning to bore you with details of track; and was that a collective sigh of relief on your end?
One highlight: The host hotel for the meet was the Marriott Copley at Copley Square. It's a four star that is normally kinda pricey but was deeply discounted to the athletes. It had those beds that you just DO NOT want to get out of; know what I mean?
The kind with crisp clean cotton sheets, one of those soft topper things for which I don't know the name, and big down pillows, 4 per bed. The kind of bed you want to re-create at home.
Here's a photo.
Here is one photo of the view.
Like I said, I get to hang around with world record holding track athletes because they are my teammmates. I hang around hoping some of the magic will rub off on me. In the center is Bobby Whilden, U Texas legend still knocking the track world off its hinges at 70. On the right is Bill Collins, a 55 year old track legend. Bill owns so many American and World Records he may have lost count. I'm on the far left trying to hijack some of the speed and magic from these two!
I know I promised Jenn and Patti Cake a discussion forum on the double standard, gottta put some worms back in the can today, then think on that one a little.
Have a good Monday!
##
We returned from Boston late last night. The meet went great for everyone, myself included and one of my teammmates Bobby Whilden established 2 new indoor world records in his age group. He is an extremely fast former University of Texas legend that is now 70 and burning up the masters trackcircuit.
Unfortunately I don't have time this morning to bore you with details of track; and was that a collective sigh of relief on your end?
One highlight: The host hotel for the meet was the Marriott Copley at Copley Square. It's a four star that is normally kinda pricey but was deeply discounted to the athletes. It had those beds that you just DO NOT want to get out of; know what I mean?
The kind with crisp clean cotton sheets, one of those soft topper things for which I don't know the name, and big down pillows, 4 per bed. The kind of bed you want to re-create at home.
Here's a photo.
Here is one photo of the view.
Like I said, I get to hang around with world record holding track athletes because they are my teammmates. I hang around hoping some of the magic will rub off on me. In the center is Bobby Whilden, U Texas legend still knocking the track world off its hinges at 70. On the right is Bill Collins, a 55 year old track legend. Bill owns so many American and World Records he may have lost count. I'm on the far left trying to hijack some of the speed and magic from these two!
I know I promised Jenn and Patti Cake a discussion forum on the double standard, gottta put some worms back in the can today, then think on that one a little.
Have a good Monday!
##
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Going to Boston
Friday I fly from Dallas to Boston for a track meet. This is the indoor meet of the year for masters track athletes. It’s the USA Track & Field National Indoor Championships and I’m really looking forward to being there.
I will get to meet up with my Houston Elite teammates, compete against some and cheer for the others. The very best masters tracksters in the US will be there so the competition will be fierce and fast. I will be running in the 60, 200 and 400 meter races.
The races occur on a banked 200 meter track at the Reggie Lewis Track and Athletic Center.
Last week the World Indoor Championships were held in Linz, Austria. I didn’t go there, but my coach Bill Collins had a great meet. That’s a photo of Bill below. The pic was taken in Linz last week.
He’s the one doing a standing start. The pic is from the 60 meters final race. Despite the stand-up start, necessitated because of a strained abdominal muscle, he ran a new world record for men over 55 in this race. Earlier in the meet he also set a new world record in the 200 meters.
The workouts he gives me are brutal and it is the reason he is the best in the world; he does the same workouts. I'm sure I’ll never catch him since no one in the world can, but it’s always fun for me to hang out with, chase and be coached by a legend.
Collins story
Boston story
So...I’m going from sunny balmy Texas to cold snowy Boston and I will miss you all. Back Monday.
Have a wonderful weekend.
I will get to meet up with my Houston Elite teammates, compete against some and cheer for the others. The very best masters tracksters in the US will be there so the competition will be fierce and fast. I will be running in the 60, 200 and 400 meter races.
The races occur on a banked 200 meter track at the Reggie Lewis Track and Athletic Center.
Last week the World Indoor Championships were held in Linz, Austria. I didn’t go there, but my coach Bill Collins had a great meet. That’s a photo of Bill below. The pic was taken in Linz last week.
He’s the one doing a standing start. The pic is from the 60 meters final race. Despite the stand-up start, necessitated because of a strained abdominal muscle, he ran a new world record for men over 55 in this race. Earlier in the meet he also set a new world record in the 200 meters.
The workouts he gives me are brutal and it is the reason he is the best in the world; he does the same workouts. I'm sure I’ll never catch him since no one in the world can, but it’s always fun for me to hang out with, chase and be coached by a legend.
Collins story
Boston story
So...I’m going from sunny balmy Texas to cold snowy Boston and I will miss you all. Back Monday.
Have a wonderful weekend.
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Daily Erasing
As I roam around the various blogs I am struck by the wide variety of material and thinking that I encounter. One emotion I continually see is the ever popular ‘rant’ blog. We have all seen or written these. There is always something we hate or dislike or disapprove of and so on.
I try to make sense of it this way:
I am one that believes. I do not think we are here accidentally. I believe we come to this life in a pure form and this I think can be witnessed in the wonder of childhood and all of its attendant innocence, honesty and intuition.
I believe; because I want to open my understanding to the things I have never known, seeking and finding the truths that I can not conceive, yet I know exist outside my present comprehension. That self awareness of my own ignorance propels me toward the corollary thought that there is a source that does know all things. Believing in that source begs the question of whether the source is pure good or something less. Sensing the feeling I, and others I know have when we achieve good instead of darkness causes me to know without hesitation that good is at the core of the creation. It is a pure good without dilution.
How then to bring the good that is pure in its origin to our more difficult edges of daily existence?
The mind is like a magnet. It draws energy and information from many sources. Those sources imprint the accepted information on the mind. The mind then controls our thoughts and behavior based on the imprinting we allow to take place. Imagine that you could control the imprinting. I ask you to imagine this because I believe each of us can do it. Imagine that you can control the polarity of the magnet in your mind that attracts the negative or the positive. If easier, imagine you have an eraser and you can choose what you keep as an imprint and you also choose what to erase. Then erase what invokes negative feeling, thoughts and behaviors. Imagine it as a delete key on your mental keyboard.
The good that exists inside us each has been there from the beginning awaiting our acknowledgment. The dark that exists was not originally there. It is not present in the freshness of early childhood, it is acquired from the outside. The darkness can be acknowledged or it can be dismissed; erased if you will. The polarity of the mental magnet reversed; so that only the good remains and the hate and darkness drop away.
Some would call this acting on our intuitive good. Because the good is the essence of the creation it is reasonable to accept that the good is in its natural home and has always been there and that darkness is the unwelcome guest. The dark smudge that requires erasure.
This is all so very difficult isn’t it? We work with diligence at erasing the good things and allow the dark smudges; denying the good that is original while fostering the dark that is the interloper.
I’m still at work on this rock pile. I'm hoping to erase what didn’t come into the world with me as an original and dignified passenger, but rather stuck it’s thumb out and is now hitching a ride, occupying a spot in which it is unwelcome.
I trust for a tomorrow where my mind exempts itself from the negative imposters embedded in daily life; the day when I am able to accurately discern the innate positive truth from the outer barrage of negating non-truth. I don't know yet what that pure truth might be. I do know where to look. I know it has as always been inside me, waiting to be separated from the imposters. I pray for the day I find it's every peace/piece.
I pray the same for you each.
I try to make sense of it this way:
I am one that believes. I do not think we are here accidentally. I believe we come to this life in a pure form and this I think can be witnessed in the wonder of childhood and all of its attendant innocence, honesty and intuition.
I believe; because I want to open my understanding to the things I have never known, seeking and finding the truths that I can not conceive, yet I know exist outside my present comprehension. That self awareness of my own ignorance propels me toward the corollary thought that there is a source that does know all things. Believing in that source begs the question of whether the source is pure good or something less. Sensing the feeling I, and others I know have when we achieve good instead of darkness causes me to know without hesitation that good is at the core of the creation. It is a pure good without dilution.
How then to bring the good that is pure in its origin to our more difficult edges of daily existence?
The mind is like a magnet. It draws energy and information from many sources. Those sources imprint the accepted information on the mind. The mind then controls our thoughts and behavior based on the imprinting we allow to take place. Imagine that you could control the imprinting. I ask you to imagine this because I believe each of us can do it. Imagine that you can control the polarity of the magnet in your mind that attracts the negative or the positive. If easier, imagine you have an eraser and you can choose what you keep as an imprint and you also choose what to erase. Then erase what invokes negative feeling, thoughts and behaviors. Imagine it as a delete key on your mental keyboard.
The good that exists inside us each has been there from the beginning awaiting our acknowledgment. The dark that exists was not originally there. It is not present in the freshness of early childhood, it is acquired from the outside. The darkness can be acknowledged or it can be dismissed; erased if you will. The polarity of the mental magnet reversed; so that only the good remains and the hate and darkness drop away.
Some would call this acting on our intuitive good. Because the good is the essence of the creation it is reasonable to accept that the good is in its natural home and has always been there and that darkness is the unwelcome guest. The dark smudge that requires erasure.
This is all so very difficult isn’t it? We work with diligence at erasing the good things and allow the dark smudges; denying the good that is original while fostering the dark that is the interloper.
I’m still at work on this rock pile. I'm hoping to erase what didn’t come into the world with me as an original and dignified passenger, but rather stuck it’s thumb out and is now hitching a ride, occupying a spot in which it is unwelcome.
I trust for a tomorrow where my mind exempts itself from the negative imposters embedded in daily life; the day when I am able to accurately discern the innate positive truth from the outer barrage of negating non-truth. I don't know yet what that pure truth might be. I do know where to look. I know it has as always been inside me, waiting to be separated from the imposters. I pray for the day I find it's every peace/piece.
I pray the same for you each.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Legislators Work Late In Lafave Case
Rick Satire Report NewsSunny Florida
Charges against Debra Lafave were dropped yesterday by the judge in her prosecution. The Florida teacher was accused of having sex with a 14 year old male student. Lafave admitted to the contact with the student in interviews with the police.
In a stunning move within the Florida legislator male congress members worked throughout the night attempting to pass new legislation regarding the penalties for crimes like Lafave’s.
The legislators hoped to pass legislation with retroactive applications that would include Lafave.
The legislation being promoted in the evening’s 11th hour read as follows:
Article 69.69 Penalties/Requirements for sexual reformation:
When a licensed or unlicensed female individual, being compensated to teach within a State of Florida educational institution is convicted of sexual crimes against an opposite sex minor, the described offender will be required to be educated by the current and former male members of congress in the sexual arts. Offender will engage in regular and non-regular sexual acts with the described male legislators in an attempt to reform the offender into enjoying sexual contact with male adults in lieu of male minors. Female members of the legislature are exempt from this reforming activity with the offender.
Exception A: When said offender(s) do not rise to the level of sexual attraction or personal beauty of Debra Lafave, members may option out of the reform process.
The vote failed along gender lines; female members voting in the negative. Dismayed male members said the legislation is unlikely to be raised again as all of the legislators were motivated by the opportunity to reform Miss Lafave in particular.
This reporter attempted to contact former President Bill Clinton for comment. His staff said they were busy filing residency papers for Clinton to become a Florida resident, and that Mr.Clinton was pondering a run for the Florida Senate. After hearing the judge's ruling, the staff asked if I knew of Lafave's exact whereabouts, indicating Mr. Clinton felt she could benefit from his counsel.
****************************************************************
Now. On a more serious note. Does anyone seriously doubt the double standard in our society? Can you imagine a male offender walking away from the courtroom; no punishment at all for raping a 14 year old female student? Not one day spent in jail? Imagine the national outrage.
Sunday, March 19, 2006
Bonds Drops A Bombshell On Reporters
Rick Satire Report NewsScottsdale, Arizona
Barry Bonds has had enough of being branded as a cheater. Bonds let the whole world know in a press conference yesterday that he is prepared to fight back.
During the press conference reporters refused to back off questioning Bonds about his alleged steroid use over the past few years. The final straw occurred when a reporter questioned him about the impending career home run record he is set to break.
According to sources the reporter asked Bonds if he felt he had cheated his way into the record books. In a firm voice, Bonds dropped the bombshell no one expected.
Bonds openly declared he had been given secret information that many of the sportswriters in the room, including his questioner, had been using ‘spell-check’ on a regular basis when composing their articles.
“The time has come to fight back”, declared Bonds, “I have been patient with these allegations for a long time, but the very idea that a reporter with a journalism degree would resort to a computer spelling words for them sickens me and it should sicken any fair minded American.” Bonds went on to state that the profession of sports reporting now has an enormous problem to solve and that many individual reporters have a lot of questions to answer themselves. Bonds went on to call for mandatory spell testing for all sports reporters.
Contacted at his home in California, the Reverend Jesse Jackson said the current use of spell-check by journalist began with the Bush administrations failures in placing African Americans in high profile positions. Reminded that President Bush has had two successive Secretaries of State that are black, Jackson said Powell and Rice “don’t count.”
Ralph Nader also expressed concern about the relative safety of spell - check, expressing grave concerns that it could catch every misspelled word every time. He said this requires government checks on the safety of spell-check and the development of appropriate safety warnings.
Bonds agent says the slugger will continue to point out other cheaters in our society, including corporate employees that take home post-it notes for personal use.
Palestinian Soldier Declares Israeli Boys Are Sissy Pants
Rick Satire Report NewsHammas Eastern Headquarters
Palestinian soldier Samir Bin A-Fartun made a stark declaration to the Hammas controlled press yesterday following another Palestinian rock throwing attack on Israeli tanks.
In a display of Hammas pride and exuberance he declared outright that Israeli boys are being raised as sissy pants. Bin A-Fartun’s comments stem from his observations that Israeli boys are far less proficient at throwing rocks and running with sticks than Palestinian boys.
“If you observe Israeli boys trying to throw a rock it will make you know these are sissy boys,” said Bin A-Fartun as he spat into the dusty sand at his feet. “They have never had to learn to throw rocks like our boys. Always they have had the tanks and airplanes and bulldozers to fight with. This has made them soft. Because Yasser Arafat was careful to take the Palestinian’s money and put it into Swiss bank accounts and save it for us we had to learn to fight with sticks and rocks. Arafat even put the money in his own name so it would not get confused with another countries money. But these Israelis have always had this stupid democracy and capitalism to buy airplanes and tanks. Now they see the result of this nonsense. They have boys that cannot throw the rocks for shit.” Bin A-Fartun grinned widely before going on, “I can hear sometimes the Israeli mothers crying out to their boys to not run with sticks. They say the eye will be punched out. This is silly madness, our smallest of boys can run with the sharp sticks all the way to the tanks and strike the wheels of the tanks with the stick, plus even throw a rock besides running with the stick.”
Bin A-Fartun took this reporter to a back room of the Hammas hut serving as its eastern headquarters and showed me the giant pile of rocks recently imported by Hammas. “All of these rocks will be thrown against the tanks and some day we will be strong enough to throw them into the sky and hit airplanes,” said A-Fartun. “And now since Hammas is in charge we have established a new supplier of rocks. Rocks which are lighter yet stronger.” In addition to the rock supply, a small elderly Palestinian soldier was sharpening sticks and placing them carefully in a growing pile of other sticks.
“Our boys can run with sticks fast, even ones with sharp points and they can make the paint come off the sides of the tanks with a really big sharp rock”, boasted A-Fartun. “The Israeli’s think they are so smart to bulldoze down the houses, but every day we see the Jimmy Carter and his wife Rosalyn with their hammers and all the friends rebuilding the houses.”
Bin A-Fartun offered no comment regarding his source for sharp sticks, but I was advised by other Hammas soldiers that they were being stolen from the Jimmy and Rosalyn Carter housing projects.
“I tell you in front of Allah, these Israeli boys are sissy pants rock throwers. It must be so embarrassing for them,” summarized A-Fartun as he strode proudly across the sand and into the sunset.
Friday, March 17, 2006
Elderly Man Arrested For Driving Like A Young Man
Rick Satire Report News Dallas Police Headquarters
Dallas, Texas
Police in Dallas reported yesterday that an elderly man, 87 years of age, was arrested for driving like a young person.
The driver, Holcumb Stanley, said he had no idea why the patrol officer was pulling him over.
Dallas PD officer Anthony ‘Radar’ Brightone said the dispatcher had received a flurry of calls from cell phone users describing an elderly man driving as if he were young.
One caller told the dispatcher that the elderly man was driving faster than the speed limit and did not have a turn signal stuck in a continuously blinking position. Officer Brightone said it is unusual for a man of Stanley’s age to be doing either one of these things, which according to Brightone, “naturally raises a person’s suspicions.”
Another caller said she had observed Stanley turn into a parking lot without once stopping his vehicle while only part way into the lot.
Yet another outraged caller declared that Stanley did not pull out in front of him at a slow rate of speed when he had the opportunity.
After jailing Stanley, Officer Brightone explained that he is required to protect the public’s safety and can’t simply ignore an elderly man driving like a young man. He explained, “It’s far too dangerous for the average driver that has come to expect a normal pattern of elderly driving behavior from a man his age.”
Mr. Stanley, following his release, said he will ride around with his elderly cousin Jeremiah to get a better feel for what is required of him.
End of Rick’s Report
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Psychiatrist Seeks Damages From Google For Blogger Activities
Rick Satire Report NewsGoogle Headquarters
Mountain View, California
Google employees arriving for work yesterday were met with an unusual scene when they encountered Dr. Luke Iagreewithu outside their headquarters building. Approximately 25 other mental health care practitioners and book publishing executives were lined up behind Iagreewithu as they marched in front of the building protesting Googles support of blogging activities.
Signs reading ‘Ban all blogs’ and ‘Restitution by Google Required’ were predominant among the protestors.
Apparently the stink with Google has arisen because it gives bloggers a reliable outlet for their emotions and feelings. According to Iagreewithu, “Blogging started out innocently enough, but now it is completely out of control and our businesses are suffering the dramatic consequences.”
Iagreewithu’s working theory is that for many people, blogging brings out their dark emotional secrets and problems. “This is an area where those of us in the mental health care profession specialize,” said Iagreewithu. “Now these unsteady emotional bloggers have other people in the blogging community commenting on their blogs and offering advice and support. This has always been our province. Even if we had no idea why these people were nuts we could just smile and give then sympathy and support. Now the commenters in their little blogging communities do exactly the same thing!”
According to the National Institute for Accounting the psychiatrists in America have experienced a 77% downturn in professional fees since blogging was introduced. When I asked Dr. Iagreewithu how this could occur when only 3% of the country participates in blogging he said, “It’s perfectly obvious that the blogging community, while small in percentage of the total population, is composed of 77% of the total nut cases. The fact that bloggers are the spooks and nuts in society and have discontinued their mental health care has had awful consequences for me and others.” Dr. Iagreewithu went on to mention he has had to downgrade his country club membership from ‘A’ to ‘B’ status and can therefore no longer use the club's car wash service.
The booksellers, represented by Clarence Myopian, have a similar but slightly different beef with Google. According to Myopian, the sales of self-help books has gone through the basement. Said Myopian, “Many people in the blogging community have read every self help book on the shelf in their futile attempts to acquire normalcy. These self help ‘know-it-alls’ now go around commenting on other blogs with all the advice found in our books. Therefore no one is buying the books any longer.
Both Dr.Iagreewithu and Myopian have vowed to take Google to court for restitution if their support of blogging activities doesn’t end immediately.
Google declined comment saying their spokesperson was busy writing a rant post about her fat lazy husband.
End of Rick's Report
Completed Tag
In completion of a request by my blog buddy Reach. My filled out tag assignment rests below:
6 Weird Things You Did Not Know About Me, But Should, Otherwise Life As You Know It Will Not Continue:
1) I have to speak in public on occasion as part of my job. I hate it. I dread dread dread speaking in public.
2) I have been married to the same lovely lady for 33 years. A testament to her patience, not mine.
3) I was a police officer for 7 years of my life.
4) I am a masters track athlete. That’s USA Track & Field’s designation for athletes over 30. I will compete in the National Indoor Championships in Boston March 24-26.
5) I detest yardwork.
6) I was born in outback West Texas on a cotton farm.
4 Jobs I have Had In My Life:
1) House building (carpentry) in my youth.
2) Bartender
3) Police Officer
4) Architect
4 Movies I Could Watch Repeatedly and Over…...
(none over and over but these are ones I have seen more than once)
1) Falling Down
2) A Few Good Men
3) Million Dollar Baby
4) Cool Hand Luke
4 Places I Have Lived:
1) Lamesa, Texas
2) Lubbock, Texas
3) Norman, Oklahoma
4) Arlington, Texas
4 TV Shows With Which I Like To Numb My Mind:
1) 24
2) ESPN Baseball Tonight
3) Seinfeld
4) Friends
4 Places I have visited In Order To forget About the Real World for a while:
1) Cypress Cove, Kissimmee Florida
2) San Diego
3) NYC
4) Seattle
6 Websites I Visit Daily:
1) http://www.masterstrack.com/
2) http://afishonabicycle.blogspot.com/
3) http://benevolentmagic.blogspot.com/
4) http://stacy68.blogspot.com/
5) http://4reach.blogspot.com/
6) http://mlb.mlb.com/NASApp/mlb/index.jsp (Major League Baseball)
4 Foods I could Get Enormously Fat On, If I Didn’t Stop Myself:
1) Ice Cream
2) Cookies
3) Bourbon
4) Peanut Butter
4 Places I’d Rather Be Than Parked At My Desk:
1) Nudist resort in Florida
2) On a track; running fast
3) In bed with Reese Witherspoon…er….I mean my wife…jus kiddin sweetie ..;)
4) San Diego coastline
6 Weird Things You Did Not Know About Me, But Should, Otherwise Life As You Know It Will Not Continue:
1) I have to speak in public on occasion as part of my job. I hate it. I dread dread dread speaking in public.
2) I have been married to the same lovely lady for 33 years. A testament to her patience, not mine.
3) I was a police officer for 7 years of my life.
4) I am a masters track athlete. That’s USA Track & Field’s designation for athletes over 30. I will compete in the National Indoor Championships in Boston March 24-26.
5) I detest yardwork.
6) I was born in outback West Texas on a cotton farm.
4 Jobs I have Had In My Life:
1) House building (carpentry) in my youth.
2) Bartender
3) Police Officer
4) Architect
4 Movies I Could Watch Repeatedly and Over…...
(none over and over but these are ones I have seen more than once)
1) Falling Down
2) A Few Good Men
3) Million Dollar Baby
4) Cool Hand Luke
4 Places I Have Lived:
1) Lamesa, Texas
2) Lubbock, Texas
3) Norman, Oklahoma
4) Arlington, Texas
4 TV Shows With Which I Like To Numb My Mind:
1) 24
2) ESPN Baseball Tonight
3) Seinfeld
4) Friends
4 Places I have visited In Order To forget About the Real World for a while:
1) Cypress Cove, Kissimmee Florida
2) San Diego
3) NYC
4) Seattle
6 Websites I Visit Daily:
1) http://www.masterstrack.com/
2) http://afishonabicycle.blogspot.com/
3) http://benevolentmagic.blogspot.com/
4) http://stacy68.blogspot.com/
5) http://4reach.blogspot.com/
6) http://mlb.mlb.com/NASApp/mlb/index.jsp (Major League Baseball)
4 Foods I could Get Enormously Fat On, If I Didn’t Stop Myself:
1) Ice Cream
2) Cookies
3) Bourbon
4) Peanut Butter
4 Places I’d Rather Be Than Parked At My Desk:
1) Nudist resort in Florida
2) On a track; running fast
3) In bed with Reese Witherspoon…er….I mean my wife…jus kiddin sweetie ..;)
4) San Diego coastline
Monday, March 13, 2006
Poor Mark
Rick Report NewsLandover, Maryland
Mark Jakins of Landover, Maryland knows he has a small penis. For much of his life, while the situation concerned him, it did not create a threat to his mental well being. Recently however his knowledge of being the owner of a below average size penis has been reinforced by internet web sites.Jakins had noticed that the email spam he received often offered advice on how to create a larger and more virile penis. When he went to the advertised websites to find out about the secrets of a bigger penis, he was confronted with the awful truth. There were many photos of well built handsome men with normal size penises, gleefully displaying them to the less fortunate like himself.
According to Jakins the fact that he has a small penis was not something he had told a lot of people about. However after seeing the normal size penises at ‘www.thesizeshewants.com’ Jakins said “I felt like I needed a sounding board for this unfortunate twist of fate, so I began to reach out to friends and others.”
Jakins found his male friends were indifferent. According to his friend Joe Granlow, “I told Mark, like dude, I’m sorry you got like a small tool, but I don’t want to see it and discuss it dude, you know it just kind of gave me the heebies. I told Mark I was really sorry though.”
“You know, no one wanted to discuss the size of my penis with me, I even tried to talk about it with the girls at work” said Jakins. “I told them in all candor that it was small and I was concerned about it but I just couldn’t get anyone interested in the subject. My inner turmoil continued to grow to the point that not having had sex with a girl in the past 8 years seemed like a real blessing.”
Then the worst thing of all happened when his friend Amber from accounting told him that everyone in the building had been talking about his small penis since he had brought the subject up with so many people. She said a lot of the girls wanted to know if it was really teeny but no one could find a girl that knew.
“I knew right away that if girls were asking if it was really teeny, then size really does matter,” said Jakins.
At this point Jakins has subscribed to several penis enhancement sites but so far is having little success with the techniques. “To my disappointment my initial measurement of 7-3/4 inches erect has not changed in any way. I find all of this just almost too much to handle. It appears I’m doomed to a life of solitary masturbation. I would just be too embarrassed to show myself to a girl. I’m really glad I read my email or I would not have even known to be embarrassed. I have considered becoming a priest but I’m told that they often show their erections to young boys and how humiliating would that be, you know what I mean?”
Making things worse, Jakins says that his bumper sticker campaign has been a disaster. “I thought the slogan ‘Honk if you love small weiners’ might help men with small penises feel like there were others like us, but so far I haven’t sold a single bumper sticker.”
End of Rick's Report
Saturday, March 11, 2006
Mildred Comes Out
Rick Report NewsMarble Falls, Kansas
Mildred was watching reruns of Will & Grace in her one bedroom apartment late on a Sunday evening last year when the idea came to her. She says she had become increasingly aware that she identified strongly with the character Grace and wished more men were gay so they wouldn’t always be pestering her for sex.
Wishing more men were gay made her realize she would need to be gay also if the balance of things in Kansas were going to be kept from turning ‘upsy daisy’.
Mildred next signed up for a consultation with the local Gay Alliance ‘life coach’and was given instruction about how to go back in the past and discover her true feelings. In doing so she remembered the little girl at church in 1926 that wore the red and white striped dress on Easter morning. Mildred says, “I was so attracted to that little dress, I just knew I wanted it for myself.” Her life coach and fellow lesbian Melody Lulling, sitting in on the interview, reminded her that it was actually the little girl she was attracted to. “No,” replied Mildred, “I wanted that damned dress I tell ya.”
Mildred’s relatives have taken the news with difficulty. “It’s not that Grandma is gay", said her grandson Michael Makin, “it’s just that it took her so long to decide this that it makes all of us 15 grandchildren feel a little hoodwinked, I mean nobody at school has a gay grandma, it’s a little embarrassing since she put the ‘Come Out’ sticker on her wheelchair. I really don’t want her to come to this years cake walk at the school, but she always insists on baking a cake and hugging whoever wins it.”
A fellow octogenarian at her apartment complex, Cecil Crotchwell, was crestfallen at the news. According to sources he had already bought Mildred’s valentine card and the card store wouldn’t refund his money. The sources disclosed that Cecil quickly regrouped and declared his intentions for Agnes Morehead, Mildred’s cousin, even if she isn’t as pretty as Mildred. “At least she still likes fellas,” Cecil said. “And besides I already have the card.”
For Mildred’s part she says it is all just fine with her since she hasn’t had sex in 33 years anyway. Besides she said, “I get a helluva lot more attention being gay than I ever got by not being gay.” With that she swung her motorized wheelchair around and headed for the Gay Alliance breakroom, her multi-colored balloon, tied to the wheelchair back, flowed along behind her.
End of Report
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Are you kiddin me?
My buddy Colin tagged me all the way from London yesterday. He is a man with a quite long reach. I think he was not sober however. He's asking a 50's year old Texan USA to tell him what music I might be listening to. Why do I have the feeling I might be the butt of jokes at the pub tonight, eh?Maybe Colin will not be sober again today and therfore not able to look up these I give him....anyhow he wanted seven songs I might pull out of I-Tunes and listen to right by golly now....OK, but with trepidation Mr. Mobile Fish, here ya go...pulled right out of my I-Tunes basket....
'Aint No Love' / David Gray
'Keep it Loose-Keep it Tight' / Amos Lee
'Keep on Pushin' / Calvin Richardson
'Disappearing World' / David Gray
'Meet Me in the Morning' / Drew Emmitt
'Long Way To Go' / Pat Green
'Bridge of St. Mark's' / Jackson Browne (new solo acoustic version)
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Seeking More
I went to a Van Morrison concert Monday evening. Van is nearing his 60's and the crowd was probably a little more experienced than the average concert crowd.I noticed also that the musicians in the band edged toward the experienced side of life as well.
What caught my imagination was that the music itself was so sharp and so good. It made me keenly aware of the value of experience and the remarkable art that results from working ones craft into a form that others can so deeply appreciate.
Prior to the concert I had been reading a little about Morrison’s indifference to his audience and his somewhat negative reputation for giving uneven concert performances. Wrapped inside an interview with Morrison was a give and take about audiences not wanting to hear the new and inventive music, preferring instead to hear the old chestnuts from the 70's. Morrison gets restless with audiences because he feels he cannot take them along on this search.
This struck me as a clear disconnect between artist and non-artist. Taking the thought a little farther it would appear the artist is always restless and seeking, never completely content with where he stands. The art consumer, in this case Morrison’s audiences, are perfectly content to experience the art without searching additionally because the beauty of the art is completely whole for them.
Shift gears now to another night this week.
On Wednesday evening I was doing my track workout at the local university track. I was also sharing the track with a group of professional track athletes that train regularly there. These are the 20 to 25 year old physical wonders that are paid handsomely to race the European circuit and are among the top track athletes in the world. When I finished my workout a group of these sprinters were working on their block starts. That is the process where they crouch in the starting blocks awaiting the starter pistol. When the gun sounds they move as quickly down the track as possible.
I watched in awe as these amazing athletes worked. The speed and strength in which they left the blocks and buzzed the track was reminiscent of Morrison’s music on Monday evening. It was art in motion. The finest in the world doing what precious few others can do.
When they returned back up the track the coach would tell each of the four what was not exactly perfect with each of their starts. The concept expressed by Morrison about his music was being played out in front of me yet again. Here were the very best in the world engaged in a restless pursuit of a place higher than even the highest of spots.
This saddened me for a bit. The inability to be satisfied with your effort, always seeking, left me wondering when enough is indeed enough.
As I drove home I continued to turn it over in my mind. Then as will often happen I bumped up against the truth unexpectedly. The world of elite performers was doing as it must.
You cannot be elite in your field if you ever stop seeking. It is the search for more that creates our progress and for those precious few among us, their ‘elitism’. Anything else is much like a siesta when there is work to be done. The artist can be satisfied I think, but he or she cannot stop and sit. The very good lies behind us, the best of what we can be remains in front of us.
The artist or performer must always be chasing the elusive in order to wear the title 'artist' with dignity.
We are all artists at something. I believe this about us all.
So my friends, search on for the higher place to take your art and do it with confidence, dignity and zeal. Most of us will love you for being right where you are, but you will always know better, will you not?
Monday, March 06, 2006
Precious Days
Standing at the door of tomorrow, blackness beyond the opening
What I have known and still know is present
Ruthless truth speaking mirrors push me toward the door
Photographs of youthfulness pull me back
Precious days are slipping away
Hoping on some days to step through the door
Into the blackness broken by tiny glimmering stars
Another day walking backward in fear
Half hoping I’ll never know what’s beyond the door; I’m too alive and too strong
That’s what I believed only yesterday
Still the door beckons and the unknown beyond the dark steals my thoughts
Precious days are slipping away
Closer now to the door I go out
Than the door I came in
Knowing the best lies behind
Then thinking perhaps its in front
Beyond the door and into the dark; the promise awaits
Precious days are slipping away
Wish on a star beyond the door
Drop a tear for what has passed
Know the circle moves on never closed
Life doesn’t wait to become; death surprises most
Grandchildren play at my feet that were once swift
Precious time is slipping away
Sand slips through the hole of the hour glass
Like water slips through the hand
Leaving the moisture of memory
And puddles of tears at our feet
Mirror please lie to me tomorrow
Let the door stay closed; and the sand be stilled
Precious time is slipping away
Saturday, March 04, 2006
Letter of Law v Spirit of Law
I had a conversation with a campus police officer last week that left me thinking about the concept of “letter of the law” versus “spirit of the law. “
This concept often confuses police officers. I feel at liberty to say this since I was a police officer for several years and observed this confusion first hand. I’m going to spend a few words here on this concept because I believe it has application to our everyday lives.
Let me explain what happened last week to illustrate the concept. I was doing a track workout with a fellow athlete and our coach at a local university. The coach is an Olympic level athlete that attended this particular university and is in the schools athletic Hall of Fame, meaning he is well known around the campus. The coach brought his 6 year old son with him. The coach and son also brought their 2 month old beagle puppy to the workout.
Let me set the physical scene for you. Picture a university athletic track, completely enclosed by 6 foot chain link fence and gates. All the gates are closed. There are 3 adults, 1 child and 1 puppy inside the fenced area. The young boy is playing with a baseball and baseball glove while dad works with my friend and me. The puppy, weighing about 5 pounds and approximately 12 inches long is running about and rolling in the grass, sometimes chasing after the little boy. By the way, it’s a remarkably beautiful sunny afternoon. There is no one else present.
Now enters our young campus police officer. He waved me over to the fence and asked “Who does the dog belong to?” I told him it belonged to the little boy. He said “Tell the boy’s father that the dog has to be on a leash.” I asked him “Is that really necessary?” He said “Yes it’s necessary, because it’s the law on the campus.”
Having a bit of experience in law enforcement (which I did not tell this young officer) I decided to debate him on the fine points of “spirit of law” versus “letter of the law.” To my dismay it quickly became apparent that this vital concept was missing from his tool pouch. I won’t bore you with the details of the conversation.
The leash law he was referencing is in place to protect the public from a dog that is unruly, poorly behaved and so forth. The university is well within reason to not want dogs jumping on people, biting people, turning over garbage cans, running into traffic and I could continue on of course about the obvious need for the leash law. This law is a good law as written. To enforce it on a puppy inside a fence with no public present might be asking for a challenge. This puppy was not large enough to knock anyone down, not large enough to knock over anything, completely controlled by the fence that was even keeping the officer out, and to top it all off there was not a soul inside the fence except for 4 individuals that had no quarrel with the dog.
Therefore the “spirit of the law” was not being violated in any manner. The officer had no room for this concept in his mind it appeared to me. He understood only the “letter of the law.” For the record we said OK, and then simply disobeyed his instruction.
This left me thinking about how this concept is involved in our everyday lives. There is an instance in my life, which I offer as an example.
My track workouts are extremely demanding. Often I disobey the messages from my body and force my way through the workout; then the following day I am too tired for a productive workout and the spiral continues until I become injured or simply have to skip an entire day or two of workouts.
However, the “spirit of the training” is that I will train myself to compete and be in the best racing shape I can reach during race season, uninjured and certainly not exhausted. The “letter of the training” is what is written on the workout sheet, no matter how I might actually feel. By pursuing the “letter of the training” I dismiss the common sense of “the spirit of the training.” In this way my efforts are sabotaged by my own dogged and unyielding enforcement of the letter of the training.
We all do this don’t we? Can you identify your “spirit of life” versus “letter of life “confusions?
Now I Get It.......maybe
This concept often confuses police officers. I feel at liberty to say this since I was a police officer for several years and observed this confusion first hand. I’m going to spend a few words here on this concept because I believe it has application to our everyday lives.
Let me explain what happened last week to illustrate the concept. I was doing a track workout with a fellow athlete and our coach at a local university. The coach is an Olympic level athlete that attended this particular university and is in the schools athletic Hall of Fame, meaning he is well known around the campus. The coach brought his 6 year old son with him. The coach and son also brought their 2 month old beagle puppy to the workout.
Let me set the physical scene for you. Picture a university athletic track, completely enclosed by 6 foot chain link fence and gates. All the gates are closed. There are 3 adults, 1 child and 1 puppy inside the fenced area. The young boy is playing with a baseball and baseball glove while dad works with my friend and me. The puppy, weighing about 5 pounds and approximately 12 inches long is running about and rolling in the grass, sometimes chasing after the little boy. By the way, it’s a remarkably beautiful sunny afternoon. There is no one else present.
Now enters our young campus police officer. He waved me over to the fence and asked “Who does the dog belong to?” I told him it belonged to the little boy. He said “Tell the boy’s father that the dog has to be on a leash.” I asked him “Is that really necessary?” He said “Yes it’s necessary, because it’s the law on the campus.”
Having a bit of experience in law enforcement (which I did not tell this young officer) I decided to debate him on the fine points of “spirit of law” versus “letter of the law.” To my dismay it quickly became apparent that this vital concept was missing from his tool pouch. I won’t bore you with the details of the conversation.
The leash law he was referencing is in place to protect the public from a dog that is unruly, poorly behaved and so forth. The university is well within reason to not want dogs jumping on people, biting people, turning over garbage cans, running into traffic and I could continue on of course about the obvious need for the leash law. This law is a good law as written. To enforce it on a puppy inside a fence with no public present might be asking for a challenge. This puppy was not large enough to knock anyone down, not large enough to knock over anything, completely controlled by the fence that was even keeping the officer out, and to top it all off there was not a soul inside the fence except for 4 individuals that had no quarrel with the dog.
Therefore the “spirit of the law” was not being violated in any manner. The officer had no room for this concept in his mind it appeared to me. He understood only the “letter of the law.” For the record we said OK, and then simply disobeyed his instruction.
This left me thinking about how this concept is involved in our everyday lives. There is an instance in my life, which I offer as an example.
My track workouts are extremely demanding. Often I disobey the messages from my body and force my way through the workout; then the following day I am too tired for a productive workout and the spiral continues until I become injured or simply have to skip an entire day or two of workouts.
However, the “spirit of the training” is that I will train myself to compete and be in the best racing shape I can reach during race season, uninjured and certainly not exhausted. The “letter of the training” is what is written on the workout sheet, no matter how I might actually feel. By pursuing the “letter of the training” I dismiss the common sense of “the spirit of the training.” In this way my efforts are sabotaged by my own dogged and unyielding enforcement of the letter of the training.
We all do this don’t we? Can you identify your “spirit of life” versus “letter of life “confusions?
Now I Get It.......maybe
Friday, March 03, 2006
Is It Just Me?
Is it just me, or does it look like George put a 'whoopeee cushion' in President Musharraf's chair?
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Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Naked and Wise John
Time for a humorous yet somewhat sad cop story. This really happened one midnight shift about ten years ago.The night was hot like any Texas summer evening. I was working the midnight shift on a Friday evening, the 95 degree night dragging on endlessly, the heat abating little through the evening. I had stopped at a convenience store for a soft drink. Contrary to legend there really is an element of calm on the streets at 3am, even in urban areas where I worked. I was trying to keep sleep at bay.
As I left the store to get into my unit a female sped into the parking lot waving her arms trying to flag me down. You can never be sure when you see this exactly what might be next. It can be as serious as someone shooting at her or as innocuous as her wanting directions somewhere. She stopped her vehicle, and started talking in the rapid style speech that naturally causes a cop to tell people “Calm down a little and go slower.”
She did slow down a little, telling me, ”There is man at the corner of the intersection, back about a mile, not wearing any of his clothes.” I asked her if she had actually seen him completely naked. She said “Oh yes, he has everything off, I sat through 2 lights to make sure that was really what I was seeing!” Realizing what she had just said she turned crimson red, rolled up her window, wished me luck and took off. I laughed.
I radioed dispatch what she had reported and made my way to the intersection she described.
Sure enough, sitting at the corner with only a brown paper bag was a white male. He was sitting at the corner on this hot Texas night in the clothes God provided at his birth.
There was very little traffic at the intersection given the hour so I turned on my overhead red and blue lights to make my way across the intersection against the traffic signal.
This set up a fright/flight response in my ‘bad boy’. He stood up and began hauling his exposed white buns up the hill behind him, trying to sprint but succeeding only in collecting stickers in his feet. (That’s what we call grass burrs in Texas) He began to hop around, one foot to another, while running and looking back in panic at the approaching police vehicle.
I picked up my amplified microphone for the simple command “Stop running, stop now”.
He did. Just like that he stopped hopping and running and came guiltily wandering back down the hill. I always wondered why folks run if they are only going to stop when you tell them to. It actually happens pretty often. I mean if you’re going to run at least make me chase you; otherwise you’re just wasting energy.
When he reached me at the corner, it went something like this:
(Bear in mind that when you handle someone where you are unsure about their mental status that the cop language can sound a little odd)
Me: Good evening sir. I turned on my lights and wanted to talk with you because I noticed you were not wearing your clothes.
Unidentified male: Sorry, cop car lights scare me even if I haven’t done anything wrong.
Me: Are those your clothes in the paper bag?
Unidentified male: Yes sir.
Me: Before we talk why don’t you put your clothes on.
Unidentified male: Yes sir. (He put on a pair of dirty brown jeans from the bag)
Me: What’s your name sir?
Unidentified male: John.
Me: Do you have your identification in the bag?
John: No sir, but I just told you my name is John.
Me: I know John, but I have to call your name into my helpers to find out about you. What’s your last name?
John: Millkens
(I did some communication with the dispatcher at that point regarding a white male named John Millkens, 6 foot, white, brown hair, tattoo of a dagger with a coiled snake on his left upper arm, approximately 30 years old.)
Me: OK John, so whats up with not wearing your clothes tonight?
John: It’s really hot and I needed a ride.
Me: John I know its hot dude. I’m sweating too, but the thing is, you can’t just take off your clothes because you’re hot. Where are you trying to go anyway?
John: Arlington. (Arlington is a neighboring community)
Me: OK. Do you actually live in Arlington?
John: I used to, but I had to go to the hospital and when I went back home someone else lived there. Another time I went back to see if they were still there or if they would let me stay there since I used to live there before them and then they said I had to go back to the hospital again.
Me: John, where did you begin your trip tonight?
John: From the hospital.
Me: John, were you leaving Brookhaven Hospital tonight? (County administered mental evaluation hospital)
John: Yes sir, I was staying at Brookhaven Hospital, but they told me to go home.
Me: So now you’re just trying to get back to your old house?
John: That’s where I’m going, yes sir, I am.
(I gave dispatch the low down in code speak and asked them to try and locate a relative by calling the hospital)
Me: John are you angry with anyone tonight?
John: No sir, I like everybody pretty much. But sometimes it makes me sad when people aren’t nice to me.
Me: Was someone not nice to you tonight John?
John: See all that stuff at the edge of the street there? (He was pointing at the gutter where a good bit of litter had accumulated.) People threw that stuff at me tonight from their cars. I just wanted a ride, but they said really mean things to me and threw things at me. Then they started yelling at me to put my clothes on and called me a ‘retardo’.
Me: Did they hit you with any of those things?
John: Yes sir, one of those batteries hit me under my eye. (He did have a red mark below the eye) One man got out of his car and chased me with a baseball bat, but I ran up the hill and he stopped chasing me, but he threw my clothes out of the bag and into the road before he left.
(Dispatch radioed that John’s older sister had been called and was on her way to our location to get John)
John: Did they say my sister Maggie is coming?
Me: Yes, is Maggie your sister?
John: Yes sir, but sometimes she gets mad at me. She will be mad tonight but I will tell her I’m sorry.
Me: John why do you think people threw things at you tonight? (I hoped to make a point about his not wearing his clothes)
John: Because they don’t know what’s important.
Me: What do you mean John?
John: A man without his clothes isn’t hurting anyone. But batteries do hurt when they hit you in the face. It’s important to be nice and not throw things at other people.
(In a scary instant John was making sense to me)
Me: John I have to go to another call now and I have to go right away, but your sister is coming right here to get you. Promise you will keep your clothes on and stay right here?
John: Why do you have to leave?
Me: My helpers just told me a man is arguing with his wife inside their house John and I have to go help her now.
John: OK
Me: John, I’m just curious, how was taking off your clothes going to help get a ride?
John: (John looked at me as though I were a complete moron) “Chicks man”, he said. “The chicks at the hospital dug it when I didn’t wear clothes. If I don’t wear my clothes the chicks will pick me up.”
Me: John take care of yourself, I have to go now. Wait here for Maggie.
I left that scene wondering who was the saner between John and his aggressors. After some thoughtfulness I decided John was far saner to not want to wear his clothes on a 95 degree night than people that threw batteries in his face or wanted to beat him with a baseball bat. He appeared to have a clearer understanding of right and wrong.
True story.
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