Senior Thinking

In a crisis, do the math

2005-09-01T11:29:00.000-07:00

Ok I am sick of the federal response, or lack there of. This situation will be far worse after Congress and the White House finish their BBQ’s next week. 5,000 will die waiting for help just in the next 5 days.

Here is the base math. From this, one must do some math to determine the need. Just say in a disaster area, one needs an army that supports a ratio of 1 per 10. This is not news. So we need 150k in personnel in the area NOW. Not a week from now. NOW. That they are not there now helps explain the chaos.

Distressed people are probably around 1.5 MILLION. So the 25k national guard, plus 25 k private resources are about 100k short.

Yeah, watch the news to confirm, it is that bad.

This is now Thursday. This was known Monday and virtually nothing EXCEPT MAYBE additional National Guard resource have been moved into place.

The response, the recognition of what needs to be done is so sad, so pathetic, so tragic.

Base Math

Dead in LA , between 20,000 to 50,000. Ignore official reports. LSU has a standing study that says that this type of event kills 20% of non-evacuees. The current estimate is 120,000 evacuees in just New Orleans stayed behind, so 25k dead there. The rest of the Southeastern LA area has another 10k at least.

Dead in Miss and Ala, probably 2k, maybe 10k. The Mobile area is able to recover in 6 to 8 weeks, southern Miss will need until Halloween to get basic power to safe structures. New structures anywhere need 9 months. Homeless is 200k in this area, powerless is 500k for a month

How do I know that. Oakland and San Diego in the last few years lost 2500 homes each in structures due to fire each. The issue is that we need 6 to months to build and then enough contractors to rebuild. Both Oakland and San Diego were stretched beyond capacity to do that much new build, despite change in permit laws, new processes and so on. All that without flooding.

This issue is 20 times that and existing contractors cannot rebuild in less than a year, probably 2. No way contractors can do the rebuild, there are not enough in a year.

REBUILD is 2 YEARS

In the three states, 50 to 70k dead. Come on, this is the worst natural disaster to ever hit the US. Denial of that delays help to those that are in dire need.

This is bigger than Andrew, Camille and Galveston plus San Fran in 1906 COMBINED.

1 million homeless. 1 to 1.5 million jobless. 5 days later, 2 million without power and 1 million will be without power for a month. That ignores New Orleans and surrounding as they all will be moved out until Thanksgiving at the earliest

Do the math

We need an internet model to solve the issue. Texas has done tremendous service to solve the issue but really the best approach is many, many small places to go. Texas has offered so far 50k people of help. We need to make that 1 million. Many who did leave cannot come back now and are out of cash. We need to house a million new homeless. Those areas must exist for 6 to 9 months, until housing can be rebuilt. I live near Oakland and San Diego. I have seen it. This is so much worse.

Long term. I will just list the issues

Tax relief, bankruptcy relief, emergency money, aid and food, emergency law enforcement, new banking laws, new social security laws, long tern supply trains.

We need 2 million meals every day across the area. 5 million pints of water every day are needed. Currently deployed food and water will not feed people to Monday.

It is a math problem. The country needs to feed 1m every day for 60 days. The response is less than a week of supply.

The pictures are horrific. It will only get worse until the ramp up to the math gets solved.
Claiming we ordered and deployed enough to serve 20k of need is a joke. We have 1 million of need today, right now.

It is sad the administration is proud of what they have done. In the next 10 days, while they defend the structure, between 2 and 5 thousand people will die. No shelter, no meds, no contact, no food.

This requires 24-7 response. Poor George needs to suspend his fund raisers for a while. By the way, he only came back Wednesday because he would miss a huge fundraiser dinner Tuesday night in San Diego. So much for serving the needs of his people. Too bad all these people are dying while he dines on plastic chicken for 2008 and 2006 elections.

We need a leader NOW. We need to take everything we are doing and triple it. Hello George, step in and do endless conference calls to resolve the crisis. Or pass the buck to Chertoff, give him the Medal of Freedom later, fire him after and claim blamelessness. That worked for the head of the CIA in your last crisis.

Kind of like Iraq except now real, actual Americans die because of the process you love so much.

Congress should be in session by Friday AM. It seems maybe they will react. But we will use the existing plan, NOT DO THE MATH and thousands of people will die and needlessly suffer.

That may be more saddening than the event itself.

We have:
20k Army, National Guard, law enforcement somewhere in the area
5 million meals somewhere in the area
Ability to evacuate 3,000 people a day
Water to support 50,000 people a day
Housing in the area to support 25 thousand people, not everyone can go to Texas.

We need

100 thousand combined Army, Air Force, Navy, National Guard and local law enforcement. Suspend the normal laws, this is a crisis.

2 million meals a DAY in the area, distributed to established staging areas

Ability to evacuate 15 thousand people a day. We have 100,000 people in LA alone that have no way to get out and we are using school buses. Federalize some airplanes, use the HUGE airlift capacity at Travis in Cal and Wright-Patterson in Ohio. Did we not put those resources in place to be available just in times like now?

Clean water is the huge need right now. We will eventually plug the dikes and canals. We have 200 thousand people that need daily water in the area. Mobilize resources to move that much resource

Housing is huge long term but really the big need to now for shelter. 300 thousand people will run out of money by October 31st to pay hotel bills. That is probably low, like to be close to 1 million. Do you have enough cash and credit to live outside your house for 60 days at a hotel or family member?

The pieces needed are understood. The problem is the math. We need to increase what is required by somewhere a factor or 3 to 20.

The current response is DONATE TO THE RED CROSS. From Commander George the second himself, at least three times.

Are we serious here? He seems to be. What kind of leadership is that?

We knew all this Monday or Tuesday. Defending the original plan only kills and bankrupts people.

It is time to do the math and IMMEDIATELY scale the issue.

Anything less is just tragic as we know better, can do better but refuse to face the scope.

Do more than that, scream at your elected representatives and demand immediate Federal help on the scale needed.

The local response cannot solve the need. Sadly, it seems they can do the math on what they need. It is the Federal Government that has the resources needed and they seem to want to imitate Ostriches at the National Zoo.

So what is the Fourth of July?

2005-07-02T23:33:00.000-07:00

Mr. B is fine, so is everyone else.

My posts have really sucked lately, my head is somewhere else. I am leaving now for a week vacation, to Boy Scout camp, to renew myself, to set the compass properly.

I promise some decent posts from that or at least that is my goal.

But I sit here, on the eve of the fourth of July and I think about how lucky I am. How much I have depended on the sacrifices of my ancestors and people I do not even pretend to know.

Soldiers, martyrs, heroes, patriots, civil rights advocates. People who in small ways and in large ways, chose to make a difference.

Is that not one of the legacies of our country?

So, my next post will be written by you. I will combine all your comments into one large post, to be written in a week upon my return.

Here is what you can comment about.

Whose shoulders do you stand on? Who made a difference in your life? Who is it that you only dream to impress or show what you are made of?

Use only people you actually know. No using Martin Luther King or JFK or Abe Lincoln.

For your grandmother is just as vital as any of those people.

I return on my birthday, July the 9th. Let’s see what we can make of the challenge.

What would Buddha do?

2005-06-27T11:27:00.000-07:00

First off, my practice is consuming more of my time, that is a good thing. So I will only post once a week for now.

To catch you up on Mr. B., well he got a nasty foxtail in his eye last week and scratched his eyeball up nicely. He is on meds that require him to leave his pupil almost wide open in his right eye. But his eye has healed and now we have the consequence of the treatment.

One pupil is wide open, so the other has been forced to compensate, it remains almost shut. His ability to see depth is non existent and he can only see close to him in one eye and only therefore can see far in the other.

This causes him to be dis-orinented. As he swings his head, his vision blurs and it makes him uncomfortable. He sleeps less than he did, is cranky and confused.

The US Supreme Cout ruled on some religious issues today. They ruled quite wisely. In one case, in Tennessee, they ruled that a Ten Commandments display, in a field of other secular objects was improper.

In the Texas case, (how weird is that), they ruled that the Commandments in a field of other religious displays was ok.

Right wing Christians find this unheard of. Some extreme liberals find it confusing. How can we allow In God We Trust on the money, yet allow religion in any way.

The answer is simple. The Constitution allows religion, just not the active practice of one form to influence the government. We are not a Christian nation, but a religious nation of which Christianity is just one form

To all those that disagree, most founding fathers were Deists, go look up their principles.

More to the point, if we believe in diversity, if America is the global melting pot, must all that meld here be Christian?

Lastly, I must speak out on the insurgency. It seems we want Syria to close their borders. That they alone promote the conflict.

Yet, we in the US have essentially open borders and we seem to really suck at managing them.

And even stranger, 55% of insurgents come from Saudi Arabia, not Syria, Syria and what goes through there accounts for less than 20%.

But is there any conversation about closing the Saudi-Iraqi border? Why no.

Because just like Mr. B., we have lost our ability to see in stereo, that we can see both sides of a coin.

That just because most of us are Christian does not mean that we all are or that we all should be. Or that our government should be Christian as well.

Or that our issues in Iraq could be caused by an ally, the one with the longest, might as well most unguarded border. So we send the focus somewhere else, rather than look at the whole picture.

I find it humorous that Mr. B injured his right eye and his left eye must be squeezed almost shut to balance the damage. It means his right eye cannot see what is right in front of him and the vet cautioned me about his inability to judge his environment properly and that he puts himself in danger.

Our whole nation is split in half and each half sees the other side this way. Neither side is correct, to see a whole picture requires both eyes to work. That it is the other side whose eye on the world is stuck wide open and cannot see the danger right in front of them is a dangerous position and surely invites conflict and confusion.

I don’t know what the solution is. My vet said that Mr. B’s eye will only heal in time. I guess that is the same for us.

I hope we just see we have a problem and agree to do more in balance. For what would Buddha do is just a valid a mantra as would Jesus do. Is that not what the strength of diversity all about?

Lucky young Mr. Hawkins

2005-06-21T15:04:00.000-07:00

That young Utah scout was found alive today. He was damn lucky. Most folks HAVE NO IDEA WHAT TO DO IN AN EMERGENCY.

Let me help. I have 20 years in Scouting and teach survival skills, both basic and high country. They apply to being lost on a hike to what happens after a tornado, hurricane or earthquake.

First, check for injuries.

Common ones like broken bones etc are easy but watch to see if you balance is off or anything else unusual. You may have internal injuries and not be aware, sleepiness out of hand or intestinal discomfort need immediate medical attention.

Second find shelter. Exposure is deadly. You may be in shock and not know. Look at the pupils and see if they react. If not, keep very warm.

Third is FRESH water. If not sure, boil it for 5 minutes and let cool. You can go 30 days without food but 10 days or so without water.

Clean lavatory area, make sure it is downhill from you. Fecal contamination can kill in 72 hours. If not, you will feel just awful. Urine is relatively safe but do that also downhill from you.

NOW plan what to do. IF you can, stay put, searchers only search an area once. You can easily get lost and wander back to an area searched and never be found in time.

If you must travel, go downhill. Find a stream if you can, they always flow downhill. Civilization is usually downhill. Plus you will be close to fresh water and the warmest temps in the area. But be very careful on getting wet, that leads to exposure.

That is it. I have watched some of the coverage on the rescue of the young scout today and I just had to fire off an email to MSNBC. Their coverage was off base, inaccurate and easily correctable.

By the way, it is highly unlikely this 11 year old knew what to do. He wasn’t in Boy Scouts it seems, so he would have never been shown the skills I just mentioned.

He was just lucky. And that area is not remote, I’ve been in that area, it is combed with trails and campsites.

From: mega801@comcast.net [Add to Address Book] [View Source]

To: connected@msnbc.com
Subject: Lucky Mr. Hawkins
Date: Tue, 21 Jun 2005 21:44:43 +0000

I am a 13 scout leader as well as a former scout. Young Mr. Hawkins made several fundemental errors as well as some clarity is required on some of your stated issues like entry requirements and the remoteness of the area..

He was eligible at age 11 to be a Boy Scout. In fact, he could have been one at age 10 and a half, under certain conditions. Why was he not one by the time he was going to a Boy Scout camp in June, I cannot say. The Great Salt Lake Council is better positioned to answer that. But he was old enough to be a Boy Scout, not a Webelos or a Cub Scout.

It is also fair to say that a brand new scout or a Cub Scout would not have anywhere near the survival skills that a First Class Scout would have. Only because they are not officially taught them at that stage in their progress.

He broke the buddy system. He wandered away from known encampments, showing he was not well oriented with the camp area.

He made two other judgments that complicated things. He wandered away and kept going rather than stay put. Many people are never found as they wander in circles, entering areas already searched. Hopefully that was not the case here.

It seems instead that the young man wandered straight up and over a ridge. This is also bad judgment.

Civilization is usually found downhill. Find a stream edge and follow it down to the source. It can become a source of fresh water ( lake water is not nearly as safe to drink usually as stream water) as well as a trail.

Buddy system, know your surroundings, stay on a trail, head downhill, if you find a stream, do not cross it but use it as fresh water. Simple rules.

No disrespect to the young man, he was more lucky than good this time.

By the way, that area of Utah is crawling with trails, 4 wheeling, hiking and camping. While in a forest, it is a well camped forest area, ESPECIALLY in the lake area he was found in. He was only a few miles from a decent highway that connects to Wyoming.

It is apparent to me that he had not been very well trained in Scout skills. I will use this example as a refresher to my own troop.

We all can get lost and started making bad decisions, even if we knew better.

Thank goodness he was found safe.

Mike North Sr.
Troop 801
Hayward Ca

Buy the premise

2005-06-10T10:19:00.000-07:00

My brother’s favorite phrase is:

Buy the premise, buy the punchline.

The more I think about that, the more I think that is true.

I was forced to blog about it when the other day while watching Newt Gingrich on Fox (yeah, I watch Fox, know your enemy).

He was proclaiming how he and Hillary had developed this bill that would improve record keeping therefore saving 100,000 lives a year. It ticked me off.

Premise number 1, medicine saves lives, as do fireman, policeman and so on. No they don’t, occasionally, they extend lives. They defer one form of death until another pops up. As Jim Morrison said, no one gets out of here alive.

I think the conversation needs to be on quality of life, not just how long you live.

Premise number 2, Ethics. We should do this or that. My grandfather taught me this. Mankind cannot do should before can.

We try everything. No matter how bad, no matter the potential consequence. We knew nuclear weapons were bad, we dropped two anyway.

Ethics comes from experience, direct experience. If you haven’t done it, haven’t experienced it, do tell people they shouldn’t, because they will.

Premise number 3, progress can be stopped. I am making this political but it doesn’t have to be. On every issue, there are people that want fast progress, fast progression and those that want slow progression.

Those that want slow progression, if they add value by tempering the issue by stating the issues that arise during the progress, are ok with me. If they turn and say progression is bad or should never happen, well the road of history is littered with bodies of people who did that, even if they are remembered at all.

History is favored by progress. Sorry, but liberalism works. Jesse Helms now looks like a fool. Can you find anyone left who is pro-slavery or against a woman’s’ right to vote? Segregation still ok?

The new progressive issues of the day, abortion, gay rights and marriage, smoking, self-determination, even prisoner rights and sentencing laws will be dealt with. The only issue is how long they take.

The angst some of us feel now on these issues is the same angst our ancestors felt on previous issues. It took courage to adopt progressive ideas and turn them into ideals. Martin Luther King is dead from his personal courage. But it is easier that that. Those that supported progress in the past eventually saw their positions upheld. The same will be required of us. To turn away is to invoke cowardice and support denial.

If you want to temper progress, I will listen. If you want to deny it, stand aside, the tide of humanity will eventually wash you out to sea.

Last premise, evil can be stopped or contained. Life is a duality, we all have good and bad. The nature of civilization is that bad people emerge from time to time. There is no end to the war on terror. It is convenient to call it that, the war on terror but the war on terror therefore goes back, what 1000 years to the invasion of England by Rome, or to the Huns in Europe or maybe to the Vikings descent into France or to Christian invasion of the holy land during the crusades.

Life creates bad guys. This really isn’t a war, it is using the name of war, the concept of war to attack bad guys. And not surprisingly, it isn’t working. Some history and facts may help

War means state against state. Diplomacy sucked and away we go. Vietnam was a kind of a war. Ever since then, any military action we have taken is really to topple regimes we do not like. Kuwait was really a disaster as all we did was force Saddam to retreat. Now, that was our mandate but a war, no.

Going after the Serbs was to topple them, not take over the country. Panama was about doing what?

No, so sadly, we have allowed our moral fiber to become such that we use our limited military options to aggressively topple dictators we hate. We used to be subtle, now we do it in the open, whether we have the permission of the UN or not.

In WWII we were losing more soldiers in a month, sometimes in a week than we lost in this whole Iraqi overthrow. Imagine 2 million US soldiers killed for the sanctity of Iraq.
Bad guys exist but going and declaring it a war is laughable in the long run.

It may actually work but I doubt it in the next 5 years. Forcing self determination has never worked in history. They will have to be left alone to grow it themselves. They will have a civil war on more evident terms that exist today.

And then, we will deal with the next bad guy. We have been doing this since 6,000 BC.

So what premise do you not buy off on?

The man and the Moon

2005-05-28T09:00:00.000-07:00

Thanks to all that wrote. I am fine, just REALLY busy. It should slow down for next week, after that, who knows.

I have always loved the moon. It really got going when my dad bought me a 50x telescope. Now this bad boy had one lens, 2 power settings. No drive motor, no tracking device. The lens really sucked for 50 power, so it was only really good for one thing, looking at the moon.

The first big day err night, was watching a lunar eclipse. It happened in 1967, I think, and it was SO COOL seeing the shadow creep across the face of the moon. Lots of neighbors came over to look through. I was the only one in the neighborhood who had a telescope (hey, this is 1967, people). The moon was orange that night and you could really see it in the telescope.

I was all of 10 but I was the man that night.

In 1968, Apollo 8 went behind the moon on Christmas Eve, came back around and showed that unbelievable scene of the Earth rising. I was out in the backyard that night looking at the moon, hoping MAYBE I could see a glint off their ship. I learned later that it would have taken the telescope at Mt. Wilson, the largest in the world at that time, to see them but I was out there.

I heard the astronauts speaking on TV and came in. They were reading from the book of Genesis. It was just a stunning moment. The Earth was so BLUE, with white puffy clouds and they were describing the start of the universe. I’ll never forget that. We all cried after they signed off and I went back outside to see if I could see them, like they had looked at us. No luck.

About a year later I read that the nursery rhyme about Jack and Jill was about the shape of the dark spaces on the moon. Out comes the telescope and damned if they weren’t right. The shape on the left, Jack, is better defined than Jill, so that is why she carries a pail of water, to account for the shapes.

Damn I thought, most nursery rhymes are myths to explain real things. Joseph Campbell wrote about that and became my hero when I went to college and I found his works. But one November night, I SAW Jack and Jill and just smiled. I discovered the power of wisdom that night.

Later, Carl Sagan came to prominence. He helped us understand how large the universe really is. How many stars there really are. I took some astronomy classes in college to learn more. They were all about math. I would have taught the about everything but the math. If they really love it, let them learn about the speed of the Doppler red shift as a Junior, not as a Freshman. Hubble and his constant could wait.

Hand a Freshman a telescope, a decent one and let them gaze back in time. Do enough of that, seeing Andromeda, the Pleiades and so on and that would hook them. Or study crater shadows on the moon, like I did. If you look at a crater enough times, you detect changes in shadow size. That tells you, with some simple math, how high a crater wall is. You feel proud and then, you picture that crater in your mind and the moon becomes real to you. Damn, a crater wall 3,000 feet high, as high as that mountain near my house, all around me. Living in that crater would be wild.

So I was reading a NASA brief on return to flight for the Shuttle. It said, in a side note that the shuttle program will end in almost exactly five years and then we change and will go back to the moon. That is right, no more shuttle launches after 2010.

Instead, and god help me for saying this, thanks to George Bush, we return to a main feature of our species, exploring space. Shuttles were fun and we learned a few things but they did not challenge us. The moon and the next target will.

With any luck, by 2012, we will be back on the moon. I am sure Richard Branson and his 3 minute flights in zero G will also be available then. Virgin Space flights, what a loser. He is not bold, he cannibalizes the work of great men, Chris Kraft, Gene Kranz and the astronauts, all of them. Branson has no vision, only gall.

After the moon, at some vague point in the future, we will go to Mars. I have been to the telescope that first studied Mars, in Flagstaff AZ, home to the eccentric Percival Lowell. They eventually named a planet, Pluto after this guy. But he was convinced Mars had life. The term he used was Canali. It was Italian and meant canals. And that intelligent beings built them. We now know that he was way off but the canals mean water and probably life at some point. We will go there by 2040 at the latest, too late for me.

So I go back to the moon. There are trillions of moons in our universe. There must be billions of beings looking at their own moon right now. They are so far from us, we will never meet.

They must know we probably exist just like we know, somewhere out there, they exist, in their own fashion. So a leap of faith is involved.

You must go from Jack and Jill to Neil Armstrong to going to Mars to understanding we cannot be alone, just apart.

That all starts at the Moon, our closest neighbor. Of course, we have no idea how to get there, we threw all the plans away. Honest. So we are at start over.

But we will go and we will get there. Maybe by then, I will own a CCD telescope, where I can see them as they get there. So I can live my dream.

To take my Jill up the hill, to fetch a pail of water.

And the view from up here is

2005-05-16T11:55:00.000-07:00

I have a heart condition. It means I can no longer do strenuous hikes. That sucks because I used to like them. The view from the top of a mountain is wonderful. I have been on many, including the tallest in the lower 48, Mt. Whitney.

But those days are gone now. I was sad for awhile but no longer. I didn’t climb them for exercise. Sort of like the Bill Cosby line I love “I don’t understand cross country running, going three miles in the heat just to throw up at the end.”

It is the “peak experience” that I crave. Not the rush of reaching the top. And don’t kid yourself, there is quite the rush there.

It isn’t any longer for me about conquering yourself, driving yourself to the top of something. I’ve done that plenty, I get that one.

The tram in Palm Springs therefore was perfect. High enough to see far, 8,516 ft at the station at the top. And there were some real mountains after that, one over 11,000 ft.

I had no interest in that. No I wanted to first rush up the side of a mountain, not is days but in minutes. That tram climbs just about 6,000 in net elevation in less than 7 minutes. That is not in cable feet, that is net gain in altitude. You go from desert floor to alpine forest in about the time it takes to smoke a cigarette. That is wild.

Then you can either go out to look at forests and two higher peaks or face east and see 75 miles or more on a clear day for about 3/4ths of the way around you.

That is what I wanted. I climbed up and asked for a peak experience. What that means is you get very quiet and just look out, out as far as you can see and ask “what does my future bring, where I am headed?” And you wait and your spirit will answer.

Usually it is a quiet answer, sometimes a few sentences. And you say thank you and you leave. I am certain it is a major reason why people climb mountains, I have asked a few and they all do it, they ask questions at the top and wait for the answer to come.

So as I looked out, it was quite hazy and I could not see as far as was possible. I have looked out from mountains and been able to see 200 miles. Today was at best, maybe 40 miles and then the world disappeared.

And the answer came back.

“What did you expect, the future is not certain, plans are only that. You want certain, jump. Death is certain. Life is certain, rebirth is certain, all else is just a guess.

“What? “ I said quietly.

“Life means making choices. Don’t get hung up on plans. While everyone makes them, only fools believe they guarantee anything.”

“You came up here to learn that no matter what you do, you can only see so far ahead and it is all blur after that”. “You have something to do, so go do it and see where it leads. Go make your own trail and share the trail with others.”

“Huh, is there more?” I asked, almost hoping the answer was no.

“while you grow old, you realize that you can only look at but not really see your future, so live and love in the now, not in the whenever or in the maybe. You can go now.”

I walked silently down off the lookout point. The wifey was waiting patiently. “Learn anything dear?” she asked.

“oh, just that I know less and less all the time but in a weird way, that is a good thing. “

“Is that it?” she politely inquired

“Just that it is time to go, if we make a decision, we gain an experience, so let’s go back down the hill now and get some food” I replied softly.

We wandered into the tram car and it gently pulled out and then down the mountain. I looked up silently and said “Thank you.” A gentle “You’re welcome and drive safely”, then a small chuckle came back.

I nearly hit another car about 20 minutes later, on our way to dinner. Explain that one.

So off I go, in fact, off we all go, thanks for sharing the trail with me.

I need some advice

2005-05-09T08:45:00.000-07:00

The wifey and I are going to Palm Springs this Thursday. We have an empty spot in our agenda for Saturday.

So I am asking you all what you think sounds like the most fun. I'll write about it next week.

We can :

A. Go to a movie. It will be like 97 degrees F there while we stay, a mid day movie may be just the ticket

B. Take the tram to the top of Palm Springs Mountain. It will be 70 not 97 up there, the view is incredible, and we can eat and chill out of the heat

C. Take the Nature Walk first thing in the morning. There is a cool park in the area that shows you true desert life and it would be a great day starter on Saturday

D. Just read a book, take naps and chill. Come on ST, 97 degrees is too hot to do anything on a vacation.

E. Just do what you want but we better get a great post out of it.

Vote for your choice. I'll write about it when we get back.

whoz got skillz, yeah

2005-05-06T09:15:00.000-07:00

First off, thank you to all for all the comments recently. It was FUN to write that story and do it in comment order. I must tell you it was not as hard as you think which got me to thinking.

Earlier this week I was watching the MTV and it really hit me that new generations always change names of things to help establish their identity.

Example, Mildred used to be a common name. No one names their kid Mildred anymore and likely never will in 20 years, the world moved on. Mike and Jennifer were common, then Mandy and Kaitlyn.

It all started I think with Kaitlyn. There became this main stream rush to spell it in 100 different ways. Certain communities also started spelling normal words unusually for identity purposes, adding vowels, making F look like Ph (pity the phool who argues with me here sucka) and so on.

This trend is continuing. My current fav word is skillz (please note now that I like it, a new way to spell it will be found).

The people at Microsoft who invented spell-check must be going crazy. They too are being shuffled back into history. A new generation will make their work obsolete. I guess the best news is that we all are part of this blog thing, which is both cutting edge and works for people over 30. Not that there aren’t bloggers under 30, there are PLENTY. But blogging is not a solely under 30 deal.

Anyway, I have skillz. We all hear that but what are they. Now we are at the heart of the matter. What is it that you do the best, what are your SKILLZ?

When I was in 4th grade, it was math. I was asked to memorize the times table up to 10, I did it to 25. Trust me, that is not 60% more, it is 300% more. Math was my friend all thorough school. Algebra and geometry and even trig were easy but then came calculus.

Oh I was good at it but it wasn’t something that just came to me, I had to work it. And there were others around me for whom it did come easy. So I stopped at math and played golf.

I was never really skilled at golf, not VJ skilled. I couldn't hit the ball far enough to ever be pro but I could make shots, especially in pressure situations. I was a valuable asset to a golf team because the tougher it got, the less I folded. I beat people I shouldn’t have and could get into people head’s. That all ended when I was 24 with a pinched nerve in my back off the first tee. I couldn’t play for three years and came back a more wholesome golfer. I help people now, not try to pummel them.

Some years after that a friend Ron Flynt, at a silly cub scout meeting handed me a piece of paper. It was full of words. It was an Indian story about coming of age. I asked Ron what it was and he said I was now appointed to read the whole text in front of 60 people, half of them under 10. It was his son’s crossover speech to Boy Scouts and I was perfect to read it.

What crap Ron, thanks. I had no public speaking in me and this was damned important to Peter. It pissed me off, how DARE he do that, put me in that spot with oh say 20 minutes to prepare. I’ll fix him. I will memorize it and read it aloud. Who wants a dude to read a full page of text off of a sheet, heads down, a perfect immediate sleeping device for the crowd?

OK big guy, Indian story huh, full page huh. I will wow this crowd. I will tell the story from memory, as though I was the chief.

And I did and even today as I look back, I did it pretty well. The kids fell silent. I used my hands and body and the place was silent. I ended it and looked at Peter (the son) and he did his walk. I got a small amount of clapping but I knew I was freaking hooked.

I stopped a crowd of people cold and changed them, emotionally. I have been doing that for some 14 years now. What you read here is a result of that night. I have no pretensions. I have help from somewhere upstairs when I write or I speak. I know I am not alone, that I am moving more than just my energy when I do it. Such was the case with the story earlier in the week.

I will give another speech to 200 people on Saturday and will post what I wrote for it next week. Doing that is my current best skillz. I hope to use it when I consult. It would be nice to use this gift and make money.

But that isn’t the point.

What are your skillz. What is it you do really well, that brings you peace, that just flows from you. I know for some of you that it is writing, others it is serving and so on.

But what is it that you do, just one thing that seems just so natural and brings you joy when you do it? Because we all got skillz, yeah, we all got a gift at something, don't be shy,what is yours?

A Walk in the Forest

2005-05-02T10:52:00.000-07:00

“Mommy, read us a story”

“Now Coco, it is time to go to bed”

“But Moooommmm, David and I love it when you read us stories, read us the one called A Walk in the Forest Mom, it is funny and scary and weird”

OK dear, go get it off you shelf and get David…my that book is seemingly getting heavier all the time….

“Ah hemm, A Walk in the Forest, written by, well look at all those names, no time to read them all dearie.”

Mom began….

Coco and David knew better, they knew they should not go in the forest alone but they couldn’t help themselves. Especially now. It was not quite sunrise and Dad and Mom would want them to get ready for school very soon.

Coco went down the steps and stopped cold. She heard them first, and grabbed David. Something moved in the trees and the eyes stared out at her from the darkness, drawing her in with their light, while the shadows engulfed her reason, robbing her of the desire to walk on.

The leaves crackled beneath their feet as they walked slowly, near to one another yet not touching, too far apart to be truly together. A twig snapped in the distance, startling them out of their musings, bring them suddenly back to their current situation.

“David, are you sure you want to do this”, said Coco.

“What are you, a chicken?”

What started as a walk in the woods suddenly became a heart racing adventure and she was glad she wasn’t alone out there.

Their dog Krya had come along as well.

They came upon a meadow full of wildflowers, edged with boulders set in increments, suggesting someone or some mystical being was responsible for the tidy upkeep. She couldn’t believe her eyes. It was a real live forest sprite, dressed only in the leaves and flowers of the forest that she cared for. She offered up a sweet drink from a cup made from the biggest most beautiful flower Krya had ever seen.

Krya drank readily and trotted home. David and Coco carried on around a corner and just beyond was a cave, a magical cave.

It was there that the mushrooms grew, deep in the dampness, in the vague patches of sunlight, where only the brave wandered.

Suddenly, there was a popping noise or so they thought.

Together they backed into the damp side of a boulder, backed until their spines pressed into the cool rock and their was no more room to escape what lay before them

And out of nowhere, little white daisies started falling out of the trees. It was as if they were angels coming to rescue them from the horrible fate that would end their lives right then.

“Leave them” said David, “they may be poisonous.”

“Nah uh” replied Coco as she grabbed them. “besides, we can bring them home and explain our walk, that we were out picking flowers.”

Coco smiled at her plan but in seconds it would unravel as there was suddenly a loud noise in front of them.

“What was that popping sound David?” whispered Coco. David smirked and replied “Did my eyes play tricks on me or was that a bear crapping in the woods ?”

Coco pushed off the boulder and at the same time punched her brother in the shoulder, hard. Her face was twisted into a scowl and she mumbled something impolite under her breath. She stomped off then Coco cursed loudly as she twisted her ankle for the 4th time, whatever had originally possessed her to wear her new pink stilletoes, tight blank Capri pants, figure hugging halter top along with her Gucci bag (complete with touch up make up and hairspray), now seemed like a fate worse than death…that was until she saw him and she silently thanked the lord.

It was Aaron, her pretend beau. He had entered the forest from the back of his house a few houses down the street. She thought of him often when she got her dolls out. She had always wondered what a walk in the forest would be like with him instead of her stupid brother David. She could lean on Aaron instead.

She pulled down her shades, desperately trying to get the glare from the sun out of her eyes. She knew that she had to get away from there. Somehow it seemed like the sun was hounding her and she had no place to run, no place to hide.

“Aaron” said Coco in the sweetest voice she could muster, still laced with anger for her brother, “Let’s go to the cave and get some mushrooms, we can bring them back for breakfast.”

This was, of course, convenient as this took Coco away from David at the same time. They walked a few steps and approached the cave entrance when suddenly the popping noise surrounded them and it smelled sickly sweet.

There was bubblegum everywhere, in her hair, on her clothes, stuck to her shoes and even on the books she was carrying, she wondered to herself as she continued to trek through the not so haunted forest where on earth this could possibly come from…

The forest sprite laughed and laughed and said, “Coco, you know you should not go in that cave, so I stopped you. But you can go in if you can answer a riddle.

“Sure”.

Coco spit out the words along with some bubblegum “anything, lay it on me pixie or what ever you are”

Ok said the sprite “But where are the forest of the words going so fast.”

“That doesn’t make any sense!!!!” said an obviously frustrated Coco. “What does it mean?" she pouted.

“you figure it out and you can get your precious mushrooms, otherwise I will blow another huge bubble with my magic bubble gum” said the now risable pixie.

“Mom” said a transfixed Coco” is there such a thing as magic bubblegum and sprites and all that”

“there must be or all these people wouldn’t have put them in your story. Now can we get back to the story dearie?’

“yes mom” said Coco excitedly” please, please, read some more to me”

Her heart began to race as she looked around the corner and began a plan for an escape when out of the corner of her eye she saw the one she was waiting for.

Aaron had found a back entrance into the cave and was motioning her towards him.

She felt it before she saw it, the vibrating flash of light from an explosion

A slew of pink rabbits jumped out of the enormous trees attacking the frightened couple in love.

The rabbits then just as suddenly just hopped away and the forest sprite was rolling on the forest floor, gasping for air from a fit of laughter.

“You and your friend just walk away and remember my riddle if you ever want some mushrooms from my secret cave” said the sprite and with that, she flew away and disappeared in a flash of light. "and avoid the mulberries at all costs" said the sprite.

Coco and Aaaron sat there in stunned silence. It was all they could do to take in the beauty. As the sunrise started to creep into the forest, the morning dew on all the leaves shined like a thousand diamonds in the air.

David, on the other hand, was now thoroughly lost. The sky was becoming ominous again.

He looked around anxiously, remembering that Coco had been there only moments before, but after the bubblegum had exploded, he had run like the deer that should be in the forest, blindly running, thinking that the flowers falling from the sky, the bubblegum explosion, the pink stiletto heels and tight back Capri pants were just far too freaky for a walk in the forest.

The sky opened up and poured for just a short while. David wandered aimlessly. How long, he could not say but there would be heck to pay when he got home. Then, amazingly, off in the distance, he heard voices. It was Coco and Aaron.

“Hey Coco, hey Aaron, you guys ok?”

“yes mister, where did you go, you won’t believe what happened to us” said a rather smug Miss Coco Church. “We saw exploding bubble gun from that silly sprite and pink rabbits fell from the sky and then it poured rain and the rain had just stopped. We decided to go exploring and came upon a forest full of thick mulberries and other exotic looking berries that we were just warned to avoid. We stood at the base of the forest line. Hand in hand, dusk was beginning to fall upon us. We slowly ventured inside. Everything around us was still. We could only hear our own breathing as we walked on the damp forest floor. Over to our left we heard a foul cry for help..it sounded like a wounded animal of some sort..lightening lit up the sky, loud thundering was heard above. The rain came down in droves. We were standing hand in hand, soaked on the forest floor.” said a nearly breathless Coco.

Then they realized something wonderful, scary, potentially awful.

They had no idea where they were or HOW to get home.

David instantly reached for Coco and grabbed her hand, it felt awkward, despite the situation. He looked down and gasped quietly.

They had the exact same birthmark on their hands

The sign of the family..they broke their hands apart and began to study each others every feature..

Coco knew she would be close to David her whole life. But she could say nothing now.

“anyway” continued Coco” so I was telling Aaron, “ She changed her voice to that of the shy Coco, the modest little girl everyone saw at school “Dave told me about the really cool place under the bridge. We walked hand in hand to the edge of the forest. As he tightened his grip into my palm, the thunder and lightening sprang out of nowhere…

ah yes thought David, the same storm that had drenched him so quickly.

Coco then told more of their walk together. “and inside the walls of the forest, we took our first steps into the unknown. It seemed to take forever but we finally passed by the bridge and all the way to the ocean!”

“Sure Coco” snarled her brother” but we live by a lake. Now we all know you love water but the ocean?”

Coco was now as frustrated as she had even been in her life. “David, I don’t know how Aaron and I got to the ocean but we did”. She looked over at Aaron and he nodded his approval. “Then we saw three of our friends out in the ocean” she continued. “we ran down to the beach.

Aaron quickly interrupted ”so she fell down like three times in the sand and I MADE her take those darn shoes off and she went searching for her friends” Now Aaron got smug ”She couldn’t find them, she frantically started yelling their names. Mike, Catherine and Vickie. They didn’t answer. She looked up and saw three people in the ocean. Could it be them?”

“but then they were gone, it must have been seaweed or something” said a decidedly dejected Coco.

They all grew silent and surveyed the scene. As the warm morning sun filtered through the canopy of the forest, they rested on their makeshift bed of leaves and branches, enthralled with the vision of the rising sun and the reflections of the shadows it drew…..

This went on quietly for some 10 minutes or so. Suddenly Coco sprang up. In all the excitement, she realized she HAD to go and GO NOW. She made her excuses and ran into the forest. She was feeling all powerful despite all that had happened to her so far.

So she thought she'd try peeing in the standing up position. She looked around and no one could see her.

But she thought the better of it. She was after all, Miss Coco Church, daughter of one of the more well to do and by some accounts, royal families in the area. She knew different, of course, but she had a standing to uphold. She finished her task and hoped it would keep the deer away. She hated hunters, had seen the movie Doc Hollywood and knew she may save some innocent fauna by her deed.

She walked slowly back to the boys then from the corner of her eye she noticed a movement behind a tree.

She hoped it wasn’t a hunter. She had heard the legend about the young girl who took a walk into the forest and how it had turned deadly for the girl who wandered away from family on a hiking trip to the creek.

No, it was a baby fawn, with spots still on her back, feeding on a fern growing against a tree.

Coco met back up with the boys and said ”I love fall, it is my favorite time of year. The trees are turning colors, the air is crisp and clean and everything in the for is getting ready for it’s long winter’s nap.”

She was feeling very risible, despite her desire to do a most unladylike act just a minute before.

“So is that it Coco?” muttered her now cross brother David ”or is there more to your sssttttooorrry” he said in his most sarcastic tone.

“Oh yes, so Aaron and I were, well, “ she blushed now, a crimson red “ We were happily lost until the high pitched screech shattered the silence in every direction, feeling like it pierced the earth and sky in the process.”

And she stopped, she had exposed herself now, both Aaron and David knew Miss Coco Church, properly raised young lady of the village had feelings, SERIOUS feelings for young Aaron.

And in her head she kept hearing the haunting refrain.” I can feel it coming in the air tonight oh lord”

“Mommy” interrupted Coco, “what does that mean, I can feel it coming in the air tonight Oh lord?”

“oh honey” reassured her mother” it was just some lyrics from a fading rock star” “Young Coco’s parents probably played them a lot when she was in the womb or such, anyway, we are almost done sweetie”

Coco continued ” The sky instantaneously turned from baby blue to purple to black and the sounds of the forest halted as unsettled cold feeling settled in the pit of my stomach as Aaron squeezed my hand tighter than a vice !”

“that was to keep you from running away” said Aaron firmly “ you were headed right back into the ocean, you might have been killed or worse”

Coco knew Aaron was right, she had panicked but who could blame her. Aaron had saved her, well, probably saved her, anyway.

It was time to go home. David said it first, that they needed to get back. Coco nodded silently and walked behind the two boys along the now easily visible forest path. She followed the path for hours and hours along the narrow trail as the light faded into a twilight that was so opaque that she was starting to wonder if she was the last girl on earth.

They arrived just as their mothers were finishing breakfast, they hadn’t been gone nearly as long as they thought.

“Eggs are ready Coco, go get your school clothes on”

“And no one told about what had happened but they knew they had been through a special day. The forest was magical and she could not wait to go back for even more adventures.”

“Mommy”

“Yes, Coco dearie”

“I like that story, when can we hear it again”

“oh soon enough dear but you need your sleep”

Coco quickly fell fast asleep. It really was her favorite story, despite how long it was.

She woke up the next morning and let out a tremendous yawn. She glanced at her nightstand and noticed a half chewed pack of bubble gum as well as a can of Sprite and a picture of her brother David and friend Aaron playing in the woods. Her fluffy pink rabbit lay next to her as it always did, still reeking of seawater from the day before. Her flower vase held white daisies.

She could smell fresh mushrooms being cooked for breakfast. A very old Phil Collins CD played on the stereo. She was a few minutes behind, she didn’t want to be late for her classes. She shook her head to wake herself up.

She knew the line between dreams and reality was thin. But that could wait for when she was older. She knew her imagination could take her as far as she wanted.

“Mom, did you read me a story last night?”

“why dear, don’t you remember?”

The Senior Thinking Challenge

2005-04-28T09:53:00.000-07:00

I love to write, to stir up my brain, my heart and perhaps my soul. I also love to deliver the words but I doubt this blog will see that.

One of the sites I go to is Last Girl on Earth (http://www.denibonet.com/blog/).

Ms Bonet is a musician out of New York and she recently made a video based on requests from her commentors. I was one of them and it was fun.

So, I thought, what if I made a post based on specific requests from people who come by. I decided I would love to try.

So here is the challenge. You type one sentence in quotes in the comments section to this post.

The theme is " A Walk in the Forest".

I will take all the entries that are posted in comments in "quotes "and weave them into a story.

If you post, you will be included.

So type in my comments section something like this:

Senior Thinking, this is so much fun, pure brillience, something to do ( choose as your mood suits you). I like,hate, want to make you squirm ( again let your conscience be your guide) so please include the following phrase in your epic story, silly idea, whatever, it fills the day post

" and the banana slug ran for it's life"

"And the sunset screamed out to be recognized against the creeping fog bank"

"And the tree fell and only he heard but who could he tell"

I am depending on you. I will accept entries until Monday morning my time and post sometime that day.

You may now comment at will.

Also note I have a post below this one, a story I wrote a little while back, before the blog world.

You may visit it as well.

Next week, the elevator challenge. I entered and it was ok. Plus the nature of friendship.

Send me those comments based on this theme " A Walk in the Forest".

You may begin now.

The Apprentice and the Blind Man

2005-04-28T09:49:00.000-07:00

There is a story about an aging man that I would like to tell. An apprentice of his came to visit from out of town, to listen to what the aging man had to say about business matters. They spoke for three hours at the office with the apprentice listening in rapture.

They went to dinner, had a great meal with wine, dessert and much conversation, mostly a one way conversation. The apprentice paid for dinner despite the protests of the aging man, citing what he learned from him as more than equal payment.

The aging man left the restaurant, feeling full of good companionship, food, and wine but especially full of himself. He went to the subway and entered.

As he approached the escalator, a blind man with a cane approached from the side, searching for the path downward. Instinctively the aging man reached out, placed his hand on the blind mans’ shoulder gently and said “this way”. He helped him to the escalator and thought nothing more about it.

At the bottom of the escalator, the blind man was assisted gently off by the aging man and the blind man moved aside. The blind man asked how to board a certain train, the same train to be taken by the aging man. The aging man led him to the correct side of the platform and stopped. They said nothing. The train finally came and the aging man again gently assisted the blind man on. They each sat down someway apart and never spoke. The train eventually came to the end of the line and only the blind man and the aging man were left in the previous packed car.

The blind man got up and the aging man met him at the train door. He helped the blind man out of the train, to the escalator, and out of the station without speaking except for the aging man to say every so often, “this way”.

Just outside the gates, the blind man asked the aging man “Which way to a taxi please.” The aging man said turn right and walk perhaps 50 yards and he would be in the area where taxis drove up. One would surely jump out and help him. The blind man turned, said thank you and walked away. The aging man never saw the blind man again.

I tell you this story for two reasons. One, it shows that the right way to lead, the right way to help people is gently and only when necessary. People only need guidance and only in small doses.

Second, I am the aging man in the story. I shall never forget what I learned from the blind man as long as I live. That late one night I changed forever from a full of himself mentor to an apprentice to someone who learned how to guide.

A series of random thoughts

2005-04-24T08:41:00.000-07:00

Sometimes the themes just pop into your head, some times they don’t. Lately it has been don’t for me, so I’ll let you see some random thoughts that may intrigue you.

You will be asked to comment. Think of it as a water cooler kind of discussion. So here we go.

My Large Intestine likes to read. I am sure, if you take a moment and think about it, you will find out that certain parts of your body really enjoy certain things.

My hands just love golf. I played yesterday, played pretty decent, my lower back says bad idea. My hands feel just wonderful. They are satisfied completely. They were used in many different ways, stretched and twisted and held close, then tightly then just barely. They are smiling this morning. Like the feeling after a night of dancing, where you can still feel the other person as you held them.

My eyes love pool. They love to dissect a table, follow the cue ball around, trying to see what the other player will do. Then do it. I had a 34 last week against a good team. But my eyes saw runs and patterns and adventures that they really enjoyed. They are still happy three days later.

My head likes a good hat. I have over 50. It is quite picky, the hat must fit the task, it must be fresh, there needs to be some style involved. Almost a one body part parade. When the wifey says I have hat hair, my head is quite pleased.

But my large intestine likes to read. Not a lot. And only for a few minutes a day. It reads National Geographic and Golf Digest. It can take 3 weeks to read them both. On a really bad day, it wants the sports page. I think all guys’ large intestine loves the sports page. Gals, leave that section in the bathroom and make your man happy. And if he found a sports page at work, you may trust that your man did not have a completely awful day.

I suspect that you can make a claim on lips and feet and fingers and so on. So what do your body parts like?

I love quiet time. Either late at night or first thing in the morning, especially on a Sunday like now. I know the world will start spinning fast very soon. But right now, it just creeps along. This morning two doves are walking across the top of my back fence, slowly, talking and glancing to each other. The coos can be heard echoing all around me.

They remind me of a mature couple, out just sharing time together. My, that seems so important, to share quiet time either with your self or with someone else. I think it keeps us all sane.

How wonderful, Mr. B just walked in. It seems he is no longer welcome in Chris’ room, Chris needs quiet time too. B’s chomping on kibble is quite crackily and his feet seem to caress the floor as he walks by me. He wants out.

I tap his side as he waits at the sliding door. He knows what this means, he arches himself to make it easier to have me pick him up. He knows I only want a short hug and we exchange purrs. Out he goes, he sees the doves too. B has no partner like the doves do, but he has family now, such as it is. I think he knows he can stop by anytime and that we are home base to him. The definition of family on a quiet morning expands, he seems to be one of us now.

The modern world gives short shift to quiet moments. We seem to be too temporary to me. Quiet moments makes things last and gives one a chance to appreciate the gifts we all have.

I love flowers. All kinds. Oh sure trees are nice. How special is a quiet walk in a grove or forest of trees. Out here, we have redwoods. Not sure exactly why but they radiate a certain energy that no other tree does. A radiance that is more grounded than other trees.

But nothing beats flowers for me. They remind nothing lasts but new things can take their place if you water and nuture them.

How wonderous are gladiolas as the burst upwards day by day. Snapdragons are like colored popcorn kernels on a green stem. My roses extend themselves up for a gentle caress from me or the sun or anyone who wanders by. I have poppies out, they love the sun and warm breezes, swaying to and fro like a chorus.

The carnations are blooming, they are like chicks in a bird’s nest, each asking for attention. We have lots and lots of Iris's. 35 or so bloom each week. Wifey insists we have 6 to 8 in a vase on the table. They stand like elegant ladies at a social event, perfectly coiffed and ready for an expression of beauty and grace.

Other flowers will be out later, each with their own song to sing.

So if you could be a flower, what flower would you be.

Ancestors

2005-04-18T11:53:00.000-07:00

Ok, so I have been pretty busy lately, not crazy busy but my days fill up more and more.

My consulting business is rising on it’s feet, I have a business line and number, laptop will be here next week, room is in the middle of a transformation into an office ( hey Lilly, I can only imagine what your spring cleaning was like) . I am going to networking events and starting to make contacts.

Plus this is my month to participate as a staff member in a Boy Scout Training course. I do it annually. I get to speak about things I value, I cook for the staff, goof off some, light charcoals, and help new parents to Scouting learn how to participate, how it works, why it matters to their kids. I love it. This is my 12th year on staff and it is a fixture on my calendar.

So, in the middle of all that, I got to thinking. I know that is what I am supposed to do. Everyone in Scouts calls me Senior, that is the venue that my name came from, so I smiled on Saturday when it occurred to me that Senior was thinking about a post in the venue that Senior was created.

I thought about how I had got to where I am now. I thought how weird it is that in order for me to become a consultant, the very fabric of my life had to change. My Dad left me some money when he died 18 months ago, and then you combine that with the severance from that lovely firm that will shortly no longer be called AT&T. My kids have left except for one, he moves out August 18th (no, there will be no party at my house that following weekend).

And I will be completely free, just the wife and me, to do what we want.

And I thanked everyone I could think of for allowing me this. My wife for standing by me, my parents who are now both gone, my teachers and workmates and friends in Scouts or golf or pool. I became at peace with how much interconnection there is in a life and how one can be graced by it.

And then, how much my parents must have been helped by their parents.

And I thought about how they helped me directly and the interaction we had, how much it meant to have my grandpa teach me to shoot a gun, even though my dad was the US Army National Champion at the time. Or picking fresh corn for my grandma and I got to cook it. Or when I picked fruits from their back yard and my grandma canned it and mailed it to me at Christmas and that package of Jam, Jellies and so on, lasted me all winter. Or my other grandma that had all her kids and grandkids pictures pasted to her family room wall, by her TV, so she could watch both at the same time. I checked to see my pictures on her wall every time I visited. And we would talk about the latest additions.

There were hundreds of these memories.

And then it hit me. What about their parents. Do I even know them? I know a few names. I know that one was cremated and her ashes were kept next to the water heater at Grandma’s.

But what about them? What were they like? What music did they listen to, did they farm or work at the store.

And it went back further than that. We are only talking about 100 to 120 years or so ago and I am just blank. Worse maybe, I am empty.

Then thought number two hit. It some ways, it is the nature of being in a country like America.

Maybe it is the nature of a melting pot to lose track of the intimate past. We don’t even call ourselves Americans. We are Italian Amercans or African Americans or native/indigenous Americans. Or Wherever Americans.

We have lost connection with our past, our ancestors. I suspect this is true for most of us. Now I know a few details, one of my relatives was mayor of Copenhagen in 1520. Was he tall, short, handsome, ugly as sin, I have no idea, might as well the context and content of his life.

So what will my legacy be and will I even have one or will I just fade away in 3 generations or so, to be lost to the throws of the Universe?

Living in the now is fine and we here do it very well. But perhaps we have sacrificed our past in the process.

I am sure images and so on will live on but what of the stories, the context of life.

Maybe a blog will help in the future. I just wish I knew more.

So I recalled a Boy Scout ditty that goes “Here we sit like birds in the wilderness, birds in the wilderness, birds in the wilderness…”

I really am a bit like a bird in the wilderness. I get to fly away and try something completely new. And how many people contributed to that.

If I only knew more of them, especially my ancestors

Visitng the Archives

2005-04-10T08:34:00.000-07:00

My life got really busy this week and looks to be even busier next week and the week after. It seems my consulting practice is taking shape, all I need is my first client but I am working on that, and away we go.

So I didn’t blog. In fact, I spent a lot of this week thinking about what I have done in the past that made me what I am now and therefore, what I can do for others.

You are always selling yourself to the world in everything you do, it just depends how subtle the situation is really.

In consulting, it is not so subtle, at home or at Scouts or other places, it can be. Which got me to thinking about blogging and blogs I read. What the great entry I read that made me decide to come back to the blogs I read.

So this entry is about connecting back to my early parts of blogdom and sending you there. Below are some entries from some of the blogs I read all the time, out of their archives. These are not every blog I read, and I add some more in a post in the future BUT we can start here.

It is time to go back in time to see how we got to this place. Just hit the back arrow to return to this post as you visit.

First up, Karen at Creatively Amusing. Read some of her other October entries as well, a real riot. This one is instructional, designed to help us avoid her pain.

Then there is Reama. The entry I love is on 11-20 but read a few of them. I can just FEEL her pain on dealing with a salesman, after reading this one, I was hooked.

Next up is Anna at The Particular Ordinary. This post was simple but came straight from the heart. I was hooked after this one. SCroll down a screen or so to find it.

Then there is the directness of Chaotic Serenity. This one is about her car. I think we have all been there. I was hooked at the first line, it sure set the tone of the post perfectly.

My first favorite over at Cocktails and Smokes was the entry called Know what burns my Ass? It was a free ranging post that was like a runaway freight train. Scroll down to it but I cannot help you if you read some of her posts as you do.

Next up is California is a Recipe for a Black Hole. It is jointly authored and this one is from Breasier. It just floored me when I read it.

Last up is well, me. I wanted to refer you to the first post I ever thought I did well.

Here it is. It is called Mad Dog, Mad Dog !!

That is enough for now. In your comments, you can even link us to your own personal favorite post, either yours or someone else’s.

We all want to press forward, to see where life takes us, to somehow find out the ending before it is time. There really is plenty of time, we all can wait for it. We all should take stock of where we have been, to visit our own archives and the archives of others.

I could be pithy and remind us all of the line that he who does not learn the lesson of history is doomed to repeat it.

But a more accurate thought is that we live on the building blocks from the past. We often spend time mocking or denying our former selves, as if we are better now or if what we were in the past is of lesser value.

That just seems silly and probably foolish. We are an extension of that past and without it, we would be nothing. I love to look back, it helps me to validate and to understand.

For if I know where I have been, I have compassion for and some idea of where I might be going.

Il Papa, John Paul II

2005-04-04T11:44:00.000-07:00

I am not Catholic. My wife was raised Catholic but declares herself “recovering”. My Dad was Catholic, my Mom was Christian Scientist. I was raised Lutheran. The joke is that my parents split the difference.

This post is not an homage to Catholicism nor its’ practices. It is an observation about its’ most recent leader.

John Paul the Second was just amazing. He was firmly and thoroughly a conservative Catholic. I cannot support many of his beliefs as far as individual practice of religion and fath.

But he was also a man of the planet, in such a way that he shamed so many world leaders that it boggles the mind.

So he was an enigma. That makes him all the more interesting.

He was raised simply and lost quite a few family members early in his life, that seemed to help him focus. He survived Nazi occupation and the Cold War at what may have been the major Cold War flash point, the country of Poland. He did so nobly rising in his faith.

He became the Archbishop of Krakow and a Cardinal. That is not unusual, there are several Polish Cardinals and have been for centuries but his fame started in 1969. He became a favorite of Pope Paul the 6th. He urged the Pope to adhere to Vatican II reforms in the most conservative way possible. The Pope finally relented.

He was a minor candidate for Pope after the death of Pope Paul but the Vicar of Venice was chosen, to be replaced after a 33 day reign ( we can discuss the alleged poisoning another day).

He was elected after 4 days as a compromise candidate. But he would turn out to be no compromise. He was after all the first non-Italian Pope in 455 years (that would be 1523 AD folks, 100 years or so before Shakespeare and Queen Elisabeth, 243 years before our own Declaration of Independence)

Just his mere election was a dramatic change. Shortly after, he changed Canon law to eliminate church officials from being elected secular officials, that affected a priest here in the US in fact.

And then he set out to become perhaps the most important political being in the last 100 years or more.

You have seen the TV shows. He went to Poland and moved the people to eventually throw out their government. It became the starting point of the eventual fall of the Soviet style of Communism.

He went to a Synagogue as a Pope, the first ever.

He went to a Muslim Mosque as a Pope, the first ever.

He went to Jerusalem and prayed at the Wailing Wall.

He apologized for the Holocaust and the lack of Church involvement and recognition.

He had personal audiences, not masses, personal audiences with 14.7 MILLION people.

He did masses with over 200 MILLION people.

He entertained Yassar Arafat when no one else would.

He told George Bush the Second that the Iraq war was terribly wrong. He told his father that his war was wrong too.

He viewed people across all boundaries, not in what political silo they seemed to fit at the time. In doing so, he make fools of most world leaders and endeared himself personally to more than two billion people, only half of which practiced his faith.

He comes from the longest ruling practice on the planet. No process can claim 2000 years or so of direct handoffs of power. And his position in his faith is undisputed. Name the ultimate leader in the following:

Protestant Faith
Muslim Faith
Buddhist
Democracy
Communistic

The world continues to be marginalized, fractionalized, broken, to be divided up by despots who lack vision. They talk of peace, only to make war or tyranny in the name of peace. And we continue to vote them along or agree to be ruled by them by not standing up to them.

His position gave him the ability to do great things. And yet, he exceeded them. He was truly a man of the entire world. He saw everyone and every group as a child of God, even if he did not agree with how they approached God in their own way.

It will be tremendously difficult to match what he did. He changed his church, he changed his religion and he even helped shape the planet.

I would not want to follow in his shoes. He might have filled them better than any Pope since Peter himself.

It may be a long time until we see his like again.

We have a cat and his name is Lassie

2005-03-31T15:13:00.000-08:00

The first time an outsider said we had an unusual cat as far as temperament was when we took Mr. B to the vet. The vet was quite clear, “you have the most dog-like cat I have ever seen” he said.

"Oh you mean because of his big head and all ?"( please see previous posts for what "all" means)

"No Mr. North, because he reacts and acts like a dog."

“How is that?” says the owner

“You’ll see.”

Fast forward to yesterday. Mr. B has settled into a nice little rhythm here at the homestead. He usually comes in first thing in the morning, either from right out front or from Chris’ room. He yawns, he stretches and he announces that he is hungry. This is usually between 7 and 8am. He eats and gets his water and trips on outside. Have to check out the neighborhood.

Around 11am he wants back in, more food, more water, more meows. Now it is prime nap time. That lasts until about 2:30, wake up, more food, water and meows and out for the afternoon. He returns to grace us with his presence at sunset. More food, water and meows are required. Then he usually finds someone to play with him, or at least hold a civil conversation.

Bedtime is usually about 9PM, sleep until 7am or so and repeat.

But no yesterday was an unusual day. He spent the night visiting friends, checking on enemies and the like and came in right about 7AM. He immediately wanted a nap and went upstairs and planted himself right at the top. He likes it there. He seems to hold court there. He doesn’t repose in such a way that he is guarding it or being a lookout. I think it is central to the comings and goings of the house occupants and he wants to be able to be involved. Now, you may take that to mean, be in the way. Not really.

It is a social thing. My wife and I pass by there several times each day. Chris has to as well. He can see clearly the front door and main hallway and observe the natural ebb and flow of the humans. He just sees things go by best there.

Anyway, so at 11am, he wakes up and begins meowing, from his perch at the top of the stairs. I am downstairs, watching TV and I know him well enough now to wait. Sometimes he likes to vocalize and go back to sleep. It can be a bit of a power thing.

So he comes downstairs and goes to a spot where he can see me and meows again.

Owner says, “do you want food B ?”

“Bbbrrroooeeww”

Same to you, I’ll get it for you.

He follows me, meowing the whole way. This was not a friendly meow, more of a bbbbbrrrreeeeuuuuummmm sound. Hmm, I pour in fresh food, he moves to the kitchen. This normally works, not today.

Owner rinses and adds fresh water. Nope.

Owner goes to door to let cat out. Ah, no sir.

He sits in the kitchen, tail flicking, calm as can be and let’s me have it.

“BBBBRRRRROOOOOEEERRRRRR”

“BBBBEEEEEUUUUOOOOWWWWW”

I walk towards him and he rises, and walks away.

Why you little stinker…

And then his head pops around the corner, a quick “bbrrrrooooww” towards me and he disappears again.

Hmm, bears investigation.

I round the corner and he is at the foot of the stairs, waiting. “Bbbbbrrrreeeeooowww,” says B and up the stairs he goes.

I get to the stairs and he is on the landing, about a third of the way up, waiting. “Bbbrrrrreeeooowwww” and up he goes to the top.

And it hits me and I die laughing, I am being led along, he is taking me to what he wants and he is being quite patient about it.

At the top of the stairs, he twists his head, lets out a quick, “bbrrreeooww” and saunters to Chris’ door and poses and waits. I reach the top of the stairs and the door opens and Chris emerges.

“What is all that meowing about Dad?” says our sleepy yet roused son.

“Oh B wanted me to let him in your room and he had to lead me all over the house to get me to your door.”

“OK, thanks Dad”, cat goes in between Chris feet as the door goes shut, Chris mutters “Damn Cat” and B meows back at me.

It reminded me of when Lassie would lead the stupid humans to Timmy who had fallen down a well or whatever. Except that was staged and this was real.

Seems the vet was right, Mr. B does act like a dog. He doesn’t even mind getting wet for example, except he wants you to towel him off when he comes in from the rain. Really. He follows you around until you figure it out and he does say thank you when you are done.

I am not sure what I have done by making him our cat but it sure is going to be interesting. BBRRRREEEOOOOWWW.

2005-03-29T12:16:00.000-08:00

Lilly's picture contest entry

2005-03-24T16:41:00.000-08:00

Lilly at http://guardedlilly.blogspot.com/ had this challenge this week to write a story about a picture she posted. Scroll down on her site to find the contest.

So the picture Lilly challenged us to write about is below this blog entry and below that is my contest writing entry.

She left the rules very wide open, so you can all guess if this is fiction or not.

That said, here is my entry.

Under the pier

2005-03-24T16:38:00.000-08:00

2005-03-24T16:28:00.000-08:00

It is very quiet again tonight. The sea is calm and I have to strain to hear the lapping of the waves as they stroll in towards me.

Tonight the moon is full and creates a silver shade to the water. It is like the side of a salmon or a mackerel. But there are no salmon or mackerel here. I don’t see fish at all any more. Even the sea gulls don’t come. That makes the silence even louder.

I love to watch the shadows of the pilings twist as the moon moves across the sky. It is like watching 48 moon dials trying to tell me the time. Yes there are 48 pilings. I have counted them hundreds of times. I check each one to see if it rotted or twisted or seems in danger of falling.

Not because I am afraid the pier will collapse. Because, it will mean I am that much closer to the end of my days. But they all still seem sturdy, I have time left yet.

The sand is about the same as when I was a kid. I thought then that I could eventually come here enough that I could notice any erosion, that the fine pebbles would shrink, so the seaweed could come that much closer to the bank behind me as the tide came in. But it hasn’t. I wonder how long it must take for that to happen and how long it has gone on already.

I am sure some scientist could guess or has a theory. Doesn’t matter to me, they can never prove it but I thought I just might be able to watch it, not so.

No ships come any more. I suppose they used to before I was born. They couldn’t have been for fishing, maybe lumber or some other transport. Whatever did happen here either moved on or died out. It seems all I am left with a 48 spoke time machine.

It is more than a clock. It has shown me that time can move slowly or not even at all. The ships have moved on but the beach is the same, like it was before the pier and the ships were even built.

And then, time can go so quickly. The moon will cross the sky in only a few hours and the tide will be in by then and I will have to move to the bank because I can’t get wet, my wife has a dinner planned and the company will probably mind a bit.

Not that I haven’t. I used to make my mom so mad at times by running as fast as I could under the pier into the ocean until I was up to my chest in water. It was tremendously fun. Then a quick retreat and attack the water again and again. Once you do it three times or so, you cannot get any wetter or for me happier

I stopped doing that long ago, long before she passed on and left this place to me. My brother can have the cabin up in the mountains. My soul is out in that water someplace.

It is why I come here, to look for it, to draw some power from it.

Well, time to go back to the house to finish off making the mushrooms. Maybe later I can convince the wife to come out on the pier and have a moondance.

Maybe the pier is a time machine, a dance floor and a magnet, because I am drawn here. My wife understands, she enjoys the quiet when we come up, especially when I go for a walk.

I suppose there are finer places to go to but none seem as soothing and spiritual as this place, under the pier.

I am sure land animals emerged from the sea, probably at a place just like this. I want to finish my days here. I have already told everyone to sprinkle my ashes out there. It is where I belong.

Oh well, enough of all that, I have mushrooms to make and old friends to get a hug from. All that other stuff can wait for yet another day.

Cats and Dogs

2005-03-21T10:48:00.000-08:00

So the Love Is theme sparked quite a lot of comment. That was grand indeed. Thanks to all that came by. Please extend the conversation as you see fit and several folks already have.

My wife's Godmother passed away over the weekend. I’ll be off line later today until Thursday morning, doing the funeral thing out of town.

But this post came to me starting last week and I need to get it out. Cats and Dogs, some descriptions follow, please add in your own in the comments section.

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Cats really don’t know what to do with their paws when the sleep. They try immeasurable ways to put them somewhere but they end up looking silly or so cute, it makes you laugh. Cats practice sleeping all day long and never seem to be completely satisfied.

Most dogs have a few basic positions when they sleep. While sleep is important, dreams are far more important. I wish I had as vivid a dream state as my dogs did.

My cat rubs me every morning when he wants food. Then he gives the curio cabinet an even better rub. Every day he does this. I feel so cheap, so used but I pour the food anyway. So who serves who?

Dogs usually just want the food and are so happy is out or is coming. No pickiness here. Kind of like that phase where you could do cheeseburgers and Kraft Mac and Cheese 6 days a week and be happy. Dogs have larger mission in life than food. Not that they don’t enjoy it but keep the menu simple.

My cat would send wine back at Tavern on the Green

Dogs could easily drink Ripple or beer. And they could even care less about the issue of tastes great vs. less filling, they just want the suds man.

Cats would join a sorority, if it was the right one.

Dogs are frat beasts. Just need a couple of Greek letters and some dudes to hang out with.

Cats prefer self locomotion if at all possible. Transportation is for chumps. Unless it was a proper limo. And then, only if you opened the door for them. And then, only if the finest food was freshly available inside. Maybe then, cats would use transportation. Maybe.

Dogs love cars, well known, no dispute. Campers, hell yes, hey it is a super road trip. Saw a dog on a public bus once. He was happy as all get out. The window was down and his head was out. Dogs will go anywhere as long as the window is down. Fact.

Cats would never use a TV remote. Not sure most cats know TV exists. Guaranteed they do not care. There are much more important things to do like flicking one’s tail or pretending to think you actually matter to them.

Dogs would own cable and a satellite dish and surf all day long, more is better, most is best. I actually showed a dog how to use the next channel button. She loved it. The Doc said she cannot make out the image. Yeah, right.

Cats would only shop at the finest stores, buy the best things, if they were inclined to shop at all. Have you really ever seen an interested cat at a pet store. Go there now, you will see three dogs out of their mind with joy. Dogs don’t mall, cats mall, unless they can get to Rodeo Drive, now we are talking.

Dogs just want clothes. The Gap, whatever. Jeans are cool. Just so the window is down when we go.

Cats can sleep anywhere. They don’t need you, they need nothing. They are the Sgt. Shultz of Sleeping. Very Zen.

Dogs need to sleep as close to the people as possible. On floor in bedroom is good. On bed is even better. Push one human out of bed to get proper position, priceless. And do not tell me you have not let your dog in your bed. I shall not hear of it.

Cats prefer to start their own business. I am never sure what it is, it seems, it is none of my own business. But many cats are successful businessanimals. Just look at them, would they move like that if they were considering bankruptcy?

Dogs live in cubeland. They get their voice mail right away, they answer all email in a jiffy and hear all the office gossip. I loved it when my dog came home and I got all the juice. The cats in the boardroom never spoke, of course. No need, they’ll change their minds again tomorrow.

Cats would only drive Formula One, imagine David Niven with whiskers.

Dogs do Nascar, even the truck series, especially if the window is down.

Despite all that, cats actually care. They are just here to keep us on our toes and make sure life’s serving of kibble is always fresh.

Dogs just want us to know that we matter. Not just to them, but to everyone.

Love is........

2005-03-18T10:24:00.000-08:00

Love is so many things. Love of a partner or a relative, a friend, a pet, whatever.

It is nearly impossible to define. All any of us can do is identify it when we see it, like posting a pixel on a TV screen. Then, if you see enough, you see a picture

So I want to build a picture of love. I will add in 10 and then you all can comment and add in your own and we will see if a picture develops from our words.

Love is saying you are sorry and the other person accepts completely. You know then that they see your faults and see that you mean it, that you recognize that you are flawed but you are truly sorry. So you each accept that and move on to the next subject.

Love is letting the other person use the remote. Sure you can surf better but maybe, just maybe, you surf differently. So you let go and watch how they want to watch. And over time, you accept that and maybe even enjoy.

Love is saying good bye when they leave your sight. They may just being going for a drive or to the store but as they leave, you realize that you will miss them, and that your gut twitches a bit.

Love is taking someone to the ER and just waiting. The longer they are back there, the more you want them well but also that you want them back. So you go and you miss and you wait and you hope. For if you hope, you know that you love them.

Love is a gentle pet across the ribs. Maybe you get a bark back, maybe you get a purr, a nuzzle. But you always get a look, a glance, a nod. And they follow you for a few steps. Sometimes, it only means I am hungry. But most times, it means that they care about you. So you stop and they tilt their head and for just a moment, the world did stop.

Love is a silly picnic, surrounded by strangers. But you only focus on the other person. You may be surrounded by strange noises and smells and the weather is not quite perfect that day. But you go anyway and you laugh at silly things and you wonder why you had not done this in so long.

Love is chasing someone around a tree. They may be small or large, related to you or not. You chase them anyway until your lungs are ready to burst. The cause is not clear, it could be you ran too fast or laughed too much or both. Probably both. So you sit and gasp and smile and you know ………

Love is going to the cemetery and visiting someone who is gone. You cry a bit and you laugh a bit. Then you say thank you, thank you for all they did for you and meant to you. You wish them well, wherever they are and you are grateful they were a part of what and who you are now.

Love is sending or giving someone flowers for no reason. Just because. Sure you can give them flowers on special days or when they are sick or they just had a bad day. But flowers for just no reason at all, maybe that means love.

Love is a peck as they pass by you. For no reason, except you could reach them with your lips. It may piss them off or distract them, no matter. They may look back and wonder why you did that. And you smile and go about your business. It was just a hello and a reminder that you care all the time.

So what is love to you, comments are always welcome

more pix and an update

2005-03-16T11:30:00.000-08:00

I will make a more normal post on Friday. Mr B was attacked again 36 hours ago and is acting weird. He was fine at first but is limping more today. We are watching him closely to see if he should go in.

So I have loaded some more flower pix and a Mr B pic to keep you all busy.

Plus I need to work on updating my consulting site. So Senior needs to get off his butt and get some throughput moving.

Best to all.

Is nap time now?

2005-03-16T11:26:00.000-08:00