A little brown cork
Fell in the path of a whale
Who lashed it down
With his angry tail.
But in spite of its blows
It quickly arose,
And floated serenely
Before his nose.
Said the cork to the whale:
"You may flap, slap, sputter and frown,
But you never, never, can keep me down;
For I'm made of the stuff
That is buoyant enough
To float instead of drown."
Though I see the end approaching - the end of the familiar, the rearrangement of the elements of beauty... I know that as the night presses it's ever-expanding claim, the things in which I put my faith will come most alive, and fight their undoing by rising up to their full and majestic height.
Here's to cork, and here's to you.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Here piggy piggy
What do you do when you have a pig that’s so big, he can’t walk? You either:
A-slaughter him, B-put him on a diet, or C-keep feeding him, which is more or less what the health care debate boils down to – the pig representing the current state of our healthcare system. Let’s discuss in a non-partisan way some points about the health care debate that everyone seems to agree upon.
1: The USA spends an inordinate amount of it’s GDP on health care, more than any other nation.
2: Our current healthcare system is radically unfair. –That’s not to say that other healthcare models wouldn’t be more unfair.
First, we have the people who want to ‘kill the pig’.
Some argue that we need a large-scale, govt-run insurance company. The so-called “public option”, which everyone would be able to buy into, and for which the poor would pay less than the rich. This government-run insurer would then be able to negotiate lower costs for procedures, and cut down on the number of procedures used.
Although the “public option” wouldn’t eliminate private insurers, private insurers still HATE the prospect, because they know the government-run company will be larger, and therefore more able to leverage lower prices – making the public option less expensive, and making people less inclined to buy private insurance.
Second, we have those who want to ‘put the pig on a diet’.
These people advocate the creation of some sort of non-profit insurance companies that will compete with private insurance. Because they are non-profit companies, they will not be incentivised to work for shareholders (like for-profit insurers), but instead work for the patients they represent. The downside of the “put the pig on a diet” plan is that you still end up with tens of millions of people with no insurance whatsoever.
Then, you have the people who don’t want healthcare system overhaul. They want to ‘keep feeding the pig’. These people are happy with the current state of their healthcare, and probably don’t want to pay for people who make stupid decisions (gang-bangers with gunshot wounds, alcoholics, smokers, the obese). On some level I can empathize with this. At the OC fair a few years ago, I remember seeing a vendor selling chocolate-covered bacon. I don’t want to be on the financial hook for people that eat chocolate-covered bacon.
Although many people are screaming that they don’t want socialism, what they don’t realize is that many aspects of our government have already been socialist for some time. We share the cost of school, roads, and the military, to name a few. Also, we already have socialized medicine, just an outrageously bloated and inefficient form of it. At most hospitals, ANYONE can go to receive treatment. That treatment may bankrupt you, and it may be of poor quality, but nobody is refused if they cannot pay upfront. I would argue that it is the very inefficiency of our current system that makes medical care so much more expensive than it needs to be.
Is healthcare a privilege, or is it a right? If it is a privilege (even if it’s a very desirable privilege, like indoor plumbing), then we need to STOP giving healthcare of any kind to people who cannot afford to pay for it in advance.
But I think the reason that hospitals continue to treat people who are uninsured is that we, the people, don’t believe that healthcare is a privilege. We believe that it is a right. And if it is a right - like life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness - then it is the responsibility of our government to protect that right.
A-slaughter him, B-put him on a diet, or C-keep feeding him, which is more or less what the health care debate boils down to – the pig representing the current state of our healthcare system. Let’s discuss in a non-partisan way some points about the health care debate that everyone seems to agree upon.
1: The USA spends an inordinate amount of it’s GDP on health care, more than any other nation.
2: Our current healthcare system is radically unfair. –That’s not to say that other healthcare models wouldn’t be more unfair.
First, we have the people who want to ‘kill the pig’.
Some argue that we need a large-scale, govt-run insurance company. The so-called “public option”, which everyone would be able to buy into, and for which the poor would pay less than the rich. This government-run insurer would then be able to negotiate lower costs for procedures, and cut down on the number of procedures used.
Although the “public option” wouldn’t eliminate private insurers, private insurers still HATE the prospect, because they know the government-run company will be larger, and therefore more able to leverage lower prices – making the public option less expensive, and making people less inclined to buy private insurance.
Second, we have those who want to ‘put the pig on a diet’.
These people advocate the creation of some sort of non-profit insurance companies that will compete with private insurance. Because they are non-profit companies, they will not be incentivised to work for shareholders (like for-profit insurers), but instead work for the patients they represent. The downside of the “put the pig on a diet” plan is that you still end up with tens of millions of people with no insurance whatsoever.
Then, you have the people who don’t want healthcare system overhaul. They want to ‘keep feeding the pig’. These people are happy with the current state of their healthcare, and probably don’t want to pay for people who make stupid decisions (gang-bangers with gunshot wounds, alcoholics, smokers, the obese). On some level I can empathize with this. At the OC fair a few years ago, I remember seeing a vendor selling chocolate-covered bacon. I don’t want to be on the financial hook for people that eat chocolate-covered bacon.
Although many people are screaming that they don’t want socialism, what they don’t realize is that many aspects of our government have already been socialist for some time. We share the cost of school, roads, and the military, to name a few. Also, we already have socialized medicine, just an outrageously bloated and inefficient form of it. At most hospitals, ANYONE can go to receive treatment. That treatment may bankrupt you, and it may be of poor quality, but nobody is refused if they cannot pay upfront. I would argue that it is the very inefficiency of our current system that makes medical care so much more expensive than it needs to be.
Is healthcare a privilege, or is it a right? If it is a privilege (even if it’s a very desirable privilege, like indoor plumbing), then we need to STOP giving healthcare of any kind to people who cannot afford to pay for it in advance.
But I think the reason that hospitals continue to treat people who are uninsured is that we, the people, don’t believe that healthcare is a privilege. We believe that it is a right. And if it is a right - like life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness - then it is the responsibility of our government to protect that right.
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
Monday, August 03, 2009
Susanna Mari Doss
Today is Suzy's birthday. In honor of this solemn and momentous occasion, I would like to share some of my most cherished memories of her.
The first that springs to mind is of her running down the grassy slopes at Dino park, then falling and breaking her arm. I was mightily jealous of all the attention she recieved, and intrigued by the makeshift splint that the overzealous adults made for her out of cardboard, twigs, rope, human hair, and bras[citation needed]. My wonder soon turned to weeping and gnashing of teeth, as when she watched our group during 'naptime', she made good use of her cast-bound arm by vigorously bonking the evildoers(me) over the head with it.
Another fond memory of her is the torture and humiliation I endured when she, along with my other sisters, would hold me down and tickle me mercilessly, laughing at my helplessness.
Joking aside, I do have many fond memories of you Suz, like going up to NHK field, flying a kite, and you reading L. M. Alcott's books to us. How thin you were after coming home from Africa, and how happy I was to have you home. Our adventures(or lack thereof) at the editing studio, and our long bike rides, pool trips, and frisbee sessions at the park.
I think, looking back, at what I appreciate most about you is that although you were always very intelligent and learned, you never made me feel dumb, and always treated me with patience and helped me learn by teaching me new things and ideas.
I think those traits have made, and will make you an excellent mother. Noah, Dillon, and Zoe are very lucky.
I love you and hope you have a wonderful birthday!
The first that springs to mind is of her running down the grassy slopes at Dino park, then falling and breaking her arm. I was mightily jealous of all the attention she recieved, and intrigued by the makeshift splint that the overzealous adults made for her out of cardboard, twigs, rope, human hair, and bras[citation needed]. My wonder soon turned to weeping and gnashing of teeth, as when she watched our group during 'naptime', she made good use of her cast-bound arm by vigorously bonking the evildoers(me) over the head with it.
Another fond memory of her is the torture and humiliation I endured when she, along with my other sisters, would hold me down and tickle me mercilessly, laughing at my helplessness.
Joking aside, I do have many fond memories of you Suz, like going up to NHK field, flying a kite, and you reading L. M. Alcott's books to us. How thin you were after coming home from Africa, and how happy I was to have you home. Our adventures(or lack thereof) at the editing studio, and our long bike rides, pool trips, and frisbee sessions at the park.
I think, looking back, at what I appreciate most about you is that although you were always very intelligent and learned, you never made me feel dumb, and always treated me with patience and helped me learn by teaching me new things and ideas.
I think those traits have made, and will make you an excellent mother. Noah, Dillon, and Zoe are very lucky.
I love you and hope you have a wonderful birthday!
Saturday, August 01, 2009
Monday, July 13, 2009
Ascent into madness
This past weekend I took it upon myself to climb Mt. San Antonio, the highest mountain in the world. "Why", you ask? "Because it is there", I say.
Not only would I climb it, but by God I would find the most challenging route up to the summit. Ride the ski lift halfway to the top? I scoff at your ski lift.
Because I am a genius, I discovered a little known trail that cut straight to the top, with no need for those wimpy switchbacks or gently sloping ridgelines. This "Ski Hut trail" is difficult to find, and even more difficult to master. But master it I did. All 4 and 1/2 miles of vertical goat-path. Lubricated by the sweat of my brow and the secretion of all manner of bodily fluids, I propelled myself to the summit on quaking chicken legs.
Here, we see our hero beginning the treacherous ascent, armed only with his wits and 2 litres of water.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. I began the climb in high spirits, as I had previously sacrificed 3 orphaned Tutsi children to Moloch in hopes of fair weather, which he granted me. Emerging from the parking lot, I had an urge to purge, but I was thwarted at the port-a-potties by a group of hippies dressed as hikers, who loitered and pooped with abandon, hogging the facilities. I forged ahead, squirrels chattering in wonder at the dashing figure blazing up the mountain. After approximately 500 feet I realized that my blistering pace was unsustainable, and I wisely slowed to a mincing helf-step to conserve energy. I found the trail, a 12-inch path cutting up the slope, and began my ascent.
The view.
I immediately began breathing heavily, but not due to exhaustion. I blame the breathtaking vistas around me for literally "taking my breath away", and not the fact that I have the lung capacity of an asthmatic smoker. As I climbed, I realized that this was not going to be a pleasant experience. I wasn't even at the halfway point, and already my romantic notions of solo climbing were evaporating like the briny liquid that covered every inch of my upper body.
The sunscreen coating my face began to trickle down into my eyes, blinding and enraging me. I stumbled on, bellowing and weeping as I labored to the "Ski Hut", the halfway point. This edifice was constructed by demented sherpas who took it upon themselves to fabricate a hut at 8,000 feet with no doors or windows.
I'm serious. No doors or windows. It's beyond me. I did, however, avail myself of the "facilities", an outhouse filled with wasps.
I live a charmed life.
I rested, munched on trail mix, and attempted to compose myself. I struck up a conversation with an older gent who seemed knowledgeable about the mountain. He advised me cheerfully that the "worst was yet to come", and recommended that I look sharp because the trail is easily lost in the rocky area. Charmed, I contemplated what kind of death would overtake me as I blundered, half-blind, among the sharp rocks.
This is the f*****g trail.
I pressed on. The next 2 hours were a blur of pain and hyperventilation. As my hip dislocated with each step forward, I begun to believe that my head was inhabited by gold-mining dwarves. Their incessant hammering between my ears drove me nearly to distraction. My greatest regret is that due to the state I was in, I didnt stop to appreciate the gorgeous scenery as well as I should have.
The last mile was the hardest. I felt sure that heart failure was in my near future, and I finally staggered gasping onto the summit.
I rested for about 1/2 hour, and then made my way down the ridge leading to the ski lifts.
What did I learn from this adventure? Absolutely nothing. My legs feel like i was set upon by Tonya Harding's goons, and it hurts to sit down. Still, I would recommend this climb. I laughed. I cried. I vomited. I voided nearly all producible bodily fluids. I am a new man.
Not only would I climb it, but by God I would find the most challenging route up to the summit. Ride the ski lift halfway to the top? I scoff at your ski lift.
Because I am a genius, I discovered a little known trail that cut straight to the top, with no need for those wimpy switchbacks or gently sloping ridgelines. This "Ski Hut trail" is difficult to find, and even more difficult to master. But master it I did. All 4 and 1/2 miles of vertical goat-path. Lubricated by the sweat of my brow and the secretion of all manner of bodily fluids, I propelled myself to the summit on quaking chicken legs.
Here, we see our hero beginning the treacherous ascent, armed only with his wits and 2 litres of water.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. I began the climb in high spirits, as I had previously sacrificed 3 orphaned Tutsi children to Moloch in hopes of fair weather, which he granted me. Emerging from the parking lot, I had an urge to purge, but I was thwarted at the port-a-potties by a group of hippies dressed as hikers, who loitered and pooped with abandon, hogging the facilities. I forged ahead, squirrels chattering in wonder at the dashing figure blazing up the mountain. After approximately 500 feet I realized that my blistering pace was unsustainable, and I wisely slowed to a mincing helf-step to conserve energy. I found the trail, a 12-inch path cutting up the slope, and began my ascent.
The view.I immediately began breathing heavily, but not due to exhaustion. I blame the breathtaking vistas around me for literally "taking my breath away", and not the fact that I have the lung capacity of an asthmatic smoker. As I climbed, I realized that this was not going to be a pleasant experience. I wasn't even at the halfway point, and already my romantic notions of solo climbing were evaporating like the briny liquid that covered every inch of my upper body.
The sunscreen coating my face began to trickle down into my eyes, blinding and enraging me. I stumbled on, bellowing and weeping as I labored to the "Ski Hut", the halfway point. This edifice was constructed by demented sherpas who took it upon themselves to fabricate a hut at 8,000 feet with no doors or windows.
I'm serious. No doors or windows. It's beyond me. I did, however, avail myself of the "facilities", an outhouse filled with wasps.
I live a charmed life. I rested, munched on trail mix, and attempted to compose myself. I struck up a conversation with an older gent who seemed knowledgeable about the mountain. He advised me cheerfully that the "worst was yet to come", and recommended that I look sharp because the trail is easily lost in the rocky area. Charmed, I contemplated what kind of death would overtake me as I blundered, half-blind, among the sharp rocks.
This is the f*****g trail.I pressed on. The next 2 hours were a blur of pain and hyperventilation. As my hip dislocated with each step forward, I begun to believe that my head was inhabited by gold-mining dwarves. Their incessant hammering between my ears drove me nearly to distraction. My greatest regret is that due to the state I was in, I didnt stop to appreciate the gorgeous scenery as well as I should have.
The last mile was the hardest. I felt sure that heart failure was in my near future, and I finally staggered gasping onto the summit.
I rested for about 1/2 hour, and then made my way down the ridge leading to the ski lifts. What did I learn from this adventure? Absolutely nothing. My legs feel like i was set upon by Tonya Harding's goons, and it hurts to sit down. Still, I would recommend this climb. I laughed. I cried. I vomited. I voided nearly all producible bodily fluids. I am a new man.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Life
It's shiny cars, wistful eyes and roast beef for dinner. It's chaos, and harmony and water balloon fights, and words you can't take back. It's tears of joy and pain and feelings you can't explain. It's questions and answers and "I don't knows". It's the rise and fall of civilizations and stock markets and kids on trampolines - It's finding true love, losing it, and finding it all over again. It's music and sensation and touchdowns and chocolate. It's spirituality, and inspiration, and money, and traffic jams - It's disaster, and heroism, and paper clips, and knowing when to breathe - It's flirting, and tasting, and curiosity. It's fast, and it's slow, and it's rising and falling. It's every moment, every hope, every dream, every piece of the cosmic puzzle. It's life. And it's yours.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Drugs are bad....mmmkay
America's failed War on Drugs has been a gateway to a police state resulting in a total loss of privacy, unconstitutional asset forfeiture laws, no knock raids and jails stuffed with poor souls convicted of victimless crimes. Isn't our parasitic and murderous military/industrial complex sufficient cause for national shame? Must we add to it a rapidly metastasizing prison/ industrial complex that is equally parasitic and murderous?
Forget about legalization of marijuana. Let's move on to decriminalization. And while we're at it, let's decriminalize all the other substances that are now banned. Why did the people of a supposedly free country ever allow the State to dictate what they may or may not put in their bodies? Who owns our bodies, we or the State? America's drug laws are only about a century old and of a racist impulse. Their origin is in the early anti-opium laws intended to harass Chinese immigrants. Prior to then, Americans were pretty much free to do with their bodies as they pleased. Drug addiction was no worse than today, and society was free of the violence and corruption caused by hysterical drug prohibition.
Tobacco and alcohol are a far greater health hazard, yet both are tolerated, if not celebrated. We needn't search far to find wildly popular substances that have created a national health calamity. Sugar, Aspartame, high fructose corn syrup, MSG and hydrogenated fats, all found in the most common processed "foods" are a leading cause of disease and death in America. Yet children are willfully exposed to these poisons and no one is serving jail time for doing so. Our meat is pumped full of dangerous hormones and antibiotics and our crops are raised using toxic, nutrient depleting, artificial fertilizers and pesticides. Our drinking water is now laced with prescription drugs peddled to a gullible public desperate for a quick fix to disease caused by their unhealthy eating habits. Yet our "public servants" are annually wasting tens of billions of taxpayers' money jailing people for what they smoke, snort and shoot into their veins. This is institutional hypocrisy and national madness on an epic scale.
Today we are appalled that our ancestors tortured and burned people at the stake for being "witches." Years from now enlightened people will shake their heads in disbelief that Americans gutted their precious Bill of Rights so that busybodies could punish millions of people for what they put in their bodies.
Forget about legalization of marijuana. Let's move on to decriminalization. And while we're at it, let's decriminalize all the other substances that are now banned. Why did the people of a supposedly free country ever allow the State to dictate what they may or may not put in their bodies? Who owns our bodies, we or the State? America's drug laws are only about a century old and of a racist impulse. Their origin is in the early anti-opium laws intended to harass Chinese immigrants. Prior to then, Americans were pretty much free to do with their bodies as they pleased. Drug addiction was no worse than today, and society was free of the violence and corruption caused by hysterical drug prohibition.
Tobacco and alcohol are a far greater health hazard, yet both are tolerated, if not celebrated. We needn't search far to find wildly popular substances that have created a national health calamity. Sugar, Aspartame, high fructose corn syrup, MSG and hydrogenated fats, all found in the most common processed "foods" are a leading cause of disease and death in America. Yet children are willfully exposed to these poisons and no one is serving jail time for doing so. Our meat is pumped full of dangerous hormones and antibiotics and our crops are raised using toxic, nutrient depleting, artificial fertilizers and pesticides. Our drinking water is now laced with prescription drugs peddled to a gullible public desperate for a quick fix to disease caused by their unhealthy eating habits. Yet our "public servants" are annually wasting tens of billions of taxpayers' money jailing people for what they smoke, snort and shoot into their veins. This is institutional hypocrisy and national madness on an epic scale.
Today we are appalled that our ancestors tortured and burned people at the stake for being "witches." Years from now enlightened people will shake their heads in disbelief that Americans gutted their precious Bill of Rights so that busybodies could punish millions of people for what they put in their bodies.
Wednesday, May 06, 2009
Rancid soup for the soul
Today, at the grocery store, I unloaded my basket at the checkout, and placed it at the foot of the counter, as all shoppers do. The thin, beady-eyed young girl (for reference purposes, henceforth known as troll) behind the register started a conversation with me, and it went like this:
Troll: "Put it back".
Chris: "Excuse me?"
Troll: "Put it back. The basket. Put it back where you found it".
Chris: "Oh, you mean take this basket back to the door with all my groceries? No, it can stay right there".
Troll: "This job is hard enough without having to clean up after the messes people make".
Chris: "Isnt that part of your job? Stacking the baskets at the door when shoppers leave them at the checkout?"
Troll: "Umm, Ive been here since 1 and I'm really tired."
Chris: "I hate my job too, but I've never heard of other grocery stores asking shoppers to bring their baskets back to the door."
Troll: "Well, Im sure that in other grocery stores it pisses the workers off just as much, but they just dont say anything."
Chris: "Awwww, are you having a rough day? Do you hate your job? My day was no picnic either, and thanks to your crappy attitude, you've just made both our days a little bit worse."
*****Awkward silence*******
When I become der Fuhrer, the first load of people stuffed into the gas chambers will be the ones with an overdeveloped sense of entitlement, followed closely by those with chip-laden shoulders.
Troll: "Put it back".
Chris: "Excuse me?"
Troll: "Put it back. The basket. Put it back where you found it".
Chris: "Oh, you mean take this basket back to the door with all my groceries? No, it can stay right there".
Troll: "This job is hard enough without having to clean up after the messes people make".
Chris: "Isnt that part of your job? Stacking the baskets at the door when shoppers leave them at the checkout?"
Troll: "Umm, Ive been here since 1 and I'm really tired."
Chris: "I hate my job too, but I've never heard of other grocery stores asking shoppers to bring their baskets back to the door."
Troll: "Well, Im sure that in other grocery stores it pisses the workers off just as much, but they just dont say anything."
Chris: "Awwww, are you having a rough day? Do you hate your job? My day was no picnic either, and thanks to your crappy attitude, you've just made both our days a little bit worse."
*****Awkward silence*******
When I become der Fuhrer, the first load of people stuffed into the gas chambers will be the ones with an overdeveloped sense of entitlement, followed closely by those with chip-laden shoulders.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
By the pool
Beauty all around, everywhere - in the trees that sway lightly, like ocean waves; in the rich colors of late afternoon as the retreating sun makes the east a shadowless perfection of evenly throbbing light; in the slightly dusty haze that comes with the approach of evening, dry and cool; in her hair as the wind travels through it as slowly as a boat in polar seas. And all the memories summoned by these beauties resonate and sing, until, in their ecstatic multiplication, they close themselves off to mortal view by virtue of the light that is too bright to see.
Endless summer, endless love. That's all I've ever wanted, to walk in such a place with you.
Endless summer, endless love. That's all I've ever wanted, to walk in such a place with you.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Monday, March 16, 2009
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Vain babbling
This morning while I was on the freeway I was picking my nose, really digging in there for about 2 minutes. I looked over and the girl in the next car was laughing at me. She gave me a thumbs up, because I always look good, even when I’m picking my nose.
Next, when I walked into the office, I found a rather large moth clinging to the wall. I poked it and called it’s name (moth, moth), but it was unresponsive. I cradled it in my palm and stroked it’s furry back, crooning softly and willing it to wake up. It finally stirred, either due to the heat from my hand or my spiritual bond with animals and insects, I can’t be sure which. My lepidopteratic friend began to flap its wings in anticipation of joyous flight into the morning as I murmured encouragement. At last, it burst from my palm and began to fly drunkenly in slowly tightening circles. I then realized that my fingers had destroyed the tiny scales on its wings, dooming it to forever crawl the earth, gazing into the sky and cursing the misguided good Samaritan who crippled it. I asked myself what Bear Grylls would do, and I knew immediately. With a heavy heart I plucked the poor creature from the sky, and ate it for breakfast.
Next, when I walked into the office, I found a rather large moth clinging to the wall. I poked it and called it’s name (moth, moth), but it was unresponsive. I cradled it in my palm and stroked it’s furry back, crooning softly and willing it to wake up. It finally stirred, either due to the heat from my hand or my spiritual bond with animals and insects, I can’t be sure which. My lepidopteratic friend began to flap its wings in anticipation of joyous flight into the morning as I murmured encouragement. At last, it burst from my palm and began to fly drunkenly in slowly tightening circles. I then realized that my fingers had destroyed the tiny scales on its wings, dooming it to forever crawl the earth, gazing into the sky and cursing the misguided good Samaritan who crippled it. I asked myself what Bear Grylls would do, and I knew immediately. With a heavy heart I plucked the poor creature from the sky, and ate it for breakfast.
Sunday, March 01, 2009
Your Attention Please
The only thing able to pull me out of my non-posting slump was the birthday of dear Adrianne. I love you haney, for so long you've been my best friend, confidante, and shoulder. I love you dearly and hope for only the best things for you in the coming year.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Recent activities
Some pens were scattered around on my desk. I picked them up one by one. I placed the pens in the drawer which I use to store pens.
I then stood up, at a central point in the room. The walls were all at approximately the same distance from me. I continued to stand there for a few moments.
My knee had a slight itch. I reached out my hand and scratched the knee in question. The itch was relieved and I was able to continue with my activities. There was an object occupying a space on my table. Using my hand I picked up the item from its place. Having considered my options for a moment I placed the object on a different area of the table. I was standing quite near to a wall. I turned my attention towards it for a few moments. Having done this for several seconds I turned away from it and carried on doing something else.
I then stood up, at a central point in the room. The walls were all at approximately the same distance from me. I continued to stand there for a few moments.
My knee had a slight itch. I reached out my hand and scratched the knee in question. The itch was relieved and I was able to continue with my activities. There was an object occupying a space on my table. Using my hand I picked up the item from its place. Having considered my options for a moment I placed the object on a different area of the table. I was standing quite near to a wall. I turned my attention towards it for a few moments. Having done this for several seconds I turned away from it and carried on doing something else.
Friday, February 06, 2009
Kathy's Song
Eva Cassidy did a great version of this song. That's her playing guitar, too.
I hear the drizzle of the rain
Like a memory it falls
Soft and warm, continuing
tapping on my roof and walls
From the shelter of my mind
through the window of my eyes
I gaze beyond the rain drenched streets
To you, where my heart lies
My mind's distracted and diffused
my thoughts are many miles away
they lie with you when youre asleep
and kiss you when you start your day
So you see I have come to doubt
All that I once held was true
I stand alone without belief
the only truth I know is you
And as I watch the drops of rain
weave their weary paths and die
I know that I am like the rain
there, but for the grace of you, go I
I hear the drizzle of the rain
Like a memory it falls
Soft and warm, continuing
tapping on my roof and walls
From the shelter of my mind
through the window of my eyes
I gaze beyond the rain drenched streets
To you, where my heart lies
My mind's distracted and diffused
my thoughts are many miles away
they lie with you when youre asleep
and kiss you when you start your day
So you see I have come to doubt
All that I once held was true
I stand alone without belief
the only truth I know is you
And as I watch the drops of rain
weave their weary paths and die
I know that I am like the rain
there, but for the grace of you, go I
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
California dreaming
I feel them trying to stifle me, the hands of corporate America on my shoulders. Maybe Im crazy, perhaps my feelings are as old as time. I can imagine cro-magnon man reluctantly waking up with the dawn, cursing the great lizard that swallows the sun at night and then poops it out again the next morning. Im sitting here staring at 361 unread emails, and contemplating pouring my coffee into the top of the monitor.
I think about the wind ripping joyfully over the top of the mountain, as the ones I love and me sit with legs dangling, my heart bursting with the beauty that surrounds me. I want to drink the cool air and feel alive again.
In plain english, Im back from the best vacation of my life and feeling a tad sorry for myself.
As painful as it may be to come back to the real world, I know that life isnt meant to be a permanent vacation. Without 361 emails and screaming malcontents at work, how could I ever appreciate the sublime beauty of those mountain getaways.
I think about the wind ripping joyfully over the top of the mountain, as the ones I love and me sit with legs dangling, my heart bursting with the beauty that surrounds me. I want to drink the cool air and feel alive again.
In plain english, Im back from the best vacation of my life and feeling a tad sorry for myself.
As painful as it may be to come back to the real world, I know that life isnt meant to be a permanent vacation. Without 361 emails and screaming malcontents at work, how could I ever appreciate the sublime beauty of those mountain getaways.
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