Bear Tracks

Mathgamhain Nua (Neo-Bear)

2009-07-12T20:40:00.003-04:00

At precisely one minute after midnight on the morning of 9 July, two things happened; I turned 50 years old, and I ended my one year life experiment entitled 'Dying Practice' which I have chronicled in my Dying Practice Blog/Journal.

My actual dying practice will only ever really end with my death... as dying is everything leading up to death, and death requires no practice at all.. once I am dead, death will take care of itself.

Until that time, however, every moment is a moment during which I can try to copy my good actions rather than my unskillful ones, or perhaps create new skillful or good actions. By using the terms good/bad, skillful/unskillful, etc., I am, of course falling into the trap of dualism, however, being a human being, and selecting a blog within which I choose to express myself via the medium of words.. I am stuck with words and with all of the associated attributes that come with words.. so, what am I to do with that other than my best?? In any case, 'good' and 'bad' are not making reference to some absolute benchmark, or to something defined by religious doctrine, law, or any other contrived or constructed measure. By good or bad, skillful or unskillful.. I simply mean that, when presented with a moment... or a moment within a moment.. that I am mindful and wise enough to choose the most appropriate response available to me according the to the true function of the moment.

Living authentically and fully is a stream of such choices... every inbreath and every outbreath offers a host of such choices... but, if we focus on this too closely, we become paralyzed by the sheer insurmountability of the myriad details!

So. How do I proceed?

I sleep when I am tired. Eat when I am hungry. Drink when I am thirsty. When I walk.. I just walk.. that's all. When I love, or laugh, or cry, or simply be... I dissolve completely into that moment, and give myself up entirely into it.

This is what I have learned... so, now comes the tough part. I must practice actually doing it... with every breath... without getting stuck... like a stream flowing... or like a silken scarf sliding off the edge of a glass table..

No hesitation.. just respond appropriately to whatever life unfolds.

Ha! What a crock of bullshit!! And yet, I shall try....

I think I can do it... I am new now. And improved!!

I will be sharing my thoughts from here once again from this day onward, and no longer on my Dying Practice Blog.

I wonder if any of you will come back to visit me?

Some advice...

2009-01-08T18:16:00.002-05:00

**Keep moving forward! NEVER look back!!**

..... Somethin' might be gaining on ya!

Surprise!!

2008-10-31T10:58:00.006-04:00

I woke up this morning, got dressed, and headed in to work. When I arrived, I walked over to the time-clock to punch in, but, much to my surprise, there was no longer a time-card with my name on it. Strangely, the bin which usually contains all of the blank time-cards was conspicuously empty. (!?!?!)

As I stood there, mulling over the possible ramifications of this situation, one of my more senior co-workers approached, with his best funeral-director face on, and informed me not to punch in (as though I could!!), and to just sit tight for a while, as the owner of the company wanted to talk to a few of us...... (That didn't sound good!).

I stood around like a knob for a while, and then the intercom announced an incoming telephone call for the shop foreman... (this has never happened in all of the time I have been there... so it certainly seemed significant....)

At this point, I send my wife a brief text message over the cell phone, as follows: "Luv U- Lookin like I may not hav a job wont know till mike comes in this sucks"

Sure enough, the foreman went from person to person, had a brief conversation, faces went from surprise, to shock, to sadness... shoulders slumped, and folks headed for their individual work areas and began to collect their belongings..... I knew the axe had fallen when he headed in my direction.

"Mike just called... I really hate to have the be the one to do this... he always does this to me... Well, you don't work here any more... They discussed the situation, we are dead... there isn't any work... and, well, they don't have any need of your services any more.... your last check is in the mail. I'm sorry, I really like you.... Whenever he has to let people go, he disappears, and I am always the one who has to do it...."

So... that was it. No job. Surprise!

I went around and shook everyone's hand, wished them well... packed up my few things, and headed out on the lonely drive home.

Anybody hiring??

Dying Practice

2008-06-08T13:00:00.004-04:00

In one month, I intend to begin a year-long 'dying practice'. I have initiate a separate blog in order to explain and chronicle my experiences. Anyone who is interested in following my progress, or in joining me in this practice may view the blog here. The blog is entitled "A Year To Live" and the title is borrowed from the book of the same tite written by Mr. Stephen Levine, from whom I will be drawing much of the material for my practice. I highly recommend the book. I don't intend to go into the why's and wherefore's of the practice on this blog...that is the purpose of the other blog, after all! However, for those of you who may be interested, you are welcome pop on over!

The Harkonnen Kid

2008-05-03T23:09:00.002-04:00

I tended bar at a communion today.. it was a decent group of folks, and the shift passed uneventfully... for the most part.

There was a little boy at the party who struck me as slightly... um... ~~psychotic~~ peculiar.

For one thing, he remained aloof from all of the other children, choosing not to play with them, talk to them, or, for that matter, any where near them.

As soon as he walked into the room where the party was being held, he walked directly up to the mirrored post that was actually touching the front corner of my bar, placed his nose against the glass, and began talking to himself.

For the first minute or so, it didn't seem all that strange... it was a 'kid' thing to do....

After about five minutes had passed, it started to seem a bit odd to me, to be honest. To be frank, I began to wish that he would stop that and go away..

I asked him, "See anybody familiar in there?"

He rolled one baleful eye in my direction, fixed a rather bland, lifeless ~~insane~~ uninterested stare on me for a few moments, and, apparently deciding that I did not rate a reply simply returned to his 'conversation'.

He began to wiggle and squirm... all the while talking and whispering to himself at extreme close-up.... then he began to kiss himself...

This sort of put me off.... it seemed disturbing in some vague, non-specific way... (kill your entire family!! Kill them ALL!!) so I decided to turn my attention elsewhere. I busied myself with the myriad tasks of tending bar for a number of people... serving drinks, doing sidework and the constant cleanup and maintenance that is necessary to keep the bar spotless (I like to work behind a clean bar... not a swamp....).

After about 30 minutes or so, I checked on the kid... mostly in the mis-guided hope, I suppose, that he had quit doing whatever the frig that was and had moved on to eat the plastic plants or steal from his granny's purse, or whatever it is that disturbingly weird kids do to pacify themselves... but, sadly, he was still at his post (literally), but now he was licking the mirror and sort of humping the post... this is in full view, mind you, of a room of perhaps one hundred people...

At this point, several small blood vessels in my eyes and brain ruptured and began to bleed and my skin began to crawl... the kid was freakin' me out!!

The party chugged along, with guests dancing, eating, laughing, drinking and socializing... all of the things that one would expect to see happening at a party... and good old Tom (the kid), simply stood there... a scant three feet away from me.... and gave his mirror image a tongue-bath and a good sound humping while he constantly whispered sweet nothings to himself...

I'm not really sure what that whole thing was about, but I am glad that I am not that kid's mirror... stuffed animal... live animal.... or anything else..

I drew a picture of him, which is above. It was drawn with the mouse, so its a wee bit wonky... but its a fair likeness nonetheless... this way, when he appears on CNN after whatever tragic occurrence he orchestrates, you will be able to recognize him!

There. I have done my civic duty; You have been warned.

Goodnight, and thank you for playing!!

Good EVE-en-ing!!

The Jury is Still Out... but...

2008-04-20T11:01:00.002-04:00

Upon completing the first full week of work at my new job, I must admit that the jury is still out insofar as my overall pronouncement of judgment is concerned. There are things I like, and things that I am not quite so keen on... All in all I like the job, and, truth be told I am happy to have a job (the bills don't pay themselves!). As far as this job being THE Job?? -- I'm not really sure yet.. I do have a list of pros and cons;

PRO: The people are calm, proficient, and kind - no need to unravel the intricate knots of office politics here... particularly since, due to the sound of machinery running the entire day, one cannot hear what anyone else is saying unless they are literally closer than arm's length!
CON: The pay is not really very good as it stands right now.
PRO: They pay should increase as I learn the skills that will make me a more valuable member of the crew.
CON: I have no idea how long this timetable of learning and earning will take - and I can ill afford to remain at this pay level for very long...
PRO: The 'supposed' upward end of the pay scale for this job is pretty decent.
CON: There is no guarantee that I will ever see this upward end of the pay scale. I can only try.
PRO: I am more or less left alone to do my work.
CON: I am required to engage in a constant and intense level of physical activity that I have, apparently, become quite unaccustomed to.. every cell of my body is shrieking in pain.
PRO: I am on the long upward climb back to a semblance of fitness... I find that I probably don't really need to be sitting on my ass getting fat and out of shape all day... so that I can come home feeling sluggish and sit on the couch where I can get even more fat and more out of shape!
CON: I am on my feet the entire day.
PRO: I am burning calories the entire day. (It occurs to me that if I am actually burning calories and expending enough energy to lose a little weight ((which, honestly, I could well afford to lose..)) standing on my feet all day won't be so bad - since I won't be carrying so much weight on them!)
CON: I am no longer able to attend the early morning sittings at the Zen Center. I quite enjoy starting the work week with meditation practice, and find that the lack of practice leaves a void that I find disturbing.
PRO: I am busting my ass and hopefully will be in a good position to request permission to come in a wee bit late on practice days at the Zendo.. perhaps I can make up the time or they will simply write it off.
CON: I feel like a bit of a loser, starting from scratch at this stage of the game. Every job I have taken has seemed like a fantastic opportunity at first... and as time wore on, I came to realize that I had swallowed some line and that there was really no opportunity at all; unless you call a dead-end, go nowhere, be verbally abused and exploited type of position a golden opportunity! Somewhere in the dark, dank, sub-sub-basement of my mind I harbor a suspicion that I have been scammed again, and that I will one day wake up to discover that I am a fool who has dove in hook, line & sinker for another bullshit story... and it doesn't do a great deal for my self-respect, truth be known....
PRO: Nothing ventured, nothing gained. All I can do is use my best judgment, put forth my best effort, and trust in my boss to reward it. I can always leave and do something else. Maybe trusting in others... even if that trust turns out to be ill-placed, isn't exactly a portrait of my character; after all, I can only know what my senses offer as clues for me to process... and as more and more comes to light, perceptions are adjusted to reflect a more and more accurate picture of the situation. In this case, my best course of action is to do a good job and hope that the needs of the company will match with my needs in a timely fashion. At least for now, I have a place to get up and go to each day... and a paycheck at the end of the week. Hopefully, my body will quickly strengthen and I my energy levels will begin to increase... that's a benefit all by itself!!

So... that is my current assessment of the new job. I realized as I was working in the garden yesterday, under the sunshine, that there was a noticeable lack of dread concerning the Monday morning return to work. In my last position, although I enjoyed the work, and even my stupid cubicle, I had to put up with a great deal of verbal and mental abuse... and it wasn't really all that pleasant.... that is, thankfully (at least for now!), missing at this job; the people are surprisingly congenial and friendly... so I am happy for that. It nearly makes the pay-cut worth it!! (I probably would have paid the money to make the nonsense go away at the last job had I been offered the chance!).

Tomorrow starts a new work week. I am somewhat more comfortable now, I know (more or less) what I am doing and what is expected of me in my little piece of the process, and I don't really mind the prospect of getting up and going to work. This is much better than fighting my sub-conscious inclination to find some excuse to stay home in order to avoid the nastiness and unpleasant dispositions that I knew I was going to be confronted with!

Not too shabby, now that I think about it! HA!

First Day...

2008-04-14T17:06:00.003-04:00

I am home from my first day at the new job. The people are very nice, so far.. which is a pleasant surprise...

I had a great deal thrown at me, and unimaginable amounts of stuff to learn yet (I am starting at the bottom of the ladder... this is a new thing entirely for me.. so this was expected).

The job entails a great deal of time spent standing, and a lot of lifting, carrying, bending and stooping... so I am a little smoked; I will have to acclimate to this having spent a good while at a job where I sat in a chair the entire day.

Tomorrow, I expect I will be sore... and Wednesday will probably be worse!! But, this is part of the deal... I have been through this process before (the physical process of acclimating to a higher level of activity), so I know what I can expect... I don't look forward to it, but I am not averse to it either.

The first three months or so will more or less suck, and then it wont be as noticable... all in all, I like the job, and I think I will do okay here... Of course, I am still on the new guy 'honeymoon', so its hard to tell, yet... at first glance, though, I think it will all work out pretty well.

Sunday Morning Thoughts...

2008-04-13T08:23:00.003-04:00

I woke up this morning to bright sunshine streaming in through the windows.. the air is unbelievably clear this morning!! Everywhere I look, there are signs of spring, and new life...

This, (naturally, I suppose..) caused me to turn my thoughts to my own new life... well, my new *working* life, anyway; I start my new job tomorrow!

This is all new to me, which is exciting, to some degree...but a little bit stressful (which is probably good.. it lets me know that I am approaching the situation with due seriousness.. or something). I have come to realize, in this month of searching for work, how much times have changed while I was not paying attention. Also, I have come to realize that I have reached an age where my age becomes a wee bit of an issue to some folks... (this struck me as a somewhat unpleasant and un-looked-for surprise!) - the bottom line here folks, is that I can't just waltz into a job so easily... people aren't prepared to hire me simply because I am *me*. I cannot necessarily count on finding a decent job very quickly if I happen to find myself suddenly unemployed... and this situation is unlikely to improve with time.. at least under my present circumstances.

So... to put it lightly, it is a sobering thought.

Accordingly, I am not walking into my new job with a cavalier attitude, at all!! I am taking it quite seriously, and it is my stated intention to remain diligent, to work hard, and to find that balance between pleasing the boss, and not pissing off my co-workers... (not such an easy balance to achieve, I think.. but hopefully, still possible..).

I am very much hoping that I am not walking into yet another situation that appears, on first glance, to be a great job, but which, once the shine wears off, is simply another slog job that is fairly miserable and which will get me absolutely nowhere.. no matter *how* hard I work... or, a job where I am forced to deal with at least one person who has such a hideous control issue that it renders them nearly insufferable.
Rather, I am hoping against all odds that I have finally found a job where the drama is minimal, where I am given the tools, knowledge, and information necessary to excel if I am willing to put forth the effort to do so... and, if I *do* excel, it is recognized, without fanfare, and rewarded appropriately.

Lastly, I am hoping that the crew with whom I will be working will be happy to have me as an addition to the team.. as a welcome and appreciated member... and that they will not resent me, sight unseen, for some unfathomable and indecipherable reason or reasons as has happened at previous jobs... (I don't understand this penchant at all... it seems that so long as someone is willing to do their work and contribute to the group effort, that they would be welcomed at least as a fellow worker.. if not as a friend or social acquaintance... I can appreciate a co-workers efforts, even if that person is not someone with whom I would not generally choose to associate outside of the workplace... its confusing!! Anyway... I suppose I am reacting to this confusion by hoping that I will no longer be confronted with it...)
(Brief Explanation: in my previous job, my co-worker was extremely unpleasant towards me. I was told by other workers that this person reacted negatively to the very concept that an additional position was being created, so, essentially, the prejudicial view was not directed at me personally, but to the position that I would occupy... so, how do you deal with *that*??! Answer: I have no f*cking idea... you suffer, basically... it sucks. Period. -- this is why I am fervently hoping that this situation will not be present in my new job. I have dealt with it for longer than I ever would have hoped to in my lifetime.)

I expect to be starting at the bottom rung of the ladder, and I am cool with that... I don't mind paying my dues... actually, I prefer it, particularly if every other member of the crew had to do so... in this way, I remain on an equal footing with everyone else and avoid the resentment that would otherwise be generated. Also, by working hard and by dealing with the challenging bits without complaint, I am afforded a chance to show my mettle, and to earn some measure of respect. This was how it worked in an infantry squad, and I am fairly sure that this translates very well to any group of workers; New Guy gets the crap jobs... and is watched and evaluated under those circumstances... if he does well, he is moved on to bigger and better things... The good side of the crap jobs is that they are generally fairly cut and dried; you don't have to go crazy trying to figure out what it is that you have to do... clean up the stuff, carry the heavy shit.. etc. -- So long as you don't mind busting your ass, you can find a measure of peace in the work. This is a *good* thing!

At any rate, I have all of today to relax, to collect my thoughts, and to enjoy simply *being*. Tomorrow I start my new job, and I can look forward to learning a great deal, and, hopefully, to a whole bunch of new challenges.

Bring it on!

So... Now What??

2008-04-11T14:21:00.002-04:00

I am sitting on the precipice of a new career.... again!! ... it is that moment when one set of routines is ended... most of what is familiar is gone... and I will be walking into an entirely new set of circumstances.

This is not a case of leaving one office job, one desk, one computer, file cabinet, phone, and whatnot and walking into another different, but similar office job... with a desk, and a computer... a file cabinet, phone... and all the other crap that is essentially the same wherever you go.

I am starting an *entirely* different career field... I will be training, as an apprentice, learning a skill... I will be working in a shop, and not at an office...

This is not entirely unprecedented, as I have worked in a great variety of different occupations, and have learned to quickly adapt to whatever set of circumstances I am confronted with...

... and yet..

Here I stand... not knowing what to expect... not knowing what will happen... what my days will be like... what sort of routine I will follow.... nothing!! I find myself in that strange drunkard's tightrope walk between freedom and the excitement of new things to come; and fear of the unknown and a shrieking, helpless plummet into certain death!! It is exhilarating....in a way... certainly thought provoking... and it most definitely stirs my curiosity!

... but the cynical part of my brain simply wonders what sort of shit I will ultimately be forced to deal with.... what sort of people I will be working with, and whether there will be problems and issues, or whether it will go swimmingly well... I find myself wondering if I am falling for some load of crap, and will find myself shaking my head and wondering how I could have been such a sucker... and simultaneously hoping that it will be *the job* that I hope it is.. and that all of the hopes that I have will be realized; that I will be judged solely upon my performance... that hard work will be recognized and rewarded, and that I am limited only by my own reluctance to put forth effort to succeed.

Hope is a funny thing... I remember seeing a show on one of the Geek channels where a former interrogator from the KGB was being interviewed. It seems that this particular chap was responsible for eliciting a huge number of confessions from suspected spies... all of whom were subsequently executed for their crimes. Although some interrogators certainly used torture or other unsavory methods of obtaining confessions, it was submitted that our man did not, in fact, resort to such measures.

The interviewer, incredulous at this claim that such a huge number of otherwise intelligent and self-protective individuals would willingly confess to crimes that would most certainly be punished by a firing squad would agree to set down, on paper -- to memorialize treasonous crimes that they had perpetrated, and towards which their government took an exceedingly dim view.. to this man who quietly asserted that he did no more than engage these suspects in conversation.. that he never so much as deprived them of sleep, insulted them.. or even raised his voice to them!!

The interviewer asked whether this former KGB interrogator would care to explain how he so successfully pursued his goals... and was, thereby, instrumental in the deaths of hundreds, if not thousands, of individuals?

The former KGB man cleared his throat, and very quietly explained that he would simply outline the nature of the crime that the accused was facing...explaining that they would almost certainly be executed. He said that he told each of them that there was essentially no chance of avoiding this fate... that they could pretty much count on facing a firing squad for their crimes. He would then say to them that, even though he did not feel that his influence would help them in any way, that if they wished, they could cooperate fully, throw themselves at the mercy of the court or tribunal, and that he would promise to inform the judge that they had given him their full cooperation. He admitted that, although he didn't think it would make any difference, it was really the only avenue that was available to them. In every single case... 100% of the time... the subjects gave him a full written confession... and were then found guilty, sentenced to death... and executed.

When the interviewer... after a brief, but awkward, silence, asked whether the interrogator had any idea why people would do this... essentially sign their own death warrant by admitting to capital crimes... so reliably; in fact, in every single instance!! His answer to this was, very simply, "There are no upward limits to the capacity for hope in human beings. They harbored a hope that they would somehow escape their fate, and they were willing to try any possible method afforded them to do so."

Facing certain death... they so hoped for reprieve that they were willing to try anything at all... and he gave them just one option; and so they took it, thereby sealing their fate. EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.!

Obviously, it is my concern that my hope may be blinding me to the reality of my circumstances...

Since we have not yet found a method by which we can reliably look into the future and prognosticate events that are yet to come... I am left with the conventional method; Going forth into the unknown.. and experiencing whatever the moment unfolds to me.

And I find that I *still* hope that it will work out well for me.....

I went to meet my wife for lunch today... she is going away for the weekend to visit her sister, and it was last time that I will see her until she returns, since I will be working my second job when she arrives home from work, changes her clothes, packs her suitcase, and heads out to the airport. I won't return home until she is already at her destination....

.. as we ate our lunch, we discussed our day with one another, and the conversation turned to the various penchants and idiosyncrasies of those that we work for, and with... we pointed out, with ironic.. and sometimes black humor.. the strange issues and habits of former (and in her case.. current) bosses... co-workers, clients.. etc.

Why *do* people act in ways that are almost certainly not in the best interest of themselves or of the company??

I had a boss who would spend literally 20 to 30 minutes railing and ranting at me for asking a question that wasted no more than 15 seconds of his time!! It may be that my question was ill thought... or that it was a superfluous or otherwise unnecessary question (it/they wasn't/weren't!!) - but, it would stand to reason that if I am asking, I need to know!! I need to know not for my own interests and gain... but in order for me to perform my duties and responsibilities which are beneficial to everyone... since a business that is not performing properly will not long remain in business... and nobody will, consequently, have a place to work any longer!!

She has a boss that is deliberately antagonistic to the new employees in the company... and then he is somewhat mystified when they leave within a relatively short period of time...

I can go on... but everyone has experienced various examples of this type of behavior.

It seems somehow dreary and gloomy to my mind that we are forced by a necessity to earn a living, to have to deal with the neuroticisms, narcissism, control and/or power issues, obsessions, quirks, peeves, rudeness, cruelty and other random effluvia of other people's minds and lives. It is mildly depressing, actually... if I let myself focus on it... because it seems that no matter where you work, you have to deal with someone else's weirdness and someone else's shit! (as if our own bullshit isn't enough to have to deal with!!)

I suppose it is just part of the price of getting by... and since we can't much change it... those of us who are forced to work in a one-down sort of position, anyway.... we have to learn to accept it, and to find a measure of peace with it... or resolve ourselves to being unsatisfied, frustrated, and miserable.

Naturally, neither of us pose these questions with any realistic hope of actually getting or finding an answer... and even if we did, I don't think it would much matter!! -- i.e., Q: "Why are you being such a dick??" A: "Because I can. Feel better now??"

It was more of a way of expressing our thoughts and feelings about this difficulty that we share with so many other folks.. and perhaps finding a way to laugh at it.

Nonetheless.... standing here, on the cusp of a new era in my life, I find myself smack in the middle between Unlimited Hope... and fear of the underlying realities that I may be called upon to face.

All in all, I am looking forward to getting started.

This weekend will be for me, more or less... a contemplative retreat. I may write... I may sit... I may walk... but I will most certainly be silent... and spending much.. if not most.. of the time within the confines of my own head.

It is my plan to do my utmost to succeed at this new position. I want to learn and advance as rapidly as I am capable of doing... I want to increase my income potential to maximum extent possible, in the shortest possible time...and I *so* dearly hope that this is a legitimate situation, in which my efforts will result in some measure of success for me...rather than bitter disappointment, or fruitless efforts... I just want to do a great job, and be fairly compensated for doing so... rather than unfairly ridiculed or belittled by some abusive asshole with an inferiority complex.. To my mind, when I shake somebody's hand and accept a position, I am making a bargain... giving my word... that I will see to the interests of the company as though they were my own (well... they are, in a way!!), that I will be honest, reliable, dutiful, meticulous, and that I will do what I must to ensure that the job gets done in a timely and efficient manner. The other side of this two-way street is that I will be paid for my efforts, treated with at least a modicum of respect and courtesy, that I will not be unnecessarily exposed to danger or injurious circumstances, that I will not be asked to violate the law, and that I will be recognized for my efforts and promoted or compensated for them when such promotion or increased compensation is warranted and/or possible. I don't think it is a great deal to hope for, all things considered...

Wow... it's like I see it almost as a real JOB or something!!

In any case... I needed work, and I have found it. So.. I am happy with that....

Monday is a new beginning for me... I find myself wondering what will happen next?? Its sort of exciting, when you stop to think about it!!

Gainful Employment

2008-04-10T22:31:00.003-04:00

Update - I received a job offer today for the position that I was vacillating about in my previous post. I have accepted, and start on Monday morning.

It came just in time, too...... that was a close one!

It can be hard to read the signs sometimes....

2008-04-08T14:40:00.012-04:00

I went on a job interview today... I left with mixed feelings. I have had a running conversation going on in my head since I walked out the door.

"Well... he seems to like you!"

"Mmmm... not sure if it matters... the pay is pretty low..."

"Well, yeah... but only to start..."

"It'll be a while before it changes!"

"But it *will* change... besides... it's up to you!"

"Up to me??!"

"Of course!! Work hard, don't f*ck around, learn what you have to learn... and do a good job... he *said* he would reward good work/profitable performance as soon as he sees it... that he wouldn't wait!"

"Talk is cheap though..."

"Yeah.. it *is*... but he's in business to make money... if you learn to do the job, and do a good job, he will want to keep you... everybody there has been there a while... the shop is clean, everybody looked competent... it seems like a decent place to work!"

"But the pay really *SUCKS*!!"

"Your paycheck right now ain't lookin' much better, tough guy!!"

[BLUSH] - "No.... it isn't looking much better at all..."

"The phone ain't exactly ringing off the hook.... maybe the world is trying to send you a message... you need to do something different... and you need to start NOW!!"

"Yeah... but, it isn't the most glamorous job...."

"And every other job you had was?? It's honest work... and there aren't layoffs... he will recognize your effort, and reward it with better wages... plus, he said something about a benefit package that kicks in after 90 days!!"

"It probably sucks as much as the starting salary..."

"Asshole! Listen! You don't have *ANY* friggin' benefits... this job will provide you with steady work... it's about ten minutes away from your house, you don't have to use your personal vehicle, you aren't on a ladder or in a hole, or in the rain... and if you manage to learn this stuff and actually get good at it... you can make some decent money after a few years!! *DO* you have a better plan in the works??? You like sitting in front of your computer all day like a f*ck-in KNOB all day looking for work???"

"Not really, no... I feel like a loser...."

"... yeah... you feel like a loser... poor you! From where I'm standing... you're pretty much looking like a loser, too! an *unemployed* loser... so what are you going to do??"

"I'm not sure I can make it on what they're offering.... it's not good.... the money is tight..."

"Dick!! The money is friggin' RUNNING OUT right now.... you *can* make it, actually... you will just have to tighten up your belt for a while... besides, it won't last forever.... work your ass off, and you will make more money. Once you are an asset, they will want to keep you... this makes good business sense!! It's worth a try at least.... .. isn't it??"

"Once I commit to this... I won't be able to find anything better...."

"You won't be able to sit in front of your computer all day, you mean.... or poring over a newspaper...looking at all the marvelous opportunities.... culling through the PILES & PILES OF JOB OFFERS that you are getting all the time in order to choose just the right one, ay??"

"You don't have be so friggin' sarcastic... after all, you're me too, you know..."

"I think I do... you are hoping for something to be handed to you on a platter... all neat and tidy and ready to go... and I don't see that happening.... this is a chance to learn a trade... if the guy is a bullshit artist, you will still be making enough money to get by... until you find something else. The guy seemed ready to hire you on the spot.... from what I could see there, it doesn't seem like anybody in that place wants to judge you on anything except your job performance.... what the hell more do you expect?? You aren't working in filth... there are no dangerous chemicals.... the hours aren't awful... it's a job... you need to work.... the economy is tanking... and the company has been in business steadily for 25 years..."

"I'll be starting from scratch.... I don't know a thing about the job..."

"They're willing to train you.... besides, it's better to start from scratch at a new trade than starting from scratch looking for a place to live because you can't pay the bills.. isn't it??"

"It all sounds great when you put it that way... but I keep coming back to the money... and to the fact that the job probably becomes tedious after a while..."

"Yeah... the money is a big concern... but you have hope to improve it... and as far as the tedium?? Well, you never, ever, in all of your life before today... ever got up, shaved, washed, and dressed to go to FUN!! Did you??! It's a JOB.. and you can DO IT!! You can make some money, learn and improve... make more money, and maybe go to school down the road.. once you are earning a bit more... or find some other work if it becomes available.... this isn't a sentence... there are no contracts holding you there... if it doesn't work out, you will be right back where you are right now.... so what's the problem??"

"I don't know.... I am probably leaning more towards taking the job than not..... but I want to think about it and talk to Marcheline about it..."

"That's fine!! Talk away... think about it... but, just keep in mind that if you wait too long, the decision may be made for you... and you might miss a chance at something.... you need to quit thinking of this decision as an enlistment or something... if it sucks.. or if it isn't for you... or you decide it isn't working... you can find something different... this isn't rocket science, why are you being so freakin' wishy-washy.... don't be such a pussy!! You need a job.. and this is a friggin job. Period. Don't be a JACKASS!!"

"I will made a decision by business start-time tomorrow morning..."

"A mhaith-thú!! Good Lad!!"

".... :-) "

Once more 'round....

2008-04-06T22:06:00.003-04:00

Well... I have been scarce in these parts of late. I have some (to me, anyway...) valid excuses... I know that they are bullshit, but, Its my story... and I'm sticking to it.

We have been struggling a bit with the death of Marcheline's Dad. My cousin is undergoing chemo therapy right now... she has been diagnosed with a very aggressive form of lymphoma... so, although I am hoping that she will manage to fight through this, reality is following me around and slapping me across the back of the head with unfailing regularity.... obviously, this situation tends to be a bit upsetting... she is only about eight years older than I am... I can only give her emotional support, which seems pretty lame sometimes... I know down in the sub-basement of my heart that she wakes up crying and terrified in the middle of the night... and nobody is there to comfort her... ..

About three weeks ago... nearly a month now... I got called into my boss's office first thing on a Monday morning and was given the sack... the economy is tanking.. the company isn't making money.. and they can't justify my position any longer... sucks being the newest guy on the block. That is a long ride home... with your stupid box full of shit.

So now, I get up with my wife each morning... or earlier on the days that I go to the Zen Center for an early chanting service and meditation practice... and then I sit and send out resumes... to anything that remotely reeks of a possible job. I can see a huge difference in the job market... so, I am living with a slightly nauseating feeling of dread in my guts most of the time. I want to work. I want to carry my share of the load... what I hear from nearly everyone that I talk to is that folks are losing their jobs... companies are going out of business left and right... so.. nobody said that it was going to be easy, right??

On a happy note, we have a new tree to plant, just as soon as the weather dries up enough so that we aren't trying to shovel slop and sludge.... I just know that tree is going to look absolutely beautiful back there!!

I am still here... I just don't want to be a wet blanket, writing about crappy sfuff all the time....

Good comes... bad comes.... nothing stays the same... not even the mountains and the sky....

Pete

2008-02-15T19:27:00.003-05:00

Hey Pete!

Why did the Siamese twins go to England?

...So the other one would get a chance to drive!

Did you hear the one about the guy who died and took a
little piece of everyone's heart with him?

Never mind... it's not really all that funny
after all, come to think of it...

23,024 ½ days...

January 15, 1944 ~ February 14, 2008

the lifetime of a dear friend and
much loved father, husband, brother, and one hell of a guy.

If you had a half-second more time on this
earth for every laugh you gave..
.. you would live to be hundreds of years old.

Godspeed Pete.. walk in beauty..
We all miss you dearly.

No more pain
no more fear

We Love You!

What do you say?

2008-02-15T18:50:00.002-05:00

What do you say to your wife
when she has just lost her father?

How do you let her know
that the pain will one day pass,
and that she will smile again?

What can you do to help her find her way
when she is lost, and so very sad?

How can you show her
that her father's caress
is in the wind that touches her hair.. or,

that his voice can be heard in
the heartfelt laughter of strangers?

When her heart is sick...
and her tears are falling...
When the sobs shake her
and wrack your heart..

How do you tell her that
everything will be okay?

When the sun rises
on the first day of her life
over a world that her father
no longer shares with her...

... how do you teach her
that the breeze which dries her tears
is her father's soft loving kiss?

What do you say to a girl
who has just lost her father?

When you cannot find the words,
that will ease her pain,

sometimes you can find
a way to tell her
with your silent embrace.

Crisp Winter Moon, Skeletal Branches...

2008-02-13T23:43:00.003-05:00

Oh! Young folk -
If you fear death,
Die now!
Having died once,
You won't die again.

Unpleasant Surprises & Continuity

2008-02-10T10:18:00.000-05:00

The Backstory:

When I was in the military (I served first in the U.S. Air Force, and then in the U.S. Army -- This was in my Air Force days) I had a roommate named Barry.

The first time I knew that Barry existed was when I returned to my room (in which I had been the sole inhabitant) to find many of my belongings relocated to make way for the new occupant - who was not present at the moment.

Needless to say, I was none too happy at this new development.. preferring to have the room to myself.. and, therefore, none to eager to make whoever the intruder was feel all that welcome. This was exacerbated by what appeared to me to be an inordinate amount of vitamin and pill bottles which essentially took up the entire bottom shelf of my new roommates wall locker.

Irked, I rearranged my belongings on or in the pieces of furniture that were still mine to use, and went out.

When I next returned to my barracks room, my roommate was there. Truthfully, I was less than impressed. I thought he looked sort of dorky to be honest (looking back at photos of myself at the time, I have to say that I am *appalled* to think that I ever had the unmitigated gall to call anyone else dorky.. yikes!!).

I was thinking something along the lines of ("Just *fucking* great!! This is just my friggin' luck!"). The new guy introduced himself to me as "Barry", and I welcomed him.. by which I meant "I wish you would relocate to Antarctica - AND STAY THERE!!" and we went about the business of getting to know one another, setting out our boundaries, and testing those of the other occupant.

At one point, Barry pointed at my 'Do-Bohk' (Korean for the uniform you wear when practicing martial arts - literally 'Way-Attire') and asked me what I was studying. I told him that was practicing Do Hap Sool, and he asked me what it was. I explained, and he indicated that he would like to come with me next time.. and that he was interested in learning. I discouraged this idea enthusiastically... I didn't think that he could hack it, honestly... the training was tough, painful, and exhausting.

He asked why I was shying away from the idea, and, at a loss for a coherent and socially acceptable response, I asked him if he was sick or something.. weakly gesturing at all of the pill bottles. He explained that he was a runner, and that he needed the supplementation to stay healthy. This struck me as somewhat pretentious, and, scoffing, I asked him how far he ran... (How far would someone run?? 2 or 3 miles per day?? 10?? Why would you need all of this crap?!)

"Between 20 and 30, twice a week... and between 5 to 15 on the other days." he answered in what I came to learn was a very characteristic manner for him; softly, humbly, and very matter-of-factly.

?! ... .... ..... "Um... .. WHAT?!?"

He repeated it slowly, apparently deciding that I was addled in some fundamental way, and incapable of understanding human speech unless it was spoken very slowly and very, very clearly...

(30 MILES?!) (!!!)

"GET the fuck outta here!!", I blurted. Basically, I was telling him that I thought he was full of shit, without saying that I thought he was full of shit.

He stared at me, expressionless, for a few moments (I also came to know this quirk of his personality... I wish I had known what it portended at the time...), and he shrugged and said, "I'll make a deal with you; You take me to Do Hap Sool, and I will take you running with me."

I *HATED* running. DESPISED it. But.. the gauntlet had been thrown, and I saw no good reason for letting all of that testosterone go to waste.... so I agreed.

Off we went to the Do Hap Sool Dojang, where Barry plunked down his dues, purchased a uniform, and began his training (He subsequently earned his black belt, by the way.)

Here is proof! That's Barry - The Black Belt - seated front row on the right (the viewer's right)I am involved in the photo - but you can't see me since I was on the other side of the camera!

That same night, Barry explained that he was going for a 'short' run, and asked me if I would like to go along. I agreed, but admitted that running wasn't my thing.. and that I actually hated it, truth be told.

"That's because you don't know how to run." he explained.

Scowling, I replied, "Don't know how to run? What are you talking about?! Of course I know how to run! I run all the time!"

We put on our running clothes, tied on our running shoes, and out we went into the Korean night...

Barry explained that distance running was very different from running like one does when playing tag. He taught me how to carry my body, and how to roll my feet when I ran. He taught me the proper way to breathe... and most importantly, how to relax and to run effortlessly.

That first night, we ran... and we ran.... and we ran. Until...

"HALT!! SECURITY POLICE!! PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!! YOU ARE IN AN UNAUTHORIZED AREA!! I AM AN ARMED SECURITY POLICEMAN WITH A RIFLE A DOG... IF YOU MOVE OR FAIL TO FOLLOW MY INSTRUCTIONS YOU WILL BE SHOT!!

We stopped... and put our hands in the air. A huge dog streaked towards us out of the darkness and showed us what big teeth it had. We were ordered to lay on the ground, face down, with our arms and legs outstretched. This was great sport, since we got to lay down in a bunch of sand, grit, and gravel.. and we were covered with sweat and all sticky.

We heard some radio squelch, and an unintelligible conversation taking place. At one point I started to wipe away a bead of sweat that threatened to run into my eye, but he dog patiently explained to me that it was an ill-advised idea which could, quite possibly, result in the loss of a limb, or fatal hemorrhaging.

We heard the sound of a tracked military vehicle approaching, and the beat of many feet on the ground as a squad of armed special response troops rapidly exited the vehicle from the rear ramp and took up positions from which they could most efficiently riddle us with bullets if the need should arise.

We were 'covered' and routinely searched... this was a brief affair, since we were wearing running shorts, running shoes... and nothing else.

Once it was ascertained that we weren't carrying any deadly weapons or devices, a grand poobah of the Security Police approached us and asked us why we weren't carrying military ID, what we were doing in the area (just to be clear... this area was one that we travelled freely during daylight hours.. we had no idea that it was off limits during hours of darkness...), what unit we were from, whether we wipe back to front or front to back, how many fillings we had in our teeth, and what our great grandmother's favorite color was..... after perhaps an hour, we were cut loose to continue our run in relative peace, and admonished to stay away from certain areas.

So... off we went.

We ran 15 miles that night. I had never, in all of my life, ran more than 2 miles in a single clip.

I felt that I had accomplished something amazing!! I had broken a physical barrier!

The next morning, Barry kicked my bed and told me to get up and go to breakfast with him.

I couldn't. I couldn't move. I couldn't even make it to the bathroom! Every single solitary inch of my being was shrieking in pain. My hair hurt. My bones hurt. I could actually feel every tendon and ligament in my body... and they weren't one bit happy about it. I thought I was going to die. I became terrified that I might NOT die with any immediacy... and that I would be forced to lay there.. in pain... perhaps for minutes... or even, Heaven forbid, up to an hour. I was miserable.

Barry showed his sympathy for me by laughing at me, and by going and finding everyone that he could rope in to come and gawk at me as I lay there on my deathbed.

He told me that the only way to make the pain stop would be to actually get up and force myself to move around... take a good hot shower... and get some food into me.

I told him that I was dying... and that I wanted to be left in peace.

Finally, he pulled me off of the bed onto the floor, ran the shower, and said... "Crawl if you have to... but get into that shower... and lets go get some chow! JUST DO SOMETHING... even if its WRONG!!"

(this became a watchword and motto which continues even to this very day! When I first met my wife, she drove a gray Chevy Nova with a bumber sticker that said "Just Do it!" -- I got a kick out of it, and explained that MY motto was "Just Do something!! Even if its wrong!" -- she most likely thought I was a dick... but, we became friends... and eventually married.. so there!!)

Barry taught me to break through my own limitations that day... limitations concerning my perceptions of others... my own physical limitations... including pain barriers. If not for that lesson, I never would have continued on to serve in the other units that I served in, which required a great deal from each member physically, mentally, and spiritually.

Barry and I became very close friends. We followed one another from Korea to the states, and back to Korea. He was there when my son was born... and I was there when his was.

We laughed, cried, sweat and bled together.

Eventually, I left the military and returned to the United States. Barry remained in Korea. Life moved in, as it does... and we lost touch with one another.

Which brings us to THE CURRENT STORY:

Last week I decided to try to find him... and I began to search for him on the internet. I found a person with the same name, listed as a Major in the USAF as being buried in an expatriate cemetery on the western outskirts of Seoul, Korea. But, Barry was enlisted when I last knew him... so this didn't really add up. I hadn't remembered him telling me anything about a father or grandfather that had served as an officer in the Air Force. Hmmmm.....

The last I had heard about him, he was a part owner of a nightclub in Seoul, and they had a billiards team. I looked up the team website, and clicked on Barry's link to have a look at his scores; they ended in September of 2004. The first trickles of dread began to creep in at the back of my brain... and cold fingers began to grip my guts.

I thought (and hoped) that perhaps the team had gone defunct. I clicked on some of the other members... and then all of the other members... and their scores were current up to the very day.

I stopped. I couldn't get my brain wrapped around this at all... so, relying on my training, I changed tacks and decided to attack the problem from a different angle. I decided to look up military alumni groups. I started with a DLI (Defense Language Institute -- Barry was a Korean Liguist) group; where I found this post -

Sad times for friends of the (Nightclub - name deleted)

Itaewon endured one of its saddest days in recent memory on Sept. 23, when the news went out that Barry ( DELETED ), who ran the ( Nightclub name deleted ), had died that morning in a motorcycle accident in Thailand.

Barry had been on vacation with friends, so it was they who conveyed the bad news to folks in Seoul. From there, word got out to Barry's many friends here via anguished phone calls and text messages.

That night an impromptu memorial service was held at the ( Nightclub name deleted ). Loved ones set up a small, touching shrine in one of the booths, with a big photo of Barry smiling happily, and an album for people to write their farewells. People who'd heard the news ¡ª and there were many ¡ª came by to share their sorrow with hugs and tears.

Barry's funeral was held last Saturday, at the Memorial Chapel of the Seoul Union Church in western Seoul. The church is adjacent to the Foreigners Cemetery, where his remains were eventually laid to rest.

The night before, his many friends had again filled up the ( Nightclub name deleted ) for a wake. From about midnight, 10 or 15 people gave short tributes, led by Sonny ( Last name deleted ), Barry's best friend and Air Force buddy.

Mr. ( Last name deleted ) first met Barry in 1979, when both were stationed at the Defense Language Institute in Monterey, California. He said Barry proved right away to be an exceptional linguist and interpreter; both were assigned to the Air Force base at Osan in 1980, and they became close friends over the next three or four years.

But most people who knew Barry didn't think of him as a scholar or a cadet. They think of, and thank him for, the great bar he started, the ( Nighclub name deleted ), right after he retired from the Air Force in 1994.

The original bar, located where its successor the ( Nightclub name deleted ) is now, had loads of character; it was jam-packed on Fridays, Saturdays and even some weeknights. On Sunday afternoons, Barry would show movies on his big-screen TV, a special treat in those days. Hungover locals would try to get there early and stake out the best booths.

The ( Nightclub name deleted ) really took off the next year, when Barry expanded it to the second floor, where the restaurant ( Name deleted ) is now. From the get-go, the new section, more like a nightclub, was phenomenally popular. Some nights you couldn't get in unless you knew Barry, or Marcel the doorman.

Back in the here and now, the good news is that the ( Nightclub name deleted ) will remain open. Barry's 21-year-old son Shawn, who'd been helping out over the last year, will take over, and a co-manager, Eugene ( Name deleted ), will remain on board.

Mr. ( Name deleted ) reassured me that he and Shawn "won't change a thing." So yes, the ( Nightclub name deleted ) will still be there. It will still serve up the best steaks in town, and it will still be the friendliest place to down a few. But it'll never be the same.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing!! My friend was gone! ... He had been dead for over three years and I had no idea!!

The sounds of my crying woke my wife... who did her best to console me... I was very upset... I couldn't believe that this had happened. Even though it was 'old news' - to me it had just happened at that very moment... and I was very, very sad.

It was the last thing that I would have expected to find.

My Zen practice doesn't really help me to avoid losing my center when hit with something like this... what it does do is to help me to recover it relatively quickly... which I did. I am still sad to think of a world without Barry in it, but, in a way he is not gone.. just changed. I still miss the relationship, though.. and that is gone. This is one the more difficult things that we must all learn to cope with eventually, I guess...

There was nothing that I could do for Barry. What I did do was to contact his son. I have a wealth of stories to share with Shawn regarding his father... and a stack of photos that I can send to him. Photos from before he was born, photos of when he was a baby... photos of friends and family that may no longer be alive.

I told Shawn that his father was a friend of mine, which made him a friend of mine. I reminded him that I stood by his father's side on the day that he was born, and that he (Shawn) used to play with my son when they were children.

I received a message from Shawn this morning.. in which he signed off with "Friends for life!"

Yes... Friends for life...and beyond.

The Phoenix (Bul Jo Sa) was very important to the Koreans. So much so that the Phoenix was depicted on the royal seal. Here is an image of a phoenix, painted, I believe, by a Korean artist;

And another by a Korean artisan of long ago;

The Phoenix is still to be found flying in the skies of Korea. I don't ask you to believe me... you don't have to take my word for it. See for yourself!

A fitting symbol I think.... for a new friendship has been reborn from the ashes of an old one...

Barry lives on in my heart, it is true... but his blood still runs through the veins of my new friend.

I am happy.

Look to this day...

2008-01-29T19:20:00.000-05:00

Look to this day,
for it is life.
The very life of life.
In its brief course lie all
the realities & verities of existence;
the bliss of growth,
the splendor of action,
the glory of power -
for yesterday is but a dream,
and tomorrow is only a vision.
But today, well loved
makes every yesterday a dream of happiness..
.. and tomorrow a vision of hope.

Toru Kawamura

2008-01-27T10:21:00.000-05:00

When I was a boy, in first and second grade, I had a friend who was from Japan, and who lived in the same apartment building as we did, and who also went to my school. He was a year ahead of me in school.

The first time I ever saw him, I was walking to school, and four or five of the older boys were beating him up. He held his own, but it wasn't a fair fight.

I was tiny as a kid, usually the smallest kid in any group, but my sense of outrage at this unfairness overcame my self-preservation instinct and I tried to intervene. I have to say at this point that I wasn't able to help poor Toru at all. One of the larger kids simply gave me a cuff in the head, grabbed me in a strangle hold, and lifted me off my feet until I stopped struggling, and then put my feet back on the ground and told me to be still or he would choke me to death.

So I had to stand there and watch this kid take a beating for no good reason.

The kids were calling him racial names and telling him to 'go back to Japan'.

I didn't understand why they were saying these things... the incident made me feel sick in my soul.

Afterwards, I picked up Toru's umbrella and put his torn and muddy books back into his book bag and went over to him. I asked him if he was okay... he was crying, and bruised, and bleeding. He took his umbrella and book bag, asked me to leave him alone, and headed back home.

I stood there, watching him limping slowly back towards the building where we lived.. muddy, wet, and hurt... I remember looking at the ground and seeing a crocus that had been flattened during the struggle.. it struck something in me; I felt terrible, and I started to cry... my throat felt as though I had swallowed an iron ball... my eyes were burning.. my lips trembling... and my knees shaking with feelings of anger, frustration, powerlessness, and and overwhelming sense of loss... at what, I don't know to this day.

Eventually, I headed into school for one of the most miserable days I had ever experienced in my life up to that day... not because of anything that was happening externally, but because of all of the thoughts and feelings that were raging inside of me. I had no idea what I was feeling, and no idea how to sort them out...

After school, I went home and got some cookies, wrapped them in a paper towel, and after scanning the doorbells for the name 'Kawamura' (I had seen it on his books, and on his book bag) I went and knocked on his door. I suppose I wanted to try to make him feel better... to tell him that *I* didn't want him to go back to Japan.. unless *he* wanted to... and probably to make myself feel better about the whole thing in some way... I stood there for what seemed like forever, but nobody answered the door.

Some days later, I knocked on the door again and it was answered by an attractive Japanese woman who, with extreme politeness, explained that Toru was in 'Manhattan' with his father. I had no earthly idea where 'Manhattan' was, and when I later asked my grandparents, they explained that although we called Manhattan 'New York City' or simply 'The City' - that all five boroughs were actually 'The City' and that 'Manhattan' was actually the correct term. I was very impressed by this degree of accuracy and specificity. I felt that I should have known this. I started to think that the thugs who had beaten this kid up were really off base... these folks even knew the proper names for things when I didn't!!

I finally knocked on the door when Toru was actually home. He came to the door and stared at me impassively for a long moment, and then, deciding that I posed no threat to him, I suppose, grabbed his jacket and came out to play. He told me about Japan, showed me how people wrote in Japan (I was absolutely captivated by this!), explained to me that the boys who had beaten him up were most likely angry because they had heard the stories that their parents and uncles and grandparents had told about the war with Japan (In retrospect, I am absolutely floored at the self-possession and insight of this little 6 or 7 year old boy.. he was an amazing kid!).

When I asked about the war, he explained that it had much to do with Japan needing steel and other natural resources because they had very little land and very little ability to derive natural resources from their homeland.

I sat there, open-mouthed, while he patiently explained all of this to me. I asked him how he learned all of this stuff.. and he told me that on Saturdays, he went to 'Japanese School'. I was flabbergasted at this!! School on SATURDAY!! It simply wasn't done!! What about cartoons?! What about playing outside!!

He said that one day his parents would have to return to Japan (his father had been posted in New York by his Company), and that he, Toru, would have to return with them... and if he didn't work hard in Japanese School, he would be behind all of the other children when he went back to school.

This was the first kid I had ever known who considered school to be important, and not just a nuisance that had to be dealt with. It was Toru who sparked the first interest in learning within me.

I continued to be impressed by Toru during the entire period of our friendship. Whatever anybody could do, Toru could do it better!! I made houses and things out of Lego blocks... Toru had built a huge commercial airliner that was amazing! I made a kite out of newspaper and sticks... Toru made a hand painted Dragon kite that had to be 15 or 20 feet long!!

Perhaps the most amazing thing was that he never 'one-upped' me.. when I showed him my kite, he 'oooohed' and 'aaaahed' over it, expressed his delight with a ready smile, and helped me to fly it. It was only weeks later when I spied the kite hanging in his bedroom and asked about it that I learned that he had made it by hand. When I blurted out that I felt like an idiot for being so proud of my stupid kite, he wrinkled his brow, put a small brown hand on my arm and said that I had no reason at all to feel that way... that my kite was beautiful.. and that my kite flew better than his did, anyway... I bought it at the time, but now realize that most likely wasn't true. Toru was protecting my feelings.

Just before Toru returned to Japan, the same kids who had beaten him up blocked our way as we were walking to school together. This time, they focused on me, and announced their intention to beat the crap out of me for being a 'traitor' by befriending Toru.

As one of them moved towards me, Toru stepped in front of me and quietly explained that they were being very impolite. He told them that he couldn't let them hurt me. He explained that I was his friend. And that I was very small.

The bully was laughing as he grabbed Toru by the lapels to toss him out of the way.

He stopped laughing when Toru tossed him onto his back on the sidewalk.

The other boys all rushed Toru - and were systematically thrown to the ground, punched, or kicked.

When they had had enough and ran away, I looked at Toru incredulously and demanded to know why on earth, if he was capable of fighting like that, had he let them beat him up so badly the last time?!?!?

He looked at me with that maddeningly calm way of his and answered, simply;
"I didn't want to hurt them."

I had never known anybody like this kid in my life...

I don't remember how long my friendship with Toru lasted, but it couldn't have been very long at all. What I do remember is that he was one of the most influential people in my life. He set an example that I have yet to emulate. He was a smart, kind, and insightful person.. at the age of 7 or possibly 8. He was patient, tranquil, focused, and had absolutely no ego whatsoever.

I often wonder what became of Toru, and how he is faring...

In any case, Toru, wherever you are, I hope that you are well, and that you are truly happy, and that you have managed to follow your dreams.. whatever they may be.

Domo Arigato Gozaimasu (ありがとう！あなたはとてもしんせつです。((ごめんなさい。私の日本語はへたです。)) )

Fwd: Fwd: Fwd: Fwd: Fwd: Fwd: Fwd:

2008-01-09T23:20:00.000-05:00

Occasionally, I get puked upon by a friend or relative who has gotten their feelings stung by my failure to read, view and provide suitable feedback for a forwarded email message that they have sent to me. It usually goes like this;

"What'd ya think of that thing I sent ya?? Cute, wasn't it?!"

"I deleted it... sorry.."

"... ... You.. DELETED it!?"

"Yeah.. I don't really read 'forwards'... I just delete them."

At which point it is made clear to me either verbally, nonverbally, or by subsequent interaction with that person (or, more to the point, non-interaction with that person) that they don't agree with, support, or tolerate my position.

I must confess, however, that it is true. I don't read forwards. There are a few reasons for this, and some may even be valid. They happen to be valid reasons to me, though... and I don't read forwards.

Basically, if you forward something to me other than a link, a message from another person known to me, or something that pertains specifically to me personally, and this is made abundantly clear by the subject line or by the sender(meaning that it comes from a sender who generally doesn't send forwards as a general rule), I glance at the subject... and delete it.

The simplest reason is that I don't care what it is in a forwarded message. I'm not interested. I don't like them. They take up valuable bandwidth.

Usually, they are some stupid joke or chain letter that has been circulating around for 15 years. It wasn't cute or funny when it came around the first time... it isn't funny today.

Bill Gates is NOT going to send me any money.
My forwarding a chain letter isn't going to save the little girl that has been dying of the same ailment since 1989.

My feeling is that if someone wants to communicate with me, they can type out an email message addressed to ME, intended for ME, and not to 900 strangers, with me stuck on for good measure.

In an effort to make this easier, I am providing a sample message that can easily be cut and pasted into your email client if you wish to say 'hi'.

Select all text between the lines
-------------------------------

Hi Bear,

Just wanted to say hi. hi.

Well. Guess that's all for now.

Bye.

Regards, [BLANK] (insert name)

-------------------------------
Type name in the space labeled 'BLANK'

There.

Now nobody has a good reason to send me forwards.

I am not going to open them in any case. They get summarily deleted.

If you have a video, images, poems, heart-wrenching sob stories, or evangelical tracts that you wish me to read, write me a message, and paste a link to a page where I can view the material if and when I choose.

I am sure that I will still get crapped on for not opening forwards, and if anyone has heartburn with that, please write it all down, and forward it to me in an email.

A Blank Canvas

2008-01-01T09:35:00.000-05:00

Last night I worked a New Year's Eve party. There were perhaps 265 people attending the party. At some point, the DJ asked the assembled guests to 'make some noise' if they had a good 2007; You could've heard a pin drop. The room was completely, utterly and (at least to me...) significantly silent. After a few moments of unnatural quiet, he then asked whether anyone hoped to have a better year in 2008 than they did in 2007 and the noise from the jubilant crowd nearly brought the roof down!

Apparently, nobody found this past year to be all that much to scream about. It seems sort of weird that everybody had a hard time of it, though... you would think that some folks would've had a good year, and some folks would've had difficulties... but, judging from this response, plus the snippets of conversation that I have overheard all year; 2007 has kicked the living shit out of just about everyone.

2007 was a fairly difficult year for us, for our extended group of family and friends, and for just about everyone that we know. We are considerably fewer in number than we were a year ago.. those who are no longer with us have left a noticeable hole in the fabric of our lives that will take some time to mend. They have left us with happy memories, and a great sadness at their loss. While it is true that birth and death are always with us, and while I am comfortable with the idea that death is a natural part of life.. I still mourn the loss of the relationship with each of them. I can still love them, and I do. I can carry them in my heart and bring them forth whenever I like; But they can't answer me... they can't offer their physical presence... I can't hear their voices, or see their smiles any more. I miss them.

Financially, we got spanked throughout the entire year, to the point that we would go to sleep and wake up with fears of homelessness chilling our blood.

In hearing what other folks have had to contend with, however, it seems that we have been lucky. This past year has simply been a time of difficulty for everyone.

That isn't to say that there were no good times.. we had our laughs and our triumphs, but the overall picture has been one of austerity and tribulation.

I sit here this morning looking out of my window at a dreary, gloomy, grey day; one of those Long Island days where it never seems to get past 6AM judging by the quality of the light. Nevertheless, I am holding on fast to hopes for a kinder, gentler, happier and more joyful and prosperous year.

Like most folks, I tend to stop and take stock of life on New Year's Day... looking back at how things were, and comparing what I remember to how things are today. Some things never seem to change much, while in other instances the change is startling (and some times appalling!)

I would like to be able to say that I will be doing things differently this year, but, to be honest, I can't really think of all that much that we can do!! We sat down a few weeks ago to work out a household budget; the idea being that we would be able to identify some areas where we could cut back a bit in order to make it somewhat easier to get the bills paid. What we discovered was that we are so thrifty already that there simply wasn't anyplace left that we could cut back!! I was discussing this topic with my mom on the telephone a week or so ago, and mentioned that it suddenly became difficult to make ends meet, and she posited that the rising prices of food and oil have steadily crept up on us and have eaten away all of the 'extra' money that most of us had... and has begun to chip away at the funds that we need to survive. Working extra sounds like a good plan, except that most of the businesses that would usually provide this extra income are either drastically cutting back, and therefore are not hiring, or simply don't have a schedule that is possible for folks that already work a full-time job plus a part-time job. So what do you do there??

I religiously search for a better paying job, for something part-time that is close enough so that I can actually manage to get to it in a timely fashion, or for some opportunity 'outside of the box' that may offer a bit of relief... but, so far I haven't had any luck at all.

At one point, we decided to start selling our belongings... only to find out that a). We aren't the only folks in the world, apparently, who are in the same position.. and they are selling the same type of crap as well... and b). Nobody seems to have the money to buy the stuff we are selling.

The only thing left to do is to keep 'driving on' and keep my eyes and ears open for a better opportunity.

I suppose that in the meantime, the best thing that I can do is to simply do the best that I can at using less... less food, less electricity, less gas, less everything.

There was a time when I could sell my artwork or craft-work to make whatever extra money that I needed when I was in a pinch - doing portraits, designing T-shirts, Tattoo Flash, embroidered emblems, and what have you... but, when everybody is being weighed down by the same burden, this is the sort of thing that gets pushed to the back burner; people just can't afford to spend money on 'extras'.

This past year has served to remind me, once again, that nothing is written in stone, and that any one of my friends or family can be ripped away from me without warning. This sobering thought simply solidifies my desire to live each day and each breath as though it were the last... and to treasure each and every moment that I have with those who share my life.

Although I don't have much in the way of material wealth, I am rich beyond measure... I have family and friends who love me, support me, and whose enduring presence bring me joy and happiness. I have a beautiful wife who loves me with all of her heart, and who I can count on to stand by my side in the face of anything that comes our way.. I am warm, fed, loved, and happy. I have more than most folks have, and considerably more than some poor souls will ever have in their lifetime.

I don't know what this year will have in store for me. Part of me looks forward in anticipation, while part of me shrinks back from what might be heading for me...

As for my hopes for 2008, I would like to;

Strengthen my body.
Deepen my spiritual practice.
Improve my financial circumstances.
Get my house in order - i.e. actually do many of the things that have been put off such as clean out the attic, and finish all of the unfinished projects that are laying around and collecting dust!
Pick up my chanter and my bagpipes once again, and practice! It has been so long since I have played them.. its kind of sad, actually.
Devote some time to artistic ventures - it has been so long since I have simply drawn, painted, or sculpted anything...
Spend more time wandering in the woods, along the beaches, and out under the sky!
Take photographs simply for the love of it!
Write - stories, poetry, what have you..

While I do enjoy the work at my job, it is becoming increasingly clearer to me that I cannot, most likely, manage to live on what I earn there. Not that I am being inundated with offers, but I am probably going to have to find some line of work that enable me to earn significantly more than I am earning now... or we are going to be in worse shape by the end of this year than we are today; I don't foresee the cost of living suddenly dropping.

It has been nearly a year since Myo-Shin (a nun in my monastic community) has passed away (it will be a year this coming February). Her husband is the Osho of our local Zen Center;

(Dictionary Tangent Begins Here)

Osho

(Japanese Zen term)
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Look up 和尚 in
Wiktionary, the free dictionary.

Oshō is the Japanese reading of the Chinese he shang (和尚), meaning a high-ranking Buddhist monk or highly virtuous Buddhist monk. It is also a respectful designation for Buddhist monks in general and may be used with the suffix -san. It is originally derived from the Sanskrit upadhyaya, meaning "master" in the sense of "teacher".

The two characters making up the word are actually pronounced oshō only in the Zen and Pure Land sects. For example, they are read kashō in the Tendai sect and wajō in the Shingon sect.

(Herendeth the Dictionary Tangent)

ANYway... it was in December of last year that he was ordained as an Osho, and it was upon his return from California (the headquarters of our Order in the U.S.) where he had gone to attend the Osho ordination ceremony that he learned that his wife was very ill. They had both gone to Los Angeles a week or so prior to the scheduled Ordination ceremony to attend a Monastic training retreat. When they returned to New York, Myo-Shin had what we all believed to be a cold or a flu. She was supposed to have accompanied him to attend the Ordination ceremony but elected not to go because she didn't feel up to it. What we did not know at the time was that she had less than two months left to live...

For a Zen Monk, Ordination as an Osho comes with two very difficult and important responsibilities; The first is to found a Temple. The second is to produce an 'heir' or protegé to whom the Osho can pass on his Zen Lineage (we trace our lineage of Teacher to student transmission all the way back to the historical Buddha - Shakyamuni Buddha; Siddhartha Gotama. ((My teacher is the 82nd in line counting from the Buddha through each of his successive disciples in this particular lineage, down to the present day.)) )

Due to the sudden and unexpected death of his wife, to whom he was married for 54 years, these responsibilities were set aside for the period of a year in order for him to mourn her passing, and so that he would be able to regain his center and re-establish some balance in his life. It was not deemed appropriate for him to make any major decisions or undertake any new ventures during this time period, so he spent the year traveling with his teacher and strengthening his practice and his understanding of Zen.

It is likely that once this period of mourning has passed, he will likely turn his attention towards establishing a temple here on Long Island. (Our Zendo is a room in his house, which he owns. A temple cannot be privately owned, but must be owned by the Rinzai Order). I am not sure what he will decide to do.. (i.e., leave things as they are, sell the house to the Rinzai Order, raise funds to purchase a property for the purpose of establishing a temple, or some other avenue...) but, whatever he decides to do, the bulk of the actual work will be done by his monks. If this comes to pass, we will definitely have our hands full!

He is nearly 70 years old, so I don't know whether this is something that he will be willing to tackle at this point. I suppose I will have to just wait and see.

In any case, I look forward to opportunities to alleviate some of our financial worries, to gatherings of our clan throughout the year; gatherings full of love and laughter! I look forward to thousands and thousands of hugs and kisses from by beautiful wife, to warm silky cats purring in my arms, to sunny spring mornings and to welcoming each new flower that wakes from its winter slumber... I look forward to hours of meditative silence, warm summer days, and many, many delicious meals that I will cook both for my wife, and for my order (I am the Tenzo - the Zen Gardener & Cook, whose responsibility it is to prepare delicious and nutritious meals for the monastic community and for our guests and lay practitioners). I look forward to all of the books that I will read, and all of the new things that I will learn. I look forward to each and every success and triumph - my own, and those of my family, my friends, and all of my acquaintances. I look forward to the feeling of freshness and possibility that each morning will bring... and to laying down at the end of a long day of work with my wife and holding her close to me as we drop off to sleep. I look forward to the laughter that we will share, and to connecting to people each day; reaffirming our shared humanity, and rejoicing in one another's presence.

A human life is a fleeting thing... it is like writing on the surface of water with a stick.. both coming into being and being destroyed simultaneously.. I want to be there, completely and unreservedly; for every single moment of my life; whatever it brings.

This year I hope to make each step that I take a soft, tranquil, loving kiss upon the earth, rather than running around planting strife and disquiet in a useless attempt to control everything that is happening around me... I want to reign in my mind's propensity to attach to everything that is whirling around me.. I want this year to be a year of calm joy in life.. I want to learn to be a better observer, and above all, a better listener.

Today is the first day of a whole new year. We have a blank canvas upon which we can paint whatever we desire.

Happy New Year everyone... I sincerely hope that this year will bring each and every one of you happiness, prosperity, joy and success.

Thank you for taking the time to visit my blog, for reading what I put down here, and for touching my life, and allowing me to touch yours.

I feel as though many of you have become my friends. I haven't met any of you, but I have developed a great deal of affection for you; We may not share the same space, but we share what is in our minds and what is within our hearts. This seems to me to be the very measure of friendship - we see directly into one another, without being swayed or deluded by judgments based upon personal appearance, social status, or any of the other illusory barriers that we humans erect between ourselves and others. I enjoy reading your blogs, and when you write of your high points and your low points, I feel them with you. Many of you have made it a point to be supportive of me when I was having a rough time, and many of you have given me cause to laugh until my stomach hurt and tears were streaming down my face. Some of you have given me reason to cry when you have written of your pain. All of you have shared your lives with me in some way.

Thanks guys.. it makes me happy to know that you are out there, somewhere.. I hope we have a great 2008!

Rough Weather Ahead..

2007-12-18T14:48:00.000-05:00

I am home to take my wife to the airport. We received news just over an hour ago that her uncle passed away, and she will be trying to get the earliest possible flight to be with her family.

I will remain in the rear to attend to whatever must needs be done.

I am sad. I feel bad for my wife, her grandmother, and the rest of our family.

Just after she received news regarding her uncle, she also received more bad news about her father, who has been ill for some time now, and who's condition is apparently beginning to take a turn for the worst.

I don't know what will happen, but I suppose the most sensible thing to do would be to batten down the hatches and prepare for whatever may come. I somehow don't think it will be in the way of the best news possible.

If any of you who read her blog see this, perhaps you might pop over and cheer her up a little? You can find her here.

So. Thats what's going on... we are in it... no place to go but forward.

"Jack" Born: ?? ~ Died: 15 December 2007

2007-12-15T14:52:00.000-05:00

I just finished burying a friend - Jack was a cat who adopted us some many years ago, and has lived in our yard, seeing us off whenever we would leave, and happily greeting us upon our return. He was a happy little spirit, and I will always remember him as being a constant friend and a part of everything that has taken place here for as long as we have lived in this place... He was a much beloved member of our clan, and I already miss him dearly...

See you on the other side, Jack

O dark, dark, dark. They all go into the dark.
The vacant interstellar spaces......
I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope
For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love
For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith
But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.
Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:
So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.

T.S. Eliot

Holiday Storm

2007-12-14T08:31:00.000-05:00

For some reason my entire extended family is getting the living kicked out of us of late.

Every day brings more and more bad news piled on top of old bad news... I have no idea what the heck is going on!!

At first, we thought *we* were in bad shape (meaning my wife and I..), as once again we have hit a huge financial brick wall, and are working like hell to keep our heads above water, and, literally trying to keep a roof over our heads... its scary...

The tenants who lived in the downstairs apartment moved out, and just before that their cat, "Morris" who was Jack's buddy was nailed by a car and killed right in front of the house... which was very sad for all of us as Morris was a very cool cat, and was really well liked by all of us...

Jack the outside cat has taken a turn for the worse, won't eat a bite, and has started twitching and drooling... we have just about no money to pay for a vet visit, but, nevertheless, we are taking him tomorrow to be seen... part of me is in fear that he won't be coming home with us... part of me feels that whatever the price to me, it is important to do what's right for Jack. He has been my friend for some years... and he trusts me. I owe it to him to make whatever decisions are necessary to look out for his best interests. If he is suffering, and it can't be alleviated, then I guess we have to do what we have to do.. but it will break my heart to do it. He is a fixture here... and part of our family.

So many members of our family have been stricken with serious illness or have had illnesses suddenly get exponentially worse, that we don't even know who to worry about the most!!

We have been walking around getting bashed about and having the teeth rattled out of our collective heads mentally asking ourselves, "What the *fuck*?!?!"

We sat down and worked out a household budget last night... that was an adventure in adrenaline and gut-twisting, by the way... the only problem is that when we tried to find something that we could cut back on in order to save some money, we learned that we don't actually spend money on *anything* other than the bare necessities... we are some of the most frugal people we know!! Where do you go from there?? I fix my own shoes, make my own stuff... we eat for a week at a time on soups or other recipes that literally cost us pennies.. this batch of soup that we are feeding on for this week was literally made out of the scraps and leftovers that I found when I rooted around in the kitchen. It's good soup... but it was made primarily from all of the stuff that would have gone in the bin in another few days... We don't really go anywhere, we don't buy anything... we basically put all of our money towards trying to keep the bills paid. And the financial climate of late hasn't done a thing to make that any easier for us; the mortgage just increased by over a hundred dollars a month due to tax increases; and we already had some of the highest property taxes in the nation! There isn't anything to be done, we either have to find a way to pay it, or we are in major trouble - I don't even believe we would be able to scrape together enough cash to move if we had to!

We are circling the wagons and 'turtling up' to coin a phrase from my boxing days... trying to show the toughest parts of ourselves, and trying to hide the soft bits and keep them protected.

Marcheline had to have her window replaced in order for her vehicle to pass inspection... and the list of stuff just seems to go on and on and on...

Cancer, strokes, old age related stuff... so many people in our family suffering..

It is looking as though this holiday season is going to be a bit of a trying one for all of us.

I am trying to 'feel' the season.. but, honestly, I only really feel like going to bed, but, when I do; I lay there thinking of all this stuff or have freaky dreams about it all when I finally do drop off to sleep. I wake up more tired than when I laid down, and feeling as though someone has wailed the shit out of me with a baseball bat to boot!

It seems as though we turned a corner somewhere, and it suddenly became incredibly difficult to keep all of the bills paid. What on earth is going on?? The expenses just keep climbing, and the salaries go nowhere..

We have both been searching for part-time work, but nearly 95% of the job postings are bogus! The ones that *are* real are either so far away that it isn't worth even applying, or they pay crap, don't respond to the application, or they have one opening; from 10 to 2 on Tuesday, and from 3AM to 9:55AM on Thursday... what the fuck is *that*? How can you hold down a full time job and be expected to work part time in the middle of the work day?

The salaries for the jobs that *are* real, and *are* hiring would require about 90 hours per week to make a paycheck that was worth cashing... it just isn't doable.

I know that the universe doesn't conspire against us, and that things simply work out the way that they work out.. but when stuff like this happens, it is a huge reminder to me of just how small and insignificant I really am... and that everything that I know and everything that I have and am can be snuffed out in an instant - just like that! And; there is really little or nothing at all that I can do about it if it were to happen. I feel like a wee bit of flotsam in an ocean storm sometimes...

In a way thats really frightening, but in another way its really liberating. There isn't any point in worrying too much, I think, when all that I can really do is what I can do; I will either be successful, or I won't, and I will have to deal with whatever comes either way. If the worst happens, I will have to deal with it enough at that time - so no sense suffering about it now. I would be better put to use trying to respond to whatever situation is at hand, and doing the best that I can do. If I do my best, then its my best, and the outcome is the outcome. There simply isn't any other option... so, why worry about it? In Irish we have a saying that addresses this, "Marbh le Té, agus marbh gan é!" ("You are dead with your tea, or with out it!") ((the implication is that you may as well enjoy it!))

I am thankful that I have learned, through my practice, to be able to find the small enjoyable moments that are hidden, like little presents, within the maelstrom of all the other crap that is going on around me; and that I am able to enjoy those moments with the whole of my being whenever they make themselves available.

Today's sunset was one of the most beautiful, and one of the saddest, for some reason, that I can remember in a long time...

Good. Bad. Happy. Sad. Joy. Grief. Celebration. Mourning. It is all a part of my story... and I am determined not to turn away from any of it. Whatever comes, that is my life, and I am going to live it to the best of my ability.

It would be nice if we could find a way to solve the problems that are cropping up all around us... but, I suppose that is what life is about in a way. We just have to take whatever hand is dealt us, and do the best we can with what we've got.

In any case, I have to find a way to maintain my center while all of this stuff is going on.. its the only way that I can remain calm, and keep a clear mind so that I can both recognize, and react to, whatever opportunities may present themselves..

.. if and when they come, I will be waiting.

Happy Holidays, all...

Bear

Fractal Vegetables

2007-11-04T10:09:00.001-05:00

I came across this amazingly beautiful and intricate vegetable while perusing a library book yesterday... (yes, I know its pathetic; I actually take out books from the library about vegetables. ....You don't know the half of it!)

I was at once stunned and enchanted by the spiraling patterns within patterns.. the impossible beauty... Why haven't I ever heard of these things before now?!?!

There was no label identifying the photo in the book, so it took me a little digging around to find out what on earth I was looking at.

And so, my friends. Without further ado, I introduce to you -

The 'Broccoflower'.

Thanks to Syd - (who has de-lurked in order to lend me a hand!), I have learned that this thing is actually called a -

'Romanesco Cauliflower'

or a -

'Romanesco Cabbage'

I have learned cool stuff!! Thanks again, Syd! Don't be a stranger!

Is this thing cool, or what?!?! - AND - you can EAT IT!!! HA!!

Bear's Haints

2007-10-26T18:11:00.000-04:00

In answer to my wife's post; "Marcheline's Haints", I have decided to post a few of the pics that I took on our spooky little Graveyard Jaunt; Some have been played about with, most have not... I'll leave it up to you pick-out the 'messed about' ones from the virgins. (Always a positive thing to have a few virgins to mess about with, I always say...) (Well... this is actually the first time I have ever said that... but, I'll make a point of saying it from here on out.. Scout's Honor!!)

"Lines and Shadows"

"Endless Solitude"

"Spooky Steeple"

"A Wave From the Grave! - (Hey! That's Me!)"

"Dead, and Lichen it!"

"Tomb it May Concern..."

"A Pillar of the (Dead) Community"

"Obelisk"

"We 'Spectre' 'Round These Parts Here Pretty Soon! "

"City of the Dead"

"Shadows... and Shades"

"Grave Thoughts"

"Haunted Tree"

"The End of Days Comes for Us All..Eventually"

Well, folks... there ya have it. Happy Halloween!

Back in 'The World'.

2007-10-21T13:49:00.000-04:00

I have returned from my period of resident monastic training. It was tough... long days (18 to 21 hours), hard work, harsh discipline... but it was, well... profound. Life-changingly so... though I suspect that it may take me some time to fully appreciate what I mean by this... I *do* feel very much transformed by the experience, however. Much as I did upon completing basic training in the military.. You are different, and you feel different, but you aren't capable of seeing the change in yourself until much after the fact for some reason.

The long hours of exhaustion, meditation, enforced silence (there is no talking, eye contact, or even noises made by rustling or fidgeting, clearing the throat, sighing, etc., allowed), and manual labor force your normally outwardly focused attention to turn inward. There is deliberately very little to no outside stimuli at all, and your mind simply turns itself inside out in search for something to do.

This can get sticky.. as you begin to confront issues and events that you would otherwise have kept well hidden away... since you have no way of escaping them, you are forced to work with them, and, hopefully, eventually to put them to rest, or, at least... to accept them for what they are, learn what can be learned from them.. put them down.. and move on.

Time becomes an increasingly abstract concept, as watches are not allowed, and there are no clocks. Commands and instructions are given through a series of sound signals; gongs, clappers and chimes, the occasional vocal command or announcement (though these are kept to a minimum..), and hand signals (also kept to a minimum).

You are left with your own mind. Your own mind stripped bare of all of its masks, all of its accoutrements, and most (if not all) of its falsehoods and facades.

It can be unattractive. Revolting. Ugly. Frightening. ... and, eventually beautiful. With work... and very strict attentiveness, a glimpse of your actual reality and substance can be marvelous in its unadulturated 'suchness'. You are just like 'this' at this very moment... but the moment is flowing and changing and morphing... and so are you!! There is no such thing as a finished human being... we are all in a constant state of flux... and, like a silk kerchief sliding off the edge of a smoothly polished table, our lives flow without hitching up on anything.. without snagging... and without hesitation... the hesitations and snags are all in our perceptions... but life flows of its own accord, whether we are capable of seeing it or not. Like writing the story of our lives on the surface of water, we are constantly coming into existence and dissolving away simultaneously... although most of us cannot see this as it is happening.

We look inward to find our past... and outward to search for our future... but past, present, and future only exist as concepts in our minds... they are all compressed into the instantly and unceasingly flowing moment of now.

To be completely here right now is to truly embrace and engage life. To be fully here, without avoiding or averting what we dislike or fear, and without constantly seeking after what we want, or what we believe that we need is to be utterly and completely alive in the world such as it is.

And then we feel a yellow jacket land on our face, or wish that we had a doughnut.. and all of that disappears in a flash and we are back in a world of our own making...

And then we start all over again!

As I was on my way back home, I stopped to put gas in the vehicle at a station in rural upstate New York. As I was walking towards the front door of the place, a burly and very scruffy looking character looked at me through narrowed eyes. He was rough-looking, in dirty clothes, a weeks growth of beard, and sporting a set of 'Billy-Bob' teeth like tombstones... each pointing in its own direction, and each a slightly different shade of an indistinct color in the gray-green-yellow-brown spectrum. He walked into the place just ahead of me, and as I turned to look behind me, holding the door for the person I could hear coming after me, I saw a very large lumber-jack looking fellow in rubber waders, and a torn up green janitorial shirt, with a lantern jaw and piercing blue eyes. (He wouldn't have looked particularly out of place dressed in wolf pelts with a horned helmet and a huge ax in his large gnarly hands.)

There were a number of other equally troublesome-looking types inside the place, all looking at me.

(Fuck! Here we go!) I thought, as I approached the counter and got into line.

'Teeth' turned around to look me boldly in the face, and fully expected some type of challenge to issue forth...

He smiled a huge smile.. with those teeth of his... then jerked his chin towards the window on the far side of the building through which a large lake or pond was visible, and said, "At leasht shomebody is having shome fun! Them Geeshe shure are beatiful to look at!"

I looked where he had indicated, and flock of Canadian Geese were flapping and frolicking in the water, and they were, indeed, very, very beautiful to look at!!

I looked back at my friend, with new eyes, and returned his frank, open, innocent, and completely unassuming smile.. sharing and enjoying the moment with him. We conversed for a few moments, he told me that he had just finished cutting acres of hay, and now he was on his way to cut acres of grass.

The lumberjack cut in, asking me if I was one of the Zen Monks. I admitted that I was, and he smiled a huge smile, offered his hand, and said, "I always wanted to actually meet one of you folks, but I've always been shy about just walking up and trying to start a conversation... do you like being a monk?? Is it hard?? Can anybody do it??"

Once again, my perceptions were turned on their head by the reality of the situation, and spoke with him for a little while. Other folks offered their comments and smiles, and soon it was time for me to pay the cashier and head out.. to a chorus of "Safe trip!" and "Take care, now!" and other well-wishes... from total strangers.

I could not have been more mistaken in my pre-judgment of these people if I had tried. My instant judgment of these people was entirely based upon my own pre-existing attitudes, opinions, preferences, and aversions... rather than upon the reality of the situation.

I am grateful to life for being such a wonderful teacher... and to my Zen practice for giving me the clarity and calmness of mind (some of the time) to recognize the teaching when it takes place.

I may have been transformed by my experience during this training retreat.. but, as I drove towards home down the highway, surrounded by mountains covered in the spectacularly vibrant autumn greens, golds, oranges, reds, and browns.. under an impossibly high and freshly scrubbed sky, It occurred to me that, clearly, life wants me to know that there is much more in store for me to learn before it is all over.

I am always and constantly arriving...

So, What's the Deal?!

2007-10-07T12:47:00.000-04:00

I am a patient man.. no.. really!! I am *extremely* patient...

I don't mind waiting...

I am the one who generally reminds others,... very gently..., that there is no reason to get uptight when faced with a delay..

But.. (yes... there's always a but, isn't there?)

Here's my question;

What *exactly* is so FRIGGIN' difficult about using an ATM??

The directions are right there ON THE SCREEN!!

You get to pick your own language!!

Chances are - YOU HAVE DONE THIS BEFORE!!

ATMs aren't new any more...

Soooooo......

Why?

Why?

Why?!

WHY!!??!!

WHY is this so difficult??

Not for nothin'... (what does that even mean??)... but, I can exit my vehicle, approach the ATM, perform whatever transactions I require, and be back in my vehicle with the seatbelt on in about 90 seconds... and I am not world-renowned for being the fastest-moving human being on earth!!

So why is it that I so often end up standing in the vestibule of the bank, ATM card in hand, watching some ~~jackass~~ - uh... technologically challenged individual ham-handedly stabbing away... apparently at random.. or playing the world's longest game of "Guess my PIN Code!" ??

But really though... is it me??

I don't understand how this is so difficult... um, maybe that would be because

IT ISN'T!!! THAT'S WHY!!!

I have a suggestion that perhaps some of you lurking bank managers might wish to employ...

I was thinking that these unfortunate intellectually-deprived banking customers may be in need of some assistance. Just a little help in moving things along... hopefully a little faster than molasses in January.. cuz, honestly?? The folks that I am referring to move like old people fuck, okay?!

Here is what I have in mind;

I thought that the banks might wish to employ some retired Drill Instructors who might be interested in making a few bucks on the side... to stand alongside each slowly moving ATM user... and, um... ASSIST that individual by offering some helpful hints, at a somewhat elevated volume, including such methods as calling the relative intelligence level, ancestry, appearance, hygenic habits, sexual proclivities, general competence, and personality of said customer into question... publicly... and graphically... while invading their personal space in an exceedingly intimidating manner...

I figure that while it may not actually speed things up, it may afford those of us who are forced to stand and watch for painfully long and unnecessary lengths of time at least a modicum of amusement.

Just a suggestion..

Having served as a Drill Sergeant and Senior Drill Sergeant, I would be happy to schedule an interview, and, I think I may be able to suggest some particularly well-qualified applicants...

That's me.. always trying to be of some small help!

Orgasm Soup

2007-10-06T23:54:00.000-04:00

1 bag black eyes peas (dried)

1 48 oz can chicken broth
1 16 oz can chicken broth
1 16 oz can beef broth
Water - 2 48 oz canfuls
1 chicken (2 to 2½ lbs)whole
1 large yellow onion cut into sixths
2 turnips - peeled and cut into one inch cubes
1 parsnip - peeled and cut into ¼" to ½" cubes
5 red potatoes cut into thumbtip sized chunks
5 bay leaves
2 to 3 tablespoons salt
2 tablespoons pepper
1 to 2 teaspoons rosemary
3 pinches cumin

½ Lb Andouille sausage
olive oil
1 white onion - cut into dice-sized pieces
8 cloves garlic
1 bunch fresh spinach - wash and remove stems
1 package fresh mushrooms - cut into fingertip sized chunks
1 quarter cup of half & half

1 half head of green cabbage - slice into ½" strips
1 leek - carefully quarter lengthwise, wash thoroughly, ensuring all sand and dirt have been removed, then cut into 2" pieces.

1 16 oz can corn (kernels)- drained
1 16 oz can peas - drained

Soak black eyed peas in lukewarm water for 30 minutes, scooping out any chaff that floats to the top of the water. Gently scrub peas by agitating them with your hands. Drain and set aside.

Rinse chicken and place in a large soup pot (LARGE! ours is approximately 4 gallons)
Pour chicken broth, beef broth and water into pot, adding as much additional water as necessary to cover chicken under 2 to 3 inches of liquid, add turnips, yellow onion, parsnips, potatoes, bay leaves, salt, pepper, rosemary and cumin. Put on high heat and boil for 1 hour or until chicken meat is loose enough to easily pull from bones.

While chicken and vegetables are boiling, make a small 'boat' out of aluminum foil, peel garlic cloves, place in boat, drizzle with a small amount of olive oil, sprinkle with salt & pepper and broil until tops of garlic are slightly charred. Remove from oven, mince with a sharp knife, place back in aluminum foil boat, and set aside.

In a large frying pan, brown andouille sausage in olive oil, remove from pan, slice in half lengthwise, and cut into thumbtip sized chunks.

Cut white onion into similarly sized chunks as sausage, place both back into pan on medium to high heat, add garlic and simmer until onions caramelize and sausage is evenly browned on all sides.

Add spinach and simmer until spinach wilts.

Add mushrooms, stir so that mushrooms become completely coated with oil in pan, simmer until mushrooms begin to darken, and add half & half. Simmer for 10 to 15 minutes, add black eyed peas and two cups of the stock liquid. Boil for 2 to 3 minutes, stirring constantly. Lower heat, cover, and simmer slowly for 5 to 10 minutes.

Remove chicken from cooking pot, place on a large cutting board, and, using two forks, pull chicken meat from bones, separating into bite sized chunks. Use caution - chicken will be very hot inside!! (bones and skin may be discarded).

Once chicken is removed from pot, add leeks and cabbage to the stock.

Boil stock at a rolling boil for 10 minutes or so, then add Andouille sausage/onion/garlic/spinach/mushroom/peas mixture to stock pot.

Add chicken meat to stock pot, along with corn and peas.

Stir until everything is thoroughly mixed, lower heat and cover. Simmer on low heat for 1 to 1½ hours, stirring once every 20 minutes or so.

Serve with buttered pumpernickel bread and enjoy!!

Serves one regimental sized unit or one small island nation.

Have fun!!

Awesome!!

2007-10-06T01:12:00.000-04:00

We just got back from having Marcheline's tattoo done, and it is amazing!! Absolutely fantastic!! I really like it! Wow!!

.. and here it is!

Marcheline's design and concept initially, with bigtime kudos to Stacey Sharp of Ink Alternatives in Ronkonkoma, NY for the unbelievable skill and artistry!! She took Marcheline's design and really ran with it!

An INKling...

2007-10-05T18:02:00.000-04:00

We are off in about two minutes to get a brand new tattoo for Marcheline!!

I will post pics when it is all done!

(This is my 5th Wedding Anniversary Present to her... she's the best wife anyone could ever hope for!!)

SeeYaBye!

Wood

2007-09-29T13:00:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was our 5th Wedding Anniversary!! (The traditional gift is 'Wood' I have learned... I was curious to know whether the fifth anniversary was the 'linoleum anniversary' or the 'tin anniversary' or what.. well, it's wood. Wood is cool.)

I am thrilled to celebrate five years of a stupendously marvelous, wondrous, and unparalleled marriage! I couldn't find a better wife, lover, best-friend, confidant, teammate or partner if I were to search the entire world.. through all of time. I am the luckiest man alive.

We are actually celebrating our anniversary throughout this entire weekend.. and we are having, as always, a blast!!

I am ever so grateful to be who I am, where I am, and able to pass on this news!!

I am looking forward to many, many more anniversaries, holidays, birthdays, occasions, and just ordinary (even though none of our days are actually ordinary..) days spent with my gorgeous, sexy bride.

I could sit here and blog more... but I have a wife to be with.. so, I am outta here, like Vladimir!!

... till next time!

Smoothing out the Wrinkles

2007-08-21T19:29:00.000-04:00

Some time ago, I requested that my teacher give me full ordination as a monk (I am currently a Sramenara ((also known as Samenara)) which is a novice monk.)

He told me that he would give it thought, and, after some period of time, met with me to discuss the issue, and decided to put the matter off for some months while he mulled it over and while he also paid close attention to my practice, analyzed my reasons for seeking such ordination, observed my general demeanor and level of understanding, etc., etc. All of the things that a Zen Priest and Teacher is supposed to do when confronted with such a request.

This past week, he sat down with me and advised me that he is willing to ordain me, once I have completed the requisite residency training. (I completed my residency training in a different order, but this doesn't translate or transfer directly over... I more or less had to start over, but the pace has been somewhat accelerated. )

Although I was eager to attend the training, even though it is quite difficult, I was confronted with a problem; I don't live in Asia any longer... and in this country there is no infrastructure whereby the monastic community receives material support from the laity. I have to work in order to support myself.

I was concerned that this may be a huge (read: 'insurmountable') obstacle in my path. But, a good Zen Cook takes what ingredients he has, and makes the best meal possible (as I have said in a previous post..).. and I went to my boss and asked if I could have the time off. After the screaming and yelling ended, I was more or less convinced that any possibility of getting time off from work was more or less non-existent.

When I relayed this to my teacher (perhaps hoping secretly that he would offer some other way for me to meet the prerequisites... um.. no dice! You gotta walk the walk.. and that's pretty much that... which, all things considered, is part of what makes it all worthwhile to me.), he nodded sagely, made an odd smile, and said, very quietly, "Keep trying."

So, I went home, sat down, and wrote a letter to my supervisor, the general manager, also addressing the letter to the office manager and to the president of the company.

I explained my reason for requesting the time off, what the training would consist of, who, what, where, why, and how... everything that I could think of that would help them to understand precisely what it was that I would be doing....

I wanted to make it clear that this wasn't a pretext to take a couple of days off... this won't be the easiest way to pass the time; quite the opposite, actually...

I explained in the letter that the person who would be presiding over the training may very well likely not be around to offer such training again; he is 100 years old, and it wouldn't be unreasonable to think that he may not be around for very much longer. Each day that he remains with us is a blessing, and a miracle.

I made it a point to simply leave the letter on my boss's chair, and to not pressure him in any way. I made no reference to it whatsoever.

I went into his office to confer with him on a project that I am working on, and he said to me, "Tell the office manager which days you will be taking off.."

Pleasantly surprised, I said, "Thank you!"

"How could I refuse this?? What? I'm gonna say 'no!' to this?? - Just go tell him what days you will need. We'll miss you while you are gone."

And that was that!

The next obstacle is a financial one... I am working on it, and waiting to hear what the results will be. If this problem is solved, I will be able to take the next step in my journey from warrior to priest.

It seems as though the way is being smoothed out for me by unseen forces... perhaps it is just the way things work out.. In any case, I have managed to come a lot further than I could have hoped.

When and if I am able to find out what the schedule will be like, providing I am able to obtain a syllabus, I will post it here... If not, I will post a fairly close approximation in order to give you an idea of what this type of training consists of...

Who knows? Within the next couple of years, I very well may be posting about my impending ordination!

I know that the road will become more and more difficult as I move along it... My teacher will expect me to take more and more responsibilities in the running of the center, and in doing the things that are expected of a fully ordained monk. He will test my understanding, my resolve, my patience, my endurance and stamina, and my resourcefulness.... and if he is convinced that my vocation is sincere, he will set a date for the ceremony.

If he has done his job properly, and if I have done mine, it will be much like my wedding in the sense that it will simply be a public declaration of something that is already present... something that is as much a part of me as my heart. Something from which I cannot be separated... much as the river cannot be separated from the ocean once it has flowed into it...

Now I must begin to prepare myself for the upcoming ordeal. I will have to work harder, solidify my practice, and learn not to cling to comforts. They will be in short supply for the duration....

But, this is what it means to be a monk!

Afterthought

2007-08-14T18:27:00.000-04:00

My mom sent me a pair of semi-frantic emails, apologizing profusely for 'going off' on me. Apparently, she remembered that we had just spoken a few days prior, and I suppose she reconsidered the diatribe and felt that it was an unjust flaming after all.

I told her there were no worries... I don't particularly enjoy being 'gone off' on... but, well... she's my mom... and she's old... and I am sure that she must deal with a great deal of frustration, and a host of other things that create suffering, loss of dignity to some extent, not to mention loneliness and all of the other bits that come along with age and infirmity....

She lives very far away, and I know that she is feeling the pressure of time which makes the separation from family all the more difficult for her.

I find that it is mildly disturbing to me to see this note of near panic in my mom's personality. She has always been this sort of 'larger than life', powerful, domineering personality. As a parent, she was extremely stern and authoritative, (well, tyrannical would be slightly more honest...), as well as verbally, emotionally, and physically abusive/violent at times.. Which, I suspect, she must have perceived as a show of strength or something, presumably to seize and maintain control (Of us? Of life? Who knows?? In any case, control is an illusion, and trying to maintain it causes suffering for everybody...)

As I got older, I learned that I was stronger when I was gentle than when I tried to be 'tough' or confrontational... and I learned that I always had the power to excuse myself from contact with anyone. Including my mom.

I don't threaten or flaunt this power... but, on the occasions when I have little or no options - I simply fade away... and I am gone. And in this case, this is the sound of one hand clapping; silence!!

I felt, upon reading her email to me, that she feared that I would simply stop communicating with her, or perhaps close the routes of communication altogether..

.. and this saddens me for some reason.

I explained to her that I don't really attach to these situations or circumstances.. and that I had simply figured that we (she and I) had gotten our wires crossed for some reason, and that this mis-communication was the reason that she had gotten angry with me...

In any case, I set her mind at ease, and no harm done.

Except that it made me open my eyes to the fact that my mom is old, and lonely, and weak, and frightened.

And this is what is in store for most of us... (those who get themselves killed in other, more dramatic fashion, or at a younger age, are excused.)

Old age, failing health, and death. I am of the nature to suffer these things. I cannot escape it, and I cannot forestall it. There is no way to avoid it, nobody and/or nothing to fight, negotiate with, coerce, extort, or plead with..

There is nothing to do...

Nowhere to turn.

She will die. Everyone that I know will die. And I will die.

... Now. What do I do with that??

No religion, philosophy, or ideology has the answer... life cannot be 'solved'. It can only be lived... moment by moment.

Only by standing upon my own two feet, and by being a lamp unto myself rather than trying to depend on other sources for answers; and by cultivating a calm, nimble, non-attaching mind do I have any hope of being able to come to terms with these simple truths.

I find myself wondering how my Mom copes now... and how she will cope with whatever is to come in the future.

In this country, in our society, I find that nobody *ever* wants to consider that they are going to die... they run around, gathering things to keep; as though there is some attainable goal that will render one too wealthy to age or die. Or, on the other side of the equation, are the folks to try to calculate the exact distance that they can walk, run, or bike, and the number of 'healthy' foods that they must ingest, while avoiding a single teaspoon of ice cream throughout their entire life, that will keep them immortal and allow them to live forever.... but, this is nonsense, and we all know it on some level. There is nothing that is going to change the way things are. We are mortal. We live for some period of time... and then we die. And that, my friends, is that. There is no point in hurrying, because everyone's destination is the same... yes, some will say that we can prolong our life by being healthy, and I agree...

... but, the truth of the matter is that we are all just quibbling over a few short years, because, in the end... we are all going out 'feet first'. Period.

This isn't to say that I am a nihilist or pessimist or negative... because it isn't negative... it is simply the way it is. It is actually perfect just the way it is. The problem isn't that we die... the problem is complex, but, essentially, we expect that a reason for our life should be provided for us (we make our own reason, if a reason is needed at all.. ((I don't personally feel that I need a reason.. I am alive... that's all of it. The reason is sort of beside the point.)), and the other part of the problem is that we want to avoid death, and that we want our questions answered and our problems solved... but, there aren't any answers... there aren't any solutions, and we can want to avoid death every moment of our lives, and we will still be dead and as an added bonus, we will have squandered the time we had worrying about something that is unavoidable.

I guess the major question that springs to my mind is not 'How can I avoid dying?' - because that's, well, sort of ridiculous... because I can't. What is most important is what happens right now??! How do I live?! How do I do my utmost at whatever I happen to be doing.. in each and every moment, as it takes place??

How do I improve my life RIGHT NOW?

How do I become a better person NOW?

How do I respond correctly to each situation AS IT OCCURS?

How do I help others in the way that they most require my help - NOW?

How do I help my mom??

I think I helped a little... I doubt that she considers very much more that what she wants at the moment.. and that is for all of her family to be gathered around her in her last days.

Unfortunately, I don't see how that can work out... Visits, perhaps... but, like everything else, they are impermanent, and, in my experience, are spent almost entirely discussing when the next visit will be and how it will be arranged, and what we will do, and what we will say, and who else can make it, etc., etc.

I thought that this was peculiar at the time... but when I pay close attention to how people behave in their day to day lives (and I do, by the way... very, very close attention...), I realize that everyone does this very same thing to some extent.

Instead of being alive fully and completely no matter what they happen to be doing, so many people defer living until 'this' happens, or 'that' happens.

The problem is that 'this' and 'that' are only words... and they will only ever be accessible in the present moment. The present moment is when everything and everyone is accessible to us. And one day they will all be gone... people, things, and moments alike. Because when you are gone... the universe goes with you.

I would like to see my Mom wake up and learn to live in the present moment. I would like to see her become like a Zen Cook, who doesn't complain about the ingredients that he doesn't have, but who takes stock of what he does have, cleans the kitchen, and sets about preparing the most nutritious and delicious meal that is possible with the ingredients at hand.

Life happens NOW. There isn't any time for indulging in anger, or bitterness, or frustration.

The way is to simply take what life unfolds before you, and do the very best that you can with it, while still remaining divorced from any expectation or hope for the outcome. In this way however things turn out... they are exactly right... because they are exactly how they are... and that 'suchness' is precisely what it happens to be - and you can't get more perfect than that!!

Facing a New Week...

2007-08-12T23:05:00.000-04:00

Friday I missed work; I had been up all night with fierce stomach cramps and some other adventures that needn't be expounded upon... suffice it to say that I was not fit to leave the house for any reason of less import than fleeing a fire or some other life-threatening reason.

I felt marginally better Friday evening... and by Saturday felt more or less human. This was fortunate, since Saturday was my wife and my 'Eclipse Anniversary' which I wouldn't want to miss...

Today we woke up and ground some fresh coffee-beans and while listening to 'Sunday Baroque' on NPR enjoyed our coffee in the garden while we played a couple of games of chess with Jack (the outside cat) at our feet.

Afterwards, we sat quietly and just enjoyed the morning. I was watching what was quite possibly one of the largest dragonflies I had ever seen in all of my life as it alternately perched on a limb at the top of a tree in the neighbor's yard two houses away... the tree is perhaps 80 to 100 feet tall.. (I told you it was a huge dragonfly!! -- we are estimating ((well.. guesstimating, really... but still... we are fairly close, I think...)) that it had to have been about 10" to a foot long from wingtip to wingtip... so, even if we are inadvertently exaggerating, and you take away the 2" extra resulting from the 'Holy shit!' factor... it is still a monster of a bug!! -- as I had been saying, I was watching it as it would perch on the top of a huge Catawba tree... and then it would take off and fly around up there, presumably hunting for breakfast... and then, I guess when it caught something it would return to its perch and munch away... I was getting more and more blown away as it became apparent that its size wasn't the result of an optical illusion... it was just BIG!! Birds would fly very close to it at times, and that let me guess its size relative to them... I also wondered what went through their pea-brains when they got a look at this fella sitting up there contentedly munching away on water buffalo or draft horses or whatever the hell it eats!!

While we were looking at the dragonfly, the birds, and the various butterflies that popped by to inspect the flowers or play in the mist from the sprinklers, we saw another creature that sort of defies description; The closest thing that it resembled was something half way between a moth, and a bat. It had a sort of wedge-shaped body, or was carrying something... I couldn't really tell (I was sort of caught by surprise by the sight of this thing, to be honest....), and wings that resembled the wings of a Leonardo DaVinci Flying Machine... with a curved front surface and a sort of membranous trailing edge. The body was very dark in color, and the wings were a reddish-sorta-burnt-orange in color. It didn't do a great deal of flapping... more gliding... with a very occasional lazy flap every so often. The body looked as though it was hanging from the wings more than between them, which is what made me wonder if whatever the heck it was was carrying something. It flew by in one direction, went behind some trees, and then flew back out again before flying off... so I only really got a couple of glimpses of it for perhaps eight to ten seconds in total. After it had gone, I sort of just sat there, mystified, trying to make what I had seen gel with some creature in my mental catalog of living things... and I couldn't. Has anybody else seen anything that sounds like what I have described??

After sitting in our garden for a while, I made a salad, and we ate in companionable silence before heading up to the Zen Garden to weed and harvest altar flowers, and then over to the Zen Center to trim and rake and sweep and clean. We watered whatever needed watering, straightened and neatened, and put away dishes and cups and whatever other doo-dads needed puttin' away... and then, after a brief stop to pick up a cold drink for each of us, headed towards home, stopping to do some grocery shopping on the way.

Marcheline made some of her ass-kicking salsa when we got home, and we watched a DVD together and ate chips and salsa. It was a nice peaceful evening.

Until.

My mom called and left a message on my voicemail sort of hammering me because she 'hasn't been able to get in touch with me for over six weeks' -- which sounds like a legitimate complaint, except for the fact that I spoke with her just this past week. So, what do I do with that?? I'm not going to tell her that we just spoke last week and make her feel like an ass... so I suppose when I talk to her, I will just let her rail at me and tell her that I will do my best not to let it happen again.

She said "That's a very long time and is unacceptable... even for a monk!!"

This seems to be the angle that anyone and everyone who ever gets annoyed or angry with me takes; they play the 'monk' card. As in, "You know... I thought monks were supposed to be.... [insert favorite characteristic of the moment here], or, "if this monk thing doesn't help you to be [flavor of the month again] I don't see what good it is."

Monks are 'supposed' to be like the monks that one sees on television and in the movies. It's all 'grasshopper this' and 'grasshopper that' -- smiles and doing whatever it takes to make everyone feel however they would like to be made to feel at any given moment.

Well..... Wrong.

Monks feel anger, and they fart, and they eat, and they sometimes feel that it is a responsibility to break someone away from their attachments and from their views.

And some people don't like this... wrong views and faulty perceptions cause suffering. Attachments cause suffering. Facing reality is not always so easy.

In Korea there is a proverb that translates to approximately; "Garbage people become monks, garbage monks become Zen monks, garbage Zen monks become Buddha..."

This means that fundamentally, those human beings who have a mystical or monastic calling are most often dissatisfied with society as they see it, perceive it, or experience it... and wish to follow a path that will allow them to perceive truth, or reality, or what some would term the divine, or god, or GOD or what have you....

This dissatisfaction most often results in these people being perceived as being somehow odd, different, strange, or separate from 'the rest of us' in some way by most people with whom they come into contact.

Initially, the monastic experience then separates these individuals even further from society... in some cases this is permanent... so, taking the robe and the bowl is, in effect, entering the coffin... dying to the world... and extinguishing the notion of a separate self. In many cases, at least among Zen Monastics, this period of separation comes to an end, and the Zen Monk is expected to return to society and to engage the world... sometimes as a Priest or monk, sometimes as a 'civilian' who is not recognizable in any outward way as a monk... or as a former monk... (though recognizably different to those who perhaps come to know these individuals...)

It is not the function of a monk to prop up or to support whatever perception, notion, belief, illusion, or what have you that somebody may hold... it is the function of a monk to hold up a mirror to that person, and to help them to experience reality through their own experience.... and, at times, this experience may not be the most pleasant experience.... life is difficult, life is confusing, and life throws us curves... it cannot be 'solved', there isn't an 'answer' and monks don't always behave in a set pattern. So... to those of you who feel that I should meet or approximate whatever belief you may hold regarding my vocation, I suppose I have to say this; Insomuch as I adhere to the precepts of my order, the direction of my teacher, and my own personal judgment of what is true function in any given circumstance or situation... that is *precisely* how a monk acts!! If you were expecting something else, the problem may very well be with your expectation.

In those cases where the problem is with my behavior, I offer this; If I were already perfect, I would not feel any need to submit myself or to devote myself to the harsh discipline of a monastic lifestyle. I am a simple monk struggling to learn what I can and deepen my practice.... not a saint, not a god, and certainly not enlightened in any way, shape or form.

I don't have the answers... I don't even have the questions!!

So... to my mom, when you cannot get in touch with me when you would like, it probably doesn't have anything whatsoever to do with my monastic practice, unless I happen to be engaged specifically in that practice when you are trying to contact me, in which case I am a very good monk indeed.... but more with the fact that life happens... and it unfolds to each of us in whatever fashion it happens to take.... and we have to respond to that... so, unfortunately, I am not always available to answer the telephone, or to pick one up to call.... this is not indicative of disrespect or a lack of love on my part... it just means that time is a finite resource, and that perhaps I am not so great at managing it.

For those who ask me 'Monk Questions' and then get pissed off at me when I don't give the answer you wanted... all I can do is respond in the best way I am able.

Q: "Why am I here?"

A: "On Long Island?? I thought you lived here?"

Q: "NO!! Why am I alive... on earth!!?? Does life have a purpose?? Why am I HERE??!"

A: Well... to this sort of question, all I can really do by way of response, is to ask a question of my own; "Are you REALLY here??".

It sounds as though I am being a wise ass... but I am not. If you are here... REALLY here... in the present moment... which is the only moment that is ever available to you.... this is not a question that bears answering. Go drink some tea! Wash your cup! Look at the clouds in the sky!

As to the other big question, "What happens when I die?" -- well, that is a question that will answer itself in time... but my question is, "What happens RIGHT NOW while you are alive??"

No ideology has the answers, folks... life is a process that we take with each breath.... I am not the same person at this moment that I was when I began to write this sentence... but, nothing has been lost.... I don't exist... but here I am!! My experience is not your experience... I cannot give anyone answers to these questions...

If you were to come to me and ask me to serve you tea, but you had no cup... I couldn't serve you tea by pouring it directly into your open mouth, or into your hands... the tea would scald you and it would ruin the floor mats or the carpet...

You would need a cup before I could serve you.... and in any case, I couldn't tell you how the tea tastes... you would have to have a cup, and then you would have to drink your tea!!

In the same way, I cannot give answers to questions.... I can only help you to find a cup... and then I can serve you some tea...

... You have to drink it yourself.

Now I have to go to sleep... tommorrow starts a new week.... and there will be a lot of tea to drink!!

Go get yourself a cup!

Eclipse Anniversary

2007-08-11T19:47:00.000-04:00

My wife and I celebrate two anniversaries: Our wedding anniversary, and the anniversary of our first date, upon which we became a couple... and have remained so, quite happily, for eight years as of today!!

The night of our first date happened to be the night of the last eclipse of the millennium... so we refer to it as our 'Eclipse Anniversary'. It was the night of the last eclipse of the 20th century... and of our first kiss as a couple.

There have been many kisses since that night... many hugs... many dreams shared, and many that have been made to come true. We have cooked and enjoyed countless meals... laughed more than I can even manage to convey... and have come to know one another more intimately than most people ever do, I think... In many cases, I have heard that this results in contempt between people... but, in our case it has made us love and respect one another more and more deeply as the years have passed and we have been privileged to see one another's character shine through when it counted.

The past eight years have been the happiest and the best of my life... I have learned what really matters... I have learned to give... and I have learned to accept. I have learned what it is to truly have a friend; a very best friend.
We have been through difficulties that would have crushed most relationships... and, I am sure, has... many times. We have faced adversaries, faced defeat, and faced fear together... we have lived, loved, persevered, and triumphed together.

When nobody saw the good in me... she stood by my side, took my hand in hers... and gave me her heart to safeguard. When others turned their backs... she took me in her arms.

When I had nothing.. she gave me everything... and she continues to give each and every day.

I have learned about strength and gentleness from her... I have learned that being in love isn't something in a movie or in a book... it's not only what you are and what you do... but how you face each moment side by side.. I have learned that we are much more as a couple than we are individually... and I have learned that there is someone in this world that loves me so fiercely that I can I can feel it in my chest when I wake beside her in the middle of the night... and that when I let myself think about it... I can hardly breathe.

When I get knocked flat, she helps me to fly... and when my head is in the clouds, she grabs me and places my feet firmly back on solid earth.

I have learned that there is not a smile anywhere in all of the world that can light up a room like hers does... that are no hands that can work so hard, create such beauty, and bring such pleasure as hers do... no eyes that are so endlessly deep or that dance and glitter with as much mischief and mirth as her eyes do...

I have learned that there isn't another woman in all of time that I could ever love as deeply as I do this one....

She is beautiful to me... unpredictable as lightning... mysterious, amazing, fey, wondrous, and magickal...

And today I am ever so grateful that of all of the guys in the world...

... she chose me!

Snapping Back to Reality

2007-06-05T12:39:00.000-04:00

Sometimes events transpire to take place in just such a way that they serve to give you a sharp slap in the face, and, probably for the best of all concerned, snap you back to reality.

It is curious how we form our very own bubble of perception that we carry around with us... when the world, 'just as it is', is right there all the time.

Makes me wonder how I could have been wandering around in a fog for so long...

Well... everything is *exactly* what it is... just like that!!

Why have I been carrying all this nonsense around in my head for all this time??

Bear's 'Peculiar Family Habits' Vol. I

2007-05-31T20:57:00.000-04:00

I am of a somewhat strange ancestry... though 'strange' may be a misnomer; at least in the United States where many of us have rather... ahh... interesting ancestral backgrounds.

On my dad's side, not so strange; Scottish on his mom's side, and Scottish on his dad's side... all the way back. Scottish. Period.

On my mom's side, though;

My mom's dad was Scottish, English, and Chinese (That ancestor's name was Chen En-Yeng, who was an immigrant to Jamaica).

My mom's mom (my grandmother who you may recognize as 'Nana' in some of my previous posts... Nana more or less raised me..) was Scottish and Welsh on her father's side - her dad was supposedly an illegitimate heir, on his mother's side, of Henry Morgan (of the 'Spiced Rum' fame... who also happened to have been a Welsh soldier who fought in the English Civil War, showed up in the West Indies, and became a pirate, later a privateer, and then Governor of Jamaica -- the usual disclaimer applies here, as this may be total and unadulterated bullshit.. but, that's the story as it was told to me... so who am I to go against the grain?), and on her mom's side claimed Irish (heir to the Earl of Ros common, supposedly... this one is actually true, and documented... but it isn't the kind of hear that ever actually inherits anything, thankfully... no worries about anyone plotting to poison me for my title!), Cornish.. (there were rumblings about the Duke of Devonshire.. I know that one existed, but I have never been able to find a concrete connection...), and Rroma (Gypsy) - this is sort of cool, except for the fact that in Rroma culture, when you marry a Gadje or outsider, you are expelled, ousted, given the boot... ostracized, as it were... and are no longer considered a Gypsy (so now I don't have to tell fortunes or steal or be oppressed, so I'm in luck!), Arawak Indian, and most likely African.

My grandmother was born in Jamaica, the West Indies... when it was still a British Colony, and came here when she was an adult. My Dad was born here, but his folks came over on the boat...

The man who I call my grandfather (Nana's husband; 'Pop') is actually no blood relation, having married into the family after my mom was born. My moms dad was an admiral in the Navy, and though I knew him, he wasn't really a big part of my life. Pop, however, raised me, more or less... to the extent that I took his name so that he would have an heir.

Now... as to the title of this post.

Some of the habits, traditions, superstitions, and other peculiarities of my family.

My grandfather wouldn't let you throw anything out. If you did, he brought it back, claiming that it was still good. If you tossed out moldy bread, he would bring it back, eat it... gagging the entire family... while proclaiming through a mouthful of green mold, "Penicillin!! Good!!" - Ack!!

When we drove past cemeteries, my grandmother would insist that everyone in the vehicle 'hold their buttons'.

My mom had a thing about us answering her from another room... she would call out a question from wherever she was... but if we had the temerity to yell out the answer, say 'What?!' or 'Huh?!' or even 'I'll be right there!' - we got our faces slapped through the back of our heads. If we didn't answer her and didn't arrive at her location instantly, on the other hand... we also got the shit slapped out of us. So it was a toss up, I guess....

My brother (the middle one) would fight with anyone, anywhere, under any circumstances... for any or for no reason... whether he (or they) needed it or not... This penchant has gotten his, and my asses kicked numerous times... once he cut the electric cord of the telvision.. with a pair of metal scissors.. because my mom changed the channel from a show that he sort of wanted to watch. He is arguably.. to this very day... one of the most stubborn people I have ever known. If not the most stubborn. I'm next in line..

You had to go out the same door you came in.

No hats on in the house. Or on the table.

No opening umbrellas.

No whistling in the house.

You couldn't cover a photo of a dead person.

My grandfather hated the concept of 'soaking' dishes... and would raise holy hell whenever my grandmother did that... which was basically every day.

My grandmother dressed to kill... and cooked the same way. She drove that way, too... but didn't know it... or at least didn't admit it.

A conversation regarding my grandmother's driving:

Nana: "I can drive on the side of a mountain!"

My Uncle: "Yeah. .... It's the roads that you have a hard time with."

My grandfather didn't go anywhere with the whole family. No vacations. No outings. No restaurants. Nothing. He would go out with any one of us at a time... but not with more than one. I have no idea why.

My grandfather and his entire family were Gaelic speakers. They would not, however, speak Gaelic outside of the house/family. Even to other Gaelic speakers. Whenever I asked about this, I would be 'shoosh!'ed.

If we got lost, everyone had to get out of the car and put something on inside out.

Every time the family got together, there was a big fight. With tables getting overturned and somebody bleeding.

My mom is terrified of the water.

We used to have proper 'tea'... much to the amusement of my friends...

My grandmother's cousin fought in WWI in the Canadian Army (He emigrated from Jamaica to Canada) and wrote a book about it, entitled "Private Peat". It was a best seller in its day.

My cousin wrote a book that was loosely based on our family history, entitled "Abeng". She has written quite a lot of books, actually. She is now estranged from the family because her parents passed judgment on her and gave her a hell of a time because of her sexual preference. This makes me sad. I don't care what her preferences are, so long as she is loved, and happy. Now I have no contact with her at all over this nonsense...

My grandmother was terrified of birds... but kept a few as pets for as long as I knew her. When my grandfather died, she insisted that he had become a seagull. This was disturbing to all of us.

My grandfather never once missed a day of school in his life, and never missed a day of work unless he was in the hospital. Once he was pronounced dead, but woke up and lived another eighteen years or so! He used to carry his obituary around in his pocket.

My grandmother died in a fall down a flight of stairs while out drinking with her friends to celebrate a clean bill of health from the doctor.

My granmother would send me entire letters in which she would discuss people that I had never in the whole of my life ever heard of... but she would discuss them as though I was supposed to know precisely who they were.

My brother, the middle one, was terrified of grass as a baby. (Happily, he grew out of it... and probably smoked most of it through his teens and twenties...)

My other brother, the youngest one, won't drive. He was a passenger in a motor vehicle accident in which his best friend, who was driving the car, was killed. The family blamed my brother on their son's death (unfairly, as far as I can see...), and he has never driven since then.

My grandmother's sister once had a tiger cub for a pet. When it started to knock her down, she gave it to a zoo. When she died, her son, who still lived with her, 'guarded' her body for days. When my mother and grandmother went to the house after not getting a response on the phone, he kept them hostage with a crossbow for a few hours... finally, they talked their way out of there and had him committed, and her buried.... ... okay.. that's weird.

My grandmother once told me a story that my mom, while living alone in an apartment before I was born, once got up out of bed to go to the bathroom, turned around, and saw herself still asleep in the bed. This scared the living crap out of her, and she fled the apartment and ran to a tavern either down stairs, or down the street, or at least somewhere within 'fleeing' distance... when the tavern owner returned to the apartment with her, the 'other' mom had apparently gotten up and left... though, knowing how long my mom took to get ready, I don't see how this could be possible... even if she was an infernal creature at the time. That happens to be the scary part of that story, as far as I'm concerned!

I remember eating 'chicken delight' with my grandmother while we watched the workmen working on the Verrazzano Narrows bridge.

My grandmother put on a show at the 65-65 World's Fair, and we used to go there every day when I was very small.

My grandmother used to talk to her plants. In response, they grew to unbridled sizes and shapes. We lived in a place that was dubbed 'The Congo' by the rest of the family. She could pick up a twig off of the ground and make it grow.

We had a cat, named 'Jego' who absconded from the vehicle while we were on the way back to Staten Island, NY from Rhode Island. We were actually still in Rhode Island, and had just visited, at my grandmother's insistence, the grave of a purported Gypsy Princess, or Queen, or somesuch piffle... and the cat shot out of the vehicle and headed off to parts unknown on foot. After five or six hours of looking, searching, crying, calling, and waiting... we sadly packed back into the old Valiant and headed home. A year later, Jego showed up at the door, still wearing his name tag.

My grandfather slept with all of the bedroom windows open, under only a sheet... no matter what time of year it was.

My brother -- yes, the 'middle one' -- could hit just about anything with a thrown object. You could be running through trees, and he could pick up a fallen crab apple, a monkey orange, or a rock, and nail you in the head with it while you were tearing along at full-tilt.

I eat my food one thing at a time. Everybody goes to great pains to patiently explain to me, as though to a drooling idiot, that all of the food will be subsequently mixed together in my stomach. (Thanks for that... in which case I fail to see what the big hurry is to mix it!)

My grandfather hated to see people take a drink of anything while they were eating. "Don't wash down your food!" -- Well... why the hell not?? If it's my food why can't I do what I like with it??!

My mom had a method of interrogating us where she would unfailingly catch us in a lie... particularly when we were telling the absolute truth. This was a tough one.

If, while she was beating the crap out of us, we cried.. she would accuse us of being 'pansies' 'petunias' and 'marys' -- and beat us all the harder.

If, while she was beating the crap out of us, we simply took the beating, and failed to cry, or otherwise show signs of discomfort, she would accuse us of being obstinate, stubborn, and defiant -- and beat us all the harder.

In my family, we use words like 'jook', 'weeber', 'feshivle', 'facokted', 'battyman', 'duppy', 'wunna', 'stramash', 'muckle', 'sasanach', and 'vex'.

I was told as a child that there was a creature who lived in the refrigerator, called a 'Hootie', and that it was this creature who turned the light on when you opened the fridge door.

We used to leave bowls of milk out for the 'good neighbors', also known as the 'gentry' or the 'wee people'. The milk was always gone the next day.

My grandmother used to insist that if you broke an egg into a glass of water at exactly noon on Good Friday, the shape of a large cross flanked by two smaller crosses would be formed by the egg (white? yolk? -- the egg-goo anyway...)

No matter how many times we did this to prove that it was a big pile of horseshit, she would still insist that it was true.

It was only after about ten or fifteen years after her death that it finally dawned on me that she was having us on the whole time, and probably having a good laugh about the whole thing!!

Plans & Specs

2007-05-26T11:52:00.000-04:00

The licensing process for the Real Estate thing has ~~turned out to be a major pain in the ass~~ taken on a life of its own, it would seem, and so far, nothing is happening; and I have no say regarding the time frame... so, as it turns out, all I can do is to wait and see what happens.

The rub is that the Broker who was sponsoring me decided that the process was taking much longer than he had anticipated, and that he was no longer willing to continue to pay me under the circumstances. This is understandable, actually... as a brokerage is not really set up to carry any body's weight, financially - the idea being that each agent brings in their own business, and that the brokerage takes a cut of that business (read: "The Lion's Share") in return for providing the resources to see the deal through to a successful completion..

This doesn't mean that the Real Estate thing is in the bin, just that it is on indefinite hold until the licensing situation goes through whatever permutations it must go through and a license mysteriously arrives in the mail one day... perhaps... If I am lucky....

In the meantime, I find it necessary to be able to earn a living... for, even though I am a monk, and, as such, not overly focused upon the more material side of things; I still must have a place to live, food to eat, and clothing to wear... and however humble those necessities may be, they still cost money. So.. I must work.

In Asia, there is an infrastructure in place that took form over centuries whereby the lay community and the monastic community support one another... the monastic community provides support in the form of both spiritual guidance and leadership, and in the less abstract form of manual labor when required. In return, the lay community provides support in the form of donated food, cloth, and medicine. In this country, this arrangement does not exist.. so, it is up to the individual monastic community to decide how to handle this situation. In our case, we work.. plain and simple. So, after a fashion, I have one foot in the monastic community, and one foot in the world.. which situation offers its very own particular set of benefits and obstacles.. but that is for another post.

I took a job as an "Architectural Estimator" for a manufacturing company. I described my scintillating interview technique in an earlier post entitled "Presence" whereby I simply sat there... like a bump on a log... and essentially said nothing at all of any value or substance... and got a job offer!! (Go figure!)

The job is 9AM to 5PM - Monday through Friday.. holidays off... with full medical benefits after three months... which isn't so bad! (I don't know the whys and wherefores of the benefits yet... it may very well turn out to suck very badly.. but I will cross that bridge when I come to it... from what I have been given to understand, however, it is not at all a bad arrangement.) My office is perhaps 10 to 15 minutes from my house... and the people are relatively nice... meaning that they basically leave me to my own devices; which I like.

My job is to receive requests for price quotes from material distributors, architects, and contractors; primarily for projects that involve public money, and are being bid on.

I receive a packet of product and material specifications.. and usually a set of blueprints, or plans... or simply a set of CAD drawings.

What I have to do is to read these documents, analyze them, and determine what, specifically -- both quantitatively and qualitatively -- the client requires for the project, and to then come up with a price that they can then use to come up with a bid estimate. If the bid is successful, we get the contract. This can range from a single item of less than one hundred dollars... to a contract involving millions of dollars...

The plans and specs are not always very clear in either content or meaning.. and in some cases, I am learning... a single word can completely change the meaning of the entire document! Miss that one word, and you have cost both the client, and your company a great deal of money! So.. attention to detail, and the ability to focus, despite endless interruptions, and all of the other workday distractions that crop up regularly. The upside of this is that I basically can show up, start working on my pile of 'stuff', and continue on with it until it is time to pack up and go home. And nobody bothers me!

I work in a cubicle, which I realize most people absolutely hate but, strangely, I actually like my cubicle.. (I know.. it's sort of pathetic... but, nevertheless...)

My wife gave me a plant to bring in to work with me... which I did... and it brightens the place up quite a bit! Over time, I will probably bring in other little doo-dads that will serve to lessen that certain impersonal ambiance that most cubicles have... I just don't want to rush in to things... even carrying in a plant, and my 'magnet ring' (I have a ring shaped magnet that came out of a motor or something... I have used it over the years as a paper clip holder... don't ask...) made me feel as though I looked like I was 'moving in'... which is sort of weird.

In any case, I like this job. It is somewhat tedious.. but you have to stay on your toes, otherwise you may end up having a conversation that entails providing an explanation to someone in authority regarding the six million dollars that they are no longer able to count on... and I do not wish to be party to such a conversation.

My training... or something.... consisted of about 15 minutes of a loose explanation followed by the recounting of the most recent historical fuck-ups made by my predecessors... and then I was sent off to sink or swim.

I have no experience in this sort of thing whatsoever... but, so far I am managing to hold my own. I learn a great deal each day... and hopefully I will catch on in due time.

On other fronts, I sort of feel like "The Omega Monk" - as everyone in the local Sangha (monastic community) is off in New Mexico for an extended retreat. I am the stay behind who is responsible for the running and the upkeep of the Zen Center. Well.. one other person has recently returned, so I suppose that isn't the case any longer in the strictest sense... but, for now, it is sort of quiet. We have the occasional lay person who shows up, but for the most part it has been exceedingly quiet... which is actually kind of nice!

We have gotten hit with quite a few instances of health related issues amongst our various relations... which tends to raise the stress level and put a bit of a damper on things since we are worried about our loved ones. What makes this particularly difficult is that there isn't a blessed thing that we can do to help. So.. we simply wait to hear whatever news is forthcoming. My wife is on her way right now to visit her father who was admitted to the hospital last night... we don't really know the full significance of this... but I suppose we will know in due course. I'm not sure whether this is good or bad.

Life takes its twists and turns, and carries us along with it... so I suppose that all we can do is try to roll with it and make out as best we can...

Not the most comforting advice.. but, probably truthful.

It is very warm here today... and quite humid. We sat on our patio this morning, drinking our coffee and watching the new crop of fledgling sparrows hurling themselves about as they try to learn to fly and land and take off and do all the things they must be able to do to be a fully qualified sparrow. They were making us laugh! Some of the little con artists still try to beg food from their parents by fluttering and opening their mouths... sometimes they get food, and sometimes they get a cuff about the head.. but I suppose its worth the try!

Well... thats pretty much the update, as far as I am concerned. I have a couple hours of solitude, and then I'm off to work!

Sunday Morning Coffee

2007-05-13T11:41:00.000-04:00

Eyes open.. beside me my wife dreams. I am warm under the covers... the room is still slightly dark, and a cool breeze is washing through the room. Casting aside the blanket, I get up and head for the bathroom to wash up and brush my teeth.

I quietly make my way downstairs and put on my monastic vestments in silence.

As I step outside and close the door behind me, a mourning dove coos somewhere in the distance. The air is still cool and the grass and leaves are moist with dew. I can feel the cool breeze on my ankles and on my face and head.

As I make my way to the Zendo, the morning is brightening slightly... I hear birds singing in a cacophony of mixed calls; mocking birds, the twitter of sparrows, wrens with their 'tea kettle - tea kettle' calls... I can hear a woodpecker working away at the trunk of a tree, in search of some particularly plump and tasty morsel hidden within.. more doves, a lark, and over the top of it all the raucous screeching of jays and crows, competing to see whether they can drown one another out.

As I enter the Zendo, I bow in greeting to one of the other monks who is the Jikijitsu, or timekeeper for the time being (we change offices from time to time, each person having a chance to fill various offices. I am Shoji these past months; It is my job to prepare and serve tea to the monastic/lay practitioners during our formal tea ceremony, and to see to the welfare of each member. The Jikijitsu and Shoji together are the two disciplinarians of the Zendo; The 'Jiki' is the 'Father figure' - harsher and more strident in doling out corrections and in redressing those who breach temple etiquette, whereas, the Shoji is the gentler 'Mother figure' who assists, encourages, and gently but firmly insists upon compliance with temple rules of conduct and etiquette. This 'Yin/Yang' pairing has been used in Zen Temples for over a thousand years... molding and shaping the minds of seekers who follow the Zen path.

Without a word, we set about preparing for the morning sitting. Once everything was just as it should be, the Jiki went to his place in the Zendo and sat. As Shoji, I remained standing by the entrance to greet and direct latecomers.

At the appointed time, I lit a stick of incense, and quietly entered the Zendo, approaching the Jiki, and bowing, then, after ceremoniously presenting the stick of incense to him, bowing again and exiting the Zendo while Jiki began to open the formal portion of the sitting. As he did his bows and prostrations, I slowly tapped out the ritual patterns on the 'Han' - the wooden block drum that calls the monastic community to the Zendo for formal Zazen, or seated meditation.

We sat, and chanted, the occasional chime and gong marking a counterpoint to the constant beat that I drummed on the Mokugyo, or wooden fish. After the chanting ended, we quietly assumed the formal sitting position for our meditation.. the monks moving fluidly, and silently, wasting very little movement... and the three chimes tapped out on the Inkin, or hand chime marked the beginning of the first sitting. The room was absolutely silent; there is no moving, adjusting, or scratching permitted during the formal sitting period - this is where the rather harsh and austere monastic discipline takes over. As the time passes, legs go numb, or cramp.. backs ache, and itches worry away - daring one to try to quickly scratch them away.. This mirrors life, where difficulties crop up at regular intervals to try to throw us off of our track. This is a lesson in impermanence, where we learn to develop an accommodating heart that is capable of enduring these periodic difficulties without succumbing to aversion or distaste, or panic, or overblown reaction... just as everything else in the cosmos, the difficulties arise and then they fade... and we learn that we don't necessarily have to 'do' anything about them! And, so learning, we are freed from the hold that they have over us... at least for now!

After a period of Kinhin, or walking meditation, we began the second sitting period.. after which we set to our assigned tasks during the silent work period, which is also part of our daily practice.

After the Jikijitsu and I cleaned and restored to Zendo to its former neat appearance, we stepped out into the bright sunshine, bowed, and thus ended another morning practice.

As I walked through the gate to my cottage, the sun was just peeking over the trees, painting the landscape gold with its rays. The birds were in full swing now, and the flowers that had been closed tightly in sleep as I left, were opening their faces to the new day!

Time for Coffee and 'Sunday Baroque'!!

May all sentient beings be peaceful.
May all sentient beings be happy.
May all sentient beings be safe.
May all sentient beings awaken to the light of their true nature.
May all sentient beings be free.

Flotsam & Jetsam

2007-05-10T20:53:00.000-04:00

Of late, I have sort of been feeling as though I am more or less getting blown around by the winds of fate... I can't say whether this is a good thing or a bad thing; or even whether a value judgment is even necessary... it is simply an observation.

I think it is a bit silly of me to randomly pick some period of time and decide that I feel this way during this particular timeframe when, in actuality, this is basically the way it is for all of us, all the time!

I am feeling that I am hurtling along, more or less out of control, while 'things' and 'events' just sort of take place around me... and me having only the most peripheral influence over things...

One day is blurring into the next.. and I am doing this thing in my brain where I focus on one small daily recurring event and it is like watching this one event happen over and over through a zoetrope.. where each day is one picture, and the stream of days makes them appear to be rushing by at blazing speed.... I tend to wake up at more or less the same time in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom.. I am generally muzzy, and sort of disoriented from sleepiness, and, in many cases, from having woken directly out of a dream, the shreds of which are still wisping around in my brain... well, it sometimes seems to me that the focus of my life narrows to this one event... getting up to pee... to the extent that my life becomes this recurring 'getting up to pee' activity, punctuated by tiny bits of 'other stuff'.

Of course.. in my waking life, this point of view vanishes and appears silly... but in the middle of the night, it seems to me that my life is just flashing by.. and that if I were to glance in the mirror, that I would actually be able to watch myself aging, and wasting away... as years fly by like clouds in a storm.. it saddens me in the middle of the night, when no one is available to me, and the night is deathly quiet, save for the squeak of the floor under my feet... and it occurs to me to wonder, as I am dropping back off to sleep, whether some guy, much like myself, in the year 1082CE or so, had these same, or similar, thoughts... and that guy, if he existed is now not even dust anymore... he is just gone.. just like I will be in what will seem at the time of my death to be no time at all. I know this, and I accept it... but, in the dead of night, it is sad, and gray, and drab, and depressing....

The same strange point of view is true of checking the mail, having my morning coffee, going to, and then returning from, work... and all of the other 'stations' of the day... they seem to expand, and all the other stuff seems to contract.

The result is that it seems that I spend 23 hours, 57 minutes, and 48 seconds doing not-shit BS, and 1 minute 10 seconds with my wife.. This isn't true, and I know this on an intellectual level.. but in my heart, I can feel the time shrieking past... and there isn't a damned thing that I can do about it.

I just know that I will wake up one morning and realize that I am a very old man.. with one foot in the grave, one foot on a banana peel, and everything of value in my life behind me...

But, then, I also think that this is probably true of all of us... one day this will happen.

On the surface of my brain, I attempt to siphon off every minuscule molecule of joy and appreciation from every single second of my life... and I think I am better at this than most... but, I turn around and the grass that I just mowed 'a few minutes ago' needs mowing again, the leftovers that I 'just put in the fridge' are a science project, and the furniture that I 'just dusted' has a layer of dust over it...

Summers, that used to be never-ending periods of warm, meandering days, and slow cricket and star-filled nights now blast past in a single three-month blip that doesn't allow me time to get out the suntan lotion. I consciously think, "It'll be summer in a month or so..." and the next observation is that the leaves have turned.

I don't want my life to fly by... I don't want this wonderful time with my gorgeous loving wife to spin out of my grasp... I don't want to watch myself wizen and shrivel and fade... but, I suppose I don't really have much of a choice in the matter.

I will resolve in my mind to slow down, to take time to enjoy things as they happen, and the next thing I know, I will be getting up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, and it will feel as though I had just done this very same thing not two seconds ago...

We have to work, and we have to do all of those things that we have to do to keep the household running and everything in working order... and then, when we have the time to spend, we are so tired that we can barely keep our eyes open...

Every time one of us talks with a friend or family member, it is only to find out that someone else has died, has been diagnosed with cancer or some other hideous malady, or to be shocked to hear that the infant that we had just been informed was recently born is now graduating college.

When all that time flies by, I wonder where it goes?? I distinctly remember being six years old, and that couldn't have been more than a year or two ago... and a few minutes after that I was enlisting in the military, and then a second or two later, I was back home and 29 years old, and when I do the math, I am surprised and dismayed to learn that that was eighteen years ago!

My wife and I will celebrate our fifth wedding anniversary this coming September, and I honestly don't know where the time has gone...

So many things are happening, and so much of it has the potential to affect and to change everything in my life around.... and there isn't anything that I can do other than to simply accept it as it transpires. So this is what I do; I accept life as it presents itself to me. Often, I manage to find stillness at the center of things, and once I achieve this, I can generally maintain that stillness for some time.. until it slips away, and I am back in the maelstrom.

On top of all of it, I have a new boss that looks sort of like Danny Aiello, but with the most atrocious toupé that I have ever seen in my life. One day, a good while ago, he was getting up in the middle of the night to pee, and he was, perhaps, 47 years old or so... and now he is a fat old man, with a hideous rug on his head, in a more or less crappy dead-end job. I strongly doubt that he planned it out that way... but, nevertheless, that's how it turned out.

Even today; I got home from work, my wife walked in the door a few minutes after I did, and we had the whole night to look forward to together. We had a bite to eat, we sat down and wrote a letter to a friend of ours, and now it is almost 10PM and will soon be time for bed....

Is there a speed control on this thing??

I think that in the morning, rather than rolling over and burying my face in the pillow after that first brief encounter with consciousness and a new day, I will instead get up, and see what the morning has to offer...

Let's Hear it for Marcheline!!

2007-05-08T22:37:00.000-04:00

Some of you may remember posts back in February or so that Marcheline had taken a civil service test for a fairly fantastic job... well folks the results are in!!

(crumple, crumple... rip, tear, rip...) "AND.. the award for highest score in the civil service test resulting in the attainment of the FIRST PLACE ON THE ENTIRE LIST!! (This is a HUGE list!!) goes to;.. .. (Dramatic pause...)-

Good job, Girl! I'm proud of you!!

Pop over to Marcheline's 'Mental Meatloaf' and give her a high five for a job well done!!

Wow!!

... and Don't Operate any Heavy Machinery..

2007-04-30T14:07:00.000-04:00

Today is one of those strange days where it is my intention to get some things done, but the world keeps preventing me from doing so in various ways...

Perhaps I should get the message and just take it easy for today...

It seems as though the powers that be do not want me to interact with others, handle money, drive, operate or be near sources of heat and/or fire, be responsible for the care of others, utilize sharp implements, be near sources of electrical, combustible, steam, or any other form of energy or power, make decisions of any sort... or operate heavy machinery.

I think it may be okay to sit on a bench, providing there are no large bodies of water nearby.. or perhaps to stare at a blank wall and drool..

... its just one of those days.

But, the sun is shining, it is warm, the daffodils, tulips, squill, and pansies are blooming... and I have the day off.

So, I suppose I should get busy being not so busy... before I break something or hurt myself.

I'm certainly not going to accomplish much today, it seems...

Come to think of it, it sounds kinda nice!

"Presence"

2007-04-28T13:03:00.000-04:00

Didja ever have one of those things that suddenly pops up, and then continues to assert itself into your life everywhere you go??

A few months ago, the boss of the company I worked for for only a few months had made a comment about my 'presence' - the gist of which was that by virtue of said presence, I 'take over the office' and am, therefore... even if I simply sit in complete silence (Okay... that doesn't happen a lot.. I'll admit.. but, it does happen from time to time... shut up Marcheline!) and do my work...

Honestly, when he said this, I just sat there and stared at him, coming, as it did, as a complete surprise to me. ("... my... what?!")

Let's face it; It seems, at least on the face of things, that this would be a good thing, right?? Hey! I have a 'presence'!! I'm charismatic!! This is great!!

But... well.. it ain't coming off that way... it's more like; 'We don't like having you around... go away!'.

When I sit and think about it, I can remember instances where other incidents have occurred which were sort of weird at the time... but, not connected enough for me to draw conclusions or put things together;

Once I walked into a bank in order to get change of a $100 bill. When I approached the counter and explained what I needed, the now sheepish bank teller and the unknown male (managerial?) functionary standing behind her apologetically explained to me that the police were going to be arriving soon, that they had kicked the duress lever when they saw me entering the bank... and that I should probably think about keeping my hands visible to avoid awkward circumstances... and that, oh, yes - "We would be happy to change the bill for you, sir, ... and we are very sorry about the mixup."

Very sorry about the mixup?? What the HELL is that?? I walked in to the place.. that's it! Period! Finito!! I wasn't carrying a 'loot bag', or wearing a huge gangster overcoat... or anything... (as a matter of fact, I was in sweats!) -- and these fruit-loops kicked the duress lever!

After the fiasco of the cops screeching up with guns drawn, and the half hour of figuring out what had happened, I was allowed to go on my way... feeling like an asshole.

Another time, I was waiting behind a man who was using a drive up pay phone. I simply pulled behind him, leaving a courteous and appropriate distance between vehicles... (around 12 or 15 feet), and I shut my vehicle off, got out, and went into the Texaco mini-mart (the phone was on their property) to get a Snapple or something.. as I was walking back to my vehicle, three cop cars pulled into the lot, one of them directly in front of me, cutting me off in my tracks. It turned out that the guy at the pay phone had called the police saying that a 'dangerous man' was 'threatening' him.

When the police interviewed him, he couldn't actually articulate anything specific that I had said or done to be so threatening... (I was standing there.. incredulous.. as he flapped his arms and sputtered while trying to pull a specific instance of threatening behavior out of thin air...) eventually just shrugging and indicating me with a wave of his hand, he asked one of the cops "do you know this guy?!", to which the police officer answered, "I've seen him around the neighborhood... he's quiet and he minds his own business... why?"

The gent looked searchingly from police officer to police officer, as though they were all doddering idiots, and blind to boot... and in utter indignity, exclaimed, "Just *LOOK* at him!! He's a *VERY* dangerous man!"

Happily, the police were not swayed by this, and after explaining to him that falsely reporting an incident was a misdemeanor crime in this state, sent him on his way, and left me to my phone call.

Urk!

Now.. lately I have been hearing this whole presence thing once again... but, in some instances, it has actually been beneficial.

On the downside, one of the bartenders that I work with has a son who also works with us as a member of the waitstaff. I had noticed that he (the son) acted strangely around me at times, but had never commented on it or anything. Well, last night I was working with the father, and one of the banquet managers had come in to give us some instructions, ending with a comment directed at me, something along the lines of; "... and don't be looking at me with those scary eyes of yours, Bear!"

Scary eyes?! I hear this one alot; scary eyes, piercing eyes, creepy eyes, freaky eyes.. Look! They are just eyes... I use them to see with. I don't project death rays from them.. they're just my eyes. I was born with them... deal with it!

I looked at the other bartender, and said, "What the hell is HE on about??", whereupon the other bartender told me that his son was actually 'terrified' of me.

I was absolutely dumbfounded! I just stared at him... I swear my mouth must have been hanging open... I couldn't believe what I was hearing.... after what seemed like a week, I finally managed to summon up the wherewithal to croak out a weak.. "..why?" to him in response.

He said, "I don't know.. he's really intimidated by you. I told him that you are one of the gentlest people I have ever known, but he is still freaked out by you."

??!!

My wife suggested that I purchase some casual clothing, but added that I shouldn't get anything black, because it was too 'severe'. At the time, I just let it pass, but it ran around in my head for a few days, until I was compelled to ask her to explain what she meant by that... she cast around for a few seconds and finally, by way of explanation, said, "Well.. it's just... too much.. you scare people.. and they don't like it" - (I am paraphrasing.. but I'm close...).

I stopped by her office this past Thursday to take her to lunch. It was the first time I had been there. When I walked into the office, the only people there were her and one of her bosses, a guy named 'Mike'. Marcheline introduced us, and Mike sort of muttered a low 'hi'.. and sort of scrunched down and collapsed in on himself... very clearly uncomfortable with my presence. I was low key... pleasant... and friendly... I am a generally gregarious and humorous/playful person... and I have an extremely gentle nature... so this catches me utterly off-guard!

The next day, Mike was talking to the other owner of the business over the telephone. Apparently the other lad was heading down to Atlantic City to watch some sort of free-fighting, or wrestling, or ultimate fighting championship.. or something... and Marcheline heard Mike tell the other owner, "Marcheline's husband was in here yesterday.. he looks like a heavyweight champion... he could probably beat all of those guys!". (Just for the record, I would get my ASS KICKED!!)

So.. this blows me away... but what blows me away even further is this little gem;

I have been looking for a full-time position in order to keep income flowing into the household. I've been doing the whole bit; searching the help-wanted ads and postings, sending out resumes, and going to interviews... since I have been in this loop lately with the job search thing... it has begun to wear on me to some degree. I sort of decided that I would just start applying to things that are sort of 'out of the box' -- in other words, jobs that I don't really care one way or the other about... no stress involved; if they hire me, I'm not that thrilled - it's income and I intend to continue to look for something better... and if they don't hire me, I'm not in the least bit disappointed, because I simply don't care. Sort of a crappy way to go about it, but my interest is to simply get some cash flow right now... and worry about a lasting career when I can find something that interests me.

So.. I went to an interview at a place that is relatively close to home, sort of a smarmy, creepy place... semi crappy pay, semi decent benefits - but not too difficult work, not a bad schedule.. a 'toss-up' job. (It's a toss-up whether its a crap job or a half-way decent job...). Since there was absolutely no emotional content on my part regarding the outcome of the interview.. I more or less decided that I wasn't going to go through the whole 'sales presentation' of trying to sell myself in order to get the job. So, I went, I filled out the application, and during the interview I just sat there, calmly. I answered any of the questions I was asked in the briefest way possible, and I was polite and nice... but otherwise, I just sat there.

I was supposed to have interviewed with the office manager/administrator, but he had a family emergency and had to run out the door... so I interviewed with his boss; the general manager. Well, he started trumpeting and praising me, and saying how pleased he was with me, and how he thought I was 'exceptional' and 'stood out from the crowd'.

(... um, ... what?!!)

(I JUST - SAT THERE!)

I didn't really respond to this praise.. I just sat there... I didn't really say much of anything... and then I left.

When I got called back for the second interview, the office manager went on and on about all of the things that the general manager had had to say about me, and about how taken he was with me, how impressed he was with my 'presence', etc., etc. - and then he went on to say how impressed and happy HE (the office manager) was with me... and, they offered me the job, to boot. -- did I mention that I just sat there calmly during the interview and said maybe... oh, five words in both interviews?! (I just can't! I don't know what I can't... but I know I can't... this is very confusing... good! Because I got the job... but, still confusing... oh, man...)

I went directly from there to another interview and did the same thing... with the same result... I just sat there.. and they filled in all the blanks with their own projected impression of me... I was great, and intelligent, and completely qualified to do the job, and had a fantastic presence.. the whole bit. And all I did was to sit there and keep my mouth shut!

I'm not sure what that is... but its kind of freaky if you ask me.

I have been told, over the years, by various people, that I had initially frightened them, that I looked like I was;

angry

an asshole

dangerous

intense

insane

.. along with many other not-so-attractive adjectives. The conversation inevitably starts with a confession; "Wow.. you are so much nicer than I originally thought you were...", or, "You are very different than the way you look!", or, "I owe you an apology... I really misjudged you at first..."

All I can say is that I cannot, nor would I, change the way that I look. I honestly don't see what others are apparently seeing, whether in my own internal self-view, or from what I see in the mirror, nor yet in photos. I don't quite believe that I have a presence.. actually, the whole thing seems sort of silly; I am a somewhat plump, frumpy, non-nondescript sort of fellow. At least, it appears that way to me. Other people are seeing something else, though, and I can't help but wonder how many friendships have passed me by because somebody mistakenly thought that I wanted to beat them up or something.. I suppose I should also be thankful for the times muggers passed over me for weaker looking targets...

I suppose we all arrive at judgments based almost entirely on appearances, since, in many cases, that is all that we have to go on.

As for me, I think I will do my best to reserve those judgments until I get a chance to get to know people a little better... I am forced to question how many friendships I have lost out on as a result of my own faulty perceptions and judgments?

Hello?

2007-04-26T15:04:00.000-04:00

This voicemail message was left on my cell phone last night...

Click to Listen!

Um... Sorry, wrong number... I am wondering how long they waited before they figured it out?

Because... NObody Cares... That's Why!

2007-04-20T00:00:00.000-04:00

Marcheline and I spent the night watching a show on The Military Channel entitled "The War Tapes" - (In March 2004, just as the insurgent movement strengthened, several members of one National Guard unit arrived in Iraq, carrying digital video cameras. The War Tapes is the film that they made.)

One segment of the show was taped after the soldiers returned, and one of them, a SGT. Michael Moriarty was explaining how it was difficult to talk to the guys he worked with, and, for that matter, with just about anyone... because, as he explained, they didn't care to hear about his experiences in combat. He went on to explain how they would even sometimes initiate the conversation, asking him questions, or whether he had any pictures... and that when he would take the pictures out, they would become uncomfortable, or simply let their attention drift, and walk away from him... he was expressing his frustration and anger at this... how he sometimes felt like grabbing one of them by the throat and saying, "Listen, asshole!! YOU ASKED to see my pictures... the LEAST you can do is to LOOK at them!!!"

As I listened to him talk, it occurred to me how similar my own experiences were with this soldier's... and, I suppose, with the experiences of every soldier who has ever returned home from war going all the way back in time... it is a very difficult thing to truly come to understand... intellectually.... and an almost impossible thing to finally internalize; Nobody really wants to hear about your experiences... and nobody really wants to know what you went through.... ... they just... Don't.

In the title of this blog, I stated that 'NObody cares... that's why!' - primarily because I'm a wiseass... and, for a good length of time, I believed that this was so... (to some degree, I still *do* believe that this is so... and in many cases, it probably IS so!! Many people simply don't care.) I think that in most cases, however, people simply can't relate to the experience of a combat veteran. Many have seen the movies.. watched the news... and read the books, magazines, and articles... but, that's it. When the movie ends, or the article comes to a close, they move on to whatever comes next in their work-a-day life... and that, my friends, is just about as close as most people ever want to come to warfare. Period. And this should be perfectly understandable to anyone... soldier or not. I think it is probably the most healthy attitude that someone can have towards war... aversion, disgust, avoidance... to my mind, the concept of a 'Just War' is like the concept of 'Just Bigotry' or 'Just Torture' or 'Just Unfairness'... its Crap!! So, I cannot blame those who do not wish to partake of the experiences of soldiers who are returning home... It would be nice to hear them say something like, "Thanks for your service... its good to have you back home!" But, in most cases, that isn't going to happen... at any rate, the average normal person doesn't want any part of war, and I don't blame them for that. I don't want any part of it either.

Many folks feel some obligation to ask 'what was it like?' 'did you kill anyone?' 'when do you have to go back?' or 'weren't you scared?'... but, they aren't really asking in order to get an answer.. any more than people really want to hear how you are doing when they ask, "How're you doing?" -

You see.. Its a pro-forma question... and you are expected to answer with the pre-scripted, boilerplate reply; "Fine thanks!", or "Great! ..And you?" or something to that effect.

If you have ever asked someone how they were doing, and they began to tell you... you know how in certain circumstances, this can be socially very awkward... in others, appropriate... the trick is in learning to identify which situation requires which response... so that you can reply appropriately.

So... in just about 99.9% of the cases where somebody asks me, "What was it like?" or, "did you ever have to kill anybody?" or any of those sorts of questions that polite civilians who wish to seem moderately interested in the plight of a soldier ofttimes ask, they really only want to hear, "Ah... I just mopped floors and answered phones...", or "It was like a big long camping trip... and the food was terrible.." or something like that... if that... and that is all.

It isn't that they don't care... any more than you don't care about how someone is actually doing when you ask "How're you doing?" and the circumstances don't warrant a detailed response; it isn't a reflection on that person's care or compassion, but more or less regarding social niceties. If they had wanted to go to war, they would have enlisted, or gotten a commission... and gone. If they were found to be unsuitable for service for whatever reason, it isn't nice to draw attention to that... if they chose not to go to war, then one of two circumstances will exist. Either, A. They stand by that decision to this day... in which case, they don't want to hear about warfare, and it would be rude to force it on them. Or, B. They regret not having gone, in which case, it wouldn't be nice to embarrass them by regaling them with stories that would only serve to point out the fact to them that they did not serve. Worse yet, with stories that may press someone who is otherwise eminently unsuited for military service to enlist simply to prove something to themselves or others... and in so doing, possibly get themselves, or perhaps others, hurt or killed...

As a soldier returning home filled to the gills with all of these sights, sounds, experiences, and stories, we naturally want to share them, and to help others to understand some part of what we have accomplished, what we have taken part in... and what we have experienced.

The rub, however, is that no matter how great of a story teller we may be, and no matter how detailed the narrative... *nobody who has not been there will EVER understand*... period. And those who have had such experiences don't need to be told, and most likely don't want to talk about it in any case... many folks have crapped their pants, vomited on themselves, taken a bad fall from a bicycle, stepped in dog shit, lost a loved one or a pet...or what have you. This is part of being human; we have miserable, painful, or unpleasant experiences.. we have all experienced these unpleasant circumstances..or similar ones.. but that doesn't mean that we want to discuss them, or dredge them up... they sucked enough when they happened.. why keep bringing them up? (I am not trying to draw a parallel between these experiences and the experiences of a combat soldier... I am simply saying that *everyone* shares certain types of unpleasant experiences... but this doesn't mean that we like to talk about them...)

This penchant that folks have for not wanting to hear about my experiences as a soldier, the things I saw, felt, thought, experienced, and learned, used to bother me to no end... it drove me crazy!.. I simply couldn't understand how people could react they way that they did!.. didn't they know that we (military types) were keeping them and their families safe??!! What the *hell* is wrong with them??!! *How* could they not be interested?? Didn't they care about us at all?? We sacrificed so much for our nation... some gave absolutely *EVERYTHING*!!

But, over time... though observation and contemplation... and, in good part, through discussing these feelings with my wife, who is my savior in so many ways.. I came to realize that my thoughts were illusory and mistaken at best... and delusional at worst... I was only seeing things through the lens of a soldier.. and this simply does not focus on the entire picture... I may *want* and *hope* that others value my service a great deal... but this doesn't obligate them to do so... I wasn't drafted, I volunteered.. this was my choice to enter the military. Nowadays, I think some soldiers, sailors, airmen and marines are compelled to serve.. however, this is all part and parcel with our responsibility as citizens of this country. Our experiences after being active duty servicemen and women are just as much a part of being a soldier as our experiences during active service... and, like so many of the unpleasant and difficult things that we go through as soldiers... this is just something that has to be gotten around, or gotten through... and that's that. Just do it. Drive on!

So.. like SGT Moriarty, I struggled with these thoughts for quite some time. Eventually, however, it finally occurred to me that we served so that other Americans wouldn't be forced to experience the horrors of war. If we wanted that to happen, we could simply wait until we were attacked, on our own territory.... but, that isn't what we wanted... and it isn't what we want now. Mind you, I am in no way comparing my experiences with those of SGT Moriarty. I have not walked in his shoes, and I do not know the half of what he has gone through... what I *do* know, however, is that I am grateful to him for his valiant service, and I am proud to have him as a brother in arms. (If you should ever happen to read this, bro... Thank You. From my heart... there are damned few like you. Hooah!)

So... what have I come to understand??

Well... Those of us who served in the military... whatever the branch of service, and in whatever capacity.... did what we set out to do... we did our job.. and we came home.

Many of our brothers and sisters are not so fortunate to come home.

We know what we did. And now we are home and we have done our part. Whether anyone else recognizes that fact or wants to hear about it changes nothing. We did our part.

I did my part... however small and insignificant it may be.

That's good enough for me.

Now, each day, I have to find ways to put those experiences to good use by making choices that enrich and enhance my life, and the lives of those around me. Warfare seldom settles or changes anything... not really... but, there are certain intangible traits that soldiers are inculcated with through their experiences that can make a difference... they are small, and mostly go unnoticed, but they make a difference just the same.

Some but not all of the lessons learned as a soldier, are;

We are all brothers... and we help one another; we are only as strong as our weakest link.

It doesn't matter what we look like, what color we are, or what accent we speak with.. we are all one family.

What hurts one of us, hurts all of us.

Most likely, none of us will get out this alive... so we have to make the best out of the time that we have.

Nobody ever said that it would be easy.

... just one more step. You can ALWAYS take just one more step...

So... people may not want to hear the stories... but they can still benefit from them... even if they never actually listen....

Marcheline Plays 'Marlin Perkins'

2007-04-12T23:48:00.000-04:00

The camera pans across the landscape... Wyoming? Montana? Patchogue, perhaps?? A large grizzly lumbers along the stream bank, slapping salmon around like handballs... an idiot wearing a multi-pocketed vest circles around a rock as he sneaks up on the bear (... jackass). The voiceover goes like this; "I will hide ~~back here in relative safety~~ downstream while ~~Stupid~~ Stan moves in a little closer in order to get a good shot at the bear with the tranquilizer dart gun. He will only get one clean shot at the bear before it will be able to reach him, so he has to make sure it's a good shot! These brutes can weigh up to 2,000 pounds of bone, gristle, and muscle... with their huge fangs, powerful jaw muscles and dagger sharp claws, they can easily eviscerate a grown man.... Animals in the wild have their own protection... Do YOU have protection?? Mutual of Omaha provides quality term life insurance.... etc., etc.

Well... actually, Bear was choking and coughing, and hacking, and spluttering... and basically creating a huge ruckus until around 3:00AM, when Marcheline, apparently at wit's end, got up out of bed and convinced me to try some of the prescription cough medicine that she had left over from her bout with the 'Creeping-Crud'.

I was more or less willing to try just about anything at that point.. including Drano... so with a glance at the label "Hydrocodone - Warning: May cause drowsiness.." (... Hmmm, Hydra-what?!).. I took a swig.. and trundled off to bed..

I continued to cough, for about 15 minutes... thinking.."This shit ain't gonna do squat... but at least she will know I'm willing to try..."

The next thing I knew, it was noon!!

I had conked out like I'd been poleaxed and didn't move a muscle the entire night... so, consequently, I am feeling somewhat more human today, having gotten the first decent night's sleep in about five days....

Thanx, girl!!

Thwack! Whiz!

2007-04-11T11:51:00.000-04:00

UNCLASSIFIED
Precedence: ROUTINE
DTG: XX JULY 1979 XX 0300 HOURS (LOCAL)
LOCATION: IRAKLION AS, CRETE, GREECE USAF
==================================

I was sleeping soundly in my barracks room... it was summertime, and hot as hell! It had taken me a long while to finally get to sleep... tossing and turning, my skin sticking to the damp sweaty sheets... until, finally, I had managed to drift off to a fitful semblance of sleep... and then;

THWACK!! W-W-Whizzzzzz..... CRACK-CRACK-CRACK!!!

"Wh-what the f---?!"

I rolled over, and tried to find the dream I had been having... something about a cool jungle pool, and a waterfall.. surrounded by lush vegetation... bird calls.... tropical flowers....

"FRm-Whzr-schlaazp...frr...!!!" THWACK!! Whiiiiiizzzzzzzzzzz!! WHACK! CRACK!! POP POP POP!!!

I sat straight up in bed... question marks hovering over my head.... what on earth was that??

I could hear insects chirping away... somewhere in the distance, the Aegean sea was pounding away on the shore.... I listened intently.... I could hear the sound of tires on the road... probably a Security Policeman patrolling the base....

"FRIZ.. MUM... rahrzbhlizh!!" THWACK!! ZZZZZZZZZZhooosh!!! WHACK!! CRACK!!

????? !!!!!

I got up, and quickly walked to the door of my room... pressing my ear against the door...

THWACK!!! ZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzz WHACK!!

Something had just hit the metal door-frame; scant inches from my ear.... with a fairly decent amount of force.. startling the shit out of me!! Pissed off now, I wrenched the door open, and stepped out into the hallway, determined to find out just what the *FUCK* was going on at THREE O'CLOCK IN THE FRIGGIN' MORNING!!!

As I took that first step, I heard a loud "THWACK!" emanate from some distance to my right, instantly followed by a whooshing, whirring sound... getting rapidly closer... and, wisely, I snapped my head back, just in time, apparently... as I felt a breeze on my right cheek and just caught a glimpse of something colored neon green shooting by from left to right less than a half inch in front of my nose... I glanced to the right to track the object... whatever it was... but it was moving WAY too fast to see clearly.... whatever it was ricocheted off of the cinder-block wall, gouging out a chunk of concrete and paint... chips splattered across the hall with a sandy clatter.. and something punched a hole in the drop-ceiling tiles and disappeared!!

I ducked low... and quickly peeked around the edge of my doorframe towards the origin of the 'Thwacking' sound I had heard a few seconds earlier... I instantly pulled my head back, not wanting to chance losing an eye... or worse!!

"MWRMM-Blz-phrizzt!! HAH!!" -- THWACK!! Whizzzzzzzz--zzz--zzz-zz-z-zzzzzzz..... CRACK!! POP-POP-POP... Clatter!!

What I had just seen in the half second that I had stuck my head out from behind cover began to gel in my mind..... What? The? Fuck? !!

At the opposite end of the hallway...there stood a very drunk, and very naked male... with a golf club in his hand!!! At his feet was a cooler, ostensibly filled with cold beer, and a milk crate.

????

Unsteadily, he bent down, and extracted... by the hair... one of perhaps a hundred Russ Trolls (you know; the happy friendly little naked blokes with the big googley eyes and the sticky-up multi-colored hair!) that were stacked in the milk crate. He set it down on the floor in front of him, and yelling out something unintelligible that sounded like "Mrrph...Gwamzzzts!!" He wound up and hit the troll (this one had purple hair) with a resounding THWACK!! It whizzed down the hallway at approximately 300 mph, until it hit a doorframe, bounced back and forth off of the opposite walls... and came to rest.. spinning slowly... in the far opposite corner of the hall... just by the exit door that led out to the exterior stairwell.... on the hinge side of the door.

"Dude!? What're you DOING??!!"

THWACK!!! ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzz!!! Whack!!

"Hey!! Would you watch that!?!?"

THWACK!!! WHIZZZZZZZZ.... CRACK!!!

"HEY ASSHOLE!! KNOCK IT OFF!!"

THWACK!!!! WHIZZZZZZZZZZZZZ... BOP-BOP-WHACK!!

"Do you even LIVE HERE???"

THWACK!!! ZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzz WHAP!!

.....

.....

THWACK!!! FWA-FWA-FWA-FWA-FWA.... CRACK!!

"Hey! I wonder if you can reach the OCEAN from here with those things??"

He... whoever the hell he was.... turned and stared down the hall at me with bleary, drunken, bloodshot eyes for a few seconds.... slowly, he turned his head to gaze out through the window that was set into the door.... then.. without another word, he tucked his golf club under his arm, and, picking up his milk crate full o' trolls and his cooler, banged the door open with a bare foot, and walked - bare-assed - out onto the landing of the third floor stairwell... (there was one at each end of the building...)

I stood there, watching him hammering away at the trolls for a few seconds...attempting to reach the ocean (that was just over a quarter mile away...) and then, distractedly wondering what on earth the trolls might've done to piss him off... trundled off back to bed....

I'll tell ya! Defending the world from Communism can be a dangerous business sometimes!!....

Locked Out!

2007-04-11T10:30:00.000-04:00

For some inexplicable reason, I have been locked out of my Blogger account for over a week! I kept getting a 'Username/Password combination does not match' message.. I tried recovering my password, and sure enough, the 'Check your email.. a message has been sent to your email account' screen dutifully informed me that my password or instructions regarding how I might go about recovering my password had been sent to my secondary email address.... so I checked... But, alas; no email...

"Hmmmm....."

I went back to Blogger, which helpfully suggested that if the email hadn't arrived within 15 minutes, that I should check my 'Spam' folder... great!! I DON'T HAVE A FRIGGIN' SPAM FOLDER!!

Back to Blogger.... 'If the email hasn't arrived within 15 minutes, check your Spam folder, or OR 'Contact Blogger Support'.

Blogger Support! Fantastic!! This is *JUST* what I need!!

- CLICK -

tic-tock tic-tock

"Ah... here it comes!"

The page loads... AND??

"Please enter your username/password and sign in".

...

... ...

"YOU HAVE *GOT* TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!!"

I wasted plenty of time checking and rechecking my email... to no avail...

So. What, precisely DOES one do when one is unceremoniously locked out of one's account, and there is no recourse for contacting a BLOODY HUMAN BEING to help you out of a jam??

Well.... in absence of any new data, you take a lesson from the cats... and simply keep trying the same thing... over... and over... and over.... until something different happens!!

This is patently insane... I know...

HOWEVER!!

HERE. I. AM!!

I'm back!

.... and I **STILL** have no fucking idea why I couldn't log in!

The best part is; Now that I am finally able to get back into my blogger account... I can't remember the fascinating subject that I wanted to blog about to begin with.... plap!!

I am home sick... its been about four or five days of gunk in my head... sludge in my lungs... coughing and choking and hacking out chunks of my liver... my head is spinning... and I feel like shit.

Last night my poor wife had to go sleep on the couch... the same couch that the springs have dropped out of so that sleeping on it is like sleeping on a wooden pallet....

I coughed, and choked, and snorted, and gurgled all night long... flopping around from one side to the other, to my stomach and then on to my back... over and over... trying to find a position in which I could breathe.... but no dice...

When I finally *did* fall asleep, I scared the shit out of myself and woke myself up; This is weird...

I was sleeping, miraculously... and suddenly, very, very close.. I heard a baleful, malevolent low growl... as though a large vicious animal was ready to maim and kill me...

Well... I came out of my tree!! I literally (Literally!) came off of the mattress... trying to go in eight directions at once... legs kicking... arms flailing... eyes the size of dinner plates... I almost peed myself...

until

I realized that the sound came from me... (sheepish blush)

Since my lungs are filled with all sorts of disgusting crap.. air bubbles around in there (this is great, isn't it?? Wanna go get a snack??) and makes really weird, creepy noises... the best part being that I have no conscious control of it.. it's like when your stomach gurgles and grumbles... but in your lungs instead.

So... I got no sleep.. my head hurts from coughing.. I packed my poor wife off to the couch to get no sleep so she can go to work miserably tired... and I gave myself a bloody heart attack. Nice.

Quite possibly, the only thing freakier than not being able to access your Blogger account when you know *damned well* that you are using the correct username/password is suddenly being able to access your Blogger account using *EXACTLY* the same username/password.

How do you fix that?? (!!)

... so.. what?? Can I look forward to being periodically left out in the cold while my blogger account goes off on a jaunt somewhere?? It's like trying to get into your own house, with the same key that you use every single flippin' day... and the key won't work!! But then it does!

Huh?

I just read over my blog, and realized after reading the last few posts that I am repeating myself... Oh god! I am my own grandfather.... ack!

I wonder if you can OD on Halls Mentholyptus Honey-Lemon cough drops?? I think I might have tipped the balance of my blood chemistry or something... If I eat any more of these things, I will be able to hire myself out as a vaporizer...

Is it only me... or does everybody think really weird shit when they're sick??

Breathe In.... Breathe Out....

2007-04-01T10:26:00.000-04:00

Today is April 1st... Spring is well under way here in Long Island.. and in our garden we have crocuses and daffodils blooming, tulips are poking their leaves up from the soil, the snowdrops are about at the end of their reign, and everywhere one looks there are signs of life!

In the evenings, I hear the spring peepers raising their voices to add to the chorus..

As I reflect on these visible signs of constant change in my garden, it brings the larger context of change into sharper focus in my mind.

So many changes have occurred that touch my life and the lives of those who I know that I can't even begin to list them here... but the way that change affects us; both good and bad, and the ways that we, as people, find to either accommodate them or simply endure them are as numerous and differing as the changes themselves...

As I write this, the head priest/abbot of our small monastic community is in Los Angeles to celebrate the 100th birthday of his teacher and the head of our order/lineage in the United States. The night before he left to go there, he discussed the issue of my ordination within this order (I was ordained in a different order, and have been 'carried' in this order in a sort of 'in-between' status... I have been trained, and the training is very similar, and in some cases identical... but there are some significant differences... so, he is not quite sure whether they should simply ordain me, whether they should 'start from scratch' or whether it should be somewhere in between... although the two orders share the same lineage {these sorts of things are kept track of and meticulously recorded} they happen to be headquartered in different, but neighboring countries... and there is a history there.... so..... it is somewhat awkward...) In any case, in our discussion, he mentioned that his second stated reason for this trip is to work out the knots and wrinkles and to return with a definitive answer. My thought is that it will be of the 'Start from Scratch!' variety... which is fine by me... but, we will have to wait and see...

If I have any will in this, it is that he is not getting younger by the day... and I would dearly like to be one of 'his' monks.. meaning that he would be the one who ordains me, rather than some other monk/priest who I do not personally know... and while this really has no bearing, on a personal level, if one were to enquire as to my preferences; well - this would be my preference! Also, there is a sort of a time issue involved, even though it doesn't directly concern me in any but the most ancillary fashion; Our head priest was ordained as a priest in December. Just prior to that, he and his wife of 54 years, who was one of our nuns, had traveled out to California for a month long meditation retreat, which is grueling. She was ill towards the end of the retreat, with an apparent cold or flu. He returned a few days or a week later for his ordination, and she elected to remain here, since she was too ill to travel. When he returned, her condition had worsened.

To make a long story short, her immune system had been compromised due to an abnormal growth of the thymus gland, called a thymoma, which is usually vestigial in adults, and it was decided that his had to be surgically removed. The surgery went off without a hitch, and she was recovering nicely. She was eating, talking, walking... all of her 'numbers' were looking good, and everyone was looking forward to her immanent return home. On Sunday, February 11th, after a visit by her family, she suddenly and unexpectedly passed away... to the shock and dismay of all of us.

They had been married for so long... and were so in love and so connected that this was, as one can imagine, a severe blow to her husband...

Monks and nuns traveled from all over the world to attend the memorial service that we held for her, family and friends flew in from all over as well... and then everybody went home and back to their lives leaving an old man with a terrible sadness to bear in a big empty house... all alone.

He isn't 'just an old man' however... he has been a monk for over thirty years, I am guessing... and he found a handhold in his vocation upon which to take a new lease on life; When one is ordained as a priest in our order, he or she is expected to acquire a property which is owned by the order and to found a temple in the area in which they live. This has become his focus. He has decided to spend this year traveling and studying with his teacher, who has just turned 100 years old! I imagine that this year of traveling will also serve to allow him time to come to terms with his grief, and to learn what it is to be a priest, and to deepen his knowledge and understanding in general.

He gathered his monks... and there are only a small number of us... one night, and announced his purpose to purchase and found a temple upon his return, and told us in no uncertain terms that we would be expected to do the lion's share of the work, and to shoulder the responsibilities for the smooth operation of the temple and all of the mundane details that such an enterprise requires.

This, then, is where the time issue comes in from my standpoint. It is my desire to be fully ordained, in thisorder, in time enough to be able to contribute as a fully qualified member of our new temple from the day of its inception. This may or may not come to pass... but, this is what I am hoping for. It is not the nature of these things to be rushed or hurried along... particularly not for such purposes as this... and, naturally, this is not the main reason for my desire to be ordained by him... simply the impetus for my desire to have it take place in a timely fashion...

Whatever happens will happen in its own time and for the right and proper reasons, and I will accept whatever decision they make... I just wanted to voice my hopes.. and what better venue than here??

Well... monk or no monk... I have to work in order to eat... so, off I go.....

Some Days...

2007-03-20T04:58:00.001-04:00

Some days just simply blow chunks... and for me, at least... today was one of those days. As it seems to happen with days that particularly suck, there were a few high points, but, in retrospect, those high points only seemed to remind me just how crappy the day was going.

It was just one of those days when it seemed that *everyone* was on me about something... and most of them were right... there are times when people get on your case, and they are being unfair, or they don't know what they are talking about, or they are just plain assholes... and, in those cases, I basically just blow them off... there are other times, however, when they are right.. and today, as the hours wore on, I got a bigger and clearer picture of just how much I truly suck.

... So what do you do with that? Basically, my soul feels like sludge... on top of everything, I had one vicious bastard of a headache all day that three Tylenol wouldn't make a dent in, and the computers at work are totally fucked after the installation of a new server-based network in the office - so now nobody can do their job until we get all of the kinks worked out, but we are more or less getting crapped on about it even though it isn't any body's fault..

My boss spent an hour pressuring the shit out of me over something that I have essentially no control over.. then he sent me on an errand to do something, and, even though everything regarding the issue was screwed up on his end, I am the one who gets puked on when it doesn't work out...

My co-worker, who is in the same situation as I am regarding pay came to work almost in tears; she figured out her taxes over the weekend, and owes thousands of dollars that she can't pay... so, since I am in a very similar category, I am shitting pickles over that...

I found a photo online of a relative who has been lost to me for some years now... but, due to circumstances beyond my control, I will most likely never see her again... and that makes me very sad.

I basically just want to crawl into a hole and pull it in after me... but, that solves nothing...

There are things that I can do... but, at a basic level, nothing really changes... it is what it is, and when it sucks I simply have to deal with it... I have no choice, I guess...

.. so that's today.

yay

Now What?

2007-02-18T11:57:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I attended a funeral service for one of the monks (a nun, actually, though we only have one word for a monastic which, in English, translates to either monk or nun.. in my order, we tend to use the term 'monk' regardless of the gender) of my order who passed away suddenly and unexpectedly last Sunday. Although we knew that she was ill, it came as a shock because she had had a surgery that had gone unexpectedly and quite happily, very, very well. Her physical parameters had been steadily improving, the doctors were pleased with the speed of her recovery, and to all intents and purposes, it appeared to all of us that she would make a full recovery. Her family had visited her in the morning, and she was lucid and seemingly doing very well. She was eating, she was cheerful, and there was no reason to expect anything other than for her to continue on her road to recovery. By the time her husband returned home, however, (as he pulled into the driveway, the phone rang..) he received a call that she was in critical condition, and that he was requested to return immediately to the hospital. Before he was able to get there, though... she had died. And just like that, in the space of a heartbeat, everything had changed for him.

I am disappointed because I had to leave partway through the service. This wasn't a willing choice on my part, it was because I was committed to work, and was unable to make any sort of arrangements that would enable me to stay throughout the service... I'm not sure whether this is, all in all, a benefit or a detriment; from one point of view, it sort of sucked because I had to leave partway through a service that I very much wanted to remain and take part in.... from the other point of view it is good because I was necessarily forced to recalibrate my mindset into a work routine that did not leave much room for dwelling upon the inherent sadness that is part and parcel with such a day...

This is, I think, a comment on life where the very good, the partly good, the not so good, and the very bad always stand either hand in hand, or at least within arm's distance of one another... there is, it would seem, very little white and black in life... and instead, so very many shades of gray. This makes things complex, but also simple I think...

It is in the attempt to 'pigeonhole' each situation and experience into the requisite 'good' or 'bad' categories that we often find ourselves being tied into knots of confusion, frustration, anger, sadness, and other types of suffering...

Perhaps it would make more sense to simply accept that things in life unfold just as they are, and leave it at that... without trying to impose our human limitations and judgments onto inherently unclassifiable circumstances... it never fully works, and it only gives us all headaches anyway...

As we were driving to the place where the service was to be held, it seemed to me to be either a very suitable or very unsuitable day for a funeral.. depending upon how you choose to look at it...

The sky was high and blue with a bright sun and a few scattered fluffy clouds scudding around... the branches of the trees and the blades of tall grass were encased in glittering sheaths of ice... it looked like the world was encrusted with diamonds...

We missed the turnoff for the place, at first... and ended up driving around for awhile until we saw a woman walking her dog, and stopped to ask for directions... she stared at me, in my vestments, for a brief moment, before telling us where we could find the place... I wondered if she had any 'there goes the neighborhood!' thoughts as she went on her way...

As we drove along, I saw a starling sitting in the road, obviously hurt or stunned. I pulled over and got out of the vehicle, walking back to where it sat, and gently picked it up. It didn't struggle, and it didn't seem to be especially afraid of being picked up and held by a huge, strange creature... it just sat there, placidly, and gave me the gift of its trust while it serenely stared at me with its glittering black eyes, waiting to see what I would do next, it seemed. I walked a way off the road, carefully negotiating the slippery ice (it would be awkward to fall on my ass while carrying an injured bird!) and set the little fella down next to a tree in a soft bed of ground ivy. Immediately, it spread its wings and flew off, apparently as healthy as could be... so that was a little strange. I apparently walked up to a healthy bird, fully capable of flying off, and simply picked it up. When I got back into the vehicle, my wife reminded me to wash my hands as soon as we got where we were going, apparently in an effort to save all of us from contracting avian bird virus. She is always very thoughtful when it comes to things like avian bird virus.

People had come in from all over the world for this service. The decedent was very well loved by everyone who knew her. She was an extremely unassuming, kind, quiet spirit.... she had absolutely no ego. And her understated directness captured the heart. This tiny little monk, who always somehow remained in the background, seeing that all of the essential details were being taken care of, without any fuss or bother... never asking for recognition or thanks, had, nonetheless, managed to earn the love and respect of everyone whose life she touched. She was a force of nature. I don't think that anyone who ever met her would argue the accuracy of that statement.

Her husband of 54 years is our priest and teacher. Understandably, his life is irrevocably altered by the loss of his wife, and the love of his life. They were so very much in love, and so very connected, that my heart aches for him. He isn't alone, but he is cast adrift just now... and there isn't very much that any one of us who so love him can do to fix the situation. All we can do is simply be there, and to try to help him to stand up in it. They say that time heals all wounds... but, I think that isn't exactly true. I think it is more accurate to say that time helps us to withstand the wounds that will never heal. He is very sad. I am very sad. She has left a huge empty space in all of our hearts.

I think it is fortunate that he was recently ordained as a priest (they had gone together to the main temple of our order in this country for a month long retreat. When they returned from this, she was showing the first symptoms of her sickness. He went back to the main temple to be ordained as a priest a week later, and upon his return the full extent of her illness had become apparent, and she was hospitalized at that time) when he was, because, as a priest, he is expected to start his own temple. This gives much needed purpose to his life, and, I believe, may very well be the mechanism that enables him to heal. For the time being, we are very much in a state of mental and emotional disruption. The regular monastic schedule that we follow as a community (albeit a very small ((and now, sadly, smaller by one...)) community) is suspended until further notice... naturally, we will each follow our individual schedule of daily spiritual practice, but for now the community is somewhat in need of healing...

Naturally, a good part of the distress that I am feeling is the result of my projecting his unfortunate circumstance onto my own life.

I think that this is one thing that anybody who has ever felt an uncommon love for another human being shares; the underlying fear that one day this will all necessarily have to end, and that there isn't a thing that we can do about it. It is going to happen, and one of us is going to be broken by it.

This is what it is to be human, I guess... and there is no getting around it.

Earlier, I stated that the good and the bad often (or always) stand hand in hand... this is true in this case as well, I think. When death strikes close to home, it affects each of us. If it is to serve any good purpose, I think it is to remind us that time is fleeting, and that life is impermanent, and that our own death is approaching... moment by moment, and that perhaps we should take a good, honest look at our priorities!

We won't be here forever, and neither will our loved ones be here forever. We don't know when any one of us will be the next to go... we only know that it will happen.

What we do know, is that we are here... now... and that those loved ones who are alive are also here with us. Perhaps for years.... perhaps for seconds.

Our lives are flying past us, and we can't do a thing to slow the passage of time. Each day of life brings us one day closer to death. It is one day less that we will have to spend with those that we love.

So, I think the message is that we cannot afford to waste even a second. Since we are born into this life, only to be taken out of it again some time later... it would seem to me that while we are here, the most important thing that we can do is to love one another, as fully and as completely as possible.

Rather than focusing on what we can get, and keep, and take, perhaps, in light of the fact that everything that we collect throughout our lives becomes as nothing at the moment that we die... we should focus our efforts instead on learning how to give of ourselves. Completely, and without reservation or condition.

This is what it is to love.

Giving of our understanding and tolerance helps us to see the beauty and the perfection in others, rather than the faults (of which each and every one of us has many!). Giving of our love and kindness helps us to realize the value of compassion.

When it all comes down to it, I think the reason for our existence, if such a thing as a reason actually exists at all, is for us to learn to transform our spirits, to love all living beings, to learn how not to be afraid to give completely of ourselves, without reservation... and to do what we can to make the lives of those around us a little better, and, perhaps, to ease the burdens of those around us in some small way.

When somebody dies, those who know them and love them don't remember what they had, they remember who they were, and this is what they miss.

As I write this, my wife is at her computer typing away at something... I know that one day, we will be forced apart by death... and it scares me to the point of paralysis to actually consider that this is true and that it will take place.... but, I know that it is a fact of life. What I also know is that until that time comes, I will love her with all my heart with every breath and with every beat of my heart.

One day we will be gone... but at least for now, we are here... and the wind is blowing through the branches of the trees outside, the sun is shining, and my wife is beautiful, and soft, and warm, and alive... and I am more thankful than I can say.

Not so far from where I am, sits an old man, in a house that at least for now is filled with relatives who came to say good by to one who has passed on. In the next few days, they will slowly leave and return to their own lives, leaving that old man alone in an empty house. No matter what he offers, and no matter how much he may wish it, he cannot get his wife back.

The line between life and death is very, very thin... and none of us knows where it lies.... and in the space of less than a second, any one of us could find ourselves sitting in that empty house asking ourselves, "Now what?".

Maybe it would be wiser to ask that question right now.... and to learn, very quickly, how to give of ourselves.... totally.

By doing this, by living in the present moment, completely, by loving, and giving, and smiling beautifully, we learn how to savor each and every moment that we do have together...

That can't be so bad, can it??

So... as I sit here, I ask myself; "Now what?"

The only answer that makes sense to me is to give of myself as completely, and as totally, as I am capable of doing.

For me, at least... this is what it is to live honestly, with honor, and with dignity.

Perhaps by giving, I can make life better for one woman that I love with all my heart, and, hopefully, for one old man who is sitting alone in an empty house.

Perhaps...

Please Volunteer!

2007-02-11T11:22:00.000-05:00

When I first walked into the room where we normally host the cocktail hour, I immediately suspected that I was in the wrong place. There were no chafing dishes, no salad bar, no serving tables at all! Not only that, but there was no DJ equipment, and no sign or evidence whatsoever that a wedding reception cocktail hour was planned to take place there, whatsoever!

I turned around and went back to the office to ask one of the Banquet Managers whether there was to be a cocktail hour for this party...

He answered to the affirmative in his deep resonant voice in its thick Hungarian accent;

"Of course! Cocktail hour in here, dinner in there!"

I stood there, gaping... (very suave)

His eyes narrowed, ever so slightly, and then, apparently to assist me since I was so obviously addled, he went on with more instructions regarding the party at hand. "This is non-alcohol bar."

And then, just in the event that my language comprehension skills had entirely failed me for some reason, he decided to helpfully explain what this meant;

"This bar... NO ALCOHOL AT ALL - just soda, juices, water, and many frozen drinks. Perhaps you will prepare ice-ed tea... and, if you wish, non-alcoholic beer."

"Great.. got it. Thanks." Was my reply... I tried to keep the disappointment/annoyance from showing on my face.... I have worked these types of parties in the past, and as a general rule (read: in every single case thus far!) they suck balls.

So. This is a wedding. No food. No music. No drink. No nothing... the guests will be bored and annoyed.. at least enough of them to make life.. ah.. interesting for the staff...

Oh well... you gotta work with the hand that you are dealt, right?

When the other bartender showed up, it was someone I had never worked with, and whom I had only seen tend bar once or twice... he's a nice enough guy, a little inexperienced, but, every single one of has been there.... it would be alright......

"Hey, how's it going?" I called out in greeting as he approached the bar where I was setting up.

"Not so good, not so good.." he replied.

(Uh-oh... what is that all about?)

"Why? Did something happen?" I asked.

"My brother is gone." He said.

"... ... ... ... (???!) ... ... ........... uh.. gone?"

"He passed away... he was killed... he died... in a car crash... back home in the Dominican Republic... hedrovehiscaroffacliffinthemiddleofthenightandwedon'tknowifhewasdrinkingorwhat.... he was 27 years old... I have to leave to go there tomorrow morning and my passport expires today! I'm just going to try to get there... I'll worry about getting back once I'm there..."

"... (holy shit)... um... wow... I'm really sorry, man... I... I... don't know what to say.... ... sorry."

"What can you say? There are no words..... but thank you..."

He went on to say that he was only working to get enough cash so that he could pay for incidentals on his trip... some food... tips... etc. When I told him what sort of party we had...he was, um.... less than elated.

We got set up, the doors opened... and in came the guests...

"Hello! What would you like, sir?"

"Lemme get a screwdriver."

"I'm very sorry sir, today we have a non-alcoholic bar. I can offer you soda, juice, fruit punch, iced tea, water..."

"Um.... aa-ight then... lemme get a gin & tonic."

"Ah... we don't have any alcoholic beverages whatsoever at the bar today, sir.... may I offer you something else, perhaps??"

"Oh! Tha's right! No alcohawl.... I guess I'll just have a glass of wine then..."

And this is pretty much how it went all night.... and then there was the line... or lack thereof..

fifty to over one hundred people... all shouting out what they want... simultaneously.

"Yo!! Gimme two Piña Coladas!" (we prepare virgin frozen drinks for the non-alcoholic bars)
(This came from somewhere to my right, and some distance back in the crowd... along with many other shouted orders from everyone at once...)

I continued to serve the person standing at the bar directly in front of me...

"YO!! GIMME MY PIÑA COLADAS!! YOU DEAF OR SUMP'N?!?!"

"There's a line sir... I'm helping the guest at the front of the line... I will be happy to help you, just as soon as I have served the other guests who are ahead of you....."

"I just want my two Piña Coladas!"

"I understand... but there are people ahead of you.. ... I'm sorry..."

"Yo asshole... just get two glasses, and pour the fuckin' drinks into 'em for me, okay?"

I was suddenly and instantaneously stricken by 'elective deafness' and continued on with what I had been doing...

My 'friend' pushed through the crowd, and worked his way around to the side of the bar;

"Just give me my drinks. I ain't waitin'"

I shot him a glance.. and continued to work without replying....

"YOU HEAR ME?!!?"

"Yes sir.. I did. And I will be happy to give you your drinks....."

I served the next person in line.

"WHERE'S MY PIÑA COLADAS!!"

"I am going to make a fresh pitcher just for you, my friend..."

"Oh.... that's cool.... but could you hurry?"

"Absolutely!"

I served the next couple at the bar...

My 'friend' inhaled to speak to me once again.. but I cut him off;

"I will need to see some ID from you, my friend..."

"Wha-?!"

"My apologies... you look young to me... I'm on camera, you understand.... " and I indicated the surveillance camera mounted on the wall.

"Damn!" - Off he went in search of some ID. When he returned, I had his drinks ready and waiting, and off he went... happy at last. I was happy as well, since I wouldn't have to contend with an angry mob for allowing him to cut in front of them... by the time he returned with his ID, his turn in line had come up.

.... and so it went for the entire night..... after the cocktail hour, we moved into the main reception hall... where, if anything, it was worse. They had a buffet... of sorts.... chicken wings and some rice... these poor folks were broke, that much was obvious... and I'm sure that they did their very best to have the best celebration that they could afford. This much is understood, and the entire staff, to their credit, does as fine a job for the low-budget parties as they do for the extravaganzas.... but, at the same time.. it hurts us.. since we work primarily for tips, and at these parties nobody tips. They don't have it... we know that ... we all struggle, too... but it's hard to put in a grueling 8 to 12 hours and walk away with nothing.... but, its all part of the deal. Thats the industry, I guess....

I am going to request, in writing, that the venue obtain and issue to me one white armband with a prominent bright red cross affixed to it.

If I am going to be a volunteer, I should at least have the privilege of looking like one!!

Our combined take for the entire night?? (this is the amount, in tips, that we split between us...)

Zero.

Nothing.

Not a single, solitary, red cent.

On top of this, when I was leaving for the night, the owner shouted, railed, ranted, threatened, and stomped his feet over how we were going to be forced to care for the new bars that he had just ordered, how anything other then what he wanted would not be tolerated, and that strict measures would be taken, that we had better not be the one who would be made an example of, etc., etc., blah-blah-blah... (I personally make it a point to clean everything that I use, and to leave it in better condition than how I find it when I come in... but I always seem to be the recipient of these sermons.....). I just stood there, impassively gazing at him until such time as I could extricate myself with as little social awkwardness as humanly possible... and off I went into the cold night. Time to go home at last.

And that my friends, is how my day went yesterday....

All of it...

2007-02-03T11:29:00.000-05:00

'Go home!' ends September...
Lot's of worries... how to pay bills?!
What will I do?

October brings new job
New possibilities
High hopes for better days

November unveils changes
Promises not kept.
Bitter disappointments.

December rolls through
Happy holidays!
Then, long sad walk home.

Again, no job!
What is wrong with me?
Why is this happening?

Brisk January winds.
Cold and fresh!
Unforseen opportunity!

February finds
me studying hard
so much to learn!

Life blossoms
like an early spring flower;
unexpected beauty

How lovely!
Such a wonderful scent!
Oops! A bee!

Everything changes
but, at the center
I am still and tranquil

If worry did not
drive me from my bed
late at night

I would miss the beauty
of seeing the moon
through wintry branches

Even the unexpected
twists and turns
have something to offer

Breathe in, breathe out
problems, solutions
I would not choose

to miss even a moment
of the profound beauty
of my life unfolding

Spit into life at birth
taken out again at death
and in between?

This is life
and what the world has to offer
I am thankful for all of it

10,000!

2007-01-14T10:04:00.000-05:00

'Bear Tracks' has received its 10,000th hit! Here is the info as displayed on my sitemeter:

Domain Name [ REMOVED BY REQUEST ].com ? (Commercial)
IP Address XXX.XXX.XXX.# [ REMOVED BY REQUEST ]
ISP Control Room Tech.
Location
Continent : North America
Country : United States (Facts)
State : Michigan
City : Lansing
Lat/Long : 42.7257, -84.636 (Map)
Distance : 613 miles
Language English (United States)
en-us
Operating System Microsoft WinXP
Browser Firefox
Mozilla/5.0 (Windows; U; Windows NT 5.1; en-US; rv:1.8.0.9) Gecko/20061206 Firefox/1.5.0.9
Javascript version 1.5
Monitor
Resolution : 1152 x 864
Color Depth : 32 bits
Time of Visit Jan 10 2007 11:18:47 am
Last Page View Jan 10 2007 11:18:47 am
Visit Length 0 seconds
Page Views 1
Referring URL http://mrssplapthing.blogspot.com/
Visit Entry Page http://beartrackst2nowhere.blogspot.com/
Visit Exit Page http://beartrackst2nowhere.blogspot.com/
Out Click
Time Zone UTC-5:00
Visitor's Time Jan 10 2007 11:18:47 am
Visit Number 10,000

Whoever you are, YOU are my 10,000th hit! Thanx!

(To Anonymous Visitor #10,000 who prefers to remain anonymous: I have removed the information as you have requested. My apologies for having posted it. It should have occurred to me. Sorry, my friend...)

I wanted to post something special with regard to this somewhat momentous occasion (You only get a 10,000th hit once in a lifetime, after all!) So, I decided to post some interesting facts about the number 10,000. Enjoy!!

10000 (number)

Cardinal	10000
Ordinal	10000th
	(ten thousandth)
Numeral System	decamillesimal
Factorization	24x54
Roman numeral	X
Unicode symbol(s)	X, ↂ
Greek Prefix myria-	(obsolete)
Latin Prefix	decamilli-
Binary	10011100010000
Octal	23420
Duodecimal	5954
Hexadecimal	2710

10000 (ten thousand) is the natural number following 9999 and preceding 10001.

Most languages call 10000 'ten thousands', but some languages have specific words for it: Ancient Greek μύριοι, Aramaic ܪܒܘܬܐ, Hebrew revava, Chinese 萬/万 (Mandarin wan, Cantonese maan6), Japanese 万/萬 [man], and Korean 万/만/萬 [man]. It is often used to mean an indefinite very large number.

The Greek root was used in the earlier versions of the metric system in the form myria-.

In scientific notation, it is written as 104.

It is also written as 1 E4

It is the square of 100

It is the square root of 100 000 000

A myriagon is a polygon with 10,000 sides.

10 km, 10,000 m, or 1 E4 m is equal to:

6.2 miles

side of square with area 100 km²

radius of circle with area 314.16 km²

The classical Greeks used letters of the Greek alphabet to represent Greek numerals: they used a capital letter mu (M) to represent 10000, whose name in Greek is myriad.

1040000 = 1000010000 The value of a myriad to the power of itself, written (by the system of Apollonius of Perga) as a little M directly above a larger M.

In anatomy, each neuron in the human brain is estimated to connect to 10,000 others.

In astronomy, asteroid Number: 10000 Myriostos, Provisional Designation: 1951 SY, Discovery Date: September 30, 1951 by A. G. Wilson :List of asteroids (9001-10000)

In climate, Summary of 10,000 Years is one of several pages of the Climate Timeline Tool: Exploring Weather & Climate Change Through the Powers of 10 sponsored by the National Climatic Data Center of the National Oceanic & Atmospheric Administration.

In computers, NASA to build 10,000-processor Linux computer (it is actually a 10,240-processor) news NASA Project: Columbia

In geography,

Land of 10,000 Lakes is the nickname for the state of Minnesota.

Land of 10,000 Trails or 10000trails.com was originally created in 1999 by the TN/KY Lakes Area Coalition. This organization is made up of individuals in West Tennessee and West Kentucky who have an interest in seeing tourism grow by developing trails throughout their region.

Ten Thousand Islands National Wildlife Refuge is situated in the lower end of the Fakahatchee and Picayune Strands of Big Cypress Swamp and west of Everglades National Park in Florida.

Valley of Ten Thousand Smokes in Alaska

There is no ZIP Code 10000, however ZIP Code 10001 to 10292 is New York City

In geology, a list of Largest Volcanic Eruptions in the Last 10,000 Years.

In physics,

Myria is an obsolete prefix that denoted a factor of 10+4, ten thousand, or 10,000.

Myrio is an obsolete prefix that denoted a factor of 10−4 or one ten-thousandth).

10,000 hertz, 10 kilohertz, or 10 kHz of the radio frequency spectrum falls in the very low frequency or VLF band and has a wavelength of 30 kilometers.

In orders of magnitude (speed), the speed of a fast neutron is 10,000 km/s.

In orders of magnitude (volume), the volume of 10,000 cubic kilometers or 10,000 km³ equals 1 × 1013 m³. Lake Superior contains 12,232 cubic kilometers (km³) or 2,935 cubic miles of water.

In scientific units.

10,000 square meters meters is one hectare.

In Zoology, there are approximately 10,000 species of Birds.

10,000 BC, 10,000 BCE, or 10th millennium BC.

10,000-year clock or the Clock of the Long Now is a mechanical clock designed to keep time for 10,000 years.

In art, Xenophon, on his Retreat with the "Ten Thousand", first seeing the Sea, painting by Benjamin Haydon.

In computer software,

Powers of Ten Thousand is a technique for browsing a very large space, the macroscope, involves taking the visual device of Powers of Ten and compounding it, using the computer's ability to combine, change and display images interactively.

the Year 10,000 problem is the collective name for all potential software bugs that will emerge as the need to express years with five digits arises.

In currency,

the new 10,000 Iraqi dinar banknote has Abu Ali Hasan Ibn al-Haitham (known as Alhazen to medieval scholars in the West) on the front and Hadba Minaret on the back. The old bill had a picture of Saddam Hussein and Samarra: Spiral Minaret- Al-Mawiya.

the Japanese 10,000 yen banknote has a portrait of Fukuzawa Yukichi.

the U.S. Ten Thousand Dollar Note bill has a picture of Andrew Jackson or Salmon P. Chase.

In films,

10,000 Black Men Named George (2002) (TV)

10,000 Bullets reviews films that most review sites overlook. - http://www.10kbullets.com

The Phantom from 10,000 Leagues (1956)

Vietnam: The Ten Thousand Day War (1980)

In finance, on March 29, 1999 the Dow Jones Industrial Average closed at 10,006.78 which was the first time the index closed above the 10,000 mark.

In futurology, from Visions of the Future: The 10,000-Year Library by Stewart Brand. Much of the information of the past--as well as the present--is endangered or lost forever. Underground rock vaults, "time mail," and a museum built around a 10,000 year clock are some of the ideas for assuring that vital information survives future crashes of civilizations.

In games,

each of the nine Mahjong character suit tiles (1 to 9) represents ten thousand (wan) coins, or one hundred strings of one hundred coins.

Ten Thousand Year Ko is a one of the rules of ko in the board game of Go.

In game shows, The $10,000 Pyramid ran on television from 1973 to 1974.

In handicrafts, Ten Thousand Villages is a nonprofit program which provides vital, fair income to Third World people by marketing their handicrafts and telling their stories in North America.

In history,

Army of 10,000 Sixty Day Troops, 1862-1863. American Civil War.

The Army of the Ten Thousand were a group of Ancient Greek mercenaries who marched against the Persian Shah Artaxerxes II.

The Goddess can appear as the "Lady of the Ten Thousand Names", as did Isis who was called Isis of Ten Thousand Names.

Katyn Massacre - "The Lost 10,000" by Louis FitzGibbon from The Journal of Historical Review - the killing of Polish prisoners of war by the Soviets in 1940.

The Ten thousand martyrs from The Catholic Encyclopedia.

the Persian Immortals were also called the Ten Thousand or 10,000 Immortals, so named because their number of 10,000 was immediately reestablished after every loss.

The 10,000 Day War: Vietnam by Michael MacLear ISBN 0-312-79094-5 also alternate titles The ten thousand day war : Vietnam, 1945-1975 (10,000 days is 27.4 years).

Tomb of Ten Thousand Soldiers - defeat of the Tang Dynasty army of China in the Nanzhao kingdom in 751.

In language,

the Chinese, Japanese, and Korean phrase "live for ten thousand years" was used to bless emperors in East Asia.

Μύριοι is an Ancient Greek name for 10000 taken into the modern European languages as 'myriad'.

Hebrew, Chinese, Japanese and Korean have words with the same meaning.

In law, Section 9-10.000 of the United States Attorneys' Manual deals with capital crime.

In literature,

Man'yōshū (万葉集 Man'yōshū, "Collection of Ten Thousand Leaves") is the oldest existing, and most highly revered, collection of Japanese poetry.

Ten Thousand a Year 1839 by Samuel Warren.

Ten Thousand a Year 1883?. A Drama, in Three Acts. Adapted from the celebrated novel of the same name, by the author of the Diary of a Physician, and arranged for the stage, by Richard Brinsley Peake.

Ten Thousand Monkeys is a web publisher - "10,000 monkeys at 10,000 typewriters banging out the best in short fiction." http://m10k.net/.

The Ten Thousand: A Novel of Ancient Greece by Michael Curtis Ford. 2001. ISBN 0-312-26946-3 Historic fiction.

The World of the Ten Thousand Things: Poems 1980-1990 by Charles Wright ISBN 0-374-29293-0 ISBN 0-374-52326-6.

Ten Thousand Lovers by Edeet Ravel ISBN 0-06-056562-4

In museums, The Museum of 10,000 Wonderful Things is in London.

In music,

10,000 Days is the title of the fourth studio album by Tool.

Ten Thousand Fists is an album by Disturbed.

10,000 Hz Legend album by Air 2001

10,000 Maniacs is a US rock band.

"10,000 Men" is a song by Bob Dylan.

"Ten Thousand Men of Harvard and Harvardiana" is a fight song of Harvard University.

"10,000 Miles Away" rock song by Mötley Crüe.

"10,000 promises" is a song by the Backstreet Boys.

"The Ten Thousand" is an indie rock band from Saint Louis[www.myspace.com/thetenthousand].

10,000 Promises. is a Japanese popular music group.

10,000 Things is a band in the United Kingdom.

10,000 Lakes Festival is a music and camping festival in Minnesota.

In philosophy, Lao Zi writes about "ten thousand things" in the Tao Te Ching

In Zen Buddhism, the "10,000 Things" is a term meaning all of phenomenal reality.

In physical fitness, 10,000 Steps Program is a walking exercise and health program.

Walking 10,000 steps is the approximate equivalent of walking 5 miles.

In psychology, Ten Thousand Dreams Interpreted, or what's in a dream: a scientific and practical, by Miller, Gustavus Hindman (1857-1929). (Project Gutenberg download)

In regional planning, 10,000 Friends of Pennsylvania is an alliance of organizations and individuals committed to promoting land use policies and actions that will enable Pennsylvania to strengthen its diverse urban, suburban, and rural communities and reduce sprawl.

In religion,

the Bible,
- has 41 references to "ten thousand" in a search plus 11 more for "ten thousands" in another search for a total of 52 references in the King James Version.
- 10,000 Prophets includes quote from Jude 1:14 And Enoch also, the seventh from Adam, prophesied of these, saying, Behold, the Lord cometh with ten thousands of his saints,... The Epistle of Jude.
- Revelation 5:11 "And I beheld, and I heard the voice of many angels round about the throne and the beasts and the elders: and the number of them was ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands;" (KJV) The Apocalypse of John
Buddhism,

The City of Ten Thousand Buddhas is a branch of the Dharma Realm Buddhist Association (DRBA).

Temple of 10,000 Buddhas or Monastery of 10,000 Buddhas is in Hong Kong.

hymns, Ten thousand times ten thousand.

"Ten thousand ages in Thy sight/Are like an evening gone"

In sports,

In athletics, 10,000 meters, 10 kilometers, 10 km, or 10K (6.2 miles) is the final standard track event in a long-distance track event and a distance in other racing events such as running, cycling and skiing. Example: Statesman Capitol 10,000

in bicycle racing, annual Tour of 10,000 Lakes Stage Race in Minneapolis, Minnesota.

I hope you have found some of my facts about the number Ten-Thousand informative, and, perhaps, amusing. The fact about the number Ten-Thousand that I am most fond of is that you have all found enough of interest in what I have had to say over the past years to stop by and devote a bit of your precious time to reading what I have written. I have come to know many of you over the years, and I believe that I am better for it.

Thank You

Clarity

2007-01-12T13:55:00.000-05:00

I have received a great number of emails and a few comments regarding my previous post, entitled "So, Did'ja Hear?". Some of the messages expressed interest, others surprise or confusion, and still others anger or outrage at some of the opinions that I had expressed in my post.

In some cases, many of you will simply disagree with me. That's fine. We can't always see eye to eye on everything... and sometimes we will disagree.

In other cases, however, I had a sense that what I had said was not properly understood by those who had sent me messages... it is to these people that I am directing this clarification.

This is sort of difficult, because what I am trying to express isn't exactly easy to verbalize.... it is like trying to discuss an exact point in a cloudless sky... or trying to verbally articulate the edge of space or, for that matter, a universe with no edge or end.. you can briefly get your brain around it, but its hard to put into words... sort of like trying to describe what an orange tastes like to someone who has never eaten fruit of any kind... you sort of fall short... so, I ask you to keep this in mind while you are reading what I have to say, and try to focus on the spirit of my words, rather than on the words themselves. It is the spirit of my message that is important, not the exact phraseology that I choose to convey it... I am trying to express an idea verbally that is inherently non-verbal and non-rational... but I would like as many of you as possible to try to grasp what is in my heart... I think its important. Not to me alone, but to all of us. Every self-aware being on this planet shares equal rights... and we are killing one another.

When I expressed sorrow at the death of Saddam Hussein, many people understood this to mean that I was in some way sympathetic with his actions... or with his personality or character...

I AM NOT IN ANY WAY IN AGREEMENT WITH HIS ACTIONS OR SYMPATHETIC WITH HIS ACTIONS OR CHOICES.

I want this much to be clear.

When I was expressing my sorrow at his death, I was expressing sorrow for the person that lies beneath the conditioned attributes and qualities that are a constructed overlay to his basic true nature (this is true of any of us... under the layer of our personality is the true nature of our mind, and of our spirit.. this is what we were when we first sparked into life - clean, unsullied, non-discriminating, and pure).

Beneath all of his choices, experiences, actions, thoughts, ideas, concepts, feelings, preferences, judgments, discernments, and emotions there is a pure 'mind-ground' (if you want to call it that...): The empty canvas or clean slate of a soul, spirit, or mind... the essential fabric of a 'self' that is pure, non-attaching, non-dual, and therefore unsullied and unaffected by all that is imposed upon it during the lifetime of that self.

I am trying to describe the essence and soul of the man... before he had a personality, identity, name, or choices... When he was an infant... or while he was in the womb, or perhaps before that... when he was suddenly self-aware.. and nothing more... at that moment his soul was pure, and clean, and just as it was - neither good nor bad, neither this, nor that... just... so. It is that unconditioned 'suchness' upon which all of his thoughts and experiences were painted and resulted in the personality of the man we came to know as 'Saddam Hussein'. But that all came later... I am focusing on what came first.

This is what I am addressing and this is what I am expressing sorrow for...

At this level, we are all the same... we are all one being.... and we are all worthy of love, compassion, and respect. ALL OF US. Nobody gets left out. What is the worth of a life?? I cannot restore a life, so, to me at least, it is precious. Every life.

What Mr. Hussein chose to do in his life incurred a huge karmic debt that he was bound to have to pay at some point... he was compelled to face justice, and he did so. This is what happens when you take certain actions, and I have no issue with this. At what point is one considered to have paid his or her debt to society? What can such a person do to redeem oneself?? I am not sure that it is possible, which is a sad situation in and of itself.

What dismays me is that he never showed the slightest remorse... and he apparently never came to an understanding regarding the impact that his actions had upon so very many other lives.... and that is shameful.

He left this life without having learned or improved a single bit, but only having caused untold pain and suffering to others.... and he was in a position that would have allowed him to do so much good and bring so much joy and prosperity to so many lives...

If it doesn't disturb the inner tranquility and peace of mind of those of you who contemplate this fact, then I am at a loss for words...

He was a person. He had a life. And it was wasted. Entirely.

To me, that is a very sad situation.

I don't think that there was a better way that the governmental entities could have handled the situation... and am not finding fault with anyone... unless it would be the lack of dignity in the proceedings... but, that is neither here nor there...

What is done is done... but, to my mind at least, an 'eye for an eye'; and soon the whole world is blind.

Violence has never enriched the life of a single person in all of history.

That's all I really wanted to say.

So, Did'ja Hear?!

2006-12-31T11:11:00.000-05:00

While I was at work, one of the other members of the staff was working nearby and, apparently bursting with this bit of info, asked, "Hey! Did'ja hear they hanged Saddam Hussein!! Good Riddance, huh!"

Now, I am no great fan of Saddam Hussein... or at least of the Saddam Hussein that I have constructed in my mind, made up of all the bits and pieces and tidbits of data that I somehow accumulated about him over the past few years.

Come to think of it, there isn't really all that much that I know about him that is honest, first-hand information at all.

Almost everything I know (or think I know) about him is second-hand... whatever I have happened to hear or read in the news.

I let the news of his execution roll around in my mind for a few moments, and, surprisingly... or, perhaps not so surprisingly... I found that I took no great joy in the news that he was led to a gallows, had a rope fastened around his neck, and dropped from a height great enough to break his neck and kill him. If I allow myself to empathize to the point of imagining what it must have felt like being him in those last desperate moments, I find that the thoughts and feelings are very disturbing to me.

Naturally, when I voiced my thoughts in answer to my co-workers question; that I wasn't really happy to hear that he (Saddam Hussein) had been killed, everyone within earshot was incredulous. Perhaps some were outraged. How could I defend a tyrant who was so brutal and vicious??!

Well... I went on to explain that it isn't the death of a tyrant that saddens me. This was a matter of justice, and I would not be so arrogant as to countermand or question the wheels of justice. It isn't my place. He was tried, convicted, and sentenced. It is my assumption that there was more than enough evidence to prove his guilt. His end, therefore, was rightly deserved.

But this isn't what saddens me.

What I find disturbing is that some time ago, a baby was born... a fat, wriggling infant with the entire world set out before it, and an entire lifetime to experience whatever came its way. This child was apparently in a position to become the leader of a country... a country that has one of the oldest civilizations in history.

Here was a man who was in a position to do great works. He could have been a kind and just leader, much loved by his people. There was so much suffering and need in that part of the world that one would think he had his work plainly cut out for him.

Instead, he allowed a dark wind to blow through his soul at some point in his life, and rather than use his position of leadership to help his people, and improve their lot, he instead focused on grasping, taking, accumulating wealth and power. Instead of taking joy in the simple things such as the love of his wife (wives?), children, and friends... he took what they had, took their lives... destroyed their livlihoods... tortured, maimed, and injured.

Rather than realizing that he was capable of exercising love, compassion and kindness as the leader of his country, he instead attempted to take everything that existed within the realm of his knowledge.... even the poor miserable lives of the lowliest of his subjects - and in so doing he made their lot even more difficult and burdensome than it ever needed be.

So. A lifetime that could have been instrumental in the improvement of the lives of so many people, a lifetime that could have brought joy, happiness, prosperity, and kindness was instead wasted and ended abruptly with the snap of a rope.

All that is left is a country in ruins, countless shattered lives, and who knows how many years of painstaking work simply to get back to where they all were years ago.

The breaking of Saddam Hussein's neck ended a life, but I seriously doubt that it changed anything; other than taking him out of this world that he so grievously injured, and so apparently despised.

I am not saddened at that fact that justice was executed upon him for his acts of oppression and murder.

I am saddened that that infant, who had such an opportunity to do so very much good in the world let it all go to waste.

Even Saddam Hussein was a child of god. His life was still a life. I guess it is my thought that killing him simply adds one more sad, hopeless, wasted life to the great pile of sad, hopeless, wasted lives that he wrought through his acts of cruelty.

It just strikes me as being kind of sad, I guess.

When I had stopped speaking, I could see that I must have caused many of the folks listening to confront a number of issues that had never occurred to them before this.. I don't think that they had ever stopped to think of Mr. Hussein as a person - an honest-to-god, flesh and blood, real life human being who had actually had all of the power and influence that he had had, and who had chosen to do what he had done rather than do good things. I am sure than many also must have wondered, as I have, whether any of us would have done better, or whether that dark wind would have blown through our souls, as it had, apparently, through his... and perhaps whether we would have done the same, or worse.

Some of the folks who had been listening to me when I was speaking later told me that they were bothered by the thought of all of the pain that he had caused, and that this hanging did nothing to ameliorate that suffering, or to change anything about it....

We were all disturbed by the fact that he had never apparently shown the slightest bit of remorse for his actions.

One by one, they each approached me throughout the night and said that they thought that what I had said made a great deal of sense. Some mentioned that even in smaller, less influential and powerful lives, such as our own... that same dark wind can cause some of us to do things that perhaps we would not otherwise do...

I wonder if any of us will be able to learn anything useful from the mistakes of Mr. Hussein, and perhaps avoid the same pitfalls that entrapped him and led him to such a terrible end to what could have been such an illustrious life??

I don't think that most will even give it a second thought. But, I know that he is most likely no better and no worse than I am. He was once a baby, just like I was, and at the height of his power, he was just a man, like I am. He was just a man with more stuff, and that somehow endowed him in the eyes of those around him with the power of life and death over others. In taking those lives, he gave away his own.

That is the inescapable fact of the universe. Balance is sought and achieved througout the universe... its the way things work. And when we take an action, we set a course of events in motion that also changes us in some way and that takes its toll on us for ill or for good.

What I wonder is whether Saddam Hussein knew he was doing wrong or whether he somehow convinced himself that his actions were justified. If so, then I am just as guilty as he is at some level, because, in retrospect, this is a mistake that I, too, have often made.

Is it any different for any one of us?

Got a Second?

2006-12-28T18:14:00.000-05:00

My bones chill and my skin crawls at hearing these simple words; "Got a Second?"

Why?

Because, in my experience, they are generally followed by some comment, information, or news that either:

Entirely craps-up my day.

Generally pisses me off.

Is designed to make me feel unworthy of living and breathing.

Communicates to me that I am in trouble, fired, or no longer involved in a personal relationship... or, that I either owe money I didn't expect to owe, or will not be receiveing money that I am expecting to recieve.

Utterly cramps my style and screws up my plans.

Changes my life and/or lifestyle in a deleterious manner.

Indicates that the agreement that we have previously arrived at is now null and void, and that there isn't a damned thing I can do about it.

Today, after hearing the dreaded "Got a second?", I was told that it was no longer financially feasible to continue to fill my position. So, as of that moment, I was out of a job. As a consolation prize, they agreed to pay for half of the day tomorrow, and in return I don't have to get up, get dressed, and go in to the office.

Yay. Wow.

I have tried to convey to various individuals over the years that in fact I DO NOT have a second... but, alas, this has not helped my case a bit. They always barge on ahead with their crappy news... and, as it turns out, I have a second, whether I want to or not.

Being asked if I 'Have a second?' is nearly as bad as being told that somebody has put something that is vitally important 'in a safe place'.

Back to the drawing board, I suppose....

Next time somebody asks me if I 'have a second' they very well may just get knocked out.

The One that Got Away

2006-12-17T13:39:00.000-05:00

Sure enough, the bait and switch tactic had to come to a head sooner or later… they always do. I was told that I was going out on the road ‘for training’ last Thursday and Friday. I dutifully went out with one of the drivers in order to learn the ‘hands on’ stuff that all of the drivers are required to know. I wasn’t thrilled, but I figured that it made good sense to have everybody trained equally so that in the event of an emergency, they could always handle the work load.

One small detail that sort of ran around in my mind was that neither the dispatcher nor the other office gal were licensed or trained, nor were they planning to be. I also spoke with the vehicle mechanic, who is licensed to drive anything on the road… and, as it turns out, he is not trained, nor is he planning to be trained to be a stand-in driver. The question that springs to my mind is this: if we are all purportedly being trained to be stand-in drivers… why aren’t we all being trained? For some reason, this sort of bothered me… but I didn’t voice it or indicate it in any way.

On the day that I was told I had to go on the road, I was told the day of the training, and had no prior warning whatsoever… I had an idea that I would be doing this at some undetermined time in the future, but this was as far as it went. As it turned out, I was scheduled to work another job directly after I left work that day, and it wasn’t a situation where arriving late was at all acceptable. The start time was the start time, and, even on time we are time-pressured and have to really move our asses to keep up so that everything will be ready at the start time of the event… in this case, a holiday party.

Well… 20 minutes prior to the end of my scheduled workday, the dispatcher was trying to assign another run to the driver who was assigned to train me… I told him that I was scheduled to work elsewhere, and that no matter what, I had to be back at the office by 3:30PM, come what may. I explained that I had not been given the courtesy of advance notice, and that I didn’t think that it was fair to expect me to stay late without at least asking me if it would be an inconvenience. They are aware that I must work part-time elsewhere to make ends meet.

The driver told the dispatcher that he couldn’t accept the run due to the fact that he had to get me back to the office so that I could make it to my second job on time. He also reminded her that we had not been given a lunch break during the entire day. She grudgingly allowed him to return me to the office, but, when we returned, I could tell that she was royally pissed off.

The next day was a repeat of the same thing, and I got back 20 minutes late, which threw my schedule off entirely. I called her from home later on in the evening, and explained that this could not continue along these lines. That I was committed to work at the time that I had agreed… at least until the week ended (I commit to a different schedule each week.. depending upon what they need, and what schedule I am able to accept.. but, once I commit I cannot back out. If you do this, you don’t get any more work!!), and that being late affected my credibility, and thus negatively affected my finances. Unacceptable! She was very annoyed and clipped with me on the telephone, and said that I would have to speak with the owner about it. She wanted to be able to schedule me to work at her convenience, and didn’t want to hear it from me.

I thought about this… and decided to simply wait and discuss it with the boss the next day.

The next working day, which was this past Monday, a woman showed up at the office to begin training as the administrative specialist. I was asked to clear my stuff from the desk so that she would have a place to work.

I was called in to the office, and the boss made it clear in no uncertain terms that I was no longer to be carried as an admin specialist, and that instead, I was to be assigned as a full-time driver. I was also informed that the schedule that we had originally agreed to was no longer acceptable to the company (7AM to 3:30PM) and that I would be required to work from 7AM until at least 5:30PM and possibly as late as 9PM when the situation required. He also expressed dissatisfaction with my refusal to work, or at least to be available, on weekends. He said that this would have to change, that I would eventually have to make myself available at any time that the company needed me to work.

I sat quietly and listened to all of this, and at the end I simply told him that it was a lot of information to process, and that I would have to give it all some serious thought. I said that I didn’t really want to respond in any way, since I had had no time to organize my thoughts or prepare any sort of sensible response. He agreed that this was wise and that is how we left it.

I went to work as usual on Tuesday morning, and when the dispatcher came in, she told me to try on a uniform jacket (drivers wear them), gave me a Nextel radio, and told me that I had to leave it on at all times, even when I was at home, so that they would be able to call me in whenever they needed somebody, and then handed me a huge packet of paperwork to fill out. This was all forms that had to be turned into the state department of motor vehicles. She told me that I had to fill it out immediately, that it was ‘Top Priority’ and that there was nothing that I had to do that was more important. She wanted to ‘get me out on the road’ as soon as possible.

I took the paperwork to another room and sat down, dejectedly, and began to fill it all out. As I was doing this, it occurred to me that I didn’t at all want to do this. I didn’t hire on as a driver. I was not really given an option. And above all, it didn’t strike me as being either courteous or fair to push me into this situation without so much as a ‘beggin’ your pardon’.

Well… I more or less decided on the spot that in fact I wasn’t going to do it, and that the best course of action that I could take would be to go and inform the boss and nip this whole thing in the bud. There was really no point in continuing any further. It was bullshit, and I figured that being frank and honest, and calling a spade a spade was the smartest course of action.

I figured that this would mean that I would be unemployed at a difficult time of year to find work, but, I also figured that the longer I continued along this path, the harder it would be.

So, I walked over to the boss, who was in a conversation with the dispatcher, and I politely waited at a distance until he took notice, which, honestly, wasn’t all that long..

I asked him if he had a moment, that I had something to discuss with him. He asked me what was on my mind, and I asked whether we could discuss it in privacy in his office. He raised his eyebrows for a second, but agreed, and in we went. I basically told him that I didn’t want to be a driver, that it wasn’t the job that I had applied for and accepted, that one of the main draws of the job was the schedule that we had agreed upon, and that he had never once been able to articulate a single substandard thing regarding my work performance. I told him that I felt I was being treated unfairly, and that I had kept to my word in everything that we had agreed upon. I also said that I had been doing a fantastic job for him, and that I knew that he knew it. I told him that as of that moment, I was not driving any more, and that I was aware that it most likely meant that I was out of a job, but that this was my decision and that I was sticking to it. I told him that I had perceived him as being a pious and honorable man, and that I was mostly upset that my perception and judgement had been wrong on that account, and that I was sorely disappointed. I told him that I would stay on doing office work until the new person was sufficiently trained, or until he found a replacement if that was what he needed, but that it would more convenient to me if I could simply leave after the meeting and move on with searching for a full-time position elsewhere.

He sat and listened to what I said, and then said, “I had hoped that you would like the driver position, and that it would work out.”. I repeated that I understood that I would be out of a job, but if that was how it was going to be, then that was how it was going to be.

He said, “We have to decide what do now. I can’t afford to have two people working full-time in the office, but, at the moment, you are essentially covering the office from 7AM until 9AM, after which I had hoped to put you out on the road to cover the runs that need to be covered. Since that didn’t work out, I can double those hours, and have you cover from 7AM until 11AM. This would give you time to look for employment elsewhere and go on interviews, and still give you at least a partial paycheck until you find something. If you find some part-time work in the afternoons, and want to continue working here on that schedule, we can do it permanently, but if you find something full-time, I just ask that you keep me informed so that I can make arrangements to fill the position.”

This seemed to me to be a fair arrangement, given the circumstances…. not optimal, but fair. Apparently, the other person in the office, the dispatcher, has a problem with a male filling the position. She wants a female in there… and I suppose she was chipping away at him the entire time. He tried to put lipstick on a pig and put a good face on it by offering me a position driving. It didn’t work out, but I understand his way of thinking.

I am glad that it turned out not to be a planned out ‘bait and switch’ scam after all. I like him, and I don’t want to think that he is a shit. So, that is my situation now… I have work, at least part-time… and I am free to find something else without the pressure of no income whatsoever. I now have a fairly low-level commercial driver’s license, as well as a valid learner’s permit for a higher level commercial driver’s license. This can’t really hurt… and it didn’t cost me a dime! (They are fairly expensive… and the company footed the bill… plus I got a free physical, so, it all worked out sort of well in the end.)

The job didn’t really pay well from the start, and I more or less took it with the caveat that I would try to find something that paid a better salary in any case.

So now I have the freedom to schedule interviews, and to have some time to search around until I find something that I am better suited for, and, hopefully, that will pay a great deal more as well.

So, that's my story... I managed to narrowly escape a crappy situation, somehow worked out an acceptable interim circumstance, and now, once again, have my work cut out for me.. I need to find work. I suppose I had best get to it, then... Wish me luck!

Red Smoke, Green Parrot & Donall

2006-12-03T21:22:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, my wife and I were out running some errands. We were both fairly hungry, and prior to going out, Marcheline had asked me where we should go to eat.

I suggested a place that I had heard about called "Red Smoke"

Now, there's a small back-story to this.. I had first heard about this place back in July or August and had suggested going there. My wife immediately allowed that it sounded great, and agreed that we should go 'sometime'.

Over the ensuing months, whenever some occasion popped up where I was asked to suggest a place where we might go and eat, I would dutifully say, "Hey! Why don't we go and try that 'Red Smoke' place?", and my wife would reply, "Well... I want to try it, but, I don't want to go 'dressed like this'."

(What'the!?! - we go to all sorts of places 'dressed like this' ... what's the deal??) - but... I wouldn't make an issue out of it. I figured she just didn't feel like going there, and left it that... although, it was weird, because my wife generally says precisely what she thinks and/or feels, doesn't very often beat around the bush, and certainly never comes up with weird cheesy cop-out excuses for not doing something; she just says, "I don't want to do that" and that's that. But, there's a first time for everything, I figured, so I let it be.

So.. back to yesterday, I suggested "Red Smoke", and she readily agreed!! (This took place at the house, before we left.) Over the next hour or two, while we were out and about, she would ask me again and again where I thought we should eat, I would reply, "I thought we were going to 'Red Smoke'?", and she would mumble something like, "Oh, yeah... that's right...". Soon, the question began being, "Where is this Red Smoke place, again?", or, "How far away is this place?".

I was getting a vibe that she wanted to worm out of the whole 'Red Smoke' thing and go someplace else that was either: a). Closer, or: b). More familiar. In any case, I was definitely getting a sense that 'Red Smoke' was simply out of the question. She had been resisting going to this place pretty much every time I brought it up, and she was resisting it now... and it just didn't seem cool to force her to try something that she didn't want to try (But she wants to try EVERYTHING - so what was the deal??!!)

I finally said, "Forget it. Let's just go someplace else. It is fairly clear that you just don't want to go there... so you suggest someplace. I made my suggestion. Now its your turn."

She mulled it over for a while, then, apparently coming to a decision, she shrugged and said, "Let's go to 'Red Smoke'"

I said, "Now you want to go??!!"

She said, "Yeah.. let's go."

So... we went!

When we pulled up in front of the place, which was a storefront, 'get yer food at the counter and go find a table' 'spit and sawdust' kind of place, she breathed a huge sigh of relief and said, "Ohhhhh.... I thought this place was some kind of new fancy restaurant! I was afraid that I would look like a complete jackass walking in there in jeans!"

I had never even considered that the place was that kind of a restaurant... so I had never even attempted to disabuse her of that notion!...

"So THAT'S why you never wanted to come here 'DRESSED LIKE THIS'!!" I said, turning to her, and cracking up!!

"Yeah! You said 'This new restaurant just opened up, and I thought it was a fancy sit-down restaurant... it never crossed my mind that it was a take-out joint!"

We both got a kick out how badly we had communicated over this issue... for months!!

Man, we weren't even close to speaking the same language!!

We went out to get our Yule Tree today, and on the way there, while sitting at a traffic light, we observed a motor vehicle accident happen right in front of us. It looked like a bad one, a broadside, and at fairly high speed... one of the cars lifted up on two wheels, but at the balancing point it fell back down onto its wheels, bounced a few times, then came to rest after getting blown from the center of the intersection to the curb. Once the smoke cleared and we had a chance to assess what had happened, it turned out that everyone was basically unhurt, so we continued on our way; but it gave us a good start. Why don't people learn to drive more carefully during such times?? Instead, they seem to drive like lunatics, and people get needlessly hurt and killed. Grrrr!

We name our trees each year, and this year's tree is named 'Donall'. He is a braw beautiful tree, and we will be happily decorating him tommorrow night (Monday).

Donall Being Escorted into Thistlebright Cottage by One Happy Bear!!

When we got home, we were unloading the vehicle and carrying stuff into the cottage and all the while we both kept hearing a really strange bird cry. We had both heard the same call numerous times over the past months, but could never identify the creator of the sound; until today! We both stopped and began visually searching the trees for the source of the call, and finally Marcheline spotted this guy sitting on one of the branches of a tree in our backyard;

He has apparently run away from home, has woken up from a drunken binge, and now seems to think that he is a mourning dove. He was following a flock of them from tree to tree, squawking and screeching and squalling at them.

The doves were unavailable for comment as of presstime.

I'm worried about the wee bugger. Its getting cold out, and I'm not sure that he's very well equipped to survive.

Neither of us are very sure of what we can do, though... particularly since he was last seen heading southeast at 40 knots at an altitude of 185 feet.

Bait & Switch, or Necessity?? Only Her Hairdresser Knows For Sure!

2006-12-03T11:55:00.000-05:00

So. When we last tuned in, Bear had found a job as an Admin Assistant at a local Ambulette company, where he was getting settled in, and becoming reasonably happy...

Ahem..

As it turns out, the winds of change are incessant in this part of the world, and of late, I have been getting pressured to obtain a CDL license so that I could serve as a 'stand-in' driver whenever such services are needed. When this was first brought up, I explained that I didn't really much care for the idea, but that I would be willing to do it in exceptional circumstances.

I dutifully went and took the test for the license, passed, and now have a nominal CDL (Commercial Driver's License) Class C license that allows me to operate a commercial vehicle with fewer than 7 passengers. I also have a valid Class B Learner's Permit, and can schedule the Skills/Road Test whenever I feel that I am prepared to do so.. (I am *woefully* unprepared as of this writing...).

A CDL is probably not such a bad thing to have, in the grand scheme... HOWever...

I was hired as an Admin Assistant... and this is what I want to do... In conversations with a number of the other drivers, I have since learned that a great number of them were hired as Office workers, admin assistants, and other various and sundry positions, only to be slowly shang-hai'ed into accepting ambulette driver positions.

I am starting to feel as though I have been played. I don't like bait & switch games. I don't like being manipulated. I don't like being decieved. I just don't like it very much at all....

The thing is, the owner of the company still strikes me as an honest guy, with a good heart. It is my thought that he hired me on the up and up, and that everything was done on the level, but that he is under incredible pressure to put enough drivers on the road to keep the company viable. In fact, a couple of days ago, he put on his jacket and went out on the road to do a few runs himself. He isn't asking anything of me that he won't do as well, and you can't ask much more of a leader.

The thing is, I just don't want to do it. I also don't want to leave him in a lurch.

He mentioned that the drivers get paid even less than I do, which, honestly, isn't really very much. I certainly hope that he doesn't plan on paying me at the lower rate whenever he has me doing any sort of driving stuff... because that ain't workin' AT ALL!!

I haven't done any driving yet, because I haven't been trained, but he plans on putting me out on the road this coming week with one of the experienced drivers. Once I spend a full day in training, I am fair game.

I have a feeling that I will be finding myself more and more behind the wheel, and less and less behind a desk.

I told him that I would give it a fair go... and I plan on doing that. But, I don't think I am going to like it very much at all.. which, I suppose, isn't really approaching it with all due fairness.. but, there it is.

It is looking, folks, like I am going to be searching for another job soon...

At least I have a steady income while I do so, which is more than many folks can say, so I am fortunate.

I just wish I could be hired for a job, do the job, and have that be enough one of these times...

ACH!!

Hold the Presses!

2006-12-02T23:50:00.000-05:00

I was scheduled to tend bar at a party this evening. It may have been a wedding, an engagement party, a surprise 60th birthday party, or perhaps a bar/bat mitvah or anniversary soire. I don't know what it was supposed to be, but I didn't go.

I was out and about with my wife today, running errands and generally enjoying the time with her, when I received a page from my boss. When I called him, he said that the party had been cancelled, due to a death in the family.

I don't know what kind of party it was going to be, but my heart goes out to the family who had been all set for a night of fun and celebration, and who, instead, are now grieving.

Somewhere in the recesses of my mind is a picture of a young bride-to-be, sitting and sobbing into her wedding dress because her mom or dad passed away...

I cannot change this situation... I can only accept it, and deal with it.

But it makes me feel sad. I accept that death is a part of the plan. I accept that there is nothing that we can do about it. I have no choice.

I send my prayers out to these people who I do not know, who now have this difficult burden of grief to bear, instead of the fun time that they had all been anticipating.

For the rest of us, I suppose we can accept this event as a reminder that life is short, and that our time together here is limited, and that we have *absolutely* no say regarding when we will meet our end... so, perhaps will appreciate one another, our time together, and the beauty of this precise moment.

Whoever you are that just left this place; go in harmony, may you have very few regrets as go. I wish you swift travels, and may you rest in peace. I would have done a good job for you tonight... I promise. I am sorry that we couldn't have met.

Thanksgiving Remembrances...

2006-11-23T15:50:00.000-05:00

Every year, when I was a kid, I wanted to watch two things that were shown on network television every bloody Thanksgiving; (Network television because there wasn't anything else! You watched what was showing... or nothing! Period!)

Every year they would show Laurel & Hardy in "March of the Wooden Soldiers" and they would show "King Kong".

As of this day, I have never, ever gotten to see either of the movies in their entirety on Thanksgiving.

For some reason my grandfather, who loved me dearly, and who generally went out of his way to see that I got things that I wanted, in this one instance was in opposition to me, and I'm not really sure why.

He and my grandmother were both drinkers, and Thanksgiving Day was essentially a day to get, well... Shitfaced!

I'm sure that being three sheets to the wind by 10AM most likely had something to do with it... but I can't really be sure.

The reason that I would want to watch these movies, in addition to wanting to see them because I just liked them, is that the kids at school would all start talking about what they traditionally watched on Thanksgiving at their houses, and the talk would build up and build up until we broke out of school on the day before Thanksgiving, and then I would have to hear all of them discussing the finer points of the movies throughout the following week back at school, without the benefit of having actually seen the movies in question... (well... I had seen "King Kong", but it helped to have everything fresh in your mind if you wanted to sound like you had a clue at all!)

I would usually start out by asking whether I could watch my shows a few days (read weeks) before Thanksgiving... to which I would either be told "sure!", or, "we'll see" depending upon the mood and identity of whoever I happened to be asking..

When the actual Day came along, it generally went something like this;

I would get my pillow, park my skinny ass in front of the TV and flip through the channels until I found whatever channel the first movie (March of the Wooden Soldiers) was on, and I would sit through 20 minutes of whatever hideous and miserable show that was on before it... The commercial would come on, and then, finally the music and credits for the actual movie would appear. Three minutes into the movie, my grandfather would haul himself out of his chair, walk over to the TV, switch the channel to something else, and say, "Alright mac, that's enough... time for me to watch something, now..." or, more to the point, "You aren't watching this crap. It's my house. When you grow up and get your own house, and your own TV, you can watch what you want."

Naturally, I would raise holy shittin' hell over this, feeling that I was being treated unfairly, and becoming indignant over the outrage. The arguing and screaming would commence, and sooner or later my mom would slap the living crap out of me for being 'fresh' to my grandfather... then I would be 'fresh' to her, too... out of sheer indignance, audacity, and pig-headed stubbornness (which, admittedly, I have way too much of..)

There would generally be a contest of switching the channel back and forth until I was threatened with something sufficiently inconvenient to prevent me from daring to touch the TV again, whereupon I would go in search of the big guns; Nana!!!

She would be half in the bag by now, too, and every indignity and injustice that she had ever suffered or that she perceived that she had suffered at the hands of my grandfather would, I'm sure, surge right to the surface, and she would wade in... all barrels blazing!!

"JOE! Why can't the poor kid watch his shows?? You're like a dog in a manger! You haven't even glanced at the TV the entire day, and you know that he was waiting to watch his movies, and now you have to decide that you want to change the channel??"

My grandfather was not one to cave in just like that... he once returned to the bar that he owned to find that some guys with broken noses and pinky rings had installed a juke box without having discussed it with him. He called the owner of the jukebox company, which was printed on a sticker right on the jukebox, and told him that since they didn't show him the respect of asking him first whether he wanted a jukebox in his bar, to come and take it out of there immediately.

The gent on the other end of the phone told him that the jukebox was staying, or that he (my Pop) would be cleaning his brains off of the bar.

My grandfather wasn't dissuaded by this and told the man that if the jukebox wasn't out of his bar in 30 minutes, that he was going to throw it into the middle of Richmond Avenue, which was the main thouroghfare in Staten Island where my grandfather's tavern was located.

The man on the other end of the phone said, "The jukebox STAYS!! Touch it, and you're a DEAD MAN!"

After 30 minutes, my grandfather picked up the jukebox, carried outside, singlehandedly (He was a very large man), and threw it into the middle of Richmond Avenue, smashing it into a million pieces...!!

When the Gangster Boss showed up at the Bar to confront my grandfather about the incident, my grandfather explained that had he been shown the slightest bit of respect, that he would have happily allowed the jukebox to stay... as a matter of fact, he had been thinking of calling that very company to ask for one!

The Mob Boss was incredulous at this, and asked why my grandfather had done this, hadn't he known that he would be dead?? My grandfather replied that he knew that most likely this was the case, but that right was right and that was that.

He offered the Mob boss, whose name was Jimmy, a drink. They sat, and they drank, and Jimmy pointed out that it was kind of quiet in the place, and my grandfather asked him if he knew anyplace where a tavern owner might obtain a jukebox, and Jimmy allowed that he might just know of such a person... and, from that day on they were very close friends. Until the day they died, actually.

Needless to say, he didn't back down an inch from my grandmother, who had a certain amount of chutzpah in her own right.. having once driven the family car through the front wall of the Tavern they both owned because my grandfather had 'eighty-sixed' her and had the lads toss her out of the bar and lock the door!!

So... every year, I would want to watch my movies. Every year, Pop would put the kabosh on it, and every year I would go to my grandmother. And every year I would start a great big domestic quarrel.

When I was 11 or 12 years old, I think I finally put two and two together, accepted the fact that I wasn't going to ever be allowed to watch those movies on Thanksgiving, and that bringing it up was only going start a huge fight and ruin everyone's Thanksgiving. So I stopped even trying.

I have never to this day watched either of those movies on a Thanksgiving Day, for some odd reason... I suppose if I had them on DVD I probably would... but it never occurs to me to even think about it until the very day... and then its too late.

As a matter of fact, I have never seen the movie "March of the Wooden Soldiers" in its entirety in one sitting, though I have seen bits and bobs of it over the years...

As it turns out, not bringing up the movie thing never once prevented a huge family fight on Thanksgiving... they simply found something else to fight about! It was either my grandfather suddenly surging to his feet and throwing everyone out of his house; including my grandmother (which didn't really go over all that well!), accusing everyone of being freeloaders, no good bums, etc., or my grandmother spilling some secret in front of everyone in the entire family that would instantly infuriate the person who had told her the secret in confidence, AND start some huge shit between that person and whoever the secret happened to be about, who would invariably be right there... otherwise where's the fun in it atall, I suppose, right? OR... my mom would start in on someone, a cousin would make a quip, my aunt or uncle would let my mom or one of my granparents have it, or someone would simply punch somebody else in the face ... and the fight was on!

The table went over, somebody always went ass over teakettle over the coffee table, and my battlestation was to protect the fishtank. (I enjoyed mixed success with this task.... sigh).

One of these days, I am going to watch both of these movies, on Thanksgiving Day, and then I am going to throw everyone out of the house.... and I am going to go with them...

After all, who wants to sit home all alone on Thanksgiving??

Happy Thanksgiving!

2006-11-23T10:53:00.000-05:00

I am thrilled to be off today, and to be able to spend the entire day with my wife!!

We started the day out slowly, and as I type this, a pot of delicious, festive, flavored coffee is brewing! Once we enjoy our morning coffee and make the requisite 'family-holiday-calls', we will start to liesurely prepare our holiday dinner.

I have been counting the minutes and seconds to our day off together, since we don't see all that much of one another these days due to our crazy work schedules... either she works on any given weekend day, or I do... or we both do.... but it hardly ever works out that neither of us are scheduled to work.

Somewhere along the line, I have managed to catch a creeping crud (probably at work... where everyone is hacking out a lung on a constant basis... ick!)

My head feels like it has been forcefully pumped full of goo. My eyes feel like they are being squeezed, my ear canals are 'scratchy' and I hear everything as though I am listening through stereo wrapping paper tubes. Lastly, I can barely breathe...

Luckily, I get the occasional painful sneeze or coughing bout where I tear an internal organ in order to break up the monotony. Hopefully, it will pass quickly so that I can simply get on with it.

In any case, I don't plan on letting a stupid cold or flu ruin my day off with my girl. I am off to start the day with a nice, hot, steaming cup of coffee, and then I will get started on dinner prep!

Hopefully, my head won't explode at the dinner table...

That would be incredibly inconvenient. Not to mention the difficulty of trying to clean up such a huge mess with no head!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Us

2006-11-20T07:25:00.000-05:00

Last night we both had to work at our respective 'weekend' jobs. We got up and had our Sunday morning coffee, and then, later on in the day we went trundling off to our favorite Turkish Food restaurant for lunch. We ate, we talked non-stop, each of us sampling the other's food... and then we headed back to the cottage to start getting ready for work..

After work, we cooked up some food and plopped on the couch to watch the rest of "Rocky Jones, Space Ranger: Crashing Moons!" (This isn't a joke... this movie was *SO* bad that it was actually fantastic!).

Part way through the movie, we simply paused it, and sat and talked and cracked each other up, and laughed until we cried, stomachs and cheeks aching, and throats raw..

I am giggling now thinking about it!..

And, that says more about 'us', in a much more eloquent fashion, I think, than I ever could... so I thought that I would share..

It occurs to me that marrying my wife was one of the few deals in life where the reality is really and truly much, much better than I had ever expected it to be... I had very high expectations... but the reality is just so much better than I ever could have hoped for that all I can do is constantly send silent (or not so silent!) 'Thank You's' to whoever or whatever may have been responsible for my good fortune...

I am so fortunate to have her to love me...

...

...

Well.. Monday morning, and I am at work, so I suppose I had better get to it... My boss is a good guy, and I don't want to take advantage...

From the Monastery Kitchen

2006-11-11T00:20:00.000-05:00

Tonight I made some monastery soup, and thought that I would share my recipe with you. I started with a recipe from "A Year of Monastery Soups", but I did quite a bit of my own 'tweaking', so now it is a completely different recipe, with a completely different taste, feel, flavor, and mood. It is an easy enough soup to make, and it is hearty and delicious. Use a big pot, it makes quite a bit! I like to serve this with two loaves of fresh baked bread and some softened butter... sometimes I will make an herb spread, sometimes not.

Potato, Leek, Artichoke Soup with Sausage

8 Red Potatoes (peeled and cubed)
2 Small Onions (chopped)
10 Cloves of Garlic (chopped)
1 Leek (rinsed and chopped - make sure you get all the sand out!)
6 Hot Sausages
2 sweet sausages (I get the packs of mixed sweet and hot sausages. I bag and freeze the remaining sweet sausages, they will be used in pasta sauce another day!)
2 14oz Cans Artichoke Hearts (drain well before using)
3 Cans Chicken Broth
1 Can Beef Broth
2 Cups Dry White Wine
4 Tablespoons Lemon Juice
2 Whole Bay Leaves
2 Eggs
Olive Oil
Salt & Pepper
Rosemary
Coriander
Parsley

Loaf of fresh bread and butter.

Cut Sausages up into chunks (I cut them to approximately four pieces per sausage). Pour approximately two tablespoons of olive oil into a dutch oven or frying pan.
Brown sausages. Cut sausages into small pieces (about the size of Milk Duds). Set aside.

Pour approximately seven tablespoons of olive oil into bottom of pan and add onions. Simmer for 5 minutes. Add Leeks. Simmer 5 more minutes, add garlic, simmer for an additional five minutes, then add wine, cover, and simmer over very low heat for about 5 minutes more, stirring occasionally.

Transfer to large soup pot (You can make this all in the soup pot… I do not… I suppose I like cleaning lots of pots and mixing bowls or something… ).

Add sausage, potatoes, artichoke hearts, bay leaves, rosemary, coriander (go easy with the rosemary and coriander… they can easily take over your soup! Just a dash is needed) and 2 tablespoons of the lemon juice. Stir thoroughly. Bring soup to a boil for about five minutes, lower heat, salt and pepper to taste, and simmer over very low heat for 30 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Beat two eggs thoroughly with 2 tablespoons lemon juice. Turn heat up to high and bring soup back to a boil. Add egg mixture to soup, and stir thoroughly. Lower heat and simmer for about 5 minutes. Garnish with chopped parsley. Serve immediately with fresh bread and butter.

It's difficult to describe the taste of this soup, but I think you will enjoy it.

Enjoy!!