Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Picking Up Where I Left Off Repeating Myself Again
So, after the family from Detroit moved into the neighbourhood, the parents introducing swinging (and I don't mean dancing, this time), I learned that talking about my friends, who others had labeled with the 'n' word because of their skin colour, tended to get me beaten up by the white guys (pretty much just the front line for our successful junior high school football team, it seems to me in retrospect).
Silence was my best friend throughout junior high and high school.
So, when college came along, I was able to get back with people of any size, shape, belief and colour, without fear of physical harm.
As I mentioned in a long-ago blog entry, the college foursome that when to Fort Myers for spring break caused a stir.
And later, when I finally moved up to supervisor, my first employee happened to have dark skin and which adults now call African-American.
At last, I was free of the negative thoughts that hung over my head for much of my childhood.
I was luckier than many. My parents provided a home that was free of racial bias. I watched Bill Cosby on television and listened to Richard Pryor on LP records. But also watched Andy Griffith on TV and listened to him on LP record. Cheech and Chong on 45 RPM record (and later, 8-track tape). Varieties of people on PBS (television) and NPR (radio).
My life has been easy but listening to the perpetuation of negative stereotypes has not been easy.
Turn the other cheek is easier said than done but it provides resistance of another sort.
That's why I support many of the uprisings going on right now around the world because peaceful resistance wins in the long run, although it is painful to bear, including the restructuring of school districts to eliminate, as best we can, racial inequality that still exists today.
Defending oneself is different than fighting for freedom.
We are a very young species and keep learning what works better and better.
Those of us who are here to talk about it are the ones who set the example for ourselves and future generations.
Gandhi and MLKJ may have been rabblerousers of a sort, but they represented a voice that needed and wanted to be heard, just as the people of the American continent wanted to be heard but were ignored by ol' King George and British Parliament in the 1700s (they should have learned that lesson before the Indian subcontinent uprising dozens of years later, huh?).
Our species has thousands of years of cyclical changes ahead of us. Let's set good examples now, or as many as we can, knowing that people will do what they have to do to feed their families, despite negative consequences for the species on the local/global scale.
Silence was my best friend throughout junior high and high school.
So, when college came along, I was able to get back with people of any size, shape, belief and colour, without fear of physical harm.
As I mentioned in a long-ago blog entry, the college foursome that when to Fort Myers for spring break caused a stir.
And later, when I finally moved up to supervisor, my first employee happened to have dark skin and which adults now call African-American.
At last, I was free of the negative thoughts that hung over my head for much of my childhood.
I was luckier than many. My parents provided a home that was free of racial bias. I watched Bill Cosby on television and listened to Richard Pryor on LP records. But also watched Andy Griffith on TV and listened to him on LP record. Cheech and Chong on 45 RPM record (and later, 8-track tape). Varieties of people on PBS (television) and NPR (radio).
My life has been easy but listening to the perpetuation of negative stereotypes has not been easy.
Turn the other cheek is easier said than done but it provides resistance of another sort.
That's why I support many of the uprisings going on right now around the world because peaceful resistance wins in the long run, although it is painful to bear, including the restructuring of school districts to eliminate, as best we can, racial inequality that still exists today.
Defending oneself is different than fighting for freedom.
We are a very young species and keep learning what works better and better.
Those of us who are here to talk about it are the ones who set the example for ourselves and future generations.
Gandhi and MLKJ may have been rabblerousers of a sort, but they represented a voice that needed and wanted to be heard, just as the people of the American continent wanted to be heard but were ignored by ol' King George and British Parliament in the 1700s (they should have learned that lesson before the Indian subcontinent uprising dozens of years later, huh?).
Our species has thousands of years of cyclical changes ahead of us. Let's set good examples now, or as many as we can, knowing that people will do what they have to do to feed their families, despite negative consequences for the species on the local/global scale.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
A Shoutout
Congrats to my niece, Maggie, who won an essay contest to hear a globetrotting journalist's speech. Her life is forever changed.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Personal info under consideration
Naval record of the man I knew as my grandfather (nonbiological):
[note to self - these entries need correction, per email input from mon père on 22nd Feb 2011]
Lee Bruce Hill -- 1911-1978
Born Red House (Joppa), Grainger County, TN, 27 Jan 1911
Died Valrico, Hillsborough, FL 33595 (a/k/a Venice, Sarasota County, FL), Apr 1978
Completed 9th Grade, Central High School, Knox County, Fountain City (Knoxville), TN, 1926.
Moved to Kansas in 1926. Drove moving van until enlisting in the US NAVY, 1929.
Sub Chaser
SC 516
SC-497 Class
Casa Grande (LSD-13) was launched 11 April 1944 by Newport News Shipbuilding and Drydock Co., Newport News, Va.; sponsored by Mrs. G. Delapalme, and commissioned 5 June 1944, Lieutenant Commander F. E. Strumm, USNR, in command.
Sailing from Hampton Roads 19 July 1944, Casa Grande was delayed at Balboa, C.Z. for repairs en route to Pea. l Harbor, where she arrived 21 August. Here she offloaded landing craft brought from the east coast and loaded men and equipment for the invasion of Yap. However, upon her arrival at Eniwetok 25 September she was ordered to Manus to prepare for the Leyte operation. Assigned to the Southern Attack Force, she entered Leyte Gulf uneventfully, and took part in the initial assault on 20 October. Her men worked at fever pace under enemy air attack as they launched their landing craft and serviced other small craft engaged in this triumphant return to the Philippines, and on 22 October, she withdrew for Hollandia. During the next month, she made two voyages from New Guinea to Leyte, ferrying reinforcements, and evacuating casualties.
December 1944 found Casa Grande preparing for the second of the massive operations in the Philippines, and on 31 December she sailed in TF 79's Attack Group "Baker" for Lingayen Gulf. First enemy contact came at sunset on 8 January 1945, as a small but determined group of kamikazes attacked. One of these broke through to damage Kitkun Bay (CVE-71) severely, but Casa Grande came through unscathed, and joined in driving away the scattered individual enemy aircraft which pushed the attack onward.
Although sporadic attacks by Japanese aircraft and small ships tried to disrupt the landings, the long months of detailed planning bore fruit as Casa Grande and the others of her group carried out their landing assignments smoothly on 9 January 1945. She continued to operate in support of the invasion, plying between Lingayen, Leyte, and Morotai until 30 January. Casa Grande next cruised among the Solomons to load Marines, landing craft, and tanks for the invasion of Okinawa. She took departure from Ulithi 26 March, and arrived off Okinawa at dawn of 1 April. Landing equipment and troops under the first of the kamikaze attacks which were to bathe the Okinawan operation in blood, she moved to Kerama Retto 4 April to operate a small boat repair shop there until 3 June, when she sailed for a minor overhaul at Leyte.
Through July 1945, Casa Grande sailed between ports of the South Pacific and Philippines transporting men and landing craft, and on 23 July she sailed for drydocking at San Francisco.
Between 12 September 1945, when she returned to Honolulu, and 20 April 1946, when she docked at San Francisco, Casa Grande supported occupation and redeployment operations in the western Pacific. She ferried landing craft and motor torpedo boat squadrons, calling at ports in the South Pacific, China, Japan, Korea, Okinawa, the Philippines. and Alaska. On 14 May 1946; she left San Francisco for Norfolk, Va. where she was decommissioned and placed in reserve 23 October 1946.
Dad was aboard for both commissioning (5 Jun 1944) and decommissioning (23 Oct 1946)
In 1956, the Oglethorpe was dispatched on a "classified" mission to the Mediterranean as an experimental "maritime Pre-positioned Shop" for rapid deployment. Partly modified, she carried ammunition, fuel, guns, vehicles and supplies and cruised the Mediterranean independently for 5 months under the direct operational control of CNO. Her ultimate destination was to land on the Island of Cyprus, combat load her cargo to support elements of the 82nd Airborne out of Europe.
In July 1958, the Oglethorpe was part of the fleet that transported the Marines to Lebanon.
(See attached file: Hill, Lee Bruce CHBOSN 1950's.gif)
1958 Norfolk, VA
Retired from U.S. Navy after 29 years active service. In his career, he was successively promoted from Seaman Apprentice (Recruit) to Chief Warrant Officer. He was promoted to CPO (Chief Petty Officer) in ~11 years (1929-1940), an unusually short time for those promotions "between the wars". ============================================================================
During his career, he served in the Pacific Ocean, the Atlantic, the Caribbean Sea, the Mediterranean Sea, the Indian Ocean, the China Sea,the Red Sea and others.
He served in two wars, WWII and the Korean "Conflict", as well as the Suez Crisis of 1956 and the Lebanon Crisis of 1958.
He was stationed aboard the USS Maryland in Pearl Harbor, T.H., as early as 1932, when he saw the disguised "high-powered Japanese fishing boats...." (aka "spy boats") *. A scant 9 years later was 7 Dec 1941, the "day that shall live in infamy....FDR". Thankfully, he had been transferred off the USS Maryland in 1940.
* Conversation, LB Hill, with RL Hill.
[note to self - these entries need correction, per email input from mon père on 22nd Feb 2011]
Lee Bruce Hill -- 1911-1978
Born Red House (Joppa), Grainger County, TN, 27 Jan 1911
Died Valrico, Hillsborough, FL 33595 (a/k/a Venice, Sarasota County, FL), Apr 1978
Completed 9th Grade, Central High School, Knox County, Fountain City (Knoxville), TN, 1926.
Moved to Kansas in 1926. Drove moving van until enlisting in the US NAVY, 1929.
Lee Bruce Hill...from Seaman to CPO (Chief Petty Officer);
his US Naval service for the period 1929-1940
his US Naval service for the period 1929-1940
BB-46 USS Maryland
- Colorado class battleship:
- Displacement: 32,600 tons (normal) / 34,946 (full load)
- Length: 624'
- Beam: 108'1"-114'
- Draft: 33'7"-34'8"
- Speed: 21 knots
- Armament: 4x2 16"/45, 8x2 5"/38, 11x4 40mm, 1x4 20mm, 29x2 20mm, 2 21" tt; 3 planes
- Complement: 2100
- Propulsion: Turbo-electric, 8 285 psi boilers, 4 shafts, 28,900 hp
- Built at Newport News and commissioned 21 July 1921
- Modernized at Puget Sound Navy Yard 30 Dec 41-26 Feb 42
Lee Bruce Hill...from CPO to CWO (Chief Warrant Officer);
his US Naval service during WWII
his US Naval service during WWII
Sub Chaser
SC 516
SC-497 Class
- Displacement: 98 tons
- Length: 110'10"
- Beam: 17'
- Draft: 6'6"
- Speed: 20 knots
- Armament: 1 3"/50, 2x2 .50-cal. mg
- Complement: 2 officers, 20 enlisted
- Diesel engines, twin screws 1,200 shaft hp
Dad served aboard SC 516 during the period 1942-1944. He held the rank of Chief Bosatswain's Mate (Chief Petty Officer). Since there were only two commissioned officers, he was third officer. The assigned area was the Caribbean, chasing German subs, until late 1942. The craft was then deployed across the Atlantic to Fedala, Morocco, arriving there 2 weeks after the beginning of Operation Torch (Nov. 1942).
SC 516 was used as protecting craft for the larger ships, and was eventually turned over to the Free French via Lend-Lease.
Dad's personnel record shows he was a plank owner and de-commissioning crew member.
Attached is photo of Lee B. Hill, BMC, Bos'n and 3d officer, SC 516, Miami, FL, October 1942.(See attached file: HILL, Lee Bruce BMC (Gold Stripe) Oct 1942.GIF)(See attached file: Hill,Lee Bruce BMC Oct42 Trinidad,BWI.gif)
Following service on SC 516, Dad returned to the USA and received his promotion to Warrant Officer by order of President F.D. Roosevelt. He was then assigned to the USS Casa Grande, then under construction:
LSD-13 USS Casa Grande
SC 516 was used as protecting craft for the larger ships, and was eventually turned over to the Free French via Lend-Lease.
Dad's personnel record shows he was a plank owner and de-commissioning crew member.
Attached is photo of Lee B. Hill, BMC, Bos'n and 3d officer, SC 516, Miami, FL, October 1942.(See attached file: HILL, Lee Bruce BMC (Gold Stripe) Oct 1942.GIF)(See attached file: Hill,Lee Bruce BMC Oct42 Trinidad,BWI.gif)
Following service on SC 516, Dad returned to the USA and received his promotion to Warrant Officer by order of President F.D. Roosevelt. He was then assigned to the USS Casa Grande, then under construction:
LSD-13 USS Casa Grande
- CasaGrande class Dock Landing Ship:
- Displacement: 4,032 tons (light), 7,930 (full)
- Length: 457''9"
- Beam: 72'
- Draft: 8'3" forward, 10'1" aft (light); 15'6" aft, 16'2" aft (loaded)
- Speed: 17 knots max, 15 knots cruising
- Armament: 1 5"/38 DP, 2x2 40mm, 2x4 40mm, 16 20mm
- Complement: 17 officers, 237 enlisted
- Capacity: 92 LVT, 108 DUKW
- Steam turbine engines, twin screws
- Built at Newport News and commissioned 5 June 1944
Casa Grande (LSD-13) was launched 11 April 1944 by Newport News Shipbuilding and Drydock Co., Newport News, Va.; sponsored by Mrs. G. Delapalme, and commissioned 5 June 1944, Lieutenant Commander F. E. Strumm, USNR, in command.
Sailing from Hampton Roads 19 July 1944, Casa Grande was delayed at Balboa, C.Z. for repairs en route to Pea. l Harbor, where she arrived 21 August. Here she offloaded landing craft brought from the east coast and loaded men and equipment for the invasion of Yap. However, upon her arrival at Eniwetok 25 September she was ordered to Manus to prepare for the Leyte operation. Assigned to the Southern Attack Force, she entered Leyte Gulf uneventfully, and took part in the initial assault on 20 October. Her men worked at fever pace under enemy air attack as they launched their landing craft and serviced other small craft engaged in this triumphant return to the Philippines, and on 22 October, she withdrew for Hollandia. During the next month, she made two voyages from New Guinea to Leyte, ferrying reinforcements, and evacuating casualties.
December 1944 found Casa Grande preparing for the second of the massive operations in the Philippines, and on 31 December she sailed in TF 79's Attack Group "Baker" for Lingayen Gulf. First enemy contact came at sunset on 8 January 1945, as a small but determined group of kamikazes attacked. One of these broke through to damage Kitkun Bay (CVE-71) severely, but Casa Grande came through unscathed, and joined in driving away the scattered individual enemy aircraft which pushed the attack onward.
Although sporadic attacks by Japanese aircraft and small ships tried to disrupt the landings, the long months of detailed planning bore fruit as Casa Grande and the others of her group carried out their landing assignments smoothly on 9 January 1945. She continued to operate in support of the invasion, plying between Lingayen, Leyte, and Morotai until 30 January. Casa Grande next cruised among the Solomons to load Marines, landing craft, and tanks for the invasion of Okinawa. She took departure from Ulithi 26 March, and arrived off Okinawa at dawn of 1 April. Landing equipment and troops under the first of the kamikaze attacks which were to bathe the Okinawan operation in blood, she moved to Kerama Retto 4 April to operate a small boat repair shop there until 3 June, when she sailed for a minor overhaul at Leyte.
Through July 1945, Casa Grande sailed between ports of the South Pacific and Philippines transporting men and landing craft, and on 23 July she sailed for drydocking at San Francisco.
Between 12 September 1945, when she returned to Honolulu, and 20 April 1946, when she docked at San Francisco, Casa Grande supported occupation and redeployment operations in the western Pacific. She ferried landing craft and motor torpedo boat squadrons, calling at ports in the South Pacific, China, Japan, Korea, Okinawa, the Philippines. and Alaska. On 14 May 1946; she left San Francisco for Norfolk, Va. where she was decommissioned and placed in reserve 23 October 1946.
Dad was aboard for both commissioning (5 Jun 1944) and decommissioning (23 Oct 1946)
Lee Bruce Hill, CHBOSN (CWO-3) Naval career...1946-1958
1946 Norfolk, VA
Decommissioned USS Casa Grande (LSD-13). He was one of few who were both "Plank Owners" and were still assigned to the ship at its decommissioning. His wife, Thelma Eldridge Hill, was one of two officer's wives who was aboard at both ceremonies as well.
1946-1947 Solomons, MD
Was AOIC (Assistant Officer-in-Charge or XO), then OIC (Officer-in-Charge or CO) of the US Navy Base, ODC (Operational Development Center). He was the de-commissioning officer of this base. His step-son, Richard Lee Hill, was present with Lee B. Hill at the ceremony when the National Colors (US Flag) was/were hauled-down for the last time.
1947-1948 Washington, D.C.
AOIC, US Naval Facilities, Quarters "I" and "K". Quarters "I" was the domicile for the Bachelor Male Personnel assigned to the Pentagon. Quarters "K" served the same fucnction for Bachelor Male Personnel assigned to the various US Navy Facilities in Washington itself. Those who lived in these Quarters ranged in rank from Seaman through Rear Admiral.
1948-1953 Boston, MA and Newport, RI (home ports)
Ship's BOSN, USS Worcester (CL144).
The Worcester was twice (?) deployed to the Med in the period 1949-1950. While on her second deployment, she was ordered to the waters off Korea following the outbreak of the Korean Conflict. She was one of the prime bombarding ships at the Inchon Landing by Gen. McArthur's Command . In conjuction with the assignment, the Worcester set records for "most rounds fired" and "longest steaming without refueling". She was also in one other battle while assigneed to the Koean area. (More on that later).
The second campaign/battle in which the Worcester was involved was the Wonsan Landing on the east coast of Korea.
The Worcester returned from Korea by crossing the Pacific, thence to the Atlantic. In so doing , she completed a round-the-world-cruise. This was also LB Hill's only round-the-world-cruise in his 29 year Naval career. He continued to serve on the Worcester until being transferred to shore duty.
1953-1955/56 (?) Orange, TX
U.S. Naval Base
OIC, decommissioned ships*, (not his exact title, but this was his responsibility).
*This base had ships in "mothballs", which constituted a portion of the US Navy's Reserve Fleet of that era.
1956-1958 Norfolk, VA (home port)
Ship's BOSN, USS Tidewater and USS Oglethorpe, both AKA ships.
Lee Bruce Hill, CHBOSN (CWO-3), USN, was Ship's BOSN, circa 1956-58.
USS Oglethorpe
AKA 100
Ship's characteristics:
Decommissioned USS Casa Grande (LSD-13). He was one of few who were both "Plank Owners" and were still assigned to the ship at its decommissioning. His wife, Thelma Eldridge Hill, was one of two officer's wives who was aboard at both ceremonies as well.
1946-1947 Solomons, MD
Was AOIC (Assistant Officer-in-Charge or XO), then OIC (Officer-in-Charge or CO) of the US Navy Base, ODC (Operational Development Center). He was the de-commissioning officer of this base. His step-son, Richard Lee Hill, was present with Lee B. Hill at the ceremony when the National Colors (US Flag) was/were hauled-down for the last time.
1947-1948 Washington, D.C.
AOIC, US Naval Facilities, Quarters "I" and "K". Quarters "I" was the domicile for the Bachelor Male Personnel assigned to the Pentagon. Quarters "K" served the same fucnction for Bachelor Male Personnel assigned to the various US Navy Facilities in Washington itself. Those who lived in these Quarters ranged in rank from Seaman through Rear Admiral.
1948-1953 Boston, MA and Newport, RI (home ports)
Ship's BOSN, USS Worcester (CL144).
The Worcester was twice (?) deployed to the Med in the period 1949-1950. While on her second deployment, she was ordered to the waters off Korea following the outbreak of the Korean Conflict. She was one of the prime bombarding ships at the Inchon Landing by Gen. McArthur's Command . In conjuction with the assignment, the Worcester set records for "most rounds fired" and "longest steaming without refueling". She was also in one other battle while assigneed to the Koean area. (More on that later).
The second campaign/battle in which the Worcester was involved was the Wonsan Landing on the east coast of Korea.
The Worcester returned from Korea by crossing the Pacific, thence to the Atlantic. In so doing , she completed a round-the-world-cruise. This was also LB Hill's only round-the-world-cruise in his 29 year Naval career. He continued to serve on the Worcester until being transferred to shore duty.
1953-1955/56 (?) Orange, TX
U.S. Naval Base
OIC, decommissioned ships*, (not his exact title, but this was his responsibility).
*This base had ships in "mothballs", which constituted a portion of the US Navy's Reserve Fleet of that era.
1956-1958 Norfolk, VA (home port)
Ship's BOSN, USS Tidewater and USS Oglethorpe, both AKA ships.
Lee Bruce Hill, CHBOSN (CWO-3), USN, was Ship's BOSN, circa 1956-58.
USS Oglethorpe
AKA 100
Ship's characteristics:
- dp 14,200 tons
- 1.459',2"; b. 63'; dr. 26'4"; s. 16.5 k; cpl. 425
- a. 5" .38, 8 40 mm
- cl Andromeda
- T. C2-S-B1
In 1956, the Oglethorpe was dispatched on a "classified" mission to the Mediterranean as an experimental "maritime Pre-positioned Shop" for rapid deployment. Partly modified, she carried ammunition, fuel, guns, vehicles and supplies and cruised the Mediterranean independently for 5 months under the direct operational control of CNO. Her ultimate destination was to land on the Island of Cyprus, combat load her cargo to support elements of the 82nd Airborne out of Europe.
In July 1958, the Oglethorpe was part of the fleet that transported the Marines to Lebanon.
(See attached file: Hill, Lee Bruce CHBOSN 1950's.gif)
1958 Norfolk, VA
Retired from U.S. Navy after 29 years active service. In his career, he was successively promoted from Seaman Apprentice (Recruit) to Chief Warrant Officer. He was promoted to CPO (Chief Petty Officer) in ~11 years (1929-1940), an unusually short time for those promotions "between the wars". ============================================================================
During his career, he served in the Pacific Ocean, the Atlantic, the Caribbean Sea, the Mediterranean Sea, the Indian Ocean, the China Sea,the Red Sea and others.
He served in two wars, WWII and the Korean "Conflict", as well as the Suez Crisis of 1956 and the Lebanon Crisis of 1958.
He was stationed aboard the USS Maryland in Pearl Harbor, T.H., as early as 1932, when he saw the disguised "high-powered Japanese fishing boats...." (aka "spy boats") *. A scant 9 years later was 7 Dec 1941, the "day that shall live in infamy....FDR". Thankfully, he had been transferred off the USS Maryland in 1940.
* Conversation, LB Hill, with RL Hill.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Take A Chill Pill
While we work to ensure that a representative government can provide support for the people of Egypt (what's the point of being free to speak/assemble if you and your family starve?), I try to keep this narrative going.
Looking across a multibillion lightyear matrix to assess possible futures, I sometimes forget that anyone reading this is more concerned about what's going to happen today or tomorrow to immediate friends and family.
I also forget that you don't know which blog entries are purely fictional and which are statements/predictions about facts.
Remember, this blog serves as the billboard for announcements/adverts in a fictional universe that closely parallels ours.
As the Committee's Storyteller-In-Residence (and rotating team leader/member), I have the responsibility to both entertain and inform.
There is no demographically defined target audience. Every person in our seven-billion strong species is available for characterisation.
One blog entry may reflect the opinion of an old man who feels the world has left him behind.
One blog entry may be about an Indian family running a hotel franchise, or a man in the military traveling out-of-town, weary but alert and leary of strangers.
As temporary Committee leader, I move from place to place to MBWA (manage by walking around).
You are the input to the system. Your actions, your social connections and your life story (the narrative that appears through hindsight) give me insight into how the future is going to work out to our species' benefit.
How you choose to behave is yours to choose for yourself and your family.
I had planned a series of blog entries showing you how we break down social connections into basic building blocks that we have programmed for every type of social situation.
However, a behaviourist pointed out that we had not accurately programmed the chemical and quantum exchanges.
So, the series will have to wait.
Which means I have to talk to you about something you probably already know.
In other words, you can skip this next part.
Education.
Do you think if you can read this that you are educated?
As a specialist who holds peer-selected awards for excellence in your field of study, would you submit yourself to being placed in a maze where gaining exit before you starved or suffocated required absolute knowledge of your specialty?
Of course, your life is that maze.
Do one thing at a time and do it well.
That's what this blog is about, educating me, teaching me that knowing and telling the future is much more serious than I bargained for.
I just wanted to help my friends and family improve the return on their investments.
How was I to know that no genie goes back into a bottle?
Maybe I need to go to Central America and find that old lady's family again, ask them if they have any family lore that would ease my worries that the future is uncertain and not as predictably true as my predictions have shown with increasing accuracy.
Otherwise, there will come a time when we know so well what's going to happen next that we can intuitively jump forward past great leaps of innovation because we already have lived through them in our pinpoint future projections.
Don't stop loving your family and trusting strangers. We're all in this moment that leads to a bright future together.
Looking across a multibillion lightyear matrix to assess possible futures, I sometimes forget that anyone reading this is more concerned about what's going to happen today or tomorrow to immediate friends and family.
I also forget that you don't know which blog entries are purely fictional and which are statements/predictions about facts.
Remember, this blog serves as the billboard for announcements/adverts in a fictional universe that closely parallels ours.
As the Committee's Storyteller-In-Residence (and rotating team leader/member), I have the responsibility to both entertain and inform.
There is no demographically defined target audience. Every person in our seven-billion strong species is available for characterisation.
One blog entry may reflect the opinion of an old man who feels the world has left him behind.
One blog entry may be about an Indian family running a hotel franchise, or a man in the military traveling out-of-town, weary but alert and leary of strangers.
As temporary Committee leader, I move from place to place to MBWA (manage by walking around).
You are the input to the system. Your actions, your social connections and your life story (the narrative that appears through hindsight) give me insight into how the future is going to work out to our species' benefit.
How you choose to behave is yours to choose for yourself and your family.
I had planned a series of blog entries showing you how we break down social connections into basic building blocks that we have programmed for every type of social situation.
However, a behaviourist pointed out that we had not accurately programmed the chemical and quantum exchanges.
So, the series will have to wait.
Which means I have to talk to you about something you probably already know.
In other words, you can skip this next part.
Education.
Do you think if you can read this that you are educated?
As a specialist who holds peer-selected awards for excellence in your field of study, would you submit yourself to being placed in a maze where gaining exit before you starved or suffocated required absolute knowledge of your specialty?
Of course, your life is that maze.
Do one thing at a time and do it well.
That's what this blog is about, educating me, teaching me that knowing and telling the future is much more serious than I bargained for.
I just wanted to help my friends and family improve the return on their investments.
How was I to know that no genie goes back into a bottle?
Maybe I need to go to Central America and find that old lady's family again, ask them if they have any family lore that would ease my worries that the future is uncertain and not as predictably true as my predictions have shown with increasing accuracy.
Otherwise, there will come a time when we know so well what's going to happen next that we can intuitively jump forward past great leaps of innovation because we already have lived through them in our pinpoint future projections.
Don't stop loving your family and trusting strangers. We're all in this moment that leads to a bright future together.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Appreciation
Thanks to Myron, John and Ophelia at Salsarita's; Pilot Food Mart; the server and sushi chef at Shogun; courteous over-the-road truck drivers; Hawkins County EMS; Grainger County construction crew; the candle lighter at CHPC; people who accept one another for who they are and not adopt an attitude based on what others tell them to think they are.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Family Lore
While watching the Super Bowl with my folks, I scanned 1284 family photos for sharing electronically with the rest of the family.
While looking through plastic tubs of photos, my mother found an undated newspaper article she had saved.
Interestingly enough, it fits into today's and other recent sports events/news involving Tennessee and Michigan players:
So, here's to Peyton and Charles - may you both end up in the NFL Hall of Fame one day, and may any angry fans out there rest well knowing that both young men grew up to be memorable professional football players contributing significantly to Super Bowl winning teams.
Oh, congrats to Green Bay, by the way. My folks give a shout-out to Carroll Dale, a former neighbour of theirs, whatever he's doing these days. [Speaking of neighbours, my parents reminded me tonight that I used to be in Sunday school with Katherine Harris of hanging chad fame - many decades ago, we lived in a house her father owned in Florida - small world!]
Now, on to the lull that is the multimonth break after American rules football season. Long live rugby!
Thanks to Jason and Shelby at Office Depot, Joshua at Chili's, Glenn's Florist and Tom's sermon about salt and light - we sometimes forget the example of ourselves we set in the moment for both ourselves and those around us. And lastly, the choir and Maggie's oboe teacher's solo while playing Handel works.
While looking through plastic tubs of photos, my mother found an undated newspaper article she had saved.
Interestingly enough, it fits into today's and other recent sports events/news involving Tennessee and Michigan players:
Fowler responds
From staff reports
ESPN's Chris Fowler made himself the focus of attention on the Peyton Manning Heisman Trophy controversy by referring to the "Tennessee Trailer Park Frenzy Talk" on a national radio talk show. The following is a form letter he sent to Tennessee fans who wrote respectful letters. The letter constitutes an apology to Tennessee fans and explains Fowler's use of the phrase, which he called "a stupid remark."
For the benefit of all area readers upset by the remark, Fowler's letter to fans is being printed in full. It reads as follows [excerpts published in this blog entry]:
"Vol Fans:
"You took the time to write, so I'll take the time to respond. Because of the volume of mail, I'll have to use this form letter.
"I know most of you are mad that Peyton Manning didn't win the Heisman and plan to stay mad about it. You have a right to be disappointed, just as Peyton and his family were when the announcement was made at the Downtown Athletic Club.
"But the level of anger and hatred misdirected at ESPN, ABC, the media in general, and Charles Woodson himself has stunned me. In response to some of the profane and incoherent message and physical threats I received, I made a stupid remark on the 'Fabulous Sports Babe' radio show that week.
"I prefaced the comment by saying I was NOT referring to the typical Tennessee fans, but when I used the word 'trailer park frenzy' I offended many people I didn't intend to. The term was directed at the dozan [sic] lunatics who called or faxed with messages similar to the one I've enclosed here (unprintable).
"That type of letter was not typical of the ones I've gotten, but it represents a vocal, twisted minority.
"Nonetheless, it was very poor choice of words that made me come off like some northern snob. My grandparents lived in a trailer park for a time and I was NEVER ashamed of it in the least. By the way, I never used the expression 'trailer trash,' as some of you claimed.
...
"As for the Heisman decision, I can assure there was no TV 'conspiracy' to deny Peyton or crown Charles Woodson.
...
"To label me as a 'Woodson Fan Club President' is so offbase that it's ridiculous. I never made a statement that Woodson SHOULD win the thing. Truth be told, I voted for Manning!
...
"To assert that Woodson was 'created' by ESPN and ABC is a joke. He's a rare and special talent, leader of the nation's best defense in the regular season. I never want to be put in the position to attack Woodson's ability.
...
"Peyton Manning will recover from the disappointment of not winning this award. It was never a priority in the first place. I'm sure that standing atop a step ladder, directing the Vols' band in Rocky Top after his first SEC title was a thousand times sweeter than any award could be.
"I've known his family and Peyton himself since BEFORE he was Peyton Manning and consider his brother Cooper a friend. I've never said a negative thing about his character or value as a leader, football player, or human being. Peyton has a great future and his legacy at Tennessee is not diminished a bit because of votes cast by the majority of the Heisman electorate.
"So, hold onto your anger if you want to, but in the need to direct it AT someone, please don't misdirect it.
"Thanks for taking the time.
"Sincerely, Chris Fowler"
So, here's to Peyton and Charles - may you both end up in the NFL Hall of Fame one day, and may any angry fans out there rest well knowing that both young men grew up to be memorable professional football players contributing significantly to Super Bowl winning teams.
Oh, congrats to Green Bay, by the way. My folks give a shout-out to Carroll Dale, a former neighbour of theirs, whatever he's doing these days. [Speaking of neighbours, my parents reminded me tonight that I used to be in Sunday school with Katherine Harris of hanging chad fame - many decades ago, we lived in a house her father owned in Florida - small world!]
Now, on to the lull that is the multimonth break after American rules football season. Long live rugby!
Thanks to Jason and Shelby at Office Depot, Joshua at Chili's, Glenn's Florist and Tom's sermon about salt and light - we sometimes forget the example of ourselves we set in the moment for both ourselves and those around us. And lastly, the choir and Maggie's oboe teacher's solo while playing Handel works.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Another Close Call
Do you ever ask the people in your family, "What are you doing for me on a daily and weekly basis?"
A friend of mine did.
Now she's divorced and her son has moved out, leaving her with a house, a dog, computer and a phone.
She's the sole caretaker of her parents, after her sister died, who was 300+ pounds and her heart couldn't keep up - a great "kid" who literally died at 42 of a broken heart.
We're good friends who have no qualms about sharing our life stories with one another because we have no hangups or emotional baggage getting in the way, no reason to ask each other what we've done for the other on a daily or weekly basis.
I am secure in my marriage and secure in my emotion-based thought set so I can spend time here with you, rather than in paper journals, looking at what is and what might have been.
When I hung around in an office and dealt with business decisions on a minute-by-minute basis, I often asked myself what was the business doing for me on a daily, weekly or life basis?
Sure, it provided me an easy way to feed myself through the collection of labour credits to exchange for nourishment supplements at restaurants and grocer's markets.
It also allowed me to build my investment portfolio and enjoy "free" travel to foreign destinations while conducting business outside the office.
But what was it really doing for me?
I'm a middle-aged guy, looking at life from the comforts of a study piled high with old books and memorabilia.
It's a perspective that I held when I was six, looking out the window in first grade math class, surrounded by the nurturing world of academia which hopes more than passive learning's taking place.
So, in a sense, I have always heralded this position of sitting by the window and wondering in my wandering thoughts.
Socialising has always been a matter of reverifying my understanding of the human condition.
Humour has been my way of filtering out the dusty seriousness that floats out of people's mouths and actions, virtually turning down the volume of voices shouting, "But it really is an emergency this time," another cry of "Wolf!" that I can see doesn't exist.
Do we all tell ourselves, "This is what I do but not who I am?"
In recent conversations with my friend, picking up where we stopped talking 18 years ago, we joke about the difference between what we have done and who we think we are.
Life is a comedy, a grand illusion, where punchlines are punchlines for some joke we think we see but don't.
Meanwhile, we have to figure out how to raise our kids and get along while pretending we're serious most or part of the time.
The parents who can reveal the jokes while instilling a solid set of ethics and morals are the ones I praise.
We all die.
We all have to share resources while we're alive.
Everything else is just pretending.
I'm sorry that the people in North Africa are resorting to deadly violence to sort out how to redistribute resources that have been hoarded by a few. Unfortunately, it is the way of our species - we are young and unable to see the bigger picture.
Nor do we see where those with a large number of social connections can drop millions of pebbles all across the pond and hide their intentions in the cancelling wave patterns.
I will not be remembered. This writing is not significant enough to survive the ravages of population shifts.
Thus, at the end of the day, I have my wife, our cats, our house, our investments, her friends, my friends and our friends and family.
Right before I asked my wife for her hand in marriage, I asked myself if she was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.
I narrowed down the mental list of potential candidates, looking back at the women I'd dated or with whom I had established a strong, lasting relationship.
I knew who I was and what I wanted.
I also knew that I probably knew little about the women and what they wanted.
Why do people get married? To raise children in a legal manner. To honour their religious upbringing. For tax savings. To make themselves (or one of them) a legal resident of a political entity, perhaps.
Why did I get married? Because it was time. I held a postsecondary diploma and was ready to establish myself financially. Having children was not a priority for me. Sitting by the window thinking and writing was/is.
Thus, which woman would most tolerate my desire to sit and write? Which woman would tell herself, "Rick is not the kind of person who will take the kids to school, play handyman, chair the parent-teacher association or do more than a cursory amount of housecleaning but hopefully will earn enough for us to have a comfortable, if not extravagant, life together"?
I narrowed my choices down to two people - my wife, of course, and the person with whom I have enjoyed conversations over the past few days.
My wife and I shared a romantic story that had/has a life of its own, one I've recounted here or elsewhere many times, starting when we were 12 at summer camp, acting as penpals for years and dating the first time our freshman year in college, with my "romantic, lovesick poet" phase generating many a poem we've all written in our heads in one way or another when first falling madly in love (and which I've spared tormenting you with here (at least so far (just wait until I get too bored to write a blog entry one day))).
The other person was/is a person many people enjoy being around. We never had overly romantic notions about each other, although we can describe them and imagine them, such as enjoying a quiet walk in the woods or along the beach, holding hands like two companions.
We agree we have made the best choices. She has her wonderful son and a life of her own, including an early retirement. I have a wonderful wife and have taken a midlife retirement. As a bonus, we remain great friends without a worry about one or the other having any ulteriour sexual intentions, so we can talk about anything without wondering about arousing the other's hormones.
All the while, large historic changes of our species go on around us, no matter how much we care or feel involved, emotionally or physically.
This is my life, sitting here, looking out the window at the rain, water dripping off the hanging gutter, no birds to be seen, creating an alternative universe while musing about the one that we say exists, because we can touch trees and watch one another's births and deaths and all the stuff in-between.
This is how I describe happiness. I thank all of you, including my close friends and family, for making this happiness possible. I hope every one of us can find this kind of simple happiness in our lives - it's priceless.
A friend of mine did.
Now she's divorced and her son has moved out, leaving her with a house, a dog, computer and a phone.
She's the sole caretaker of her parents, after her sister died, who was 300+ pounds and her heart couldn't keep up - a great "kid" who literally died at 42 of a broken heart.
We're good friends who have no qualms about sharing our life stories with one another because we have no hangups or emotional baggage getting in the way, no reason to ask each other what we've done for the other on a daily or weekly basis.
I am secure in my marriage and secure in my emotion-based thought set so I can spend time here with you, rather than in paper journals, looking at what is and what might have been.
When I hung around in an office and dealt with business decisions on a minute-by-minute basis, I often asked myself what was the business doing for me on a daily, weekly or life basis?
Sure, it provided me an easy way to feed myself through the collection of labour credits to exchange for nourishment supplements at restaurants and grocer's markets.
It also allowed me to build my investment portfolio and enjoy "free" travel to foreign destinations while conducting business outside the office.
But what was it really doing for me?
I'm a middle-aged guy, looking at life from the comforts of a study piled high with old books and memorabilia.
It's a perspective that I held when I was six, looking out the window in first grade math class, surrounded by the nurturing world of academia which hopes more than passive learning's taking place.
So, in a sense, I have always heralded this position of sitting by the window and wondering in my wandering thoughts.
Socialising has always been a matter of reverifying my understanding of the human condition.
Humour has been my way of filtering out the dusty seriousness that floats out of people's mouths and actions, virtually turning down the volume of voices shouting, "But it really is an emergency this time," another cry of "Wolf!" that I can see doesn't exist.
Do we all tell ourselves, "This is what I do but not who I am?"
In recent conversations with my friend, picking up where we stopped talking 18 years ago, we joke about the difference between what we have done and who we think we are.
Life is a comedy, a grand illusion, where punchlines are punchlines for some joke we think we see but don't.
Meanwhile, we have to figure out how to raise our kids and get along while pretending we're serious most or part of the time.
The parents who can reveal the jokes while instilling a solid set of ethics and morals are the ones I praise.
We all die.
We all have to share resources while we're alive.
Everything else is just pretending.
I'm sorry that the people in North Africa are resorting to deadly violence to sort out how to redistribute resources that have been hoarded by a few. Unfortunately, it is the way of our species - we are young and unable to see the bigger picture.
Nor do we see where those with a large number of social connections can drop millions of pebbles all across the pond and hide their intentions in the cancelling wave patterns.
I will not be remembered. This writing is not significant enough to survive the ravages of population shifts.
Thus, at the end of the day, I have my wife, our cats, our house, our investments, her friends, my friends and our friends and family.
Right before I asked my wife for her hand in marriage, I asked myself if she was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.
I narrowed down the mental list of potential candidates, looking back at the women I'd dated or with whom I had established a strong, lasting relationship.
I knew who I was and what I wanted.
I also knew that I probably knew little about the women and what they wanted.
Why do people get married? To raise children in a legal manner. To honour their religious upbringing. For tax savings. To make themselves (or one of them) a legal resident of a political entity, perhaps.
Why did I get married? Because it was time. I held a postsecondary diploma and was ready to establish myself financially. Having children was not a priority for me. Sitting by the window thinking and writing was/is.
Thus, which woman would most tolerate my desire to sit and write? Which woman would tell herself, "Rick is not the kind of person who will take the kids to school, play handyman, chair the parent-teacher association or do more than a cursory amount of housecleaning but hopefully will earn enough for us to have a comfortable, if not extravagant, life together"?
I narrowed my choices down to two people - my wife, of course, and the person with whom I have enjoyed conversations over the past few days.
My wife and I shared a romantic story that had/has a life of its own, one I've recounted here or elsewhere many times, starting when we were 12 at summer camp, acting as penpals for years and dating the first time our freshman year in college, with my "romantic, lovesick poet" phase generating many a poem we've all written in our heads in one way or another when first falling madly in love (and which I've spared tormenting you with here (at least so far (just wait until I get too bored to write a blog entry one day))).
The other person was/is a person many people enjoy being around. We never had overly romantic notions about each other, although we can describe them and imagine them, such as enjoying a quiet walk in the woods or along the beach, holding hands like two companions.
We agree we have made the best choices. She has her wonderful son and a life of her own, including an early retirement. I have a wonderful wife and have taken a midlife retirement. As a bonus, we remain great friends without a worry about one or the other having any ulteriour sexual intentions, so we can talk about anything without wondering about arousing the other's hormones.
All the while, large historic changes of our species go on around us, no matter how much we care or feel involved, emotionally or physically.
This is my life, sitting here, looking out the window at the rain, water dripping off the hanging gutter, no birds to be seen, creating an alternative universe while musing about the one that we say exists, because we can touch trees and watch one another's births and deaths and all the stuff in-between.
This is how I describe happiness. I thank all of you, including my close friends and family, for making this happiness possible. I hope every one of us can find this kind of simple happiness in our lives - it's priceless.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
A New Nod to Dmitri N. Smirnov, An Old Nod to Margery McDuffie Whatley
In the past year or so, I have talked with many people who shared a specific timeframe with me.
And yet, if time does not exist, then what to make of musical scores?
What to make of past relationships that stopped but never ended?
What of the 48-year old woman with whom I shared our first kiss at 9?
Or the 49-year old woman with whom I continue to share my thoughts as if we live outside time, 18-year loops of silence between us notwithstanding?
Or the 48-year old woman who remembers our relationship at 15/16 as if it happened yesterday, repeating our relationship and breakup in emails turned into a storyline that merged into a novel just as her daughter passed through the 15/16 ageline?
These circles, so close to home, remind me of works by Smirnov and their descent/ascent keeping time.
The music in my head plays here in spaces, pauses, syllables and other symbolism familiar to you, but it is not the same as hearing it in real time.
Would your unmarried son look at a job application and interpret "marital status" as if it read "martial status"? Does that speak volumes about looking at marriage like war?
This is the 34th day of 2011 and I have a lot to work through in the remaining revolutions of our planet upon its axis in this calendar year before it reaches its arbitrary starting place which begins 2012.
Do you know which pebbles' waves are affecting you right now?
Are you comfortably positioned in your set of beliefs?
How much do you let your social connections reposition the perceived centre of the core of your being?
If you could see the full set of actions available to you on this planet, then what would you want to do next?
I want to read a book but I don't know which author I want to influence my thought set.
I want to take a walk but I'm tired of seeing the same rooftops and neatly trimmed lawns passing by my view.
If freedom is whatever I want to do on this planet, what if it's not enough? Too much? Too little, too late?
Only one life to live, one narrative to attempt to fabricate, one set of moments to imagine calling my own.
Life is a jazz improv jam.
My part in it is what it is.
I'll just have to live with the fact that the music in my head has no instrument(s) that'll make it sound right to everyone who listens.
Practice makes the next practice more perfect - the perfect story has never been told because it requires knowing the music in everyone's thoughts, virtually impossible, at least at this time.
Approximation is the best we can do, cutting the distance to perfection another half-step closer.
If I can't have the whole thing, will half of a half of a half of a half of a half suffice?
Three more points: census data, space stasis, education status.
Thanks to Margery McDuffie Whatley's recorded performance for accompanying this blog entry.
And yet, if time does not exist, then what to make of musical scores?
What to make of past relationships that stopped but never ended?
What of the 48-year old woman with whom I shared our first kiss at 9?
Or the 49-year old woman with whom I continue to share my thoughts as if we live outside time, 18-year loops of silence between us notwithstanding?
Or the 48-year old woman who remembers our relationship at 15/16 as if it happened yesterday, repeating our relationship and breakup in emails turned into a storyline that merged into a novel just as her daughter passed through the 15/16 ageline?
These circles, so close to home, remind me of works by Smirnov and their descent/ascent keeping time.
The music in my head plays here in spaces, pauses, syllables and other symbolism familiar to you, but it is not the same as hearing it in real time.
Would your unmarried son look at a job application and interpret "marital status" as if it read "martial status"? Does that speak volumes about looking at marriage like war?
This is the 34th day of 2011 and I have a lot to work through in the remaining revolutions of our planet upon its axis in this calendar year before it reaches its arbitrary starting place which begins 2012.
Do you know which pebbles' waves are affecting you right now?
Are you comfortably positioned in your set of beliefs?
How much do you let your social connections reposition the perceived centre of the core of your being?
If you could see the full set of actions available to you on this planet, then what would you want to do next?
I want to read a book but I don't know which author I want to influence my thought set.
I want to take a walk but I'm tired of seeing the same rooftops and neatly trimmed lawns passing by my view.
If freedom is whatever I want to do on this planet, what if it's not enough? Too much? Too little, too late?
Only one life to live, one narrative to attempt to fabricate, one set of moments to imagine calling my own.
Life is a jazz improv jam.
My part in it is what it is.
I'll just have to live with the fact that the music in my head has no instrument(s) that'll make it sound right to everyone who listens.
Practice makes the next practice more perfect - the perfect story has never been told because it requires knowing the music in everyone's thoughts, virtually impossible, at least at this time.
Approximation is the best we can do, cutting the distance to perfection another half-step closer.
If I can't have the whole thing, will half of a half of a half of a half of a half suffice?
Three more points: census data, space stasis, education status.
Thanks to Margery McDuffie Whatley's recorded performance for accompanying this blog entry.
Two notes from a friend in need
> Wednesday, Feb. 2, 2011
> Dear Friends
> "Into each life some rain must fall" -- If I remember correctly, the second line of that old song was "But too much has fallen in mine." But until 5 days ago that was not really true in my case. My doctor had just recently given me, at the age of 77, a clean bill of health, and remarked on how "benign" my medical history had been. I could only agree that "yes, I have been very lucky."
> 6 days ago, my luck finally ran out.
>
> Although I still have no memory of the incident, so violently did it occur, while taking one of my usual early morning walks in Santa Barbara, I was struck by a car while crossing a street in a residential neighborhood not far from my home. Although the police have all the relevant information -- it was not a hit and run -- details about the driver, who was, I believe, young, the vehicle, and the. exact place and time of the accident, have not yet been made available to me. Nor, so far as I know, has anybody involved in it yet attempted to get in touch with me.
>
> Most of what I have to tell you so far will be distinctly downbeat -- so let me at least preface that by saying that, although badly banged up, it appears I have good chances of a full recovery within a few months.
>
> All the best
> Ashleigh Brilliant
>
>
> Please reply to: ashleigh@west.net
>
> Ashleigh Brilliant
> 117 W. Valerio St.,
> Santa Barbara CA 93101 USA
> (805) 682 0531
> www.ashleighbrilliant.com
>
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
ASHLEIGH BRILLIANT, 117 W. Valerio St. Santa Barbara CA 93101 USA. Phone (805) 682-0531 Orders:(800) 952-3879, Code #77. Creator of POT-SHOTS, syndicated author of I MAY NOT BE TOTALLY PERFECT, BUT PARTS OF ME ARE EXCELLENT. 10,000 copyrighted BRILLIANT THOUGHTS available as cards, books etc.World's highest-paid writer (per word). Most-quoted author (per Reader's Digest.) Free daily Pot-Shot cartoon: www.ashleighbrilliant.com CATALOGS:[h&m included]. Starter $2. Complete Printed version: $25 Electronic Text-Only (emailed $25, on CD $30). Electronic Illustrated Catalog/Database (CD only) $105 (includes shipping anywhere). Details: www.ashleighbrilliant.com/IllustratedCatalog.html
> Thur Feb 3 2011
> Dear Friends,
> Forgive me for imposing these thoughts on you, but if my accident of a week ago had killed me outright instead of just leaving me a mangled wreck, it would probably have been better for everybody -- but certainly for me.
>
> I am currently a patient in the Mission Terrace Convalescent Hospital, having been moved here 2 days ago after 5 days in Cottage Hospital (both in Santa Barbara).
>
> I LOOK terrible, and feel worse than I look. My face is a gory Halloween mask. My mobility is extremely limited. I have been constipated and suffering much insomnia for several days. My appetite is negligible. But those are the worst things, and I must admit that there are also many hopeful and encouraging signs.
>
> For one thing, I am urinating OK on my own, even though my Urologist had been threatening to put me back on a catheter, despite the fact that I feared and fought this, because of a previous experience with catheter-caused infection.
>
> For another thing, it cannot be denied that there are a lot of good kind people
> out there, who really want to help. You know who they are, and you yourself may actually be one of them.
> Of course, the most remarkable are those who devote themselves to people in situations like mine -- especially the workers who are willing to deal with the revolting details of physical functions which have gone out of control.
>
> Then there are the friends and visitors --and particularly my wife Dorothy, struggling at 79 to deal with her own problems of scoliosis and spasmodic dysphonia -- and our long-time helper Peggy Sue Lemkuil, whose own mother is currently in hospital with knee surgery.
>
> Then, although modern medicine doesn't have all the answers, it can alleviate
> pain and provide sleep in dramatic ways.
>
> So, since we must still be here on earth a while longer, let me share with you the most positive reaction I've had to this experience so far: The automobile accident, which includes, as in my present case, pedestrians being struck by cars, has always been to me one of the most significant aspects of American social history, and particularly associated with Southern California, which is where the Mass Automobile Culture first emerged anywhere in the world, in the decade of the 1920's. Forty decades later, when in my own twenties, and newly arrived as a graduate student from England, I chose to make the Automobile the subject of my own Berkeley PhD in American History. The result eventually became my book, THE GREAT CAR CRAZE: HOW SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA COLLIDED WITH THE AUTOMOBILE IN THE 1920's. And it had a whole chapter devoted to what I called "The New Terror." Not long ago I had a chance to write a review of a new history of the automobile in California, (in the Journal Of The California Historical Society) in which I took advantage of the opportunity to quote just one sentence from my own work: "This reviewer's one appearance in the text hereby happily acknowledged--is my observation, concerning the streets of Los Angeles in the 1920s, that
> 'Never before in human history, except in time of war, had so many people been exposed in the course of their daily lives to the risk of violent death.' "
>
> All the best
> Ashleigh Brilliant
>
> P.S. You can buy my book "The Great Car Craze" -- and thereby (dare I suggest it?) express some solidarity with me in this ordeal -- on my website at www.ashleighbrilliant.com
> The price is $25, Including U.S. Shipping, or $30 which includes shipping anywhere else.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
The Art and Science of Business
While listening to the Orgelbüchlein, performed by James Kibbie, and putting together a business plan for some associates, I look at The Wisdom of India by Lin Yutang and contemplate buying As One by Merhdad Baghai and James Quigley.
I think about Walt Disney and the extension of copyrights/trademarks that are granted to enduring brands.
The shiny surface of my laptop computer is dull where my palms rest. The most commonly pressed keys look slick from many thousands of clicks (the Q, Z, X, J and P keys are the least rubbed smooth, with W, U and K not far behind).
Playing this parallel universe of a blog like a symphony, hearing the voices of people and cultures like the sweet tweets and deep bellows of musical instruments, repeating phrases for emphasis, looking for the perfectly new but hauntingly familiar melody to pull out of nothingness, wanting to get this right the first time because there's no going back but knowing I make a few typos through my rush to get it all down on e-paper before I forget what I hear in my head...
I wrote a two-part poem decades ago that compared the difference between a schizophrenic and a writer, saying that a writer puts the compartmentalisation of thoughts that have a particular "voice" (i.e., characters) to practical use, or something like that. Composers are the same or similar.
But so, too, are any of us who design, build, lead or otherwise use the extension of a thought set to create something unique outside of ourselves.
Parents, what of your children?
Where do we concentrate our energy expenditure?
Does it matter if anyone is listening to you?
Is the analysis of the work of another a work in its own right?
If I design a business plan that I'll never use and submit it to another person as one of many proposals for creating something wonderful, am I participating in the art and science of business even if my work never sees the light of day?
How often do we have to practice to perfect our skills and sharpen our talents?
Every moment is practice for the next one.
One person recently asked why I never seem to mention the Bible (a frequent observation by readers). I don't mention specifics about my wife, either, but they're both an integral part of my childhood so that I feel no need to promote or talk about the core/foundational part of myself. Wisdom imparted to me by sages, scholars and committees through the ages (i.e., the Bible) is just as important as wisdom imparted to me by my wife in the moments we share together. I don't understand much about the Bible and I don't understand much about my wife but I accept them both as they are as I practice learning more about them and the rest of the stimuli that serves as my life in every moment.
I think about Walt Disney and the extension of copyrights/trademarks that are granted to enduring brands.
The shiny surface of my laptop computer is dull where my palms rest. The most commonly pressed keys look slick from many thousands of clicks (the Q, Z, X, J and P keys are the least rubbed smooth, with W, U and K not far behind).
Playing this parallel universe of a blog like a symphony, hearing the voices of people and cultures like the sweet tweets and deep bellows of musical instruments, repeating phrases for emphasis, looking for the perfectly new but hauntingly familiar melody to pull out of nothingness, wanting to get this right the first time because there's no going back but knowing I make a few typos through my rush to get it all down on e-paper before I forget what I hear in my head...
I wrote a two-part poem decades ago that compared the difference between a schizophrenic and a writer, saying that a writer puts the compartmentalisation of thoughts that have a particular "voice" (i.e., characters) to practical use, or something like that. Composers are the same or similar.
But so, too, are any of us who design, build, lead or otherwise use the extension of a thought set to create something unique outside of ourselves.
Parents, what of your children?
Where do we concentrate our energy expenditure?
Does it matter if anyone is listening to you?
Is the analysis of the work of another a work in its own right?
If I design a business plan that I'll never use and submit it to another person as one of many proposals for creating something wonderful, am I participating in the art and science of business even if my work never sees the light of day?
How often do we have to practice to perfect our skills and sharpen our talents?
Every moment is practice for the next one.
One person recently asked why I never seem to mention the Bible (a frequent observation by readers). I don't mention specifics about my wife, either, but they're both an integral part of my childhood so that I feel no need to promote or talk about the core/foundational part of myself. Wisdom imparted to me by sages, scholars and committees through the ages (i.e., the Bible) is just as important as wisdom imparted to me by my wife in the moments we share together. I don't understand much about the Bible and I don't understand much about my wife but I accept them both as they are as I practice learning more about them and the rest of the stimuli that serves as my life in every moment.
A Voice Like No Other
I'm sure I once described to you a voice that appeals to me like no other.
Sure, my wife's voice is one of the voices I think of most.
But there's another, a person who has stood near me, singing, smiling, laughing, carrying on as if we're all hanging out at a family reunion.
She knows who I'm talking about.
But she doesn't know me and I don't know her.
How do I describe the voice without describing the voice?
She doesn't sing opera but she could sing at the Grand Ole Opry.
She doesn't sing rap but her wordplay is just as entertaining as an rapper's.
She defied the system and took a break to raise a family.
I still remember the first time I heard her like some say they remember the first time they heard Elvis.
Sitting in the carpark of a bowling alley, listening to the radio, waiting for my wife and bowling partners to show up.
Seems like a pretty appropriate place, there in Rocket City, a few miles from rocket test stands and torndown cotton mills.
Might have been sitting in the old four-dour Chevy Nova that had gone on more offroad adventures than the Ford Ranger I owned later.
They say Alison Kraus has a voice of gold but she pales in comparison to the refrain of real life pouring out of the heart and soul of Claire Lynch.
Will I ever know Claire or she know me?
Probably not.
I can't sing along with a karaoke machine, let alone a versatile performer like Claire, who jumps from bluegrass to swing with the ease of a chickadee flying through a Southern breeze bending trees and freezing bees.
Love life 'cause it's all we've got.
Sing and dance 'cause this is the only moment we know we'll ever have.
Claire, here's to you, young gal. May that voice of yours last forever, or at least as long as I'm alive and can still hear! ;)
Sure, my wife's voice is one of the voices I think of most.
But there's another, a person who has stood near me, singing, smiling, laughing, carrying on as if we're all hanging out at a family reunion.
She knows who I'm talking about.
But she doesn't know me and I don't know her.
How do I describe the voice without describing the voice?
She doesn't sing opera but she could sing at the Grand Ole Opry.
She doesn't sing rap but her wordplay is just as entertaining as an rapper's.
She defied the system and took a break to raise a family.
I still remember the first time I heard her like some say they remember the first time they heard Elvis.
Sitting in the carpark of a bowling alley, listening to the radio, waiting for my wife and bowling partners to show up.
Seems like a pretty appropriate place, there in Rocket City, a few miles from rocket test stands and torndown cotton mills.
Might have been sitting in the old four-dour Chevy Nova that had gone on more offroad adventures than the Ford Ranger I owned later.
They say Alison Kraus has a voice of gold but she pales in comparison to the refrain of real life pouring out of the heart and soul of Claire Lynch.
Will I ever know Claire or she know me?
Probably not.
I can't sing along with a karaoke machine, let alone a versatile performer like Claire, who jumps from bluegrass to swing with the ease of a chickadee flying through a Southern breeze bending trees and freezing bees.
Love life 'cause it's all we've got.
Sing and dance 'cause this is the only moment we know we'll ever have.
Claire, here's to you, young gal. May that voice of yours last forever, or at least as long as I'm alive and can still hear! ;)
Do You Know Who's Watching Your Back?
Another review.
The oldest woman in the world and I have something in common.
But I don't know what she'd think about this.
At the end of 2010, I decided to stop taking medicine that's supposed to control my blood pressure and cholesterol.
For the past few years, I have felt my self-esteem decrease and watched my weight increase as I fell into the trap of using chemical compounds to overcome my genetic tendency to live only into the 60s or 70s.
After I stopped taking the medicine, an imaginary cloud lifted and blew away, my thoughts cleared and I've lost 15 pounds of body weight.
I'm no Luddite but I'm also a skeptic when it comes to the miracles promised by new technology.
I am happy being a naturally-aging man past the midpoint of his life.
Sure, I use a computer and eat food that's supposed to be good for me but I also drink fermented beverages and occasionally eat fried, processed foods.
One of the many luxuries of a childless adulthood is feeling no guilty responsibility for my health and having no desire to see my great, great-grandchildren at birth.
So, I speak only for myself in this blog entry.
Happiness, for me, is popping no more pills day and night, having oatmeal and tea for breakfast, and then letting the rest of the day be what it may, including a random walk every now and then.
I am a new man, thanks to the freedom from nonaddictive drug dependency.
No more ARBs, statins or beta blockers for me.
No need to use my discretionary funds to subsidise the elixir industry.
This confession feels good. I've never attended an LPDA (Legal Prescription Drugs Anonymous) meeting but this feels like I just did.
"Hi, my name is Rick and I'm a recovering LPD user."
"Welcome, Rick!" shouts the chorus.
I nod and smile. A group of strangers just accepted me for who I am.
Doesn't get much more simpler and honest than that.
"Hey, guys, the pub's open. Drinks are on me!"
The oldest woman in the world and I have something in common.
But I don't know what she'd think about this.
At the end of 2010, I decided to stop taking medicine that's supposed to control my blood pressure and cholesterol.
For the past few years, I have felt my self-esteem decrease and watched my weight increase as I fell into the trap of using chemical compounds to overcome my genetic tendency to live only into the 60s or 70s.
After I stopped taking the medicine, an imaginary cloud lifted and blew away, my thoughts cleared and I've lost 15 pounds of body weight.
I'm no Luddite but I'm also a skeptic when it comes to the miracles promised by new technology.
I am happy being a naturally-aging man past the midpoint of his life.
Sure, I use a computer and eat food that's supposed to be good for me but I also drink fermented beverages and occasionally eat fried, processed foods.
One of the many luxuries of a childless adulthood is feeling no guilty responsibility for my health and having no desire to see my great, great-grandchildren at birth.
So, I speak only for myself in this blog entry.
Happiness, for me, is popping no more pills day and night, having oatmeal and tea for breakfast, and then letting the rest of the day be what it may, including a random walk every now and then.
I am a new man, thanks to the freedom from nonaddictive drug dependency.
No more ARBs, statins or beta blockers for me.
No need to use my discretionary funds to subsidise the elixir industry.
This confession feels good. I've never attended an LPDA (Legal Prescription Drugs Anonymous) meeting but this feels like I just did.
"Hi, my name is Rick and I'm a recovering LPD user."
"Welcome, Rick!" shouts the chorus.
I nod and smile. A group of strangers just accepted me for who I am.
Doesn't get much more simpler and honest than that.
"Hey, guys, the pub's open. Drinks are on me!"
It's Fun To Promote Fun
Another email, containing news about swing dancing for those of you who know how to have a good time exercising with your favorite person:
Have a great day!
As most of you know, Jason and I [Danielle] just got done running a large swing event here in town; well, because of that we got featured in the Huntsville Times. If you would like to see the article, here is the link to it online.A much better version of the Stockholm Syndrome, I'm sure.
http://blog.al.com/entertainment-times/2011/01/lindy_hop_anyone.html
Fun things for you:
The Gap commercial that came out a while back actually caused a roll in of new interest in swing dance at that time. Here is a video of it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=knW1hGwmEXQ
Some Awesome Charleston
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cY7QtPHo6M8&feature=related
Herrang Dance Camp is the largest swing dance camp in the world and it's in Sweden. Jason and I have been there twice and it's an amazing experience. So if you are ever interested in going to Sweden in the summer you really need to make a stop here. This is just one example of the craziness that goes on.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hb0bXW6l4Aw
Have a great day!
Monday, January 31, 2011
Three Mirrors
I started to ask if you believe in time. But the fact is I don't.
States of energy spin in place or they bounce to/through some other spin cycle.
My scalp itches, which tells me I'm thinking about something important to say.
Question is, will I say it?
Can you understand that which is not some form of states of energy?
Can you look at a stack of fabric or woven carbon fiber and see our universe as one set of strands intersecting another?
Can you forget the concept of position-and-momentum?
Literally, you cannot, because you are the embodiment of position-and-momentum.
We would like to think of universes similar to ours that change only slightly, like some sort of butterfly effect or negative photographic image.
In fact, we use the term universe to describe our conditions here and project some idea of universe onto that which we cannot see, and only barely imagine, to account for our inability to sum the parts of our universe to 100%.
And yet, I can pick up the phone, talk to a person I haven't seen or heard in eighteen years, and carry on a conversation as if we'd looped around and come back to the same point again, our eighteen-year loops acting like individual universes, as if we were treading water until our loops completed a circle and intersected.
Our brains preserving neuronal connections as if they were going to be reused one day, almost as if they knew they were going to be reused one day.
As if...but cause and effect are illusions, are they not? Or at least they're mysteries we wish to keep unsolved.
Can I use any points of reality in this universe to serve as an example of "universes" that have no relation to this one, without resorting to the trickery, or false illusion of certainty, of mathematics?
Or do I drop a pebble in the pond and wait for someone on the opposite shore to interpret the purpose of the unknown origin of the waves lapping the beach?
Surely, you can imagine a ghost that you can't see and it can't see or encounter you in any physical way.
But that's giving the other entity a familiar shape when there is no familiar shape to that which you cannot see or interact with.
The word "entity" itself is more than what that you cannot see deserves.
As some have said, many universes (to keep using a familiar term) are uninteresting, in and of themselves.
But it doesn't prevent us from constructing a model with which we can figure out how to convert our states of energy into a useful form in one of those uninteresting systems, as long as we don't get too distracted from the more mundane tasks of rocketing representatives of planet Earth to other parts of the solar system/galaxy.
Breaking down and building up the model of ourselves as a single species in the process.
All while keeping an eye on those who're addicted to selfish hoarding of commercial assets and willing to destroy the environment and the lives of others in order to feed their addictions.
There's a difference between healthy economic growth and economic growth for the sake of those with a technically medical psychological disorder we jokingly call greed and/or obsessive/compulsive gambling.
You see, keeping track of all seven billion of us has its benefits - diagnosing illnesses on the personal and global scale, and treating them according to personal and global needs.
Persecution complex or delusions of grandeur will be dealt with.
We can't say with certainty how these "cures" will make society any better, but we can say we acted honestly in our attempt to improve the overall health of the species and its place in the global ecosystem.
Doesn't matter how big of a private army you've amassed for yourself, we know who you are and how to get to you. We can set private army against private army, if need be, to accomplish our tasks of saving the species from itself - you don't need another demonstration to know we can and we do.
In the meantime, I have to monitor my states of energy for signs of unnatural changes or deviations that are trending away from the norm for my states of energy.
After all, I know who I am, becoming conscious of my self at age five, constantly testing my abilities and my social connections along the way to now.
While the economic hoarders think they're deciding what to do about the future of Egypt, unnecessarily scared that a modern Islamic revolution may not be democratic, because they know other vultures like themselves would love to declare a democracy but really run a dictatorship or oligarchy of some kind, the Committee is moving forward with its plan to give power to the people, to form a balance, a barrier against those ill with obsessive gambling/hoarding disease.
If the Muslim Brotherhood is willing to ensure the power base is a type of representative government, they're invited. If not, then we'll give decisionmaking to ones we already have in place to act swiftly through word-of-mouth or other old-fashioned means to get the message to those who seek true freedom within the realm of intelligence/marketplace transactions that their desires will be fulfilled with their kind of democratically-minded people.
Meanwhile, I've got an eighteen-year loop to examine more closely and see if it'll help me explain to you a boundary line where states of energy meet the unimaginable.
Thanks to Kwasis at Rave today.
States of energy spin in place or they bounce to/through some other spin cycle.
My scalp itches, which tells me I'm thinking about something important to say.
Question is, will I say it?
Can you understand that which is not some form of states of energy?
Can you look at a stack of fabric or woven carbon fiber and see our universe as one set of strands intersecting another?
Can you forget the concept of position-and-momentum?
Literally, you cannot, because you are the embodiment of position-and-momentum.
We would like to think of universes similar to ours that change only slightly, like some sort of butterfly effect or negative photographic image.
In fact, we use the term universe to describe our conditions here and project some idea of universe onto that which we cannot see, and only barely imagine, to account for our inability to sum the parts of our universe to 100%.
And yet, I can pick up the phone, talk to a person I haven't seen or heard in eighteen years, and carry on a conversation as if we'd looped around and come back to the same point again, our eighteen-year loops acting like individual universes, as if we were treading water until our loops completed a circle and intersected.
Our brains preserving neuronal connections as if they were going to be reused one day, almost as if they knew they were going to be reused one day.
As if...but cause and effect are illusions, are they not? Or at least they're mysteries we wish to keep unsolved.
Can I use any points of reality in this universe to serve as an example of "universes" that have no relation to this one, without resorting to the trickery, or false illusion of certainty, of mathematics?
Or do I drop a pebble in the pond and wait for someone on the opposite shore to interpret the purpose of the unknown origin of the waves lapping the beach?
Surely, you can imagine a ghost that you can't see and it can't see or encounter you in any physical way.
But that's giving the other entity a familiar shape when there is no familiar shape to that which you cannot see or interact with.
The word "entity" itself is more than what that you cannot see deserves.
As some have said, many universes (to keep using a familiar term) are uninteresting, in and of themselves.
But it doesn't prevent us from constructing a model with which we can figure out how to convert our states of energy into a useful form in one of those uninteresting systems, as long as we don't get too distracted from the more mundane tasks of rocketing representatives of planet Earth to other parts of the solar system/galaxy.
Breaking down and building up the model of ourselves as a single species in the process.
All while keeping an eye on those who're addicted to selfish hoarding of commercial assets and willing to destroy the environment and the lives of others in order to feed their addictions.
There's a difference between healthy economic growth and economic growth for the sake of those with a technically medical psychological disorder we jokingly call greed and/or obsessive/compulsive gambling.
You see, keeping track of all seven billion of us has its benefits - diagnosing illnesses on the personal and global scale, and treating them according to personal and global needs.
Persecution complex or delusions of grandeur will be dealt with.
We can't say with certainty how these "cures" will make society any better, but we can say we acted honestly in our attempt to improve the overall health of the species and its place in the global ecosystem.
Doesn't matter how big of a private army you've amassed for yourself, we know who you are and how to get to you. We can set private army against private army, if need be, to accomplish our tasks of saving the species from itself - you don't need another demonstration to know we can and we do.
In the meantime, I have to monitor my states of energy for signs of unnatural changes or deviations that are trending away from the norm for my states of energy.
After all, I know who I am, becoming conscious of my self at age five, constantly testing my abilities and my social connections along the way to now.
While the economic hoarders think they're deciding what to do about the future of Egypt, unnecessarily scared that a modern Islamic revolution may not be democratic, because they know other vultures like themselves would love to declare a democracy but really run a dictatorship or oligarchy of some kind, the Committee is moving forward with its plan to give power to the people, to form a balance, a barrier against those ill with obsessive gambling/hoarding disease.
If the Muslim Brotherhood is willing to ensure the power base is a type of representative government, they're invited. If not, then we'll give decisionmaking to ones we already have in place to act swiftly through word-of-mouth or other old-fashioned means to get the message to those who seek true freedom within the realm of intelligence/marketplace transactions that their desires will be fulfilled with their kind of democratically-minded people.
Meanwhile, I've got an eighteen-year loop to examine more closely and see if it'll help me explain to you a boundary line where states of energy meet the unimaginable.
Thanks to Kwasis at Rave today.
Shazam!
While I topped off the water in my 55-gallon aquarium, watching the green and brown algae pieces spin in mini-eddies between the filters and pumps which keep water circulating healthily, I asked the living creatures inside, "Who are you?"
The gurgling of popping water bubbles was the response.
I don't know how many letters, emails and IMs I get requesting the identities of the Committee members and the two in the know.
I repeat, they aren't who you think they are.
We have bigger fish to fry than you can possibly imagine.
And the fish don't come from the depleting stock of marine animals readily available and palatable for eating, either.
And those of you who have jumped up and down about the phrase "New World Order" need to understand that every day of our species' modern existence has been a reformation of the New World Order, so don't create conspiracies or theories about hidden agendas.
Remember, this is about all seven billion of us, including our personal beliefs, habits and locations.
We take into account every cult, religion, occult practice, secular behaviour, lifestyle and spending trend in which you participate.
Your life, unbeknownst to most of you, is a series of tests to ensure you are behaving as you appear to behave. Unlike what some will tell you, we have no specific plan for you - we just want to know what you're doing and how it changes the interconnections between other groups of states of energy like yourself.
You are always free to choose your behaviour in the moment.
We would like to believe every one of you makes a conscientious effort to choose your behaviour wisely.
But we know better.
That's why we work with the animatronic and computer graphics industry to get your children used to watching CG videos and playing videogames so when they visit zoos and aquariums, they can't tell the real animals from the robotic ones we're slowly putting in place to make exotic animal husbandry more affordable and controllable.
Eventually, your children's children won't tell the difference between a real member of our species and an artificial one, enabling us to keep our species' behaviour more orderly.
Until then, here's a story a friend told me about her family (I've changed the situation slightly to protect the participants).
An aunt of my friend kept calling my friend, Elizabeth, about problems with the toilet.
Elizabeth would check out the toilet and find no problem but her aunt insisted that Elizabeth stop by every time there was a problem.
Elizabeth bought her aunt a toilet plunger and showed her aunt how to use it.
Still, her aunt kept calling.
Exasperated, Elizabeth asked her uncle if he knew what the problem was.
He didn't. He said that everytime he sat on the toilet, his testicles would hang down into the water and he'd tell his wife, Elizabeth's aunt, about how the level of the water in the toilet kept seeming to rise, his personal joke about the effect of gravity on an old man's set of balls.
After a good laugh at her uncle's joke, Elizabeth explained to her aunt that the problem wasn't a stopped-up toilet but that gravity and old age had gotten the best of her aunt's husband.
The aunt laughed and apologised. She said that she understood. She was looking in the mirror the other day, thinking that her belly was hanging over her pants and then realised that it was one of her breasts.
We can still live our normal lives, fully aware and appreciative of the fact that the Committee is looking out for your best interests.
Some days, those interests include violent protests but most days it includes quiet days of families taking care of one another and sharing their own private jokes.
The gurgling of popping water bubbles was the response.
I don't know how many letters, emails and IMs I get requesting the identities of the Committee members and the two in the know.
I repeat, they aren't who you think they are.
We have bigger fish to fry than you can possibly imagine.
And the fish don't come from the depleting stock of marine animals readily available and palatable for eating, either.
And those of you who have jumped up and down about the phrase "New World Order" need to understand that every day of our species' modern existence has been a reformation of the New World Order, so don't create conspiracies or theories about hidden agendas.
Remember, this is about all seven billion of us, including our personal beliefs, habits and locations.
We take into account every cult, religion, occult practice, secular behaviour, lifestyle and spending trend in which you participate.
Your life, unbeknownst to most of you, is a series of tests to ensure you are behaving as you appear to behave. Unlike what some will tell you, we have no specific plan for you - we just want to know what you're doing and how it changes the interconnections between other groups of states of energy like yourself.
You are always free to choose your behaviour in the moment.
We would like to believe every one of you makes a conscientious effort to choose your behaviour wisely.
But we know better.
That's why we work with the animatronic and computer graphics industry to get your children used to watching CG videos and playing videogames so when they visit zoos and aquariums, they can't tell the real animals from the robotic ones we're slowly putting in place to make exotic animal husbandry more affordable and controllable.
Eventually, your children's children won't tell the difference between a real member of our species and an artificial one, enabling us to keep our species' behaviour more orderly.
Until then, here's a story a friend told me about her family (I've changed the situation slightly to protect the participants).
An aunt of my friend kept calling my friend, Elizabeth, about problems with the toilet.
Elizabeth would check out the toilet and find no problem but her aunt insisted that Elizabeth stop by every time there was a problem.
Elizabeth bought her aunt a toilet plunger and showed her aunt how to use it.
Still, her aunt kept calling.
Exasperated, Elizabeth asked her uncle if he knew what the problem was.
He didn't. He said that everytime he sat on the toilet, his testicles would hang down into the water and he'd tell his wife, Elizabeth's aunt, about how the level of the water in the toilet kept seeming to rise, his personal joke about the effect of gravity on an old man's set of balls.
After a good laugh at her uncle's joke, Elizabeth explained to her aunt that the problem wasn't a stopped-up toilet but that gravity and old age had gotten the best of her aunt's husband.
The aunt laughed and apologised. She said that she understood. She was looking in the mirror the other day, thinking that her belly was hanging over her pants and then realised that it was one of her breasts.
We can still live our normal lives, fully aware and appreciative of the fact that the Committee is looking out for your best interests.
Some days, those interests include violent protests but most days it includes quiet days of families taking care of one another and sharing their own private jokes.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
No One To Thank But Yourself
Two news items worth archiving/bookmarking:
Hold your chins up because you never know which one is your good luck charm.
- Take control of your frugality
- You can thank other people, too ==> Julia's recent email
Thankful Newsletter for January 2011
Welcome to The 'Thank You' Project's newsletter! Some of you asked if there was a way to follow the thanks via email, and now there is. Thankful Newsletter will be featuring a summary of the most appreciated content from the The 'Thank You' Project's blog and Facebook page, bringing it to you once or twice a month (which will mostly depend on your feedback, so do let me know how often you want it!) Of course, you can unsubscribe and subscribe back at any time.
January has been a fantastic month for TTYP: among other things, it marked The 'Thank You' Project's first ever mention on the radio and my first ever radio interview! All thanks to Karen Rodrigues of North Shore's FM99.3 in Australia and her weekend show Breakfast In Bed!
January is also a month when we reflect back on the past year, so I cannot overlook the amazing opportunity I had to collaborate with the creators of HAPPY, a documentary about our most treasured emotion, on the upcoming thankful book. Sending massive thanks to the director Roko Belic and movie transcriber and publicist Derek Silvers! To find out what people from all over the world were most thankful for last year, we also took a look at the Gratitude Index 2010 - an update that was made possible with the amazing data collected and analyzed by ThankfulFor.com and the thankful thoughts from these of you who took TTYP's Thankful Survey (it's still not late to submit your answers for future data analysis), so THANK YOU!
Stay tuned for more thankful news and updates in 2011!
Thankfully yours,
Julia (a.k.a. The Thanksgiving Girl)
Copyright © 2011 The 'Thank You' Project, All rights reserved.
You are receiving this email because you have expressed an interest in The 'Thank You' Project or in reaching out to its author via the aforementioned blog. Thank you!
Our mailing address is:
The 'Thank You' ProjectMoscowMoscow, Moskva 109369
Hold your chins up because you never know which one is your good luck charm.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Blind Spot Monitoring
In a time where the post-recessional recovery, fiscally, physically and mentally, displays a series of forward-pushing and delayed wavelike effects, looking for patterns in the actions of families, including religious practices/beliefs/renewals and a sense of relief that the world is not ending, much is worth thinking about.
Unfortunately, I am too tired to comment on what my programmers have reported.
Time is on our side - that's enough for now.
More tomorrow.
Unfortunately, I am too tired to comment on what my programmers have reported.
Time is on our side - that's enough for now.
More tomorrow.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Consult an advisor if continuing study in the discipline
After much debate with eggheads floating in thinktanks, the president declared that she is running as the lead candidate for all parties in the next election.
The Ups, the Downs, the Lefts, the Rights, the Centrists, the Single Platformers, the Dive Platformers, the All-Arounders, and the Unofficial Undecideds.
Now that the president has stepped forth and stood beside the opposition, warmly reaching out to political commentators of all shapes and sizes, the world is both shocked and unsurprised.
The truth will find a way.
We are one species.
Imagine all the possibilities if we admitted such.
For starters, politicians could focus on tough issues, not worried that they won't get reelected because they've all declared themselves head of every party fronting viable and unlikely candidates.
Business and government fully merge into one entity, doing away with old confusing labels.
Standing armies and private armies - what's the difference anymore?
The Geneva Convention gives way to a universal business code of ethics.
All is all.
The business-as-usual approach to changing market conditions.
Holly/Bolly/Hongwood media industries become the official voice of the people, no longer required to produce quasishocking storylines to gain market share, although they will continue to produce antiestablishment films and music to identify which citizens are attracted to topics of an antisocial nature and need reeducation or one-way trips to Mauritius, Afghanistan or Aruba.
Children who complain that the house is too cold or the food variety is unacceptable will be required to chop and haul wood to stoves used for heating their rooms and work on the farm to raise and slaughter animals and plants which they'll cook for the whole neighbourhood every evening.
City parks will be converted into working farms to show urban dwellers that life doesn't happen by magic.
Addicted gamers will be required to work in virtual factories that the gamers don't know are connected to real automated ones (and you thought a simulated play environment let you escape your chores - wait until you see what we do with unproductive working gamers!).
The president is smiling - she is in a happy place. All is right with the world of people who aren't going anyplace else anytime soon.
Of course, the Committee has me working on how to convert their entities into the material that'll let them move in and out of the twines, strings and bubbles woven into whatever it is we're not supposed to talk about because it can't be fully described in this universe.
No time to proofread - there's a species to observe quietly and satirically. Every voice, no matter what it's saying, is the voice of my people - celebrate them all equally and the life-affirming will outshine the life-negating everytime, especially when satire contains the hidden and obvious seeds for growing the next generation's glorious achievements.
Thanks to all the wonderful, beautiful, smiling faces at Thai Garden last night, where commerce meets the family dinner table.
The Ups, the Downs, the Lefts, the Rights, the Centrists, the Single Platformers, the Dive Platformers, the All-Arounders, and the Unofficial Undecideds.
Now that the president has stepped forth and stood beside the opposition, warmly reaching out to political commentators of all shapes and sizes, the world is both shocked and unsurprised.
The truth will find a way.
We are one species.
Imagine all the possibilities if we admitted such.
For starters, politicians could focus on tough issues, not worried that they won't get reelected because they've all declared themselves head of every party fronting viable and unlikely candidates.
Business and government fully merge into one entity, doing away with old confusing labels.
Standing armies and private armies - what's the difference anymore?
The Geneva Convention gives way to a universal business code of ethics.
All is all.
The business-as-usual approach to changing market conditions.
Holly/Bolly/Hongwood media industries become the official voice of the people, no longer required to produce quasishocking storylines to gain market share, although they will continue to produce antiestablishment films and music to identify which citizens are attracted to topics of an antisocial nature and need reeducation or one-way trips to Mauritius, Afghanistan or Aruba.
Children who complain that the house is too cold or the food variety is unacceptable will be required to chop and haul wood to stoves used for heating their rooms and work on the farm to raise and slaughter animals and plants which they'll cook for the whole neighbourhood every evening.
City parks will be converted into working farms to show urban dwellers that life doesn't happen by magic.
Addicted gamers will be required to work in virtual factories that the gamers don't know are connected to real automated ones (and you thought a simulated play environment let you escape your chores - wait until you see what we do with unproductive working gamers!).
The president is smiling - she is in a happy place. All is right with the world of people who aren't going anyplace else anytime soon.
Of course, the Committee has me working on how to convert their entities into the material that'll let them move in and out of the twines, strings and bubbles woven into whatever it is we're not supposed to talk about because it can't be fully described in this universe.
No time to proofread - there's a species to observe quietly and satirically. Every voice, no matter what it's saying, is the voice of my people - celebrate them all equally and the life-affirming will outshine the life-negating everytime, especially when satire contains the hidden and obvious seeds for growing the next generation's glorious achievements.
Thanks to all the wonderful, beautiful, smiling faces at Thai Garden last night, where commerce meets the family dinner table.
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