On Presidents Day

Small Victories

The same discoveries over and over...
Leading to victory with the least resistance - bend but don't break...

Off to new territory but stuck in the same cycle of post-victory depression;
Make fun of myself to keep from believing my path,
The one I trailblaze in parallel with those who have
followed their own thought trails that felt right to a lot of other people,
Is the way.

I'm still accustomed to the habit of pleasing other people;
If I only pleased me, I...don't know.
What I want no person can give me,
I believe,
Which means I'm still thinking like one form of people pleaser.

So much more than what meets the eye -
How do I describe what I cannot see?
I have no interest in math-based symbology,
No matter how universal it appears to be;
More of a COBOL guy, I guess.

Using the species to test theories about bringing them
up to speed on what's going on at a level where we hardly matter -
Why would our species care to know that we really don't matter?
Just go on with it, Rick -
This might be your ticket out of here,
Or at least away from ennui, melancholia, and depression.

Anything is possible, despite evidence contradictory.

On, on, on...do I invent my own roadsigns?
How do I get the zeitgeist out of my thoughts?

What if the people elected Gerry Adams of Sinn Féin
and showed they truly forgave themselves as a people for the past?

I miss the days of large predators.

Claire de Lune Revisited

I stood outside with the Moon, you
Beside me in thought, no sound except
Orion shooting stars;
Leafless trees,
How do they breathe in winter?

You walked under the Moon, you said,
Your accent somewhere between New York
And here.
A distance, voice echoing against Little
Mountain, bouncing off moon rays, casting
Shadows like musicians' roles.

Did the Ancients watch starlight cross
Ripples in ponds?
Could I sing a lullaby or ballad to the
One I love?

Can I pull a melody out of the rope
Tied to a one-note steeple bell?
You sing in my thoughts as if you set up home
Here a long time ago.

CHORUS

Moonbeams and shadows
Cloud over my thoughts;
Long walks and happiness,
Will you comfort me tonight?

Wasn't long ago you never said you love me,
Wasn't in a song I heard your sweet reply,
Won't be long now until I see you again,
Won't be these words that put me behind a plow.

ACOUSTIC GUITAR SOLO


We rarely remember when we heard the whistle
Of the train of our thoughts passing through
The station of Mushy Memories,
But I'll always remember when you bowed
To my applause, and put this farmer's son at ease.

MANDOLIN/FIDDLE DUO WITH BASS IMPROV IN BACKGROUND

BRIDGE

CHORUS

Moonbeams and shadows,
Cloud over her thoughts...
Long walks and happiness,
Will you comfort her tonight?

Grey Day On The Charles

"Buffy, darling, something smells absolutely steel-cold dead in here."

"I'm sorry, Tiffany.  I'll move the urn of my mother's ashes off the grand piano and into the other room...

There, how does that smell?"

"Much better!  Next time, I recommend you spray a little Urn Odour Deodouriser before you have friends over for tea."

"I will, dear, I will.  Mother would have preferred it that way."

"Yes, 'Mum always knows best!'"

At my age, friends are starting to drop like flies buzzing through the cloud of hairspray hanging over Dolly Parton's wig.

Reminds me of a poem I wrote (old age is already bringing out memories, the nostalgic "golden years" of the poetic youth in me):

Modern-day Martyr

Anticipating your reluctant smile
And knowing that we sometimes fail to see
Our love (that drive to satisfy), and while
You wiped away the tears, recalling Lee,
I hugged you tighter.  Had they told the truth?
I mean, your brother fell.  You know the bridge
Was slippery.  You know they cannot prove
He killed himself.  Just take your privilege
To put these thoughts aside and sleep tonight.
In time, you'll have perspective and the strength
To put your brother's death back in the light,
To recall the times he went to any length
To pull you out of your self-pity.  Now
Is not the time for asking "Why?" or "How?"
-- 29 October 1985

A bluebird is eating in the spindly bushes outside my window right now on this sunny, cool, breezy day in early February, Groundhog's Day, one calendar day short of Chinese New Year (but my clock says the New Year has begun on the other side of the planet), when spring has hinted that the short winter in these parts will soon end.

An SUV flies down the road and a group of goldfinches scatters.

Watching the wildlife outside the winter*, these woods a natural traffic lane, I almost think the birds know that mating season is upon us.

[*a double-play on words, including the subcultural pronunciation of window]

Another poem comes to mind, one I may have shared with you already:

My religion is based on a form

My religion is based on a form,
neither simple nor complex,
Known nor unknown,
A form that can never be perfected.
The form is based on the shape of a wave,
A wave that completes a revolution,
That revolves around an unfixed position.
The wave does not exist
But its form is imitated by physical phenomena.

My religion is based on a few short words --
Everything goes in a circle.
-- 3 October 1985

Do you find yourself talking more frequently with your pets than with people?

At the post office yesterday, while I was mailing some of my wife's homemade cake truffles to our nephew at college, a woman told me that a single person with dogs can get a letter authorising her dogs as her official companions and the dogs will have to be allowed to stay with that person at any hotel/motel/B&B in the U.S.

The woman showed me her copy of the dog-as-companion letter she carries so she can take her two dogs with her as she travels from Utah to Colorado to Alabama and back.

Wonder if the bluebirds, goldfinches, nuthatches or woodpeckers would serve as my travel companions?

Have you ever scolded a woodpecker for punching holes in your furniture?

"Hey, Woody, there ain't no bugs in those varnished slabs!"

Oh, wait, here's a regulation by the Forest Service I wasn't aware of: "Wild birds may not be caged or carried as domestic companions during mating season - tests have shown there's rarely enough room in the cage, carrier or human on-the-road sleep chamber to accommodate the intricate mating dance required by most avian creatures."

[Hmm, seems like my marriage licence had the same restrictions.  Drum roll and rim shot, please!  No, no, hold the applause and laughter until the end.]

Let's see, look at my to-do list...

BORN.  Check!
MARRY. Check!
HAVE KIDS. Skip!
DIE.  Nope, not yet.  Still got that nagging issue of making sure we're set up to communicate transuniversally in 2050.

This guy's cycle's not over yet!  Miles to go before I give it the ol' heave-ho!

Until next time, Sialia sialis.

The Past Calls Out One More Time

Fill the air with enough smoke and mirrors and the people will grow numb through ennui.  Also, being comfortable in one's religious beliefs allows one to make fun outside the artificial bounds of insecurity.  And so it goes...

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Eternal Nourishment

I know you've heard me say I don't believe in God.

If you haven't then I'll say it again:

"I don't believe in God."

Why should I?

Everyday I go to the altar of food

Where my wants and needs are satisfied.

I used to worry about leaving the house.

When I'm at home,

I solve my problems by going to the kitchen.

When I'm away from home,

I can't always drive back if a problem arises.

I can't carry the kitchen with me everywhere I go, either.

There's something about the kitchen.

If I feel depressed 'cause I feel indecisive,

I just walk to the kitchen and fix something to eat.

Voila! I've made a decision.

If I feel sad, I can always cheer myself up with

A bowl of ice cream.

In the morning, I go to the kitchen

And the refrigerator answers my morning prayer

With a glass of orange juice.

I sacrifice a grapefruit on the counter

Before I go to school.

But like I said,

I used to worry about leaving the house.

I no longer worry.

Thank God for fast food and convenience stores.

Now, I can solve my problems --

My wants and needs --

Immediately, anywhere, I go.

- 12 February 1986

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False Webs of Logic

I think, therefore I am. -- Descartes

I am more than body or mind.

I am body and mind.

If reincarnation,

The movement of soul from a dying/dead body

to a newly created body,

Exists,

Then in my last body I was taken away

Before I really wanted to leave.

On another level (in other words, in another context),

To believe this life is worthwhile,

I want life to be a continuous movement,

Neither away nor toward, increasing nor decreasing,

Just movement [for movement's sake].

Life is motion.

Whether my life as a human being is worthwhile,

The death of this "me" would result only in the

Change of movement of the parts of "me."

My life, as a human being and a part of an ecosystem,

Is organized movement, random acts

That on certain scales of observation appear to follow patterns.

On one of these scales, I do not want "I" to appear.

Which scale(s) shall I choose?

When I stop to be influenced by my immediate surroundings,

I realize I sometimes write/think to avoid participating

in this life.

Participating entails taking out the trash,

Studying for exams and other tasks I deplore

(Which require little effort to accomplish)

But which "everyone" must do to live.

Tasks, trades, chores, skills --

We must do something since doing is moving

And moving is living.

"Is" -- the verbal equals sign.

"Me" -- the consequence of human existence.

Aah! I relaxed when I hugged a pillow last night

And told myself all the thoughts of mine are wonderful

And, at least, matter to someone -- me -- the solipsist.

Me is the Someone in my life.

The Others I can never completely understand.

Someone must understand me and I must understand Someone.

Therefore, Someone can only be me.

"I" and "me" disappear to become "all."

Every human being,

Every source of movement recognizable by this "all,"

Is like this "all,"

And we're all "all" together.

Shall I jump into the "world village" life

Or slip back into my solipsistic shell?

That's a question for Someone (like me) to figure out.

Some of us are original, some of us clever

And the rest sit on their brains.

I like myself better when I'm funny.

My attempts at philosophy are webs of false logic.

I shit, therefore I am.

- 17 February 1986

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A few more to fill the dead air space before the next major blog entry...

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Thoughts While Driving The Car From Knoxville

Interpersonal communication --

When conversing with someone else
(One or more persons),
I find that person influences my thoughts and reactions
In that I see the reflection of myself in that person
And see what qualities (reactions) I want to have reflected.

"We are who our friends are."

As we change, our vocabularies change,
Thus our tools for communication change,
So life is an ongoing conversation
To establish or determine what our vocabularies are
But changing them at the same time.

"We all die alone."

We die with our last thoughts unspoken.

- 12 January 1986

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Thoughts While Driving The Car To Knoxville

Qualities...that's what it was...

Today I realized that it was the same qualities...

That that person had the same qualities as I had...

And my dream [emotion/draw] was just my admiration of

that person having the same qualities.

I have always admired them.

It gives you that ability to do, get-out-and-go chutzpah,

That...That...uh...that urge to...

Achieve.

How can you help but admire that?

That's how I get up and go. I just get it out real quick.

Isn't that what a sane person does?

- 18 January 1986

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Leaving Knoxville Again

Isn't it funny?

I look forward to this feeling
Of the absence of human touch.

What is my natural repulsion
To the touch of other humans?

M & P,
Give me a little longer
To figure out you guys aren't perfect.

- 19 January 1986

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Sleepfulness and Wakelessness

I opened my eyes and the dawn spoke to me in a giant whisper, a sound that hinted of warm afternoons and apples falling onto fresh-cut grass.

I closed my eyes to recall the dreams, the insane fantasies from the inner universe untouched by Time.

My eyes opened or closed, my thoughts see the dawn and the dreams as one. No beginning or end, no infinity in which to hide, both time and timelessness intertwined to form my world, an existence totally apart from me but really me apart from the world; "I" has no bounds.

This world a highway and I a driver asleep at the wheel.
 
Thank God, God bless you, Goddamn -- God takes many forms.
 
"Yessir. Just visitin' this planet. Won't be here long."
 
I'm off to dream a world of peace where sleeping forms control.
 
I'm off to Never-Never Land, never to return.
 
I'm gone. Goodbye. Goodnight.

- 22 January 1986

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Waiting for Inspiration

Magritte.

"Living with your mind is a personal responsibility."

In this...this and that, this and that, this and that...

Silence except for a classical concert
On public radio (redundant) station,
I wait for the mental boost to write on subjects I wish to discuss.

A poem about looking at a fire,
Staring into the flames,
Engulfing the coals for later nourishment.

A story about my eavesdropping visit to the Hyland Plasma Center:
"What have you been doing with yourself?"
"Yeah, well, I'm on probation for five years."
"Why don't we buy a half gallon after this?"
A story of sexual fantasies.

- 23 January 1986

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Another Artistic Break

The Wondering Wanderer

Smokey's Restaurant, University of Tennessee campus, Knoxville, Tennessee
 
I sit here, the wondering wanderer (the wandering wonderer),
And wonder in my wanderings.

If I love longer,
Shall I have to think?
Shall I make decisions and make goals?

Or will I keep wandering,
Drifting in the no-man's land,
Forever searching for nothing.

Nothing...for me, there is nothing;
[Me, like you, is undefined]
For I, for you, have everything, everything no one else can have.

Anyone can have anything, except everything you have now.

Tomorrow, you may have nothing.

Anyone can have everything tomorrow.

Negation, nihilism -- I refuse myself everything.

If I can't have everything then I have nothing.

Everything is nothing in the end.

I already have everything, n'est pas?

No matter how you cover it, it is just the same.

Words come and go like people.
Time to go. See you later. Nice to meet you.
Have fun. Be good.
"Hey, be careful out there."

If you don't want to learn a new culture
(Or understand the people),
Force your culture upon all other cultures.

We are all human animals. They are all animals.

We learn by doing.

I feel anxiety with other people and often feel out of control.

Ideas to help you function effectively:

1) It's definitely nice to have people's love and approval --
but even without it, I can still accept and enjoy MYSELF.
2) Doing things well is satisfying --
but it's human to make mistakes;
3) People are going to act the way THEY want --
not the way I want.

Did we invent robots or did we rediscover ourselves?

- 11 January 1986

Cranking Up The Wayback Machine

Winter Storm Advisory

We’re in the midst
Of what the weather forecasters call
Blizzard conditions;
That is, we have 5-8 inches of snow on the ground
And the wind is gusting up to 50 miles/hour.
The official temperature is 25°F right now.
Some TV stations are calling this
The Storm Of The Century.
I can see why.
Snow fell in Mobile (two inches),
Birmingham (13 inches),
and Montgomery (3 inches).
Over 12 inches fell in the mountains
Around Mentone (the Lookout Mountain area).
Unfortunately for the birds,
I put the last of the birdseed in the bird feeder out back
So I hope they have enough to last them a couple of days.

- 13 March 1993

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Do Bookies Bet On The Weather?

I walked through the woods yesterday
And saw footprints in the snow
Left by many animals including deer, dogs and birds.
Some of the dog-size prints
May have been possum or raccoon since they, too,
Occupy the woods behind my house.
Several cedar trees and limbs had fallen
Or broken off due to snow.
Officially (so to speak),
I measured the snow in our yard on Saturday;
I measured six inches on the driveway
And thirteen and a half inches on the back deck
(An actual snow drift in Huntsville!).
Mount Mitchell in North Carolina recorded 50 inches
While Asheville had around two feet of snow.
Several cities from Alabama to Pennsylvania
Recorded new 24-hour snowfall records.
Therefore, news agencies labeled this storm,
"The storm of the century."
Also, I’ll mention several cities up the East Coast
Recorded new barometric pressure lows.
New low of 12°F on Saturday night.
Janeil and I will try to drive over the mountain
To work this morning.

- 15 March 1993

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Merrily, Merrily, Merrily...

Collecting my thoughts for another ride
Through the valley of no evil, paychecks or worries.
Not a lot to worry about anyway,
Just cruising along the highway -- literally.
I and the passengers of this car
Plan to spend the day
At the Starwood Amphitheater in Nashville.
I look forward to spending the day with friends
But I don’t relish the thought
Of sweating in the hot sun all day.
What the hell --
There’s always pain in pleasure.
Sometimes you just have to look
A little harder for the pleasure.
While aging on this planet,
I notice I allow myself
To let the thinking process slide by
Without recording the words on paper.
That’s okay.
I’ve been living a life
That doesn’t need to be on paper.
I live the eternal dance of BORNMARRYDIE,
which is a short version of
BORNMARRYHAVEKIDSDIE,
The ultimate dance of life.
Some people have argued recently
That MARRY should be replaced with MATE.
I respond to those
That in my world
MARRY is the word for MATE.

- 6 July 1993

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3D Sensory Perception

As daffodils push their leaves up out of the ground, I see birds in the tree limbs overhead.

But I cannot hear them.

The whistling of tinnitus is louder than normal today.

And with that, I have lost part of my former normal hearing.

And with that, I have lost part of my three-dimensional sensory perception (or 4D, if you consider time of flight (of sound and birds)).

The second time my wife and I met, at age 14, we hiked five days on the Appalachian Trail.  Ten years later, we married.

My reputation at that time earned me the nickname "Eagle Eyes" because I could hear many sounds others couldn't and would identify the source of many of the sounds, usually birds, accurately.

Boy Scout training, in that case, taught me to pull order out of the chaos of background noise.

Now, much of what I see and hear is background noise again.

Would that I could write a violin piece for someone like Anne-Sophie Mutter and hear all the subharmonics!

Perhaps I could convince my wife that I prefer hikes on the AT to walking through shopping districts and tourist traps?

I don't remember as many birds or their sounds as I used to, but then again I can't hear them, so there is a symmetry to my forgetfulness.

To see the silence of space from a suborbital craft would suit me just fine, I'm sure.

Today is a time for quiet meditation.

No need to see or hear much.

My curiosity is not piqued.

Small piles of glommed-together snowflakes melt under the pelt of rain.

Give in to the tinnitus, sssssssssssss...

Give in to a morning lost, zzzzzzzzzzzzzz...