Cat People

Cat People

  “How we behave towards cats here below, determines our status in Heaven” - Robert Heinlein.  Two men I greatly admire, Robert Heinlein and Ernest Hemmingway, were cat lovers. Hemmingway’s home on Key West has always been a cat sanctuary. In fact they are the sole inhabitants of it now. Heinlein once remarked that cats should be given full citizenship. And I don’t think he was joking. Cats have obtained an unusual status in human society. Dogs are said to be man’s best friend, and that may very well be true. But it is also true that man has become cat’s best friends in the same way. It is true that cats provoke varying degrees of responses in people. Some people look on them with suspicion and mistrust. Some see them as evil. I’ve even known people who are extremely afraid of cats. And then there are those like one of my brothers who hate them for no apparent reason. I don’t understand such adverse reactions. I suspect it has something to do with control issues. A dog is easily trainable and learns quickly who his master is. If he doesn’t, he’s sent to obedience school until he gets it. Cats are not easily trained to obey. In fact it’s pretty much a waste of time to even try. You can’t out-stubborn a cat. But cats are pretty good at training us. They will let you feed them and provide shelter, but they are quick to point out (via a gifted body of a dead mouse or bird left at your doorstep) that they don’t need you for either and are perfectly capable of making it on their own. They signal you when they’re ready for inter-species interaction and disdain any attempts at such when they are not. They train you the same way you would train a dog. Reward and punishment. You are rewarded with a little attention for good behavior and are punished for bad behavior by being ignored completely. If you persist in your bad behavior, punishment could quickly escalate to a more physical level. We humans learn fast, and they like that in us.

  My wife and I have three dogs and two cats that share our home with us. The dogs mostly stay outside during the day. The smallest of the three usually comes in at night because he has a job as foot warmer in the bed that he is very diligent about. The two cats lounge around the house all day and go out at night. Tabby Cat has been with my wife for about eight years now (he has seniority over me, and he’s always sure to point that out – so do the dogs. I’m the junior member of the pack.) We have another female cat that has only recently joined us. Ali Cat is her name (don’t look at me – I didn’t name either of them or they would be sporting something like Orson Wells and Dejah Thoris). Ali is only about six months old and was abandoned by some neighbors who moved out when she was only a few weeks old. She had to fight her way into the family, but she’s a brave soul and a tough one. She’s earned the respect of all the dogs and quickly became best buds with the smallest one. Tabby Cat, on the other hand, was a tough sell. It took him a little while, but he finally decided there was enough room in his kingdom for one more…besides she’s kinda cute.

  Tabby Cat is a real character. I didn’t much like him when I first came on the scene. He was not affectionate towards me at all. In fact I could see it in his eyes that I was looked upon as a temporary nuisance that he could easily get rid of with a mere flick of his tail if I wasn’t careful. Tabby is a big cat. And not at all graceful like the cats I’ve experienced in the past. He’s a klutz! I’ve often described him as a four-legged Dennis the Menace. He has this habit of picking a spot in the house that will become his favorite napping spot for about a week or so. Then he gets bored with that spot and picks another. The spot he picks could be an end table, a night stand, a book shelf, or the top of my chest of drawers. Anything that happens to be on the spot of the week gets pushed off to the floor. It doesn’t matter if it’s fragile or not, it’s going down. He’s broken many a vase, a couple of lamps, and a picture frame or two. Tabby Cat, like all cats, is a pretty good communicator. You just have to know the language. Once I settled in and, more importantly became the one primarily responsible for feeding the cats, Tabby warmed up to me. Now we’re best buds, or at least he lets me think we are as long as it suits him. Which means, I guess, that now I belong to him, and I can stay. I like dogs. They are loyal and protective of the ones they care about. Like I’ve said before, they have qualities that make them better people than we are sometimes. But I really like cats. Especially ornery old rascals like Tabby Cat who is what he is and could give a fig about what you think of him. It took us a while to get to know each other, but now that we have, we’ve both come to recognize and appreciate kindred spirits.

Plot Your Course

Plot Your Course

  It’s been my experience that there are three kinds of people in the world. There are those that plot and plan out their lives from day one. The more successful people are all like that. They have a roadmap they intend to follow and they stick with it no matter what. These people can’t do anything without mapping out a plan way before they get started implementing it. My wife is one of those types of people. Say we’re going to take a little trip next weekend to visit relatives or just go to another city and stay in a hotel. She has to make a list of all the things we need to do first. Make reservations. Decide what clothes to pack, etc., etc. Decide what other kinds of things we need in the car. Talk about the list for days. Tweak the list. Change her mind several times about the things on the list. Once she gets it all squared away in her mind, she finally puts her list into action. She sometimes gets a little upset when things don’t pan out just the way she imagined they would or went according to her list. That’s okay. That’s just the way she operates. She’s a natural born planner. The world needs planners. The Pyramids would have never been built if it weren’t for planners like my wife. This kind of people often ends up being our leaders, politicians, scientists, industrialists, or your boss.

  Then there are the type of people like me and my daughter. We are definitely not planners by nature. I gave it a shot a long time ago, but I quickly discovered that all my plans didn’t just often go awry – they always went awry. So I said to heck with that and quit doing it. I’m more of a spur of the moment kind of person. I try not to get wrapped up in plans. I just do it – hmm, where have I heard that before? Of course this drives my wife nuts. Spontaneity is so much a part of my mentality now that I always have an overnight bag packed and ready to go. Never know when I might just decide to bug out and go somewhere. I’m not kidding either. Right now I rarely get to go anywhere anymore because of my commitment to take care of my elderly father. But my bag is still packed, nonetheless, just in case. My daughter and I went on a spur of the moment trip once to San Antonio…just for the heck of it. We didn’t make reservations ahead of time. We didn’t have any particular things we wanted to do while we were there. We just got in the car and went. Once we got there we rode around until we found a nice motel and checked in. We rested for a little while, and then just got in the car and drove around the city. Of course we hit the River Walk and dined at some nice restaurants. Then it was back to the hotel and laying around pool side for a while to rest up. We did head out one morning to go to Sea World, but we missed the exit. And then we saw a sign advertising a safari type zoo and some caverns. We went there instead and had a great time. On the way back we found a wonderful Cajun restaurant – who knew they had such a thing in San Antonio? All in all, it was a very relaxing and fun weekend that I will never forget. And none of it was planned in advance. The good thing about this kind of people is that they are very adept at rolling with the punches. Life can throw a lot of curve balls, but these folks take them in stride and move on. This kind of people often ends up being our artists, writers, musicians, philosophers, and poets.

  The third kind of people I kind of feel sorry for sometimes. They’re neither planners nor spur of the moment type people. They are never proactive about anything. They simply react to the situations they find themselves in usually accompanied by a lot of hand wringing, tears, or complaining. They are always the victims and it is always the other guy’s fault and not theirs. They don’t plan ahead and they don’t see it coming. And once they find themselves in the middle of a situation, they don’t have a clue as to what to do about it other than whine. Their whole modus operandi is to hope someone will rescue them and show them a way out of their current situation. Yeah, we’ve all met people like this. The needy ones. Clingy. I have been drawn into relationships with this type of people before. I always feel sorry for strays and want to take them in and nurture them. Fix them up. Maybe I could show them how to change a little and deal with life on their own terms rather than always being reactive instead of proactive. It never works. You can’t change them. They have to want to change themselves and then just do it on their own. That can happen, but it usually doesn’t. Unfortunately, there is a lot of this kind of people in the world. But the thing you have to understand is, nothing is set in concrete. With a little effort, you can change the road you’re on. You can decide you don’t want to be a spur of the moment type person any longer and start planning a new you. Make a list and stick to it. Or you can throw away your lists and start nurturing your spontaneous and more creative side. And if you are one of the third kind of people, it is not Their fault. It’s not the World’s fault. Make yourself a plan and plot yourself a new course. Stick with it. Someday you will get there. Even if you don’t quite make it all the way, at least you tried. Become responsible for your own destiny. Don’t wait for destiny to happen to you. Pick a star and plot your course.  It is never too late for that.

Moral Compass

                             Moral Compass
 You know when I was a kid, I did a little experiment that I had read about where I floated a sewing needle that I had rubbed vigorously with a piece of cloth on a dish of vegetable oil and watched as it slowly pointed north. I was given a real compass right after that and was quite intrigued by the fact that no matter what I did to it, the needle, when left to its own devices, would inevitably turn back until it was pointing once again to magnetic north. Even as a kid, I could see how this could be useful. Always knowing where north was would make it difficult to get lost in any environment. I have known a lot of people that have a terrible sense of direction. When you ask them which way town is, they invariably point in the wrong direction. I worked with many people like that when I worked in the oil refining business. Refineries are big places. There were many times when I was listening to someone tell me about something that happened at such and such a unit within the refinery, and they would point in a direction they were talking about. I would spin them around and point out the unit clearly visible above all the others which would be in the complete opposite direction from the direction they had pointed. I’m one of the lucky ones that has a pretty good sense of direction.

  Once my dad was going to take my brothers and I hunting in the woods. It was a very cloudy day and as you know, in the woods every place looks just like every other place. It’s quite easy to get turned around. Dad was leading us through the woods to a certain spot where he had hunted many times. But I noticed that we were going in circles. I whispered to my brother that we were lost. My dad heard me and told me he knew exactly where he was and that we weren’t lost at all. About fifteen minutes later, I told my brother that if we weren’t lost and going in circles why were we passing the same tree we had just passed fifteen minutes earlier. I knew better than to question my dad. But my brother hadn’t quite learned that lesson yet. He asked dad why we were going in circles. My dad got angry (even though I could tell he knew he was lost). He said if I was so smart, I should lead us back to the car. So I said okay, follow me. I made a beeline in one direction and they all followed. About ten minutes later, we came out of the woods about ten feet away from the car. Even dad was impressed.

  In life it would be nice to always have a built in compass to guide you when you’re wrestling with difficult situations. You often hear people talking about a moral compass. But looking at the shape the world’s in today, it is extremely obvious that such a thing is not built in at all. The dictionary defines morals as: “of, pertaining to, or concerned with the principles or rules of right conduct or the distinction between right and wrong.”

  Rules of right conduct. Hmm…where have I seen something like that put forward in black and white? Oh yeah, it was called the Ten Commandments. But those rules have pretty much fallen out of fashion, right? Then there’s that golden rule thing. But we all know that there are some sick people in the world who thrive of being treated badly. So that rule seems to be very arbitrary and is not entirely dependent on right or wrong. For such a rule to be beneficial you would have to assume that the person applying it in the first place is a moral person to begin with. Then there’s the law or set of laws that a society has agreed to abide by. But society is a conglomerate. It is made up of individuals, not all of whom will abide by those laws. So can we really count on that to protect us? And what happens when flaunting such laws is a day to day occurrence? What happens when they are flaunted openly by the majority of individuals in a society? And we’ve all seen “talented” lawyers twist the law around to suit their own purposes and obviously guilty people end up going free and unpunished. So what does a society count on for peaceful coexistence of its individual members?  If a moral compass is not built into the individual or the society as a whole, how does it avoid sliding into chaos? Physical coercion? What else is there? If you toss aside a religious based set of guidelines, and daily subvert society’s legal system, and even the golden rule has lost its ability to guide good behavior and deter bad what’s left? What are the results of not really having a moral compass? To quote Bob Dylan, “Yes, how many times can a man turn his head, pretending he just doesn't see? The answer my friend is blowin' in the wind. The answer is blowin' in the wind. Look around you. The answer is plain to see.

Reach Out and Touch Someone

Reach Out And Touch Someone

    I know I’m not alone in this, at least I don’t think so. But sometimes I feel a little isolated from everything and everyone. Lonely. I sit here all day on my computer and I check my facebook page (122 friends and counting), go to Twitter (328 followers), check my email, go to author pages, watch videos, and even answer my cell phone when it shows a caller ID I recognize (which don’t happen often – trust me). In spite of all that, I still often have this queasy uneasiness that, if I have to put a finger on it and give it a name, that name would have to be loneliness. I stay with my elderly father who sleeps a good part of the day and doesn’t talk much when he’s awake. So I don’t get real face to face contact with anyone most of the time. So unless, when I go to the grocery store, someone accidentally rams their shopping cart into mine, I have very little interaction with my fellow human beings on a face to face basis. On the weekends, when I actually do get to go home to my wife who lives fifty miles away, I’m like a sponge and enjoy every minute I get to be in the same room with her.

  So why am I bringing this up here and now? It just strikes a disharmonious chord in me when I look around at all the ways we have to reach out and touch someone these days like smart phones, ipads, the internet, and twitter to name a few. And I just can’t help but wonder if all that is bringing us closer to understanding one another or putting up a barrier every bit as daunting as Captain Kirk’s deflector shields at full power. I can easily imagine a time when we will no longer interact with one another face to face. Our machines will do all that for us. Today at least I still have my wife, my kids, my family. But if you were to take all that away so that you would not ever feel someone’s arms around you, never press your lips against another’s, never hold someone’s hand while you walked together down the street, would texting them or seeing their face on your computer screen be enough? Would we still even be able to call ourselves human if we came to that point? From my own personal experience, I don’t think so.

  I know, I can hear some of you laughing and saying there’s no way that would ever happen. No way it will come to that point. Really? If you’ve been alive long enough, you don’t even have to use your imagination. When I was a kid, we never locked our doors. We knew all our neighbors. Even in grade school, if I liked a girl, I got on my bicycle and rode to her house to talk to her face to face (who am I kidding – I was so shy - I just rode in front of her house hoping she would come out so I could wave to her and then speed away as fast as I could pedal.) People were friendly and courteous to one another, even strangers. Now the only way I’m talking to a stranger is on the internet with miles and miles between us. Most of us don’t know our neighbors or at least not many of them and wouldn’t dare leave our doors unlocked at night. That gets worse the bigger the city. And the cities just keep getting bigger and bigger. When there are no menial tasks left that aren’t being done by robots, and you can do all your own work from home as many people are already doing, who are you going to reach out to and hold when you start feeling that lonesome feeling? Who will know you well enough to even care?  No, the future looks lonelier and lonelier to me all the time. Maybe it’s not too late to start thinking about where we really want to go with all our technological advances. And maybe the real question is, for convenience sake, are we about to give up our very souls, or at least the very essence of what it is to be human? You might want to think about that a little before you run out and buy the next big thing that puts itself between you and a real human being. For now anyway, do yourself a favor and put that gadget in your hands down and reach out and actually touch someone.

What Makes You Laugh

What Makes You Laugh

  Okay, you guys, I’m tired of the serious stuff. In fact I’m just tired period, so maybe I’m just a little punchy. But I can’t take hearing about one more National Disaster or Emergency today. And World Crisis or the latest NWO shenanigans – don’t even bring that crap to my attention. I already run the risk of alienating all my friends and family by trying to wake them up to what’s going on. So if you hit me with it, I might freak totally smooth out. Well, at least until I’ve had my second cup of coffee. Then be very, very careful how you bring it up. Anyway, I was reading this article this morning about how laughter is good for you. No wonder I’ve been feeling a little puny lately. I haven’t found too much to laugh about it quite some time. So quick, tell me a joke. No wait, that never works. I usually don’t laugh at jokes. Oh some of them are funny, but not that funny. I’ve been told I have a weird sense of humor. I’ve only tried to tell a joke that I’ve heard a couple of times, and I always mess it up. No sense of timing I guess. Now I do find stuff on “The Big Bang Theory” TV show hilarious sometimes. Those guys do, as they say here, make me LOL.  Maybe that has a lot to do with the fact that I really identify with that group of nerds so much having been one of them most of my life. Yes, you can’t tell it by looking at me, seeing the cool dude before you that I’ve transformed myself into (don’t look at me like that – take my word for it), but I was a Sam’s Club sized social misfit growing up. And I loved science, science fiction, and comic books way more than playing baseball or building a go-cart out of wood, spare wagon wheels, and an old lawnmower motor. I didn’t start dating until I was eighteen, and even then I had to be tricked into it by my so-called two best friends (who were also pretty much social misfits by the way but not quite as nerdy as I was). Don’t get me wrong, I liked girls. And I had started noticing them way before I was eighteen. But I was way too shy to let any of them know about it. All in all, I guess I don’t laugh nearly enough these days. So let me think about what makes me laugh. Hmm, well my daughter makes me laugh. Seriously, she’s a very funny woman and it’s hard not to laugh when she’s around. Sadly she’s not around nearly enough. Jeff Dunham makes me laugh. I’ve seen all his specials on TV many times, and they still make me laugh. Gabriel Iglesias makes me laugh – I love Fluffy! But I haven’t seen him lately. In the article I read this morning, it claimed that one of the benefits of laughter is that it lowers your blood pressure. Oh, really? Then why doesn’t my doctor just give me a big cylinder of laughing gas instead of the crappy medicine that doesn’t work very well and has stupid side effects? Can you OD on nitrous oxide? I bet I’d be a big hit at parties with my big cylinder of nitrous strapped to my back and one of those funny beer hats with the tubes running from it to my nose instead of my mouth. Another benefit of laughter according to the article was that it helps you lose weight. Now that’s funny right there! And that one did make me laugh. I’ve known some jolly old fat people in my life who laughed all the time – it didn’t work for them! And it sure never worked for me. But seriously folks, looking at my life and the world we live in today, you just gotta laugh. Because if you can’t find anything funny about all this, you may as well take a dirt nap. So to prevent that scenario, I’m outta here. Going to find some re-runs of “The Big Bang Theory” or look for Fluffy on the internet. See ya!

Oh, and here’s a couple of people I discovered on Twitter that I find to be very funny:

@Charles_E_Wells  a very witty man who’s on twitter just about every day…tell him I said hi.

Erica Lucke Dean – her blog is guaranteed to crack you up. Check it out at:

http://www.stumbleupon.com/su/21BZdQ/ericaluckedean.com/the-daily-blog/2012/12/28/blog-girl-to-the-rescue

Dealing With Dad

Dealing With Dad

  My father is about to reach his eighty sixth birthday in a couple of weeks. Three years ago last Christmas, he had a stroke that left him pretty much paralyzed on his left side. Since I retired only a few months later, I became his main caregiver. That means that most of the time I’m staying with my father at his house to take care of him and prevent him from having to go into a nursing home. I do get to go home, most of the time, to spend time with my wife on the weekends. But let me tell you a little about my father. He was raised in Breaux Bridge, La. and was the only boy with six sisters. To say he was spoiled rotten would probably be an understatement. His sister and my grandmother admitted as much to me on several occasions. He moved to Pt. Arthur, TX and, after working for a while for one of my uncles on my mother’s side of the family, joined the police department. He worked his way up through the ranks there. I do have a few vague memories of the times when he was a patrolman, but most of my earliest memories of those days revolve around the time when he was a desk Sargent. I would sometimes go with him to work in those days and hang around watching the nightly dramas unfold in the busy police station. I guess that’s why I never liked the show “Cops” on TV. Saw enough of the real thing when I was young. Anyway, he moved up the ladder quickly until he became a Lt. Detective. Finally he had reached the point to where he was next in line to become Chief of Police. But when the old Chief retired, they picked a man in the department who had less seniority than my father. Their reason was that he had more formal education than dad did. So he became the next Chief of Police instead of my father. Dad decided that he couldn’t stay there any longer and was offered a position with the County District Attorney’s office as the chief investigator. He jumped on that offer. He remained in that position until he was forced out of it at age 60. He’s been retired ever since then. In his position of command, dad has acquired the habit of giving orders and expecting them to be obeyed without question. I don’t think in his entire life he has ever had to ask anyone for anything politely and say please. Another characteristic that seems innate is his extreme impatience. Don’t tell him you will be here at 1:00 o’clock and not show up exactly at 1:00 o’clock or a little before. He will be on the phone calling a minute after one wanting to know where you’re at.  And it’s really worse than that about most things. He didn’t do well in the hospital where it is always hurry up and wait or I’ll be right back and then never show up again. He would not do well in a nursing home, and I feel for the nurses there if he ever has to go to one. On top of all this he has some lifelong prejudices that I find very hard to live with. I am nothing like my father. In fact I’m the exact opposite than him on most things, and I hate being given orders ever since my four year stent in the U.S. Army. To say that we butted horns in those first couple of years since his stroke would again be a huge understatement. I used to go home on the weekends stressed out to the max. Not only did dad’s ways stress me out, but I was dealing with a good deal of resentment for having to spend my retirement years away from what I had always planned on for this time in my life. My poor wife had to deal with me at least for the first day of every weekend just trying to come to terms with my pent up anger and resentment. In her wisdom (which I greatly value and appreciate) she pointed out that dad didn’t have a problem that needed fixing – I did. She insisted that my father was 85 years old and not likely to ever change at this stage in his life. Me expecting him to was ridiculous. So the problem was not getting him to change, but getting me to. I admit that I was a little embarrassed by the simplicity of the solution to my problems that should have been obvious to me. It has not always been simple to put into practice, however. I have to often take deep breaths and count to ten. But now I’m okay with not being asked to do things. I simply do what he demands and let it go. His impatience I still find a little annoying, but I’m working on that too. And as far as his prejudices, I just turn a deaf ear to it now and let it go understanding that he will never change. This last year has been much more harmonious. And as far as the resentment for being here instead of where I’d rather be? Well let’s just say that I’ve decided that the time spent getting to really know my father (and myself) is worth it. So the point in all this is that when you face problems or difficult people in your life, don’t automatically expect them to change to suit you. Sometimes that is just too much to ask. The one thing you can always change in any equation is you. And if you can’t (or won't) do that, then it is just better to walk away.

Find Your Special Place

Find Your Special Place

  My mom’s oldest sister was married to a man named Moody Davis. They were married for a very long time. Uncle Moody and my aunt Onnie Mae, lived in a very rural part of East Texas.  We went to visit them when I was about nineteen years old and had just started dating the girl whom I would eventually marry.  On hearing that I had finally started dating, (there had been much trepidation in my family about my late start in this rite of passage), Uncle Moody took me out behind the house to a little shed that covered the pump for the water well. Behind the shed he asked me to look around and tell him what I noticed. I looked all around but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. There was the watermelon field that extended from here to the north and the edge of the woods. He used to let my brothers and I take a wheelbarrow out there and pick each of us a melon. We would bust them open and eat just the hearts out of them and have seed fights with the seeds. To the northeast was the fishing pond where I had spent many a summer day catching catfish and bass with my aunt Onnie Mae. To the west were woods where we had often played Cowboys and Indians when we were little.  I can still hear the echoes of their dog, Red, a big Irish Setter, who would run through those woods barking and chasing wild hogs, and then come home and enjoy a saucer of coffee milk my aunt set out for him as a reward. My uncle and I stood there for a long time looking around and not saying anything. I was beginning to get a little uncomfortable because I didn’t know why we were back here in the first place. Finally, he asked me, “Do you love her?” I was embarrassed and just looked down at the ground for a minute without saying anything. “Do you think you might marry this girl someday?” he persisted. The dog and I had a lot in common about then – we both could be accurately called red. I was a very shy kid growing up. But after a little thought, I looked at him and told my uncle what I already knew, even though I had only been on a couple of dates so far. “Yes, I love her. And yes I will ask her to marry me someday,” I admitted quietly. Uncle Moody just smiled and said, “I thought as much.” I don’t know how he picked up on this when no one else in the family had. My younger brothers had already dated many girls and never seemed to be very serious about any of them. He smiled nodding his head and said, “Look down and tell me what you see.” I had been looking down a lot in the last few minutes and had not really noticed anything. But this time, I noticed we were standing on a patch of ground that was bare with no grass at all. The grass was pretty thick all around this four foot square patch of dirt. He said, “See this bare spot?” When I nodded he continued, “This is my special place. When your aunt goes on one of her tears, I come out here and pace back and forth until it blows over.”  Staring at the bare spot, I remember thinking that I had never seen my aunt angry about anything. The evidence to the contrary before me, quickly dispelled that childhood illusion. “Every marriage has its ups and downs,” he told me. “You have to find your special place and go there from time to time if you want your marriage to last a long time like your aunt’s and mine has.” We sat there for a little while longer watching old Red chase some pesky hogs out of the watermelon field letting what he had told me sink in. I learned pretty quickly after I got married that my uncle was right. I did need to find a special place to weather the storms that came more frequently than I had ever imagined. Often, however, my special place is not a physical one. My special places have always been found in a book on some far away planet or dangerous adventure. I went there often anyway, so it was comfortable and always welcoming. I know many would say you should always confront your issues and resolve them up front. But like my uncle before me, it has been my experience that sometimes women just want to argue or fight for no reason that makes any sense to us men at all. It’s times like those when you do need to find that special place and remove yourself from the equation if you want to live to tell about it. If you truly love each other, the storm eventually passes without any input on your part anyway (except for maybe a quick apology - whether you know for what or not – upon your return). So, if you want your marriage to last a long time, find your special place right from the get go and wear the grass down to the dirt if you have to. It worked for Uncle Moody, and it’s often worked for me as well. 

Being Number One

Being Number One

  I recently got in an argument (quite by accident because I really don’t like to do that) about whether or not this country was still number one. You hear that all the time. But are we really? Things seem to be slipping quite a bit as far as I can tell. And the response I get when I point that out is usually, “Yes, but the rest of the world is even worse.” Well, that may be true in a general sort of way, although, I hear Tahiti is nice this time of the year…and all the rest of the year as well. And trust me, I’ve already been told to just leave and go live there then. And I would if I could afford the trip and talk my wife into it. Not likely though. So I will just continue to sit here on the sidelines and watch if you don’t mind. Don’t worry. I’m too old at this point to do anything about it anyway. But I pointed out that we’re really only number one in the amount of money we set aside for our military budget – which is more than all the other industrialized countries combined – and we’re number one in WMD’s. At least so far, and as far as we know. We’re not even close to being number one in a lot of other categories. At least in the positive ones…we are number one in the number of people behind bars. But when I stand back and try to see the world objectively, what I discover is not only shocking but very sad. I see a so-called super power that is already showing signs of aging with a completely compromised government who has been bought and paid for. No longer are they anywhere near to representing “We the People”. Special interest and mostly big bankers have them completely under their thumbs. While they bicker like little children in a sandbox, the barbarians are not only knocking at the gates but pouring in from all sides. It didn’t take Rome long to fall once that started. The worse situation is the whole Petro Dollar fiasco. Our whole economic system is based on Oil. We browbeat and bribed OPEC into agreeing to only sell their oil to the rest of the world using dollars. That is the only thing propping up our economy as we speak. But in the last two decades there was a disturbing trend of countries trying to break away from American dominance and influence, and some of those brave souls starting peddling their oil to foreign countries and excepting other currencies or gold for their goods. If that trend had been allowed to continue, it would mean the utter devaluation of the dollar and the complete collapse of our economic system. Saddam was the first. He paid with his life. The Taliban were next. They had better hiding places so they’re still ducking predator drone missiles. Then Kaddafi had the nerve to start a gold standard to be used exclusively in Africa and was encouraging those countries to leave their dollars and join him. He paid with his life. Now we have Syria and Iran, two neighbors with the same ideas in their heads. Iran is already excepting gold for its oil. The U.S. will not let that stand. The problem is their best friends and customers are China, Russia and India. All of whom warn against any overt action against those two countries. So we’re busy conducting war by proxy. At least so far. It’s a dangerous game we play. Currently, it seems we only have two viable choices: fall into ruin and become a third rate country or start WWIII. Not very good choices for anybody concerned. But are these the only two choices? Not really. We could go cold turkey and give up our oil addiction. Yes, it would mean a major upheaval and necessary overhaul of everything we do. But we and the world would be better off because of it. Are there alternatives to our oil dependency? Of course there are – most of them have been suppressed by Big Oil. A tick sucking on a dog is not going to go away just because you ask it to. But hey, if changing our bad habits and leaving the rest of the world in peace means we have to slip down a notch or two from that coveted number one position on the totem pole for a time, then I could live with that. But for those that insist that we are still number one and have to remain there by any and all means and by keeping the status quo…well I hope you enjoy what’s coming. And, hey, those rose colored glasses look good on you. No thanks, I don’t really like cool aide.

Telling Stories

Telling Stories

  Telling stories probably began as soon as language turned into something other than grunting and pointing.  In fact, it was probably the desire to tell a story that encouraged the creation of language. Pictures on cave walls can only go so far. When you look at history, it is just a series of stories stitched together in an unbroken chain from then until now. The story of man (His Story = History) is by no means all inclusive. Rather it’s just a retelling of what someone determined to be the most important parts – a highlight reel as it were. But each of us is an integral part of the greater tapestry of history, and we all have our own story to tell. History looks at the forest, but I find it more interesting to look at the trees. The story that is you, I find fascinating. I would guess this is a common trait for all would-be story tellers. My story, although interesting to me, would probably be extremely dull to most everyone else. But like every great telling, it has had its moments of drama, comedy, tragedy, joy, and sorrow. Being able to tap in to those elements and use them to create make-believe stories is what makes a good writer. I’m not saying here that I am a “good” writer. But I am a writer of stories that are ninety eight percent imaginations and nothing more. And this is how it is with me. I walk around all day with stories going around in my head. It has always been this way for as long as I can remember. Sometimes it’s distracting. In school, I was often characterized as a daydreamer. I was just “reading” one of my own stories and not paying attention to theirs - teachers tend to hate that. The story I’m working on telling to the world right now is in my head and has been for quite some time. It will be good to finally get it all out there on paper, so I can purge it from the system and start on something fresh. Already there’s this private eye guy getting pushy, banging on the door trying to get noticed. And many others have made appearances from time to time and been given a number just like at the ice cream parlor. Everyone does this. Our brains are very good story tellers. It’s what they do best. It never stops. Every detail your senses take in, your brain makes up a story about it. It’s job as a story teller is to decide if what it has perceived is good, bad, real or unreal, happy or sad, exciting or not, worthy of attention or not, etc., etc. all day long. Even at night while we’re sleeping, our brains are still telling stories. Our nighttime dreams are just echoes of our daytime ones. Some of my best ideas come to me in dreams. The difference in you and a writer, is that he has the audacity (and some would say overwhelming ego) to put these stories on paper and think that others might be interested in reading them. Everyone always asks, where does your inspiration come from for your stories? Writers like to blame a Muse or even temporary insanity. But I think my inspiration mostly comes from everything and everyone all around me. I soak it all in like a sponge. My brain mixes it all up like a good Cajun gumbo and dishes it up to me in a bowl on a nice silver platter. So I give my brain and my environment most of the credit for where my stories come from. But I do recognize there are those sneaky moments when something just pops in there from who knows where that makes all the difference in the world to the telling of my story. Now where that comes from, is still a mystery to me. And even with that thought just now, another story came to me. Imagine, if you would, a being on another plane of existence whose everyday job is to sit by this big machine and feed into it random ideas which it then transmits to unsuspecting recipients  while they’re taking a shower. And one day, ignoring protocol and his bitchy boss, he decides to just put his own crap in the machine and see what happens. Hmm…maybe I should have kept that one to myself?

True Love

True Love

  I watch a lot of movies and, don’t tell anybody, but many of them are the romantic type. Even in the movies there seems to be a lot of confusion about what love really is. I see a lot of people both in these movies and in real life that say they are in love, but they are actually only in a codependent relationship. This is best described as succubi feeding off of each other. Each is in the relationship for what they can get out of it, and for how it makes them feel about themselves. In other words, it is a very self-centered type of arrangement. People in such a relationship can appear to be happy. And when you ask them, they usually do claim to be happy. As long as the other person is giving them what they want they are happy. But is that really love? In a way I guess it is. At least it’s a form of self-love.  We hear a lot about unconditional love. Many people don’t truly understand this type of love until they have children of their own. We don’t just love our children when it suits us or when they behave the way we want them to. We love them unconditionally no matter what. I’ve been a party to and watched many people in the first kind of love, but often don’t see the second type in the majority of cases. Some people say that our pets love us unconditionally. Really? Try not feeding them or keeping them penned up for long periods of time without giving them any attention. It is true that dogs are notoriously unbiased as far as who their object of affection might be. They don’t care about your color, religion, political affiliation, or how big, small, tall, beautiful, or ugly you might be. As long as you provide them with the necessities of life, they will love you. That’s why we humans like our dogs so much. In some ways they are better people than we are. I have also been in a relationship that was one-sided in that I loved unconditionally, however, it was very heart wrenching when I finally realized that it wasn’t mutual. The other person was dependent solely on what I could give them and when it was perceived that maybe they could get more somewhere else – they were gone. At that point in my life, I was sure that I knew what “True Love” was, but I wasn’t sure that anyone else did. I’ve had many experiences since then and relationships both good and bad. I’ve even seen religious couples who claim to have an unconditional love relationship with God and their children, but when it comes to how they relate to each other – well let’s just say it’s not always as it should be.  Oh, I’m sure there are some couples out there somewhere who love each other, their children and God totally unconditionally. I just haven’t met them.  So I’m still just not one hundred percent certain that anyone else out there truly knows what unconditional love means. To love unconditionally one must have love and give love completely without any notion of what’s in it for me. Considerations like, is he/she attractive enough to make others jealous of me, does he/she take good care of me or provide for me, or does being with him/her help me get ahead in life, or any other thing that is focused on the self rather than the other person are all characteristics of the codependent kind of love. Some people even are guilty of this in their expression of their love for God. To them, God is some kind of great Sugar Daddy in the sky, and they only love him for what he might do for them or what he might give to them. I on the other hand decided to give my love to God many years ago, and I ask nothing in return. I only love him as I do my wife and my children unconditionally. Do they love me back the same way? I hope so, but it doesn’t really matter. THE IMPORTANT THING IS TO LOVE…NOT TO BE LOVED. I’m happy to say that my wife realizes this too and feels the same way. So in your own quest for “True Love” here’s a little friendly advice. You don’t have to look any further than your own heart. When you can give away love freely without expecting anything in return, then you are there.

Author Interview: Samuel Ben White

                       Author Interview: Samuel Ben White

This is a new feature for my blog. It's a service I hope to continue in the future. Hope you enjoy learning about the people behind the stories as much as I do. Sam has been kind enough to volunteer to participate in my first author interview. I've read the majority of the books he's written to date and enjoyed all of them. If there's any questions you've been dying to ask an author about the process of writing or what inspires them, feel free to pass it along and I will include it on the next interview.

     Samuel Ben White

1) What possessed a Christian Minister to write a series of science fiction/time travel novels?

            I couldn’t help it.  I have always loved reading (as a child, I wanted to be read to) and was fascinated when I learned I could write stories that other people would read.

            The time travel angle was something I had always been interested in (probably thanks to “Star Trek”) but I also realized we all have things we wish we could go back and do differently.  Whether it’s to change history in a big way like saving a politician from assassination, or just to go back to last year and stop that friend from texting while driving, we wish we could change the past but don’t always think about what might happen if we did.

2) Were you afraid of maybe experiencing backlash from both sides of the aisle for making Jesus one of your main characters in your stories that take place in the future?

            Oh no, you spoiled the surprise!!  Wait, you didn’t tell them which book.  Whew!  Seriously, I did wonder about that, but so far no one has objected to that.  I have, however, gotten a lot of objections for allowing faith into my novels in general.  I wonder if Asimov or Tom Wolfe got these complaints for putting their beliefs in their books?  I did wonder about it, and could even see some objections I might bring up myself, but once I got hooked on it as an element of the story, I couldn’t let it go.

3) Who was the inspiration for your private eye character, Bat Garrett?

            Primarily, it was growing up watching “The Rockford Files” every Friday night with my father.  I wanted to develop a hard-boiled private eye like that, but see him in the days before he’s beaten up by the world and cynical.  I have always loved James Garner’s sense of humor and that played a large part in the creation of Bat Garrett.  Stir in some James Bond, have a mix tape of Randy Stonehill, Pink Floyd and John Williams playing in the background, and out comes a Bat Garrett novel.

4) How do you balance your time as a Minister, Family man, writer, and cartoonist?

            My priority is serving God, which leads me to place my family first on the priority list.  Next, I am a minister and a hospice chaplain.  The others, I fit in around the edges.  All the other ministers I know seem to play golf or occasionally fish, but I like writing and cartooning.  The cartooning is the most fun, but it’s also the hardest because—drawing them for the local paper as I do—I have to have three strips a week.  The writing is something I do when the mood hits me.  These last few weeks I’ve been in a very good mood and have spent almost every moment of free time writing the first draft of a new novel I had never even thought of a month ago.  When those waves come, I jump on them.  And when they go out, I don’t try to force it.  (I know the writer’s courses always say to “write every day” but I figure I’m taking care of that by writing sermons, Sunday School lessons, etc.)  The great thing I’ve learned is: if I’m taking care of what God wants me to do, he provides me with the time to do the rest; whereas if I focus on these lesser things, all things fall apart.

5) Besides the Bible, what is your all-time favorite book? And how about your favorite - movie, TV show, food?

            Favorite work of fiction would be “Bendigo Shafter” by Louis L’Amour.  Favorite work of non-fiction would be “Mere Christianity”.

            Favorite movie would be “It’s a Wonderful Life” with “Field of Dreams” a close second.

            Favorite TV show would be “The Andy Griffith Show”.

            Favorite food is Mexican, especially a good enchilada.

(Today.  Ask me tomorrow and some of these might change!)

6) If you could go back in time, what is the one event in history you would try to change?

            I’ve thought about this so much—and for the sake of my fiction I’ve thought of the ramifications—I don’t know that I would take this chance.  If I could just go back as an observer, I’d like to see Jesus walk on water, Washington cross the Delaware, the Dolphins go undefeated, or my own children being born (I was there, but I was in a daze).

            If this is a set-up where I have to go back and change something, I’d like to just pick the last time I hurt someone’s feelings unnecessarily and go undo that.

7) If you could go forward in time, but could only set the timer for one round trip and then the machine would self-destruct upon your return, how far in the future would you go?

            The day before the end of the world, to see if any of the prognosticators got it right.

8) Of the standard issue sci-fi technologies, which would you most like to have at your beck and call – teleportation, anti-gravity, cloaking/invisibility, FTL, mental telepathy or at least Jedi mind control, phasers, or a wormhole generator?

            Teleportation, without a doubt.  Every day off in the winter I’d beam myself to Breckenridge, CO, ski for a few hours, then back in my bed by nightfall.

9) In the final scene in H.G. Well’s “The Time Machine”, the main character takes five books from his personal library with him to the future. Which five books from your personal library would you take with you?

            The two mentioned above on my favorites list, a Bible, “The Lord of the Rings” (in a single volume) and a book of Peanuts cartoons.  Of course, if I had a solar-powered Kindle …

10) In choosing a path to follow in life, who was most responsible for pointing you towards it?

            My parents.

11) If you were forced to leave the Great State of Texas (heaven forbid!) and had the wherewithal to relocate anywhere else in the world, where would you go?

            Probably to Breckenridge.  It’s our favorite vacation spot—any time of year—so I have always dreamed of living there.  I’ve wondered, though, if the reality of day-to-day living (plumbing problems, flat tires, dreary days, etc.) would eventually ruin it for me.  What makes it great now is that I never have to worry about any of those things when we’re there.

Sam’s webpage where you can find his books:  http://garisonfitch.com/

Sam’s “Tuttles” cartoon page:  http://www.tuttles.net/tuttlesarchive

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B003LBSJ9Y

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B001D2Z5LS                        

Soap Bubbles

Soap Bubbles

I recently read about some physicists theories about the Universe. I have to admit that the ones about string theory make absolutely no sense to me (no surprise there – I’m not a genius, especially when it comes to math). And I can kind of get a glimpse in my mind of what they mean by “brane” theory (short for membrane). But lately there’s been more talk about the multiverse. Getting my head around that concept is like in calculus when they kept harping on imaginary numbers. I just didn’t get it. No one’s ever accused me of not having a very good imagination. But in my imagi-Nation, there are no citizens called imaginary numbers. They’re either real or they don’t exist at all. Just something a bunch of mathematicians came up with to twists ordinary folks brains in a knot, and then laugh when they sit scratching their heads with drool running out of the corner of their mouths. I have a hard enough time getting my mind around the concept of one universe “expanding” creating time/space as it goes. Outside of which…well there is no outside. At least that’s what they say. And if there isn’t, how can you really say something is expanding? Expanding into what from where? It’s all relative after all. I am reminded of a couple of scenes from “Men in Black” where in one there was a whole world inside a locker and another where there was a whole galaxy inside a marble. That is relativity of perspective in a nutshell. Now to the multiverse. What is being theorized is that there is not just one “universe” but many – perhaps even an infinite number of them. And we’re asked to think of soap bubbles massed together – almost touching each other but not quite. And our particular universe would be just one among many of those soap bubbles. First things first. If this is accurate, we need to tune up our language a bit. In particular, we need to be more precise in what we mean when we use the word universe. The word is defined as: the totality of known or supposed objects and phenomena throughout space; the cosmos; macrocosm. Okay then, we need a new word to refer to the individual bubble we happen to be in because “universe” would refer to all the bubbles in existence. Just like when we talk about matter and an individual part of it called an atom. Now there’s some perspective for you. If you think of the infinite multiverse as matter, then we are living on (or in) just one of its atoms (our particular soap bubble). I don’t know which is more mind blowing – down here looking up at the infinite everything or being infinite and looking down at the infinitesimally small me. Either way it gives me nightmares. My big question is this: if there are an infinite number of soap bubbles, and our universe is just one of many nestled together with all the others, then how could we be expanding? Are we expanding into our neighboring soap bubble’s territory? Or them into ours? I at this moment feel like Hamlet did when he said:  “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” So I think it is with all of us. We have little dreams, and reality is so much bigger than a soap bubble.

Ode to My Computer

Ode to My Computer

  I’ve been thoroughly fascinated by all things internet since I got my first computer back in 1994. That first one had 8 megs of memory (which the store owner told me I would never fill up), costs me $2,100, and came equipped with the latest and greatest Windows 3.1. The sound of those old dial up modems firing up and even the static that followed made my day. E-mail was a beautiful thing. I was living in LaVergne, TN at the time (just outside of Nashville), and most of my family was still back in Texas. So now I could keep in touch without running up a big long distance phone bill. Not that I did keep in touch all that much previously, but since my Dad, one brother, my sister, and a couple of my cousins had also recently bought computers, it made it easy and exciting to do. My brother and I soon discovered MIRC chat rooms and it quickly became our favorite place to hang out almost every evening. We had our own chat room called Oasis Bar and had a blast talking to people from all over the world. My fascination with computers and the internet continues even now. Now grant you, I’m no expert on all things techy or software-ish, but I have learned to be pretty proficient at most simple tasks related to computers and have even built a few of them and loaded them with operating systems. So I’m not afraid of trying anything on my computer. I know that if I screw it up to the max, I can always just wipe it clean and start from scratch. So now that I’m back in the land of Mexican Restaurants located on nearly every corner, people that say, “Howdy”, and mucho armadillos, I never ceased to be amazed by some of them that I know who have had computers at least as long as I have. And they still don’t even know how to cut and paste something on theirs. They still don’t even know how to “rip” or “burn” a CD. Yep, that amazes me. But then I know others that don’t have computers and look upon them as almost something evil. They wouldn’t touch one with a ten foot pole. That I don’t get. Now my wife, who shall remain nameless because she doesn’t want her name or picture appearing anywhere on the internet, will use a computer to play games, but that’s about it. I set her up with an e-mail account and sent her a few e-mails just to get her started. That was a couple of years ago. She has never once checked her e-mail and seen that I sent her those original ones. ..she never listens to voice messages I leave her on her phone either by the way – she just sees that I called and calls me back without listening to them. But anyway, talk about cringe when I talk about paying all my bills and ordering things on the internet with my credit card. Why is that so scary? I’ve been doing it for years with no ill effects at all. To me, going to an ATM and withdrawing cash, or writing checks and putting them in the mailbox is a much more risky endeavor. I keep hearing that someone could steal my identity and clean me out. That one makes me laugh. Google the name Robert Landry and see how many hits you get. My identity is way too common already. And as far as cleaning me out – good luck with that one! To get cleaned out implies that you had something there to start with to get cleaned. I almost wish they would steal my identity. Some of my bills would get sent their way in a heartbeat. And I would tell all those pesky telemarketers that, “no he doesn’t live here anymore…try him at…” Anyway, these days I don’t know how I would survive without my computer and the internet. I know there are some potentially bad things and people out there, but I haven’t run across them in the nineteen years I’ve been a frequent visitor of the information superhighway. To me it’s a window to the world. And, from where I spend most of my days, if I couldn’t peek out that window from time to time, I have no doubt I would go quite insane – or at least crazier than I already am. Even now, at age sixty four, I keep learning new tricks on the internet. Blogging is new to me, as is twitter, and facebook.  I know I look up a hundred things every day. And no way I would have written three books without a computer or gotten them out there in at least a few people’s hands. So, to me the internet is the most wonderful, world changing, exciting thing they’ve come up with in…well forever. I won’t put up that big of a fight when they come to get my guns (I’ll still have my bow and swords). But come for my computer and it’s on Jack!

The Lessons of Science Fiction

The Lessons of Science Fiction

  This past weekend, there was an excellent series of episodes of a show called “Prophets of Science Fiction” narrated by Ridley Scott on the Science Channel. He covered all my favorite sci-fi authors from Philip K. Dick to Robert Heinlein, Isaac Asimov, and Arthur C. Clarke devoting an hour to each of these great men. He showed how much of their visionary and fanciful imaginings turned out to very prophetic and are now scientific reality. He gives them credit for ideas that scientists later ran with and made it happen. Most of these ideas were used for the betterment of mankind. Science fiction has always been ahead of the curve with either speculation that seemed to be utterly fantastical at the time, or as cautionary tales warning of the danger that may lie ahead for us if we continue to pursue current trends. One of the first works of fiction that fell in the cautionary sci-fi genre was Mary Shelley’s “Frankenstein”. Another good example of this is “Terminator”. A cautionary tale if there ever was one. The only problem with these is that we don’t seem to be paying much attention to what these authors were trying to tell us. We are at this very moment performing all sorts of experiments with DNA manipulation and modifications even on humans. Mary Shelley would be rolling over in her grave. DARPA is right now developing robots that will think and act independently on the battlefield. Is Skynet very far behind? Is RoboCop next on the agenda? The purpose of robocops being that they would be easily programed to go after me and you without the worry of human compassion getting in the way of them obeying orders. So you can see where I’m going with this and what my concerns are. What good is a cautionary tale if no one is paying attention to it? In the scientific community these days, it appears that it is full speed ahead and to hell with the consequences. Here’s the latest so-called advance that really has me nervous. You can check it out here and see that I’m not just being paranoid.  Go check it out and get back with me:

http://www.dailygalaxy.com/my_weblog/2012/12/swarms-of-tiny-futuristic-robots-to-create-liquid-that-thinks-and-colonize-space.html#more

So, my question is this: Didn’t these guys ever watch “Stargate” when the episodes featured the replicators? Those bad boys wiped out whole advanced civilizations! Or there’s Michael Crichton’s book Prey which is a dire warning against the use of nano-technology. And here we are talking about creating something that sounds just like them with the same capabilities. Anyone else besides me who thinks it might be a very bad idea?

  I love science fiction and always have. My mind has always entertained the question of “What if?” even in my earliest memories. And I also think that advancements in science are often wonderful things that benefit us all. But I hold out that just because we can do a thing, doesn’t always mean that we should.

Settling In

Settling In

  Okay, we’re starting to settle in to this new year, 2013, – that’s just me trying to get used to writing that number so I won’t mess up my next check with the old one. So what’s on our minds these days? Besides, fiscal cliffs, mountains of debt, gun control, and the President making a grab for staying in power forever, what else is there? Let’s see, I’ve heard talk of a new feature in our National landscape called a River of Despair. Really? Anyone know where this new oddity is located? I’ve been looking for it on Google maps. I figured it would be somewhere near the fiscal cliff or that big mountain of debt. But I haven’t been able to find any of them. What state is it in? None of them? Oh, the State of Consciousness you say? Which state is that, and where is it located? Is it anywhere near Wisconsin? Oh, I get it. You’re saying it’s not a physical reality - rather it’s a mental one. Alright then, I like those. I’m pretty familiar with mental realities – well at least the kind that aren’t very real.  The ones that have nothing to do with reality whatsoever are my personal favorites. But you say this river of despair is not a personal one, but rather a national phenomenon. Looking around, I have to admit there does seem to be quite a bit of that these days. Kind of like the flu, it spreads every time someone sneezes. And looking at the problems we face as a nation, I might even see where some of it is justifiable. But you know, one of the hard lessons I’ve learned over the many years of my ancient life is that wasting time on despair is about as useful as entertaining a fear of death. No matter how bad things may seem to be. Despair solves nothing. A fear of death won’t prolong your life one single day beyond its natural course. I am aware that many of you, rather than bob along like a cork on the river of despair, tune it all out and remain blissfully ignorant of the situation entirely. I guess that’s one way to deal with it. It’s just me, I know, but I abhor willful ignorance. Yes there are some awful big problems looming out there that seem to be insurmountable. Despairing about them and a dollar will barely get you a cup of coffee (won’t even come close if you’re in Starbucks!).  I’ve seen “Red Dawn” so I know how this could all end. But you know what, if it does – it does. If we all die at once, so be it. If you read the fine print of your contract, you will see that there was never a guarantee that you would get out of this life alive in the first place. Life is only a short layover on a long, long road. (Don’t ask me why. I don’t know either. But it’s right there in the contract. Wait, you didn’t get a copy? Hold on, I’ll fax you mine.) So, my advice, and new personal slogan, is: BE AWARE –BUT DON’T DESPAIR. 

My Busy Day

My Busy Day

  Some people would laugh at that one. I can almost hear family and friends –“You, have a busy day? Come on, you don’t do anything all day but sit in front of that stupid computer. You’re retired for Pete’s sake. Man I wish I didn’t have to go to work.”  Yep, that’s what I get all the time. They just don’t know. I’ve been retired for a year and a half now. Since I retired, I’ve dusted off an old manuscript and turned it into a book. Then I wrote another one. You can see them both right there at the top of this blog. I’m just about finished with book number three. Am I doing all this in the comfort of my own home? Nope. Monday through Friday I spend at my father’s house which is fifty miles from my house. My father had a stroke three years ago, and I’ve been taking care of him ever since. For a time he was able to manage on his own for a couple of days while I went home to be with my wife. Then six months ago he was diagnosed with colon cancer and had to have surgery. It came out okay, but he’s not in the best of shape since then. Someone has to stay with him all the time now. We hired a couple to stay with him on the weekends so my wife won’t forget who I am. Anyway, I do the cooking and cleaning around here and help him when he needs it. These days he sleeps more than he’s awake, so it does give me plenty of time in front of this computer. I don’t watch much TV and that would keep him awake anyway. So here’s how my day goes. We get up in the morning and I fix coffee and breakfast. He stays up for a little while, but then it’s back to bed for him. I fire up the computer and check all my email…I have three different accounts. I get several newsletters, so I read those first. Then I go to some web news sites and see what’s going on in the world since yesterday. Then I check my facebook page and answer any queries there or make a few smart-alecky remarks just to stir up my list of friends and family to see whose paying attention. If there is nothing there, I leave a quote or two and go about my business. Then I check the alternative news channels and see what the latest conspiracies are…I love those…gives me great ideas for my books sometimes. Nowadays, I also have to go to this blog page and come up with something. Not an easy job! Then it’s off to check on the status of my two books . So far, not much change or movement there. Then I stress over what to do about that. By this time dad is back up and hungry for lunch…I know because he comes rolling up behind me in his power chair and says, “I’m hungry!” and scares the crap out of me.  So I fix lunch, and then wash the dishes. He watches TV for a little while, and then it’s time for his afternoon nap. I crack my knuckles and get back on the computer. I have a whole long list of blogs and websites…you can see most of them right there on the right…that I check up on to see if anything new has turned up there. I read a few of those and then move on. Now its time to really get busy. I open up book number three and try to figure out where I left off and see just where those guys want to go today. It usually surprises me just as much as it does them. I don’t use an outline. I don’t make notes in a spiral notebook. I just sit down and let her rip. To me that’s the fun part. I’m enjoying reading the story as it develops right there in front of me one word at a time. I dread finishing the story. Editing is work. I wish I could afford to pay someone else to do that part of the process. Besides I already have several ideas percolating in my little pea brain for the next book, and I’d rather be splashing those words all over the page than making sure that other one is in good shape. But anyway, I try to keep at it until dad wakes up again. He usually does around four in the afternoon and comes in here for a snack and then more TV. Impossible to write with that going on…he likes it loud! So that’s the time I usually read someone else’s book or head over to twitter and see what’s happening there. The rest of the evening I kinda bounce around between twitter and facebook. Sometimes, after dad has turned in for the night, I will get back to writing at least up until about ten or so. Then it’s off to my room where I will read someone else’s book until I fall asleep around eleven or twelve. Next morning - do it all over again. It is not the way I had envisioned spending my retirement years. And when I started out, I only dreamed of finishing that one book and getting it out there. I don’t know what possessed me to write another one, and then another one. This thing has turned into another job! Not much of a money making job mind you, but a time consuming one. So my days are pretty busy, and I guess that’s better than the alternative. I know lots of people that retired and got bored after a few months. So they went back to work. That ain’t happening here folks. So see you around…I’ve got to get busy!

My Big Toe

My Big Toe

  A brand new year starts today, 01/01/2013. I remember as a kid reading sci-fi books and thinking that 20anything was a long way off, and I would probably never live to see it. I really did expect that, if by some off chance I did, I would be flying around in my aircar. And my personal robot would do all the heavy lifting for me by then. Kind of like the Jetsons, right? Isn’t that how it was supposed to be? Today, I still have to do all the heavy lifting, and I even had to cook dinner for my dad and myself – no personal robot to help out. And my car? That thing wouldn’t fly if I got out and pushed. So, was our optimism misplaced back then? I don’t think so. Optimism is always a good thing and a fine motivator. The trick is not to be too disappointed if some of those lofty goals aren’t met. In that spirit, I never set goals that will be too hard to meet for the coming year. In fact, the older I get, the fewer and fewer goals even bother to show up on my to-do list. This year, I only plan to write more, live more, and love more. All goals that I think are pretty realistic if not so ambitious. With the resolutions chore out of the way, it’s time to move on to loftier matters. My big toe. Don’t get excited…I’m not going to wax poetic about the larger appendages on my two left feet. My big T.O.E. is my own personal Theory Of Everything. If you’ve already read some of my earliest articles on this blog, you already know what some of that theory entails. But let me fine tune it a little for you. I will begin by telling you what I don’t believe. I don’t believe that evolution happens exactly the way Darwin theorized. Too many holes in that one, and it will take some re-evaluation to get it closer to the truth. I don’t believe that scientists are anywhere close to coming up with their own Big TOE. Their “Standard Theory” of the universe (Gravity Based Model) has too many holes in it too – black ones, white ones, etc. Now by denying the validity of those theories, do I have an alternate one, you ask? Well of course. And I know you’re thinking that I will just blame it all on God. But you would be wrong in your premature assuming. I do give a Supreme Creator credit for the fabric of the Universe and the laws that seem to govern forces within it. But that’s as far as I am prepared to go at this point. Our place in that fabric seems to be one of a created consciousness experiencing a “reality” that is anything but real for purposes that have been largely undetermined or misunderstood by us. I do believe that the key to understanding the whole ball of wax is understanding consciousness. Right now we don’t, and the current thinking by our scientists is that it doesn’t even exist. Just go ask Stephen Hawking. And as far as evolution…hey I’ve read Zachariah Sitchen and watched Ancient Aliens on the History Channel. So there are other possibilities other than evolution or God to explain human history on this world. It still doesn’t explain advanced life forms in the galaxy as a whole, however. They had to start somewhere, and those theories of ancient aliens only pushed the question back a step or two. My theory is that God created this fabric – we call it space – and you can think of this fabric as something with infinite potential albeit regulated somewhat by rules we call laws of nature. Our consciousness does the rest creating a universe out of the nothingness of space much like the Matrix or holodeck on Star Trek. You have to understand that nothing we see is “real”. And all our concepts of things like atoms, and photons, and sub-atomic particles are just models that we conceive in our own minds to represent forces that only really exist while we’re observing them. Does the universe cease to exist when I close my eyes? No, of course not. It never really existed in the first place. But even with my eyes closed, my consciousness is still observing, and so is yours and everyone else’s. I imagine that an alien from some distant planet when confronted by the same fabric of space but observing it with different types of sensory capabilities than ours, would describe the universe completely differently than we do. They would never agree with us nor us with them upon the nature of the whole. In that case, who would be “right”? The answer is that we both would be. God, in his wisdom, has allowed for infinite possibilities and variety. And isn’t it a beautiful thing?