The World Can Be Happy

 

What this world needs is something to celebrate, something for which it can be happy.

I have no special influence with the Lord.

I am not the arbiter of the fate of humanity.

The world can be happy for that.

It Ain't the Guns, Folks.

                                                              

It just might be time to break a very long silence, and to point something out: there is a very specific reason there are so many mass shootings in the United States, and it isn’t at all what is being talked about, and blamed for it.

Many are quick to point out that the infamous Columbine incident was not the first mass shooting in the U.S. While that is true, it was the turning point. After Columbine, the problem blossomed like an insidious, thriving thorn patch into what we have today, a titanic consumption of innocents at the hands of an extreme few. Why might that be?

When Columbine happened, I remember agonizing to my wife that blaring an occurrence like that one around the world was downright socially irresponsible. Of course it was news. Of course, we have freedom of speech, and an obligation to cover the news. Oh, sure.

We also have an opportunity to exercise some common sense, and there was far, far worse than none of that, exhibited by anyone at all in the national news media. How is it even remotely possible, that no one but little insignificant me thought that shouting and screaming about it would surely result in copycat repetitions of that horrendous event?

Folks, it’s the politically-charged media, the national news media, that bears full responsibility for the mass shootings that have occurred since Columbine. Sure, there may have been a few anyway. But not in schools, friends.

Lets consider what the perpetrators are. Not who, but what. They are suicidal. Suicides happen every day, all over the world. But some are more than suicidal, they are also very sick, and very angry, and they very much desire attention. What they do is how they get it. The very idea of preying on innocents is the thing that the media has spread, without thought or any sense of responsibility or remorse.

So what we should do, you see, is to remove all of the guns.

It’s nothing but politics.

End of story.

If you want to solve this problem, you don’t have to quash free speech or the media, but large venues should, in fact, be broken up and sold off to people who will abandon political agendas in reporting. ALL political agendas. Do that, and you will see the return of discourse, and reason, and a collapse of the hatred and hard-line bullshit with which deeply divided Americans are fed, every hour of every single day.

Of course, that won’t happen. There are powerful, manipulative people behind all of it. A divided populace is easier to control.

I could never really understand, either, why abortion was ever at issue. The same manipulative jackasses that I hold responsible for the above, are stupid enough to believe that government can and should legislate morality. Could anything be less attainable?

I rest my case. When the conflict has forced peace-loving, freedom-loving citizens into battle lines, that won’t bring about peace, either. There are persons at the top who bear responsibility for this mess. Find those people, ferret them out, and take away their power.

That’s your answer.

A Pome

Make my fuckin' coffee

Fuckin' drink it too

Any fool whut knows 

Knows there's too much shit to do

If I stops an' drinks my coffee

Bad shit will ensoo

So make my fuckin' coffee

An' fuckin' drink it too

Cats

 

I never really wanted a cat.

But no one told the townsfolk that,

And when they wanted their pets no more,

They found their way to my porch, my door.

I am too soft, I cannot hide,

I fed them, then some came inside,

Collected on my floors, my stair,

Took over my table, slept in my chair…

I’ve come to know them very well.

It’s a bit of heaven, and of hell

Fuzzy, soft and often purring, 

 They sleep all day. When I sleep, they’re stirring

It would be great if that was all.

But they fight, and chase, and catter-waul.

You see, they don’t always get along.

‘If you’re different from me, ya don’t belong,’

They all get good food, fine kibble and fish,

Yet some will have trouble approaching the dish.

They’re fussy, reactive, and to be blunt

If they are unhappy, they’ll pee where they want.

So now, I know how God must feel.

Given all that they need, they’ll scrap and they’ll steal

Destroy their environment a day or three hence

And turn half their group into indigents.

But to be fair, cats are not smart.

And I can’t help it, they have my heart

But if I had the nerve, I’d have recourse;

With all that I spend, I could keep a horse.

***

Yet, my prayers are for us, my fellow man,

Because I can feel it, I really can.

It would be nice if I could see

A path that would make us all worthy of “free”

A way I could credit superior brains.

Instead, we are, precisely the same.

 

 

 

Existence

Note to Reader: I needed something to clear my mind from my last tirade. This was it; but please read the next piece as well. It's important, if and only if the right person sees it, and it makes a difference.

Existence

It’s odd, I think, how it came to be.

The wind is back, it’s rustling leaves,

The beauty of the Earth displayed

Beneath high window, now surveyed

By the Queen of All. She’s very small,

Some might think, not a queen at all,

But she knows better, as do I

She purrs approval, expels a sigh.

You see, my father passed away

His spirit resides in Heaven today,

The things he owned are here, with me.

His home, his plants, beloved trees,

Still there but gone, sold to another

He’s left to be with our sweet mother,

But possessions overflow their bounds

Within my home. You see it sounds

Far better than it looks.

Boxes of maybe, pictures and books

Now stacked atop my upper stair;

With no more space, I put them there.

‘Twas a wonderful place for a kitty to go.

When she found that spot, she watched it snow

Trees bent by the wind, the very same one

That today moves greenery, dappled in sun...

And the window is open. Let’s see, did I mention

Surveying a queendom means constant attention

To birds, and squirrels, and bees, and such

And allows little time for else of much.

By now I’ve forgotten what’s in the stack.

I’m sure my Dad won’t need it back,

But a sweet li’l kitty, her world expanded

Fully approves of where it landed.

So for now, or forevermore,

In that same spot those things I’ll store.

Dad might not approve, but it’s really okay

Earthly decisions, behind him today

I can’t say the same, can’t ask what to do

Or how I should feel that his life is through

Though he can still see, and truly, just fine.

When I open my eyes, he sees through mine.

Dumb

Too Dumb to be Civil

      As I write this, it is just five days from the end of April, 2020. I might have said “in the year of our Lord 2020,” but for certain that would piss someone off, in fact, a lot of someones. Fact of the matter is, that’s far too easy to do. No one, but no one is willing to let anyone else think what they actually think, and no one really thinks for themselves any more. It’s a sad, sad situation.

      Also as I write, the economies of nations around the world have actually been to no small degree, shut down over a virus. Over what? That’s what I said.

      I should say, right from the start to all world leaders, thank you very much. You have bought me some time. I am one of those who will probably die when I do contract it, and that is a fairly certain probability. Why? Because you can’t stop it. Sure, in a year you may come up with the vaccine that will immunize a portion of the world’s population...to this particular strain. Of course, as this particular virus has been shown, like most other viruses to be mutating, it will quite likely be a Pyrrhic victory. From Wikipedia: “A Pyrrhic victory is a victory that inflicts such a devastating toll on the victor that it is tantamount to defeat.”

      The really horrible thing about that is, it could actually be solved, truly defeated if only the nations of the world could be civil. You know, like individuals could be, but usually are not.

      But alas, it would be difficult for the same world leaders to facilitate the actual changes that would have to be made. Doing so would be inconvenient, even though intelligent. Those changes might be a potential threat to their power and control, there it is. So it isn’t just that they are too dumb to be civil with other nations, it’s a threat to their honor, to their perceived ability to lead effectively. You understand, ‘what would I actually gain by helping anyone else?’

      This entire thing is not really attributable to one nation or to one facility, or to one market in a single nation. Sure, we have a pretty good idea where it came from. I’m not speaking of from whence it came or how it arose, because it did. Unfortunately, it’s so ridiculous it’s almost amusing; we do not take it seriously when science advises us that odds very much dictate that a near-earth object will certainly strike the planet and end most life on earth. We do not take it seriously when all scientific evidence clearly displays massive and devastating climate change that will doubtless destroy the food supply over time, or when it is pointed out by science that species are being extincted at an alarming rate, indicating that life in general upon this planet is in a general downward spiral. In each and every case there is a way out; but nothing at all will happen to fix anything, until certain people and organizations see there is money to be made if they address it.

      At this point in time, had science been funded properly, we would know just how to protect our planet from most, if not all outside influences. We would already have renewable non-polluting energy sources, whether from controlled fusion or from something else. And we would fully understand the relationship between viruses and the life they affect, allowing quick response and immediate control. Once, in a letter, I advised the current President of the United States, just a remote squeaky voice from a common citizen, that science could not be over-funded. Of course the chances are extremely slim-to-none that he ever even saw it. Someone may have, the letter was probably destroyed by a sorter, end of story. But I felt the need to say it, so I did.

      So here we all are now, facing death. Oh sure, most people who actually contract this virus will survive it. Long-term effects on health are certainly unknown, that’s a story for later, for someone. So if it’s actually not such a big deal, why can I be arrested if I violate the stay-at-home order in my home state? Why must I wear a surgical mask, or some semblance thereof, to purchase food? Why am I legally prevented from associating with anyone? The big question, why is the entire world willing to shut down the businesses, industries and even food-producing infrastructure to prevent its spread? No one is developing any immunity, except those who contract it and survive it. And believe me, few if any of our leaders worldwide actually care if you, personally, live or die. It’s really, truly, all about power, acquisition of it or retention of it. No one wants to be legitimately responsible for deaths in their populace. And that’s it. That’s all.

      Now we come, at last, to my opinion, and I freely admit it’s a pipe dream, because no one actually cares what I think, or what you think, for that matter. Every one of our world leaders needs to be replaced, and every replacement should be a person, man or woman or whatever, who has dedicated his life to science. The money being wasted currently to support those who were put out of work should then flow, at long last, to laboratories and research facilities worldwide. The underlying objective of all scientific organizations should be, as it always and always should have been, cooperation for the purpose of discovery.

      Then, and only then will humanity stand at least a chance of survival in the longer term.

      But you know what? We’re screwed. Because leaders and individuals alike have one characteristic in common.

      See the title of this piece.



Permission is given by the writer to re-publish and re-use this piece in its entirety and without modification.

My Wish for You

     The morning settled over my existence wrapped in crushing, immobilizing cold. The air itself crystallized around me when I stepped into it, to tend to the immediate needs of wild creatures who have come to depend on my support. They do mind the cold but they need to eat, and to drink. I help as I can.

     Like all things of late, it made me think. That can be a dangerous thing, because it isn’t what is around you, but what you take from it. You can take the remaining warmth and envelope your heart with it or you can solidify in the depth of the freeze. You can be deadened by the overcast, or glory in a warming beam of sunlight that finally reaches you. All around me are shadows of the past. In like profusion are the realities of the present, and dreams of the future.

     The past can be a foundation by which the efforts of the present are supported, or it can be a binding weight that prevents a worthwhile foray into the future. Like everyone, my past is mottled with both pain and pleasure. I dearly love to remember the pleasures and I deeply miss so much of it, knowing without so much as a wraith of doubt, I will never see most of it again in my lifetime. But, there are two positives to tip the scale in my favor, one, the pains experienced are also in the past, which means they are no more. The other is the certainty that I have not experienced anywhere near all of the pleasure and promise that I may. If I want to, I’d better prepare for it, rather than to stagnate among the painful memories that compose the darker side of a mottled past.

      Who we are and who we may become is only partly controlled by choices we make. I scoff at the fairy tale that proclaims “happiness is a choice.” It isn’t unless all choices are mine, and they certainly are not. I am but one person, and can use only what I have to fend off those who care not at all if I live, die, prosper or perish. I could not control the actions or decisions of a spouse. I cannot control the actions or decisions of anyone, not a lover, not a friend, not an enemy, certainly not my children. If I am diligent, I may be able to control my own.

     That is my goal. Let it overspread my existence, lift up my life, enable my finest efforts and raise the overall outlook of humanity upon this earth.

      I wish for you, precisely the same.

The Bumbly-Bee

 

 

 The Bumbly-Bee

My life has been long, I’m an old man, you see

I’d set up a ladder to trim an old tree,

‘Twas late in the spring, and the tree was in blossom

As happens when this guy behaves like a possum,

Yes I’d put it off, and now wanted it done.

Put on a broad hat to protect me from sun,

My body ached, as slowly I climbed

To finish the job at least, one more time.

I began snipping, in warm breeze and sun

Soon losing myself in this task I’d begun.

I’d hardly noticed, that tree was a-buzz

With bees of all kinds, just doing their stuffs,

Collecting the nectar, but I didn’t care

Till a bumblebee hovered before me, and stared.

Now quickly I realized that I’d snipped the branch

That bee had been on, by complete happenstance.

Perhaps I’d offended, removing her flower

Of course I was bigger, but she had the power,

She circled and landed, my neck she then stung,

I lurched and I swiped and my clippers I flung

Sensation of falling, crushing thud to the ground

Then darkness; then rising, then sunlight, and sound;

A buzzing, ‘twas me, as I hovered on high

I was free, ‘twas me, now a bee in the sky!

I considered, that fall, man, that was some pain,

But looking back now, I’d do it again,

To know once more the sensation of “free,”

Of dipping and diving as a real bumblebee!

For a moment, I was flustered. How on earth could this bee?

A man lay there, beneath that tree

The ladder askance where I once had ascended

Before I’d been stung, and my body’d ass-ended

So that’s how it goes, I thought, that’s how I die;

But I felt no remorse, for now, I could fly,

Euphoric and free, ‘twas just as it was

My wings beat softly, created the buzz,

I’d never thought much of reincarnations

Nor what it must feel like, this creature’s sensations,

Much less the condition, a world once extraneous

Nor that one’s rebirth could be instantaneous!

But I didn’t mind at all, no no!

All that mattered was “Go! Go! Go!”

I could fly! I could fly! I shot straight up then

And all I wanted was to do it again.

I can say this now, I recall that feeling

That even a bee has a very real ceiling,

But I know I was there, saw a hawk passing by,

Assessed where I was, ‘cuz it gave me the eye,

So earthward I dove, in a widening spiral

If this were a vid, thought I, this would go viral...

But soon, I suppose, inevitably

I settled down to becoming a bee.

All I can tell is what I recollect

There was one job to do, which was to connect

With nectar in flower, a task to do,

For little else mattered, no, I simply knew,

This life spanned one season, a duty was mine

Serve queen, serve colony, work all the time,

But work it was not, not a care in my life,

No money, no status, no crazy ex-wife,

True meaning, direction, and ultimate peace

Bright sun, soft breeze, white clouds of fleece…

But there must be an end to this picture I paint.

For I know, only God could make me what I ain’t.

And He did that for me. I know just why,

For my eyes have been opened; the Earth and the sky

These didn’t just happen, they’re here for a reason.

The day, the night, the planets, the seasons,

Life as it is, both good and bad

I’ve surely seen both. What a life I’ve had!

I considered, then, in pain on the ground,

Forever I’ll miss that freedom, that sound,

One summer I lived the life of that bee.

Ever working, then fading, less agility,

Then quietly passing, feeling I was still free

Knowing I would be back, hoping yet as a bee.

But when I awakened, the sun was still high,

I rolled myself over and stared at the sky,

What had happened, I wondered,

Then put it together;

I laid there in silence, and thought, could it be

I really had lived as a bumbly-bee?

Well yes, yes I did. But now I’m back here;

As a bee, for sure, there’s no pizza, no beer,

No tobacco nor nookie nor other things human,

Just great strength, and peace, and the blooms as they’re bloomin’-

So now I must say, and it comes from my soul,

Humanity’s dug itself one great big hole.

We may live on as a fish or a bear,

Or a deer or a whale, I really don’t care.

And if we awaken as some other being

What do you suppose we will find?

We’re here, you see, as stewards behooved,

And if we can’t play, then we’ll be removed.

So silly we are! Imagine the way

We carry this selfishness through each day

Seldom seeing this world that sustains.

It’s home to far more. I’ll say it again;

The night is as day with stars a’ glistening,

But you, my dears, shall not be listening.

So record I, from this hospital bed

Knowing someday, I will be dead

And so shall you; and you, and you.

Let’s get it right.

It’s what to do.

*****

2018

Benjamin Trayne

It's a New Day After All

So I’ve been very quiet for a while, and maybe I’ll be quiet once again for another long period of time, after this. I love flexibility, and choices, and freedom. God knows no one is really ever free in this life, but there can be periods of time when we can actually experience some degree of real freedom, at least, relative to the norm for most people. I’ve just lived about ten months of it, apparently with more to come. And it has truly been something else, more than something different, to such an amazing degree of ecstatic living that I have to wonder if it can continue, even for another day. And what if I’m right about that? I guess I’d better write it down. It would be a shame if no one ever knew.

For a few periods of time in my life, I did indulge myself before this, with pursuits that were for the purest of pleasure, it’s true. But the many long hours spent laboring and discovering in my makeshift darkroom or in the field taking photographs, or the even longer hours creating written works, have all paled compared to these past ten months.

Although I missed some companionship I had enjoyed before this period, I have met a lot of people. Although the sense of accomplishment I once received from completing difficult or challenging work is now gone, I have been astounded at how much more I receive from simply living, breathing and taking the time to absorb what has always been around me. I take photographs incessantly now, I have time to really look at and to be amazed by the wildflowers, time to search for the ideal pastoral scene or delicate, feeding butterfly or lichen-encrusted mineral, tossed aside because it was an unwanted rock in some farmer’s field perhaps two centuries ago. I’ve walked in ancient wagon-tracks in the forest, forded wet-weather torrents, stopped to watch browsing deer that remained unaware of my presence, explored old overgrown roads and animal trails unseen by any in the recent past, save for the hardiest of hunters. At long last I’ve had both the time and the wherewithal to upgrade and repair my home, I’m sure my neighbors are astonished if not disbelieving. For the first time in decades I literally feel alive, cognizant of my surroundings, am amazed by the changing skies by day and the glittering content of the heavens at night.

All of this became a part of a new life for me simply because my job went away. Sometimes I lay awake and wonder if it could possibly be fair that I can live this way, for however long while others still participate in that daily grind. Then I wonder how many have never had to participate in it, and I wonder if those few even possess the ability to appreciate life as much as I have these past months. I wonder how long I will be able to maintain it. Finally then, I wonder if the reason it has been this way for most of a year is because it is about to be my last; that I may have been afforded this long look at the world for a good reason. Certainly I have no evidence to support that notion, but neither have I any explanation for why it has been this way instead of that.

So far it has been an amazing year. I have new dreams and new hopes and new ideas, I can see potential I had never before imagined, a veritable kaleidoscope of colorful possibilities. The typical imperfections of everyday life that do exist can be overcome, most with ease.

I am keenly aware, there are those who would take all of it away just because they would rather no one had it. I know there are events and deeds occurring every day all over the planet that stretch from the unmentionable to the heinous, many of which have the potential to erupt as life-changing for just about everyone. In the course of my long life I have learned that while it may be difficult to live while trusting no one, it is the far safer path. I will not be an easy hit for anyone.

In conclusion I intend to continue this for as long as I can, plainly and simply. The things I will do may not suit many beyond myself, but I cannot afford to care. I don’t have any reason to believe I am deserving of this time, but I’ll take it, am deeply grateful for it, and I fully intend to make the most of it. It has often been pointed out that the sun will rise in the morning. But how many actually notice?

Life has at long last begun.

More Common Sense

It was long ago, and far away. I was working an extra, part-time job to help keep food on the table. I’ve done so for many years. I don’t remember the discussion that led up to the remark. The rest of the conversation, I’m sure, wasn’t that memorable.

“Shee-it, I hate cops,”my co-worker seethed.

“I hate cops too,” I agreed, as I pushed a board across the table.

“You?! Really, man?”

My co-worker didn’t need to feign surprise. After all, he was black, and I wasn’t. He was in his twenties, and I wasn’t.

I stopped what I was doing, putting a hole in the production line at the risk of getting some personal attention from the shift manager.

“That’s right, bud, me. I have a deeply fundamental problem with anyone who thinks he’s better than anyone else.”

“Right! And that’s the blueprint for a cop!”

I had made a friend.

I’m quite a bit older now, but I still think about that exchange from time to time. The fact that my agreement struck a chord is unfortunate, although I've always understood why it did. I’ve never had a run-in with the police personally, but I’ve had conversations with them, to be sure. I don’t care much at all for condescending personalities. It seems as though candidates for officers of the law are selected based on physical size, and unfortunately, attitude…a dominant one. Luckily, with age has come a necessary change of mind. Cops have tough and very often dangerous jobs. They get to see the ugly underbelly of humanity, and no mere human could do the job and remain unaffected by that. As a group, they know they aren’t well-respected or even well-paid, regardless of the challenges they face. For the most part it's a thankless job. I don’t think I could handle being a cop, and I’m not interested in the least in trying to be one.

But despite my change of mind about police, the problem of people looking down on other people has been a very persistent one, and one that desperately needs to be addressed. I see and feel it on a daily basis, I’ve been judged for my lack of personal wealth once again and quite recently, and I'm damned sick and tired of it. And thus, this piece was born.

It's my observation that people form circles, like wagons in a train. It doesn't matter who they are or where they came from. It's a social phenomenon; it's kinsmanship, but it's also exclusion. Think of it as a precursor to racism, or elitism, or sexism, to name a few of the countless “isms” that plague humanity. On the one hand it seems to be a natural occurrence, something to which we are all entitled. On the other, it perpetuates differences of opinion and amplifies divisions that the family of man could very easily do without.

In the thirteenth century, the first known use of the term "noblesse oblige" occurred. It wasn't a new idea even then, but the French at least distilled it down to just two words. Its basic meaning is that "nobility obligates." It was a step in the right direction, but being just two words it did not address anything specific, just a general idea that the privileged nobility bore a responsibility to those who were, well, not nobility. In particular, it did not advise the privileged to exercise civil, respectful behavior toward the less-privileged, so as not to come off to the rest of the general public like a complete horse's ass. It’s an idea that would have been an extremely helpful inclusion in the thirteenth century. Eight centuries later, the need still isn’t grasped by nearly the entirety of the wealthy, or even the vapid pseudo-rich who are just a bit more well-off than the average citizen.

Recently I had the displeasure of reading just a part of an entire book (I wasn't about to finish it) that attempts to defend elitism. It won't take a book to destroy the notions that book exposes.

Throughout American history, the so-called “elite” have been dragged, kicking and screaming, through each of the reforms that have brought our populace just a bit closer to becoming a civil, democratic society. Elimination of slavery, at least, visible slavery. Ouch. Damn. We'll get back to that one. Labor unions, that at long last provided a voice to the common man. I know nobody alive remembers the “company store” where workers were once required to “spend” their “paychecks,” which were actually only vouchers, given in return for back-breaking, dangerous work. Men who could barely feed their families thus were expected to appreciate the great favor of having a job. “Equal” voting rights. And so on and on. Elimination of discrimination, in employment, education, or housing? It's a work in progress, believe it.

This nation was built entirely on the backs of slaves and underpaid laborers. Its independence was won and its interests have been defended entirely by way of the myriad sacrifices of common citizens become soldiers, while often, the wealthy bought their own way out of the conflicts from which they would profit. If the leaders we have were suddenly and mysteriously to vanish from the face of the earth, others from among our massive, talented populace would step up to lead, and I believe that if it actually occurred it would be of great benefit to us all; for those among us who are most fit to lead just happen to be those who don’t wish to.

But the great bulk of the more privileged among us still tend to think that anyone who is not so privileged, by definition and lack of means is an unworthy moron, and that of course means that they themselves have the better plan for all of the rest of us. To those of you who believe you are part of the “elite,” allow me to ask you: How are the masses supposed to feel about that fact that in this society, the influence purchased with your money has usurped the guaranteed representation that we as United States citizens are supposed to enjoy? How should we feel about the prevalence of crime, allowed to some degree because it profits you? About the fact that slavery still exists, all over the world, including in this country? That there are still homeless people in the streets, that some among us have gone completely uneducated, and that many are still hungry? If I'm right, you don't feel a lick of responsibility for any of that, or for any other injustice or shortfall of our so-called civil society, at all. None whatsoever.

But, hey. Good job. We should all listen to you.

I do understand, though. If I'm so smart, why am I not rich?

I have an answer. I don't care at all for your fucking money. True, I don't have it. Egalitarian arguments aside, if having money means that I would become like you, then I damned well don't want it.

All of this is a big part of the reason the movie Fight Club is so special to me. It isn't that I want to eliminate civilization and to completely return to an age of hunting and gathering. I love it because this short monologue is part of the script:

“Look, the people you are after are the people you depend on. We cook your meals, we haul your trash, we connect your calls, we drive your ambulances. We guard you while you sleep. Do not, fuck with us.”

The truth is, there are no “elite” people. There are only those who think they're elite. The surer they are of their special status, the farther from any actuality of it they are. Such persons are not to be feared nor certainly, in any manner revered. They are fooling only themselves, and are only to be pitied.

***************

Over the Next Rise

     

      I just sat there in my car for for a while, head down. I had ten minutes to go before I needed to start on another ten-minute walk from the parking lot to my destination, my job, but didn’t feel like bothering. I expected I would...but why? Was there any point? In anything?

     I'd reached a place where I didn’t want to be, not physically but emotionally. There was trouble, and I had no idea what to do about it. I hadn’t lost anything, at least, not recently, but the foreseeable future didn’t bode well at all. After weeks of brooding about all of it, it seemed like a tipping point had been reached. It seemed as though I was about to lose control of, well, just about everything.

     And I was all but certain that I just couldn’t do it.

     Do what?

     Go on. Continue.

     I’m well aware that sounds serious. It was.

     For a Monday, the parking was unusually sparse. I've always tried to get the particular parking space I was in, and I couldn’t exactly say why, except that I prefer it. My hand covered my forehead and my eyes as I slowly shook my head. When I finally took my hand away and raised my head and my gaze, I beheld again the scene that now appears with this piece. The photo was taken with a phone camera more than a year ago; the view had just struck me as being picturesque. But suddenly, it was quite a bit more than that, as I considered what I was seeing.

     Work was to my back, and the rising hill before me blocked the view of some unknown area beyond. I had never walked to the top of the hill to see whatever there was to see. I don't want to, at least not yet. It isn't that I'm not curious, it's that I do not wish to remove that small portion of the unknown from my perception of that scene. I knew what was behind me, the means of making the living that supports me. When I leave that place forever, I may exit over that rise, on foot.

     I considered quietly, as I began to feel a bit better, life is like that. It's a process, a journey. We all live through some tough times, and it's possible that if we knew what was coming, we would be unwilling to go forward to meet it. But we don't get to know, and that's key to existence. We dream and hope and plan, knowing that some things will work out while others won't. No one can knock the props from beneath us if there are no props. I got out of my car and stood on the pavement, both feet firmly on the ground. The world may be moving about me but I'm steady where I stand. I'd done nothing wrong, it was the things that others have done or will do that had unsettled me. Yes they had affected my life, and will continue to affect my life; but like money it isn't everything, by any stretch of the imagination.

     Joie de vivre. Appreciation of life. Peace of heart, which eventually should lead to genuine peace of mind. I turned and headed on toward my workplace.

     When I was a younger man, I used to take off and drive, sometimes for a full day, traveling aimlessly and with no set destination. I took no maps along and there was no such thing as GPS. I covered hundreds of miles and then relied on highway signs to get me to some point closer to my home, often getting back long after nightfall. The objective was to learn about my surroundings. How quickly did the landscape change? How did other people in nearby towns or cities live? What did their surroundings look like, and how did those places compare to where I lived? What should I expect from the world, and from my future?

     That was a long time ago. I've traveled much greater distances, knowing where I was headed and how and when I would return. I haven't seen the whole world but I've seen enough to be confident that it's all there.

     But of course, I don't know what the future holds. I don't know exactly how I'll live or how I will die. But I'm confident that my place in the world belongs to me, and that I have a right to it. I'm confident that if I don't have a single thing to call my own, I will still be able to move on and to advance over that next rise. Beyond it, I will find something I've never seen before.

     And isn't it wonderful, not to know what it will be?

     When the next weekend arrives, I'm going for a hike in the countryside.

                                                                *****

Survival Bacon

 

 

Let’s just see how well you absorb what you read.

I wasn’t out on the road long at all, the other morning, when I passed a tiny fast-moving automobile. I recognized it immediately as a seldom-seen Austin-Healey “bug-eye” Sprite. I hadn’t reached the open highway yet but the other driver seemed intent on tripling the thirty-five mile-an-hour speed limit, as the growling engine wound up to a scream. As I was on my way to work and the guy was headed toward the residential area I had come from, I wondered, did this guy have a day off or was he, perhaps, independently wealthy? Top down in the morning mist, wearing a baseball cap and revving the heart out of the engine of a rare and expensive sports car. What a life, right? Must be nice.

My drive to and from work is fairly long, and I had time to think - almost always a dangerous thing to be doing. Like most people who should probably know better, I did it anyway. The topic of nearly the entire drive that morning became, generally, the many things about the world and about people that I do not understand.

For example, we all know, or should know, that the planet is warming. I know a whole lot of meteorologists and earth scientists, and some time ago I began asking their opinions. None of them ever disagreed that it is. There isn’t room or time enough here to get into the silly argument about why it’s warming, in part because it doesn’t matter why. If you can’t accept that humanity is behind it, then try to accept that the massive daily release of hydrocarbons to which we all contribute, isn’t helping.

So tell me, why are all of the full-sized pickup trucks manufactured today, one and a half times the size and weight of full-sized pickups of two decades ago? If it isn’t style, then what the hell is it? Don’t bother to tell me about the fuel-efficiency of newer vehicles. For the most part, it’s pure hype. That means, in plain language, it’s not just a lie, it’s a damn lie.

I should think that most of us have seen the videos of glaciers breaking up and dropping into the sea, and the time-lapse maps of formerly ice-covered areas that are now dry land. Instead of embracing the obvious direction and inevitable effects of unstable weather patterns and ocean-inundated coastlines, we buy bigger and more powerful vehicles. And we drive faster. Pretty much all of us do it. A few of us have hybrid vehicles, or fully electric vehicles that plug in and recharge. Foolish people. Energy conversion from coal or gas-generated steam to electricity is inefficient. Then we convert it back to mechanical energy, thinking we’re helping to save the planet. More inefficiency. I’ve got news, your carbon footprint is enlarged by your electric car, not reduced. I’ve little doubt that you’ve heard it here first. That doesn’t make it untrue.

I do understand that young people entering the workforce are underpaid. Anyone who believes that economic globalization hasn’t exerted great downward pressure on wages in the United States is a damn fool. So who is it that buys, and runs, those motor homes built on a Mercedes chassis? Good heavens, could it be you former hippies, you ultraliberal-types who now happen to have the cash?

I admit, I have and drive a car every day, myself. But I still don’t understand. Instead of seeking change or demanding change or voting with our wallets when we make a purchase, it looks a lot more like a final party before the collapse of civilization. Former hippies should be good at that.

Our inconsistencies are reflected by far more than the vehicles we drive or how we drive them. Recently I went for a haircut, and the sporting goods catalog from the ‘zine table in the barbershop contained an item that actually made me laugh out loud. I had to explain that to the somewhat overweight barber, who didn’t seem to be nearly as amused by it as I was. I wonder why.

“Survival Bacon!” The ad read. It’s in a sealed can, there’s a lot of it in that single can, it keeps for ten years, and it’s the real thing!

Well now I can’t speak for anyone else, but I haven’t eaten a strip of bacon for decades, and I’m still alive. If I can believe anything at all about the effects of fat content and saturated fats and processed meats, in fact, I will probably live longer without it than with it. If I’m packing away subsistence foodstuffs for an apocalypse, there probably won’t be a single can of “survival bacon” in there. But, hey. I’ll bet they’re selling literally tons of the stuff. Thus came a shift in my thinking, away from things I didn’t understand. So maybe I do understand, after all, about everything. It isn’t about the planet, folks. It’s about the money. Well, now. There’s a surprise.

There is someone out there, or a team of someones, whom we all need. We need to find and identify the person or persons who are responsible for the marketing effort behind bacon. What a job they’ve done! It doesn’t seem like it was that long ago when bacon was universally recognized as a food that is bad for you, that clogs arteries and increases cancer risk and weighs heavily against long-term functioning of the human heart. Today there are “memes” on the internet about “keeping” those women who are willing to serve their men bacon and beer. It used to be beer and peanuts, folks. Now it’s beer and bacon. Oh, I know it tastes good, I remember that, but it isn’t addictive. We need the people who have effectively popularized it to turn their attention toward popularizing new funding for science, because honestly, good science is humanity’s only hope.

But since it’s all about the money, and frankly, all about the self, there would probably be no point at all in expanding my written observations into the world of privacy, which actually left our world some time ago. All efforts to stem the loss of it were stopgap, totally ineffective, poo-pooed and minimized, and that battle has been lost. A geoscientist informed me that the polar bears are fucked too, his words. No efforts will be made to control or correct our carbon-emitting excesses until someone important loses money over it.

Things will never change, unless we make them change.

So, as I at long last turned into the parking lot at my workplace, one final thought arose in my mind that I still don’t understand.

What the hell was keeping that guy’s baseball cap on his head?

 

 

 

 

 

Photo credit: Foter / CC BY-SA

Every Day Above Ground is a Great Day

Remember That.

Why would anyone write, you might ask, if you can paint? Well, I can’t, that’s one reason. At one time, I’d like to think, I was a pretty good photographer, but the frustration of missing shots eventually got to me. Stop the car, grab the Bronica, point, wait, get out of the car, shit, it’s gone! That’s why I write! Because once in a while a moment arrives and it’s a sparkling jewel of a moment, and if you can keep it together long enough to write it down, you can preserve it.

That’s what this is about.

People say, shit happens, and brother, that is so true. It just keeps coming, falling from the sky, boiling up from somewhere below, crap from anywhere, messing things up. You’re good if you can step out of the way, but sometimes the turd trajectory is just unavoidable. It happened to me, gotta face that.

But the road of life is extensive, thank you, and the path behind me is getting to be pretty long. Admittedly there are always new situations to dodge, and thus I am never bored. You think you’ve seen or heard it all but you can never really get there. Someone or some thing will always step up and prove you wrong. And so once again, someone and something has.

I can tell this piece is destined to be a short one, but it’s an important one. At least part of the point is that nothing is ever completely controllable, even those few things that are a part of your life and no one else’s. It has honestly been decades since I’ve tried to reach beyond the events and circumstances of my own life, but I can see I won’t get credit for that. Have I tried to change things? Of course. Have I tried to help people? You bet. In my present state of mind, I’m afraid I can see a bit of harmful futility in even that. Yeah, I got hammered. For a full day and night, I felt like the shit that had hit the fan. Splattered.

However this evening I found myself dancing to Latch while I prepared my supper. A series of thoughts and notes had gone down on paper, so to speak, in my brain. And I knew for sure, everything was gonna be alright. In fact, life is truly great. It was a shining moment.

If anyone at all knew the challenges, that statement would carry a lot more weight than I’m sure it does. I’ll spare you because I’m completely sure you have your own. For my part, some things have just fallen into place like the tumblers in a high-quality lock. That happens too, thank God. Actualities? Not all of them, but if they aren’t then they are attitudes, and in my experience that means the actualities will follow.

Now just in case someone I know happens to read this, which admittedly is somewhat unlikely, nothing else has changed. I have friends and family and I still care about each and every one of them, quite likely much more than any of them will ever know. I wish I could do things or say things to bring that point home, but honestly, I can’t manage even that. And yet, be advised...

The distance between a problem and its resolution is always much less than it will initially seem. I know there’s a plan, I know there’s a place, and I am on my way there, as surely as everyone and “every thing is on its way to somewhere.”

I’ve lifted the last few words of that previous line from whoever wrote Phenomenon, a 1996 movie that starred John Travolta. I’ve lifted my title from a song by Pitbull and Ne-Yo, along with part of my point, that “everyone is goin’ through somethin’.” I wish not to plagiarize in any way. Both are part of the beautiful resolution that has enveloped me like a huge velvet glove.

Whether you know it or not, that big glove is a fit for you, too.

*************

Food for Thought

There will be nothing for your heirs if our species does not survive.

            Perhaps it was an uncommon swirl of cream in my morning coffee, or perhaps it was the gossamer swirl of altostratus wisps in a blue sky, observed as I entered the on-ramp of the local bypass. Who knows? Maybe it was even the missed breakfast, the one I didn't have time to prepare.

            I've written a lot of things, all of them products of observations, past experiences and a productive imagination. I've been advised by one who is more experienced than I that I should write something every day. I can't; maybe I'm different, but for my part I must have something in mind about which I feel an overpowering need to write. And yet, for some time, possibly for all of my life, I've felt that there was something to be written for which I had to prepare. I've waited, puzzled and wondered if there was anything of substance behind the notion, or if it was only vanity. This morning, some of the pieces seemed to fall into place. I began to think about the meaning of infinity - the “physical” kind of infinity, rather than the mathematical.

            It isn’t something I think about constantly, although the staggering expanse of the universe, of which we are a tiny part, enthralls me every single day.

            Recently I watched a documentary about the Hubble space telescope, an amazing technological achievement with a difficult beginning. Some time after it was made functional, its full attention was trained on a seemingly blank portion of the sky for an extended period of time. The objective was to find out how many stars were actually in that space, however distant, that the Hubble might possibly detect over that period. The result: three thousand previously unseen galaxies. That effort was upstaged a few years later, with an image revealing ten thousand. Said one authority, “It was looking at one small piece of the sky, the equivalent of the view through a soda straw.” Well folks, that’s what is out there. I admit, I’m a dreamer; but consider the odd similarity of atoms to solar systems. Tell me, is it just a fractal-like repetition that goes on forever, or might electrons actually seem solid, if one could exist at that level? What if, just what if, there is no end to the levels, such that our solar system is an atom in a much larger existence? And that the beings and planets and stars of which that is a part, are also atoms? Well okay, maybe I’ve carried the imagination thing just a bit too far. How very unscientific of me.

            But what if I haven’t?

            Might such a realization alter your perception of the meaning of “infinite?”

            By whatever means necessary, we believe, we will eventually crack the code. We will advance to a full understanding of physical existence. An object with the predicted properties of the Higgs boson, sought for so long and at such massive expense, has been found. The Standard Model suggests that this object is responsible for all mass in the universe, prompting some to refer to it as “the God particle.” And I must agree with the viewpoint that we shall prevail, given that we will survive as a species for a sufficient period of time.

            So. We dare to imagine a God particle. Imagine that. And I realized, there is nothing, nor could there ever be anything, that humans will not dare.

            Having reached that realization, I checked my watch, noted my progress on the highway,  and re-entered my bubble of thought, which had inevitably been invaded by consideration of the human condition.

            We dare. How magnificent that is! But that “sufficient period of time” haunted me, as it always has. Would that a similar expenditure of human endeavor be applied to ensuring our survival as a species. Extinction of species appears to be an entirely natural process, and that needs to be addressed. By any true measure, we are gods; and yet, many of us cannot even keep food on the table. We are at the very mercy of our home planet. We are certainly not the masters of it, by any stretch of the imagination.

            To those among us who have succeeded in acquiring an excess of money and of possessions, be advised...we are, at least, masters of our fate, not individually, but as a whole. There will be nothing for your heirs if our species does not survive. There are steps to be taken.  You must measure your wealth and determine what portion of our rescue is yours to assume. It seems to me, education could be the fallback priority. To those among us who have not acquired wealth, you have a stake in this that is not one whit smaller. There is something for every individual to do. If there is nothing else you can do, please allow me to suggest that education might well be the fallback priority; any kind at all for anyone at all, including you.

            And there you have it. The realization for which I had been waiting seems so simple to me now. It will never do for just one, or ten, or a hundred or even a million to come to the same realization. Let not those few who have dismissed the possibility of our long-term survival become our prophets of doom. There is a massive, beautiful universe out there to be discovered, and explored, and populated. There is treasure in knowledge and understanding. None of that will have any value at all to a species that has ceased to exist.

            So perhaps it was the swirl of the cream in my morning coffee. Or perhaps it was the gossamer swirl of altostratus wisps in a blue sky. But whatever it was, perhaps, just perhaps, it led to a realization that should not be ignored. Perhaps there is someone, out there, who has been watching, and waiting for it to come.

                                          **********