Creative Endeavors

Sunday’s paper had an article in it, “Who Are The Happiest People?”  It said that the happiest people are the people who make $100,000.00 per year in income, attend regular religious services, and are Republicans.  I thought to myself, “give me the one hundred grand, and I will register Republican and we will give it a shot!” 

Sunday was an up/down sort of day.  A sugar enhanced ride on the roller coaster of physical discomfort to say the least.  I also discovered that the banana chips that I was munching on for a snack, contain 14 grams of sugar, which is not good for me.  Say goodbye to an old friend Bucko, you cannot have these anymore … another one bites the dust, spit it out and live!

Took all the aluminum cans to the recycler yesterday and that was just plain horrible.  First I got there ten minutes before they opened and ran into some rude employee, which did not help my mindset at all.  But when you get to thinking about it, “you are working in a metal recycling center at more than likely min. wage” why would you want to be nice or in a good mood to anyone? 

About eight o’clock all the drug addicts, methamphetamine freaks, and the bottom feeders of society show up with everything from spools of wire (who knows where they got it?) sections of brass pipe, air conditioners, to an aluminum ladder of all things.  Somehow I just know that somewhere, someone is sitting in a leaky house, in the dark, and it is hotter than you know what.

Lines were long, unruly, socializing and discussing the day, was not an option. 

And then the cursing started and it was just awful, I cannot stress how bad it sounded.  So with the rude dude, and then the cussing, I decided to go somewhere else.  I took it to Standard Metal and accepted two dollars less, but it was worth it, I figure.  They were paying ten cents a pound less, I had 19 pounds, so it all cost me about $1.90 but I didn’t have to listen to the garbage or put up with the —- . 

Ended up with $11.90 for the 19 lbs.  Which is about one meal at the local buffet with the Senior Discount.

There is an old saying that says that with each encounter, you take something away from it, good or bad.  I do believe that this is true.  I saw today that I am doing okay, I am not addicted to anything, I don’t NEED to be at the recycler for the money, I just do it to pick up some lunch money every now and then. Figuring I should get the pocket change and not donate it to the City. 

Looking at these people this morning, observing them in their condition of need and despair, gave me new insight to my life, and how good I have it.  I am doing okay, it could be a lot worse, and I should be more thankful for the gifts and blessings that God has bestowed on Cup Cake and I.  If anything, it made me wonder:

Where does hope go, when you give up, and your dreams die?

Is it our problem if some people have more of a chance in life, than others?  How many people day-dream about starting all over?  To move to a new locale, where no one knows you.  New people surround you, new places, new faces, even different smells.  How many people long to be debt free, unencumbered, no financial shackles or bonds to weigh them down.  Grim questions early in the morning, with it the realization that I am indeed a fortunate pilgrim. 

I am after all, not dependent on the local metal check recycler for my daily needs.

Who are the happiest people, hard to say?  I suppose the answers are different, on any given day of the week. Guess it all comes down to one basic rule.  It is not the course you chart, but how you set your sail in the morning, that gets you to where you want in life.  God has been good to me. I’m doing alright, I might not have it all. But at least I am not living at the end of the string.

 000

The singer will tell you “that we will be together always” but it isn’t always so.  If your Father is alive and is well, thank your many blessings in life, and reach out to him this day.  He will not always be here for you and there will come a day, when you will miss him so, and there will no longer be time to say so.

I always think of the Harry Chapin Song, “Cat’s In The Cradle” on this day, it just seems appropriate.

One Sunday in May 1910, Sonora Smart Dodd was sitting in church in Spokane, Washington, listening to a sermon about the merits of mothers.  Sonora wondered why she had never heard any sermons about Dads. 

Her own father, a widower named William Smart, had raised six children all alone.

Believing dads should have their day. 

Dodd proposed setting aside a Sunday in June to honor fathers.  The very first father’s day was celebrated in Spokane on June 19, 1910 when Dodd rode down Main Street in a horse-drawn carriage and delivered gifts to fathers all over town.

Unlike Mother’s Day, however, Father’s Day remained unofficial until 1972, when President Richard M Nixon finally proclaimed it a national holiday.

If you cannot be there personally this day, pick up the telephone and give him a ring, I am sure he would appreciate it.

000

 In memory of my recently departed friend John Thomas Wright, this post will run until 06-15-08.  I will then resume regular posting on that date.

There is only one thing in this big old world that never takes a holiday. 

And that is death.

One of the things about dealing with loss, is the fact, that you always feel there was something left un-said, one final goodbye, I wish I had the chance to …… Unfortunately, a lot of the time, it doesn’t turn out that way.  In this particular case it was just that way. 

My good, close personal friend has died, a massive heart attack without warning.  I feel cheated, I feel robbed, and I feel sad.  Please don’t confuse this with Brother John, in PA, my computer friend who shares the page with me often. 

This John, is John Wright, a Locomotive engineer on the same railroad that I retired from.  I used to call him “Little Brother.” Just months away from retirement, we often joked and talked about it, a milepost he sadly will never see.. A time we sadly will not share together.  This is the nature of things this day.

Today I don’t get to write the things I like to write about, the weird and whacky things that make me smile, the offbeat and the colorful, today I have to write about the passing of my friend, John.  Today is not a day that makes me smile, nor should it, because this is never a happy experience for anyone.

John was standing on the rear platform of a BNSF Locomotive the other day in Winslow, Arizona fixing to make a trip back across the mountains at Flagstaff to Needles, California, when he had a massive heart attack and he died.  Just another trip across the mountains.  Something that he had done thousands of times in his long career, but this day, it was not to be so. One of the things that I hate about it more than anything is that “he died away from home” such is the life of a railroad man. 

I didn’t care for that at all.

So I have kind of been dealing with that, and that is why I am sort of backed up on the comments section of all this.  It will be a day or two before I am back into the routine, I am sure you will understand.

Being at a point in life where I am attending far too many funerals and no longer going to weddings, it doesn’t seem to get any easier.  Last year I was dealing with this very same issue, and I suppose next year, it will be the same.  Knowing that you have the strength, faith in God and the convictions to face it head on, doesn’t make it any better, it just makes you capable of understanding it in the end.  I am really going to miss this guy, and there is already a void in my life, because of his sudden untimely passing.

There is an old story about a Preacher and a Railroader who both died on the same day.  And when they arrived at the Heaven’s Gate, they were escorted in and an Angel checked their names in the book of life and they were assigned their respective rooms in heaven.

The next morning, they both happened to meet in the cafeteria and the preacher looked at the railroader and he said, “What is your room like?”  And the old railroader said, “I got a pretty nice room, I have to admit.  I got this big screen television; central heat and air, even got one of them Jacuzzis deals in the bathroom.  Pretty nice set up.”

The preacher was livid, he said, “Man, something is wrong here, really wrong.  I got this little dinky bed, just barely holds one person, a sink, 10” black n white television.  Someone needs to do something about this!”

So they both went back up to the front desk and approached the Angel in charge.  The preacher said to the Angel, “Hey?  Both of us checked in yesterday at the same time, I am a preacher and he is a railroader.  I got this dinky little room, barely a television, air conditioner in the wall.  He has a 62” big screen High-Def-Television, central heat and air, Jacuzzi in the bathroom the whole nine yards!  What gives?”

The Angel smiled and said …… “We get preachers every day in heaven, no big deal.  But he is the FIRST RAILROADER we ever got.”

It is my sincere, profound hope, that my friend John is in Heaven today and that he has a really swell room. 

So Little Brother, reach down, grab you a handful of throttle, slap her in run eight and let ‘er rip, all the blocks are green from here on out …

I miss him desperately already …. John Thomas Wright II …. My JT.

Thanx

000

There will only be one post today, this one.

When I was a boy, the devil would taunt me and call my name,

He would say to me who do you,

who do you think you are fooling

And we would play the game

Today I sit in the house, with a cup of coffee in hand

and I think of Bakersfield or Flagstaff Arizona

all the places I have been

I sit here somewhat wounded and bleeding

Licking the cuts

I want desperately to find a two-lane and own it

Replete with soft shoulders

Pot holes and fences

Take me from this miserable city

With its noise, dirt, crime and petty offenses

The open road, my old heart is calling for you once again

C’mon baby, give me a little more of you

C’mon baby, yeah, give me a little more of you

Walk a little ways in my shoes

No more nosy neighbors or barkin dogs

Electric bills or natural gas

Give me the road

And kiss the part of me

That goes over the fence last.

I hear the train in the distance

Such a lonely sound it makes,

When it is gone there is only silence

So quiet, you can hardly hear the sound of my heart as it breaks.

Tuesday morning in the Big Town.

000

There was a time in my now begotten youth
When I could have stole a woman from any man
Nothin’ fancy
Just plain truth
That is just the way I am
That is just the way I am.

Now many years later,
I find myself with more than one lady
Knocking on my door
Wanting to share my life
For a day
An hour or more.

Doin’ her best to try and warp my mind
Making a mess of it
Most of the time
Time slowly marches on
My visions of youth grown dimmer
With each coming new dawn
Approaching the autumn of my winter.

Tonight I am thinking of all the broken dreams
Best laid plans
Hope’s
And schemes.

After all the old familiar stories are told
Will the truth really be known?
I kinda doubt it
I kinda doubt it.

The looking glass suddenly tells me
I am hitting the middle of my years
I can hardly believe what it is,
that I see,
Glancing upon shades of grey in my beard
My body has placed tell-tale markers
For all the world to see.

Little distinct lines giving my life more meaning
My tired old body has begun to play tricks on me
It simply will not let me tell my lies,
When I call upon it
It answers up “No” most of the time.

Things are different now,
In my clouded looking glass
all the signs are there
Tiny little notices of coming things
Things yet to be
Perhaps a dream of happier times
Are now waiting for me?

In my mirror all the signs are there
Little tell tale markers,
placed there by the hand of God above,
In the autumn of my years …

“Inside every man there is a poet who died young.”

***

Cast aside like an old used rag

I stood vainly by

my heart in my hand

waiting and hoping

for but just one more chance.

Wishing we could start anew

wishing we could somehow

put it all together again

wishing you and I

were but friends in the bitter end.

And now I know

what happened to us so long ago

what it was that hurt you so

why you put your love up on the shelf

just slightly out of my reach

Ah, faded summer love,

all I ever asked for was

simple pleasures your soft caress upon my face.

The pleasure of your company

on a hot muggy summer day

your voice on the telephone

perhaps a quiet dinner

a bottle of wine

one hour with you totally alone

a night out on the town sometime.

To take in a movie

to sit on a bench in the park for awhile

some quiet conversation,

to see your smile.

Spending a minute or two thinking of you this day

tucked away in the quiet solitude of my special place,

yearning for the touch of your hand

smoothing the wrinkles upon my face.

Alas I am sad my dear,

summer love,

shake the fiber of my being,

rushing into my life but once again,

as I gaze upon the sun slowly sinking,

I find myself thinking of you,

Summer Love

cast aside like an old used rag

I stood vainly by

my heart in my hand

waiting and hoping

for but just one more chance.

wandering through the long days that never seem to end.

***

Asked four people today at lunch, four complete and utter strangers, one simple question.  I would look at them and say, “If you don’t mind, can I ask you who you are going to vote for in November?”  At to a person, each one replied, “No One. I am not voting. I am sick of it.”  It is no small wonder we get the type of government we have, when we exhibit attitudes such as these.

We deserve the type of government we are getting.  We evidently don’t seem to care about them … Why in the world should they care about us?

The Loving Universal brotherhood of man is an inclusive, benevolent, politically correct, loving lie.  We blame everyone in the immediate vicinity for our problems, but never step up and assume responsibility for our fair share.  It is much easier to lay it off on the next guy.

I read a great quote on that this past week, it was in the LA Times:

“It is past time for Americans to stop attributing the polarization of our public life to the media, the demon entity “Washington” or “the elites.” As long as we continue to avoid the hard work of scrutinizing public affairs without the filter of polemical shouting heads, we have no one to blame for the governing class and its policies but ourselves.

Like Hofstadter, I yearn to live in a society that values fair-mindedness. But it will take nothing less than a revolutionary public re-commitment to the pursuit of fairness, knowledge and memory to halt, much less reverse, the trend toward an ignorant single-mindedness that threatens the future of democracy itself.”

Every life it seems, is filled with “If Onlies” …

If I had only spent more time with my father.
If only I had married someone else.
If only I had gotten that job in Bakersfield, back in the Seventies.

If only, If only, If only.

Our life may be full of injustices that are beyond our control,
it is up to us to see that they are NOT full of bitterness or regret.
It is up to us, to change it.

Mr. Meant-to-be has a comrade
And his name is Didn’t-do
Have you ever chanced to meet them?
Did they ever call on you?
These two fellows live together
In the house of Never-win
And I am told that it is haunted
By the ghost of what might-have-been.

Samuel Johnson

So goes the week, such as it is.

A sun beam to warm you
Good luck to charm you
A sheltering Angel so nothing can harm or bother you
Laughter to cheer you
Faithful friends near you
And whenever you take time to pray
God in Heaven to hear you.

There’s a road
a winding road that never ends.
Full of curves lessons learned at every bend.
Going’s rough unlike the straight and narrow.
It’s for those who go against the grain.
Have no fear, dare to dream of change.
Live to march to the beat of a different drummer,
and it all seems to come together.
Or at times, it all might come unraveled, on the road less traveled.

A night under a blanket of stars out on what is left of the prairie,
if you can find a spot where the city lights don’t crowd out the heavenly neighbors above.
Sunset on the beach out on the westcoast,
the waves crashing, and the smell of the surf in the air.
Walking barefoot over fresh cut grass, a thing of the past now.
A bride and a groom holding hands at the altar,
a new life setting stage to begin.
Hot doughnuts on Saturday morning, I like the kind with the grape jelly inside.
Long awaited vacation and new people, places and happenings.

A hug from a friend
A clean house, with clear windows
A letter from someone you love
A card from a friend
A telephone call on the weekend

A freight pulling the hill in the distance
Geese flying North
A baby’s laugh or a woman’s soft,
sexy whisper in the dark.
Longer days and warmer nights.
April, when a Man’s thoughts turn to lighter fancy things and simple delights.

Have a great and wondrous happy-delightful-day, “it makes people wonder what it is that you are up to.”

000

My vagabond soul is stretching the limits of my sanity. Ravaging my spirit and tempting me beyond belief, the urge to move on is tugging on the heartstrings of my soul. I am thinking of different places, smells and sights.

I am thinking this morning of the mountains.

Seem to be experiencing this longing to go to Denver again. Lord, is this going to happen; am I to make a trip to Denver this year? I sure would like to go; it would be so nice to get out of here, if only for a short trip and a little while.

Can this even be possible given the economic conditions in this country right now? Just to get out on the highway for awhile and watch the plains roll by the window, and smell the country air, that would be such a kick or boost for my tired old spirit. Better than Prozac or Valium, a natural boost to clear my mind, fifth gear and seventy-five, high-ballin in overdrive..

One more river to cross, one more mountain to climb, one more valley I gotta go thru, leaving my troubles behind. One more battle with the devil over my sin, I am going to walk with Jesus, and I am going to share my life with Him. Turn up the radio, roll down the window and allow the wind to rush across my face, give me a moment or two, the opportunity to get out of this place.

I long for a two lane highway, after five in the afternoon, they are just about all mine. The farmers and the truckers have settled in for the day, and they leave it all to me. Even the plains of Kansas, endless and mostly devoid of trees, can be a welcome thing to a tired and ragged soul, looking for a watering hole for his spirit. Denver after a trip across the wheat lands and prairies of Kansas shines like a jewel on the horizon. It calls to me like a lost lover in the dark after a summer dance …

Spring time on the plains, wake up and smell the roses.

Nice weather is just around the corner, soon the youngin’s will be frolicking in the sprinkler, and you will be putting some meat on the grill. Time to break out the weed-whacker, the old lawnmower, weeding, planting, and mowing to improve the appearance of the homestead will soon be the order of the day. Reducing your stress and deflating the spare tire you developed sitting around watching the Discovery Channel during the winter months and whiling away the days.

One more river to cross, one more mountain to climb, one more valley I gotta go thru, leaving my troubles behind. One more battle with the devil over my sin, I am going to walk with Jesus, and I am going to share my life with Him. Turn up the radio, roll down the window and allow the wind to rush across my face, give me a moment or two, the opportunity to get out of this place.

***

Often I find myself in here, late at night, drinking some coffee and surfing the net. Some days it is interesting and on other days, disturbing as all get out.

There are so many disenchanted people on the net, totally unplugged, disconnected from life in general, society, the mainstream of American life.

Often you come across a post that reads so depressingly that you just want to lie down in the bathtub in a pool of warm water, light a couple of candles, slit your wrists and be done with it.

It is often that bad.

It just seems to me that we have a whole generation of people (perhaps even more) that are genuinely dissatisfied with life, and could care less about living, which to me is sad. And possibly even more disturbing is the simple fact of “I don’t know how to reach them.”

Life doesn’t have to be all that sad, there is hope, and sometimes you find it in the strangest places.

I didn’t start out to write a testimonial about my wife, Cup Cake, but it appears that is where I am heading. She is a definite plus in my life, hates it when I write about her, and she adds to my life each day, I am a lucky guy to have discovered her all those years ago.

When I am down, she helps to pick me up, and I guess that is why the majority of these people, unhappy people on the net, are single people. Living alone, no partner, maybe a cat, a lot of people on the net have cats. What is the deal on that.

Married people are also smarter, another distinct advantage to being monogamous. Now if you are young and just starting out and reading this, you will more than likely not understand. You might even take offense. But this is a true statement.

Changes that occur in the brain during the early stages of love are not conducive to intellectual pursuits. The feeling of euphoria, the sometimes obsessive desire to be with your beloved, all make concentration on anything else, almost impossible.

It is when you reach our age, the Crescent of Life, the stage where most of it is ….. “C’mere, get away, C’mere, get away, C’mere, get away, C’mere, get away,” you then reach an understanding of it all.

As I understand it. When people in the early stages of infatuation are shown photos of their sweethearts and told to think about them, areas of the brain rich in the chemical dopamine are activated.

Dopamine produces very powerful pleasurable sensations. Cocaine and amphetamine, for example, produce their effects by spurring the release of dopamine.

When people MY AGE are shown similar pictures, they just sort of get irritated because you woke up them up from their nap.

In other words, mature relationships do not produce dopamine, euphoria, and generally speaking, are less responsive when shown a picture of their significant other.

Unless you are like me. I have what is known as a pornographic mind, I can remember every dirty picture I have ever seen. But I cannot speed read for some reason, wonder what that is about? It sure would make reading my prescription bottles a lot faster.

I am glad that I have my little China Doll, she completes me (not like Tom Cruise mind ya) and helps me thru the difficult times, I am glad that we are “hooked up” as the younger set puts it. Lately, I have been devoting a lot of time to thinking about our Golden Years.

We are both Baby Boomers, and quickly approaching that time of our lives, where we must give serious consideration to the twilight years that are now just over the horizon. The years that we thought would NEVER get here, are suddenly right there, staring us in the eye.

In America the youngsters have a tendency to farm out the old people to the nursing home or assisted living, sad truth, but it happens with disturbing reality in this country.

Other civilizations and cultures revere the elderly, but not in this country, the aged or elderly, much like everything else, we often deem that they are disposable.

Sadly this is the norm.

I don’t want no stinkin’ nursing home, assisted living, or anything like that. I also want someone with enough courage and guts standing next to my bed that will unplug me and allow me to depart, with a modicum of dignity.

So there, I am on record about that.

The other day I was talking to a lady at the Appliance Repair shop and she mentioned something I found interesting. I may have accidentally discovered a possible solution to it all. Even a blind hog can find an acorn every now and then.

The average nursing home expense in this country is now approaching something like $2,400 per month. Who has that kind of discretionary income in this day and age, certainly not me. So I have hit upon a possible solution, we will take a cruise, several cruises per year actually.

Think about it.

Three meals a day. Doctor’s on a cruise ship, 24-7 so that is not a problem. New friends, not each day, but all of the time. Room and board. No home maintenance, no property taxes. Visiting strange and new places or just sitting on the deck and taking in the sun. No Grandkids under foot, no phone, no pager, no answering machine/voice mail.

Okay stop it, I hear you snickering in the background, saying “the fool has finally lost his mind!” This is my personal dopamine-driven euphoria to a more mindful cultivation of love and respect.

Flowers and candlelight dinners help, but so do exploring and experiencing the world together until the bitter end, this carries a certain appeal to me.

Face the facts. We can not all be the Ex-Governor of New York and move to Nevada and open up a empire of high-end brothels, which will feature the services of classy celebrity starlets who do not wear underwear and are on the downslide of life.

A few of us, are going to be left behind, to fend for ourselves.

Yup, that are a plan to me. It surely beats sitting around in some lonely, dark room with a cat, typing what a miserable rotten life you have and then posting it on some board, full of dysfunctional lost souls who are living fruitless, lives of desperation with their beloved cats.

Me and the Miss’us are gonna take a cruise.

That is better than sitting in matching bathtubs, holding hands on some mysterious beach location in California, staring at the fading sunset, living better thru the wonders of chemistry.

(Levitra commercials … I mean really … who has matching bathtubs, give me a break)

So that is the plan. We are going to set sail on the Geritol Love Boat … We will send you a post card from the edge, when we do get there …

***