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171 days ago
Nostrils flare scenting time and probabilities; mouth waters anticipating the fun of the right moment. I went to have brunch with my son’s family this morning. Not far after I merged onto the interstate highway I saw a huge blinking yellow arrow pointing to the right. Roadwork ahead. As I got to the work site, the Illinois Department of Transportation had helpfully placed a sign to explain the narrowing of traffic lanes: WEEKEND LANE CLOSURES – speed limit 45 MPH strictly enforced; $345 fine. As I passed the barricaded worksite, no work was taking place. How kind of IDOT, I thought, to provide practice in proper work zone driving etiquette at the very beginning of the peak road repair season. But then it also seemed to me to be perfectly fitting for my weekend so far. I have applied for a job, and I am waiting to see if I get a call for a job interview. I’m led to believe that the company looked over applicant resumes last ...
234 days ago
On my computer screen Chen Rong’s dragon pearl of wisdom in claw drifting live daring come and get it Chumster. This Christmas I took two of our grandchildren to see the remake of The Day the Earth Stood Still. I had seen the 1951 original when I was a kid and loved it. To this day I remember part of the phrase that the human mother had to say to stop Gort from exterminating an entire American army battalion, “Klaatu barada nikto.” Every time my grade school had an atomic bomb drill, and I crawled under my desk and dutifully hid my face to avoid the glass that would shatter inward and not to be blinded by the sudden light from the bomb detonation, I remembered the message of the movie: Atomic weapons were dangerous. (I was glad helpful space aliens had come to explain that to Washington, DC.) I did like the giant robot, Gort, in the remake better than the old Gort. This time Gort fragments into millions of tiny, self replicating, ...
297 days ago
Blago speaks expounds his side of the show slides his semblance dissembles his perceptions The ayes have this story’s end I have a growing passion for a particular Chinese, hand scroll painting, Chen Rong’s Nine Dragons. It was painted over a period of years around 1244 AD. It is 50 feet long. Here’s an interesting thing about really old Chinese paintings, no one can be sure if the painting is authentic. In China copying old master works is not a matter of forgery, it is the sincerest form of flattery. And a good way to improve the artist’s brush work. But for the person, me, who would love to get his hands on a copy of the Nine Dragons scroll, there is the cloudy question of whether I would get a good copy of the real nine dragons or a good copy of some other artist’s flattery. My guru used to talk about surfing the waves of life’s ocean. I could see in his eyes a certain joy in the prospect of a storm tossed sea. In that ...
305 days ago
She sits a bit back shadowed hands tightly together no smile giving her self away Twilight too bright for headlights Does it seem this way to you too? In a new or mostly unpredictable situation, the first response is a kind of fearful emotion? Maybe just a bit of anxiety or apprehension, not full blown terror. I have often wondered about this especially because I seem to be more blessed with this reaction than Babs is. Actually it makes sense to me. Emotional responses are the first responses. And, if one is confronted with a new situation, then the emotional mind, often called the gut mind, attempts rapidly to assess whether this is going to hurt a lot , a little, or not at all. That’s a working description of anxiety as a first response to things new. It could also be argued – probably by Babs – that being anxious is just my basic nature. I can’t really disagree too strongly. I grew up in a household where being anxious wasn’t ...
310 days ago
Blue their old gray hound whimpers hearing passersby wanting action fresh air a place to piss I have no key to their door I’m writing this morning from the home of my son-in-law, a well know UK artist. Last weekend we saw a five-second slice of a Microsoft commercial that used one of his civic sculptures as an iconic background in a TV commercial. I was thinking this morning about what an average life I have had. I know one shouldn’t admit to an average life. There are no merit badges for average. Still I have had a wonderfully average life so far. My grandfather was a farmer. As a kid I remember it was always interesting to look in the toolbox mounted to the fender of his tractor. I usually could find an arrow head or two; sometimes just a fragment and sometimes a nearly perfect point. One my grandfather’s fields had been the site of an Indian encampment, a site close to an outcropping of flint. Of course, when I saw the field, ...
