Intermezzo ~ Late Evening Thoughts

For tonight, I'm going to leave myself at the hospital with a broken arm, and various problems with Julius Caesar and Midsummer Night's Dream unresolved. I wanted to head in a different direction for tonight ...

Today I found out that D&D,who have been close (if dramatic) friends for over 10 years, are ending their unending relationship of over 9 years. I would like to say that this came as a complete shock to me, but it did not. For a number of years, they have sounded more like a couple that's been married for a long time - but didn't want to be. And their idea of communication seemed more to talk AT each other, rather than TO each other.

I haven't done this for sometime, but I went back and looked at various quotes that I thought were relevant and realized again - any relationship/friendship takes work. Sometimes a lot of work. The advantage of friendship, as I see it, is that there is a separation inherent in the dynamics.

However, as I learned in my marriage that ended after 15+ years, marriage is not a minimizer but an enlarger. Those charming idiosyncrasies that are so charming when dating - can become major mountains that need to be overcome!!

(but it's all worth it!!)


“Love is not written on paper, for paper can be erased. Nor is it etched on stone, for stone can be broken. But it is inscribed on a heart and there it shall remain forever.”
--unknown

“It is strange how often a heart must be broken before the years can make it wise”
--Sara Teasdale

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.”
--C.S. Lewis

“When love is lost, do not bow your head in sadness; instead keep your head up high and gaze at the stars for that is where your broken heart has been sent to heal!”
--unknown

“A broken heart is what makes life so wonderful five years later, when you see that special guy in an elevator and he is fat and smoking and saying 'Long time no see'”
--Phyllis Batelle

"The day you finally decide to love me will be the day after the day I have given up on chasing you."
--unknown

"I don't miss him, I miss who I thought he was."
--unknown

" Maybe nature is fundamentally ugly, chaotic and complicated. But if it's like that, then I want out."
--Steven Weinberg

"Man is harder than iron, stronger than stone and more fragile than a rose."
--Turkish Proverb

---and as Paul Harvey might have said: Tomorrow, more of the Shakespeare story

Writer's Cramp And Pain ~ Late Eveing Thoughts

I have to apologize for the silence in this blog. I really haven't fallen off the face of the earth, nor have I been captured by a mob bent on burning, raping and/or pillaging.

I have been deeply involved in two creative projects . . . one is total vanity on my part - I have been putting a book together which is now taking shape. It will hold it's shape as long as I don't get the "Oh, good Lord - what do I think I am doing" vision and use the delete key to take it all away. I don't think it will happen as there's been a bit too much of my energy, etc. involved in it.

I can tell you that the title will be "Do You Want Me To Bring The Ashes?" which comes from an incident involving my Mother's funeral. Almost the entire book are base on my memories of things in and around my life. Much of the material has come, so far, from the postings in this blog ~ all of which has required a LOT of rewriting and "fixing" - especially when it comes to names and such.

The other creative project that has really consumed me, I was asked to create a theater piece. I have NO idea if it will be performed or even make it to a staged reading. It is a type of theater I have always had difficulty writing, but I am slogging though all this and fully expect to come out the other side. Perhaps I will not come out the other side triumphant but I certainly will have accomplished a major goal.

I think that things will begin to settle down now and not take quite so much of my time and energy.

Talks about writer cramps and pains ... Sometimes creativity hurts!!!

Words, Words, Words ~ Late Eveing Thoughts

This is a two-part post tonight . . .

First, Good Ol' Oxford University has complied a list of the 10 MOST irritating expressions . . .

The phrases appear in a book called Damp Squid, named after the mistake of confusing a squid with a squib, a type of firework.

The researchers who compiled the list monitor the use of phrases in a database called the Oxford University Corpus, which comprises books, papers, magazines, broadcast, the Internet and other sources.

The database alerts them to new words and phrases and can tell them which expressions are disappearing. It also shows how words are being misused.

As well as the above expressions, the book's author Jeremy Butterfield says that many annoyingly over-used expressions actually began as office lingo, such as 24/7 and "synergy".

Other phrases to irritate people are "literally" and "ironically", when they are used out of context.

Mr Butterfield said: "We grow tired of anything that is repeated too often – an anecdote, a joke, a mannerism – and the same seems to happen with some language."

Here is the list ~ I'm sure there are others we all would like to see added -

The top ten most irritating phrases:

1 - At the end of the day (a phrase I have come to detest!)

2 - Fairly unique (is this similar to being somewhat pregnant?)

3 - I personally

4 - At this moment in time (a bad song title as well)

5 - With all due respect (usually followed by something showing NO respect)

6 - Absolutely

7 - It's a nightmare

8 - Shouldn't of (instead of shouldn't have ~ my Mother would be so proud!!)

9 - 24/7

10 - It's not rocket science

The American Dialect Society ~ Word Of The Year

Their press release says it best:

Word of the Year is interpreted in its broader sense as “vocabulary item”—not just words but
phrases. The words or phrases do not have to be brand-new, but they have to be newly prominent or notable in the past year, in the manner of Time magazine’s Person of the Year.

The vote is the longest-running such vote anywhere, the only one not tied to commercial interests, and the word-of-the-year event up to which all others lead. It is fully informed by the members’ expertise in the study of words, but it is far from a solemn occasion. Members in the 119-year-old organization include linguists, lexicographers, etymologists, grammarians, historians, researchers, writers, authors, editors, professors, university students, and independent scholars.

In conducting the vote, they act in fun and do not pretend to be officially inducting words into the English language. Instead they are highlighting that language change is normal, ongoing, and entertaining.

2007 Word of the Year,
subprime, an adjective used to describe a risky or less than ideal loan, mortgage, or investment.
Most Useful: green- prefix/compounding form, designates environmental concern, as in greenwashing.
Most Creative: googlegänger, a person with your name who shows up when you google yourself.
Most Unnecessary: Happy Kwanhanamas! [Kwanza + Hanukka + Christmas] Happy holidays!
Most Outrageous: toe-tapper, A homosexual. Senator Larry Craig was arrested in June for an encounter in a public restroom in which toe-tapping was said to have been used as a sexual come on.
Most Euphemistic: human terrain team, a group of social scientists employed by the US military to serve as cultural advisers in Iraq or Afghanistan.
Most Likely to Succeed: green- prefix/compounding form, designates environmental concern, as in greenwashing.
Least Likely to Succeed: strand-in, protest duplicating being stranded inside an airplane on a delayed flight.
New Category, Real Estate Words: subprime, used to describe a risky or poorly documented loan or mortgage.

These are the words for 2007, I will be posting 2008 soon . . . .

Show me - from My Fair Lady

Freddy
Speak and the world is full of singing,
And I'm winging Higher than the birds.
Touch and my heart begins to crumble,
The heaven's tumble, Darling, and I'm...

Eliza
Words!
Words! Words! I'm so sick of words!
I get words all day through;
First from him, now from you! Is that all you blighters can do?
Don't talk of stars Burning above; If you're in love,
Show me! Tell me no dreams
Filled with desire. If you're on fire,
Show me! Here we are together in the middle of the night!
Don't talk of spring! Just hold me tight!
Anyone who's ever been in love'll tell you that
This is no time for a chat! Haven't your lips
Longed for my touch? Don't say how much,
Show me! Show me! Don't talk of love lasting through time.
Make me no undying vow. Show me now!
Sing me no song! Read me no rhyme!
Don't waste my time, Show me!
Don't talk of June, Don't talk of fall!
Don't talk at all! Show me!
Never do I ever want to hear another word.
There isn't one I haven't heard.
Here we are together in what ought to be a dream;
Say one more word and I'll scream!
Haven't your arms Hungered for mine?
Please don't "expl'ine," Show me! Show me!
Don't wait until wrinkles and lines
Pop out all over my brow,
Show me now!

Please Pass (over) The Nuts (3) ~ Late Evening Thoughts

I, along with many others, watched (in my case overwatched) the inauguration of a new President on the 20th. (Yes, I was still watching at the 10th Presidential dance! If their feet didn't hurt, mine certainly did!)I was hopeful that a new beginning might signal a new start in areas where so much has been lacking. As a gay and fundamental Christian, I believe I have a Biblical obligation to pray for my leaders, even those I disagree with. As an American, I feel I have an obligation to hope and pray for the best from my leaders, and to "hold their feet to the fire" if they are not doing their best.

The cynicism that I posted about last, had even gotten into that area where I could no longer even look at any of the governments - federal, state and local - with any degree of objectivity or hope. In the amazing book "Language In Thought And Action," the author talks about when we have cast someone in the role of the "enemy" ALL communications/actions by them are immediately suspect and are filtered through the lens of how I view the "enemy" regardless of the truth.

So, I began to climb out of THAT hole and back to the level playing ground of attempting to see what was truth and what was not. And based on the last several years of watching government, not an easy task ~ not an easy task at all.

Over the last couple of days, two instances of people working on the premise that someone is the enemy and all communications are to be dismissed as lies and deceit have really hit me. Both are disturbing in many ways, but most disturbing to me as to their own lack of humanity and belief in people. Both would claim that is not true, but sadly both would be wrong.

The first came from a supposed christian (small c) self-appointed leader. Joseph Farah is the founder of a very conservative web-site WorldNet Daily. It has a number of contributors who echo the views of the founder. That's not a problem for me, as I will defend their right to say what they think, just as I will defend my right not to read it. I will also defend my right to comment on it, and give my view of it.

Back in August, I posted about christian hate and christian witchcraft. Christian witchcraft to me is asking the Almighty (however you regard that) to do something "to" another rather than "for" another. It's charging into the Throne Room ~ demands in hand and expecting that regardless of the Person on the Throne's attitude/statements/desire we will get what we want, when we want it and, "oh yes, make that yesterday" because I say so. In this case Joseph Farah does something a little more insidious than that. He cloaks his witchcraft in a seemingly nice Christian outfit, with a few well chosen verses thrown in for good effect. He is asking ~ Well, here's the article. . .

Joseph Farah Pray Obama fails
Posted: January 19, 2009
1:00 am Eastern

Many American Christians believe, as an article of faith, that we are to pray for the success of our leaders.

It has become a sort of conventional wisdom among soft-minded believers. The biblical proof-text for this misguided way of thinking is Romans 13:1-4:

"Let every soul be subject unto the higher powers. For there is no power but of God: the powers that be are ordained of God.

"Whosoever therefore resisteth the power, resisteth the ordinance of God: and they that resist shall receive to themselves damnation.

"For rulers are not a terror to good works, but to the evil. Wilt thou then not be afraid of the power? do that which is good, and thou shalt have praise of the same:

"For he is the minister of God to thee for good. But if thou do that which is evil, be afraid; for he beareth not the sword in vain: for he is the minister of God, a revenger to execute wrath upon him that doeth evil."

What could be more clear-cut? At face value, it would seem the Bible is telling us government is a God-ordained good and that we are not to resist its terrors.

Many a coward has been bolstered in his conviction against challenging tyranny by not reading too deeply into the Scriptures. Yet, nowhere does the Bible ever suggest evil rulers are to be obeyed. When the rule of men conflicts with the commands of God, the Bible leaves no doubt about where we should stand.

That's why I do not hesitate today in calling on godly Americans to pray that Barack Hussein Obama fail in his efforts to change our country from one anchored on self-governance and constitutional republicanism to one based on the raw and unlimited power of the central state.

It would be folly to pray for his success in such an evil campaign.

I want Obama to fail because his agenda is 100 percent at odds with God's. Pretending it is not simply makes a mockery of God's straightforward Commandments.

So you will not see me joining in the ritual of affirming Obama and his mission in public or private prayer this week – or any other week.

Instead, I uphold the words of Jesus in Matthew 15:14: "Let them alone: they be blind leaders of the blind. And if the blind lead the blind, both shall fall into the ditch." And I take warning from Isaiah 9:16: "For the leaders of this people cause them to err; and they that are led of them are destroyed."

And please don't tell me about "rendering unto Caesar."

It's important to consider the circumstances and the audience behind Jesus' instructions to "render unto Caesar." The Sadducees were attempting to trap Jesus into advocating open contempt for Caesar. He recognized their wicked and hypocritical little game and answered them with a totally truthful response that astonished everyone.

But think about it. There are two components to Jesus' words. We are to "render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's," but we are also to "render unto God the things that are God's." Well, everything ultimately belongs to God. But, most of all, this injunction by Jesus instructs us that government laws cannot trump God's laws – ever.

If government commands you to do evil, as a Christian you must resist. There is no alternative. Citing the "render unto Caesar" line is an apologetic for accountability to God – nothing more, nothing less.

Furthermore, it needs to be pointed out that in America we don't have a Caesar. Never have, never will. You see, our system of government is called a free republic, and it is based on the concept of constitutional self-government. We have no "rulers" in America – except ourselves and our God. We believe in the rule of law, not the rule of men.

This is an important distinction, not a semantic one.

Nowhere in the Bible does it teach us to obey evil rulers. Nowhere.

This is a time for principled biblical resistance, not phony Christian appeasement.

If, indeed, Mr. Farah is the Christian he claims, and not the christian he seems to be representing here ~ there's a very strong disconnect from the reality of Scripture. I'm not going to head into a theological argument here, that will be for another time. But I will say time and again The Bible makes it perfectly clear that indeed we do have leaders and we have an obligation to pray for them.

He also conveniently ignores the number of instances where Biblical characters not only DID support what Mr. Farah would consider to be evil, but actually in some cases ruled WITH them.

Yes, there is a time for resistance - but this is not one of them.

And a final thought on this man ~ if, indeed, the President WERE to fail would he stand on his cyberspace rooftop and shout that God had answered his prayer? I rather doubt it. . .

Then, today ~ I ran across this gem from someone who should know better, or is so desperate for ratings or sell his material that he would grasp at straws to accomplish his ends. Rush Limbaugh (remember him from the prescription addiction/pharmacy shopping episode). had this to say about being asked for a 400 word article on what he hopes from an Obama administration:

So I’m thinking of replying to the guy, “Okay, I’ll send you a response, but I don’t need 400 words, I need four: I hope he fails.” (interruption) What are you laughing at? See, here’s the point. Everybody thinks it’s outrageous to say. Look, even my staff, “Oh, you can’t do that.” Why not? Why is it any different, what’s new, what is unfair about my saying I hope liberalism fails? Liberalism is our problem. Liberalism is what’s gotten us dangerously close to the precipice here. Why do I want more of it? I don’t care what the Drive-By story is. I would be honored if the Drive-By Media headlined me all day long: “Limbaugh: I Hope Obama Fails.” Somebody’s gotta say it.

Again, this from the man who indicated a number of years ago that dissent was equal to terrorism ~ I suspect echoing the press secretary right after 9/11 who warned that “Americans…need to watch what they say, watch what they do.” They were chilling words back then and became even more so during these last years.

I've discovered I'm not as young as I used to be ~ my body keeps reminding me of that daily and going out and about reminds me of that as well. One of the things it has done is allow me the luxury of looking at things with very different "eyes" and outlook. These people are sad in different and similar ways.

I'm not joining the "cast them into the fiery pit of hell" crowd because dissent is a natural and important part of the American political process. What I, and I hope others, will do is to point out the hypocrisy and errors of their dissent.

And, alas, to pray for them.

Cyclic Cynical ~ Late Evening Thoughts

Every so often it comes over me. It's a feeling not of despair or hopelessness ~ but one of deep cynicism. It is not a pleasant feeling or way of thinking. If allowed to run free, it begins to color so many areas of life. . . relationships, friendships and way of life.

As I was trying to track down where this was coming from or being "fed" by, I realized that the political arena was mostly to blame. I was surprised because usually my reaction politically is a heartfelt "Meh" (a new word in the dictionary) or a rather disgusted "Oh well . . . ". It seems that this time the political circus has moved beyond the annoying to emulating the Keystone Kops!

It started with Mr Pay-for-Play Rod Blagojevich, who, until we actually have a chance to hear/read the transcripts of the recorded conversations, seems to be guilty of nothing more than stupidity and babbling bluster. However, that was until the Senate leadership, in its infinite leadership wisdom entered the act. With extreme posturing ~ even by political standards ~ announcing that no one appointed by the governor would be seated in the Senate to replace President-Elect Obama. At first blush it seemed reasonable enough, however with some reflection I remembered there was a court case where the House was told by the Supreme Court no less, That Congress lacked power to fashion its own standards for admittance (back in 1967, involving Adam Clayton Powell ~ race surely coincidental). Of course, the Governor did exactly that . . . he appointed Roland Burris who one article described as someone who: "never lacked in self-esteem or retreated from long-odds challenges."

This appointment boxed the Senate leadership into a nice corner of their own making.

Then, I read in chigacotribune.com this priceless bit of information ~

" While the process slogs along, it's also possible that Burris could take on some limited trappings of office.

Past practice (cue music from Fiddler on the Roof here) in the Senate has been to grant a senator whose credentials are disputed office space and payroll for a staff, as well as floor privileges—but not a Senate seat—until the situation is resolved. So Burris potentially could be allowed to enter the exclusive club, but not as a full member, without the ability to vote, speak or even literally sit at a senator's desk."

At that point, my cynical meter was almost on overload. Everything but the ability to vote or have a seat on the senate floor? Are you kidding me?

It no longer is a surprise to me that Congress is unable to get anything done. They're too busy living on tradition or trying to outdo or outshout anyone else.

However, all that paled when my cynic (OK, B.S.) meter finally exploded. I had heard this before, but it wasn't until tonight that any of the anchors seemed to make a point of it . . . The Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid had evidently called Mr. Blogojevich to tell him who NOT to appoint (evidently) because they would not be "electable" in the 2010 elections!! No name politicians such as: Jesse Jackson, Jr., Danny Davis or Emil Jones. Now, this has moved from the Keystone Kops to The Perils of Pauline!

While I am using the political situation as a "set-up" this is not basically a political two-part post. Tomorrow I'm going to explore what this cynical attitude can do to me and to those around me ... after all:

"What is a cynic? A man who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing."
---Oscar Wilde (1854 - 1900)

“The opposite of creativity is cynicism”
---Esa Saarinen

"A cynic is a man who, when he smells flowers, looks around for a coffin."
---H. L. Mencken (1880 - 1956)

Golden Eggs (2) ~ Early Morning Thoughts`

Last night I recounted a fable about the golden goose that laid golden eggs.

"[While many people see the story as a warning against greed or even the more you produce, the more you do, the more effective you will be.] . . . I suggest that within this fable is a natural law, a principle - the basic definition of effectiveness True effectiveness is a function of two things: what is produced (the golden eggs) and the producing asset or capacity to produce (the goose).

If you adopt a pattern of life that focuses on golden eggs and neglects the goose, you will soon be without the asset that produces golden eggs. On the other hand, if you only take care of the goose with no aim toward the golden eggs, you soon won't have the wherewithal to feed yourself or the goose."1

At this point, I basically had an epiphany about some of what I had been doing in the past and even recently. (Epiphany can be a "nice" word for getting smacked in the back of the head with a 2x4)

I learned there are three kinds of assets - physical, financial and human.
Three years ago, I purchased a good computer. Later I purchased a very good monitor...(not to play World of Warcraft, of course) And over time, I've given some thought to their maintenance and upkeep - but not as much as I should have. Now, the computer is in need of some attention, by someone that is a little more knowledgeable than I am about serious maintenance. I was actually looking at the short-term and had started to run this asset down. Of course, I can say the same about my body - and trust me there is a LOT of work to be done there. (major overhaul for 600, Alex)

The next asset is financial. And I've had to make some changes there as well. Not that I, at this point, have to worry - but if I were to continue living my life as if tomorrow didn't matter, I would soon be having to worry about tomorrow. Of course, our ability to earn and manage money is a financial asset as well. But, there will come a time when perhaps I won't be able to earn money and I don't want to do things that will get in the way of the now.

A year and a half ago, I took a job as a by-the-week apartment manager 1) because it was supposedly right up my alley and 2) it was going to pay me a salary that was much higher than the level of the job seemed to be. It was what seemed to be a good opportunity. Lots of promises were made and I signed on at the interview. The fact also that I had been without work for sometime might have played a part in it as well.

Now that I look back - especially with the golden goose in mind - I realize that this fable DOES contain principles. The properties were owned by a slumlord less than honorable group of people. There were serious maintenance issues, etc. I thought at the time, if I can only get the rents collected, keep the tenants happy keep moving people into empty apartments and get whatever maintenance needs accomplished I can within the system that I would be fine.

Right at the start what was being produced (the rents) was getting much more attention than the capacity to produce (the apartments). And as I look back over some of my posts about the place, I knew what was going to happen much earlier then I admitted it to myself. And now, I'm doing in six days what "normal" apartment managers do in four weeks. And each week I got the privilege of starting all over again.

So now, I'm fighting my ability to collect rents/fill apartments/evict those who don't pay/keep the central family office happy (what is being produced) by my constant frustration over what isn't happening and my feelings of sheer terror at losing the job and not having an income (producing capacity) as well as being determined to please the "boss.".

Up until the last several weeks (the change due to a lost lawsuit about overtime) managers were basically on-call 24/7 and worked seven days a week. Something was going to give, and I can tell you - as far as the family was concerned - it wasn't going to be what was being produced.

As I began to spiral downward from all that was going on - to say nothing of what I was fighting mentally that I didn't even realize - I have to say that my rent collections were the best in the entire system of apartments (in three states). I had a positive balance on the spreadsheets - the bible of the owning family - and everyone had basically paid all that was owed and some were even ahead.

--more on this tomorrow
_______________
1. 7 Habits of Highly Effective People - Stephen R. Covey pg. 56

Golden Eggs ~ Late Evening Thoughts

With tropical storm Eduard bearing down, people are beginning preparations for what may/might happen ... where I live in Houston, we will probably have plenty of rain and some wind. As with tropical storms/hurricanes they have a tendency to keep their intentions fairly close to the chest and don't play their cards until the last possible moment.

Lat week I finally got a copy of a book that has been available for a number of years. I have e-mailed the author for permission to do some quotes from the book, but tonight I wanted to start with a story the author tells. It was a story I'd heard a number (?!) of times before - but where I am on this journey now - this time it really spoke to me on a number of different levels. (with apologies to Aesop and others)

There once was a man who by being blessed with good fortune was given a goose in exchange for some work that he did. While he was not happy with only getting a goose, he thought it would at least make a good dinner as it seemed very fat and actually quite content.

He took it home and placed the goose in a box by the fireplace so that it could stay warm and stay within sight.

In the morning when he looked in the box the goose had been in - he was astonished to see a golden egg. One golden egg. Knowing this was quite valuable, he took it into market and sold it for quite a good sum of money. He was pleased.

Each morning he checked the goose's box and each morning there was yet another golden egg - each as valuable as the first one.

This went on for sometime and eventually the man became somewhat impatient. Rather than having just one egg a day, he began to wonder why they goose didn't lay two or three. . . or even more.

He began to realize that the goose must have either gold inside or a lot of golden eggs. So, early one morning - right after the goose had laid yet another golden treasure, the man killed it.

He quickly cut it open expecting to find a treasure that would make him rich and powerful for his entire life. He was to find nothing other than what any goose or living creature would have inside.

And now, he was left with a hacked up goose not fit for cooking and no goose to lay golden eggs.

For years I've heard the "moral" of the story as "greed can overreach itself" or "haste makes waste" or "what some people have is never enough." But there is a very different approach to the story that really had me evaluating my life and somethings that I've done. Not that they were "bad", so to speak - but perhaps there might have been a better way...

--more tomorrow

By the way - I thought you might enjoy the Indian version of the story - this was translated and published in 1895.

The Golden Mallard
from The Jataka

Once upon a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born a Brahmin, and growing up was married to a bride of his own rank, who bore him three daughters named Nanda, Nanda-vati, and Sundari-nanda. The Bodhisatta dying, they were taken in by neighbors and friends, whilst he was born again into the world as a golden mallard endowed with consciousness of its former existences.

Growing up, the bird viewed its own magnificent size and golden plumage, and remembered that previously it had been a human being. Discovering that his wife and daughters were living on the charity of others, the mallard bethought him of his plumage like hammered and beaten gold and how by giving them a golden feather at a time he could enable his wife and daughters to live in comfort. So away he flew to where they dwelt and alighted on the top of the central beam of the roof. Seeing the Bodhisatta, the wife and girls asked where he had come from; and he told them that he was their father who had died and been born a golden mallard, and that he had come to visit them and put an end to their miserable necessity of working for hire.

"You shall have my feathers," said he, "one by one, and they will sell for enough to keep you all in ease and comfort."

So saying, he gave them one of his feathers and departed. And from time to time he returned to give them another feather, and with the proceeds of their sale these Brahmin women grew prosperous and quite well to do.

But one day the mother said to her daughters, "There's no trusting animals, my children. Who's to say your father might not go away one of these days and never come back again? Let us use our time and pluck him clean next time he comes, so as to make sure of all his feathers."

Thinking this would pain him, the daughters refused.

The mother in her greed called the golden mallard to her one day when he came, and then took him with both hands and plucked him.

Now the Bodhisatta's feathers had this property that if they were plucked out against his wish, they ceased to be golden and became like a crane's feathers. And now the poor bird, though he stretched his wings, could not fly, and the woman flung him into a barrel and gave him food there. As time went on his feathers grew again (though they were plain white ones now), and he flew away to his own abode and never came back again.

A 60+ Stoner ~ Late Evening Thoughts

This chapter picks up from --here--

Once taken into the surgical holy-of-holies, I was shown to a draped area with a bed and various machinery not for the faint of heart. I was handed two (not one) two surgical gowns to put on. As surgical gowns had been designed by Dr. Seymour Butts, this was a welcome change indeed. Now, the posterior areas would not be flapping in the breeze of hospital air conditioning...or so I thought. Alas, when the surgical nurse (have to use the right title here) came back. I was to put one on and the other would be put on after surgery. But, I need not have worried - once I got into the bed, I didn't get to leave it.

And now the torture began. After the first surgical nurse left (having divested me of one of the gowns), a second one arrived - carrying a $4 cup of coffee. Sheer torture. Fortunately, he was but a moment and left with coffee intact very shortly. At that point, the anesthesiologist arrived without coffee and talked in detail about what they were going to do and how I would be "under" for the operation.

Those who know the story of a year ago, know that my last major surgery was not exactly a walk in the park going into it. I had shared that with my Dr., but had no idea he had shared it beyond that.

I was very glad to talk to the anesthesiologist and find out that I was NOT going to be given the paralyzing shot so common in operations, but would be a combination of gas and drugs. There was a lot more torture as various surgeons, interns and I swear there was a cleaning person all arrived in front of me - with cups of coffee. One person actually used the table by the end of MY bed to add his sugar ... I was in agony.

I should have paid more attention to the next explanation but I didn't. They were going to give me a nerve block in my upper legs which would relieve most of the pain over the next couple of days. This is important for later.


After that discussion the Dr. came to see me and made the usual poking of the leg, discussion with the nurse that was with him - and merely gave me "THE LOOK" for daring to joke about marking the leg to be operated on with an X. (Some surgeons are known for NOT having a sense of humor - mine included!)

At that point, the anesthesiologist was back with several additions to the IV that had been started in my arm. I felt wonderful!!!! Nothing hurt, I had a good grasp on reality and everything seems fuzzy and sharp at the same time. The bed I was on was the one I would be taken to surgery in - and off down the hall we went. By this point, the meds were beginning to take hold, and I was enthralled by the passing lights, and the people passing by. My mouth seemed a little fuzzy but I think I could still be understood, but frankly I have no idea what I said. Finally, it was through the doors and into the operating. I was feeling so good - getting onto the operating table was no problem. That's because they didn't move me until I was out. The anesthesiologist was talking about the mask in my ear, and it was placed over my nose/mouth and I did as I was told - to breathe deeply.

That was the last I remembered until I woke up in my hospital room. To say it took a few minutes to get focused would be a distinct understatement. Managed to see my daughter sitting in the room, and supposedly asked her if I'd had a good time at the party. I then remember various people suddenly (she says not suddenly, but over a period of time) converging around the bed to "fill me in" on all I needed to know. First off was an explanation of the machine in bed with me making my leg move up to my chest and then back down. A major annoyance during my stay, even if I was grateful that I would keep me from locking up the new knee. Then there was the physical therapist to point out what they would do later (Spanish Inquisition torture for 400 Alex.).

He finally left and the nurse came over to explain the pain pump next to my bed. In my foggy state I did manage to listen as she explained that every time the light came on I could press the button for pain medication. Please make not that she actually said could press it. As she was leaving, the light was on - (cue the Psycho violins here) - so I pressed it. And that's what I did all afternoon to early evening.

I need to do a short explanation here (do I do anything short?). I am not a stoner but not by nature. With my compulsive/impulsive nature people are sometimes surprised. I simply can't. Pot makes me incredibly physically miserable and very sick - which made me a real pain-in-the-butt in the Theater department in college. And none of the rest either because they don't work in my system as -according to everyone else - they should.

So now, I have drugs blocking the pain in my knee, whatever was in the IV dripping away and I'm pressing the pain pump every time the light comes on...which seemed to be about every five minutes. At this point - even my daughter agrees- I had gone from operation drug lingering head long to a 60+ year older stoner (in case you hadn't gotten that!!) I had several cell phone calls I don't remember having, ate two meals which I don't remember and several servings of ice cream - which was available anytime on the floor.

I was blissfully unaware - even though my daughter was telling me at the time I was beyond loopy and heading toward loony!! That blissfully unaware came to an end when I looked at the wallpaper above the sink in my room. I've included a picture of something similar - but mine was more gold, more washed and with some dark in it. (creepy music for 200 Alex) I was looking at the TV on the wall when I realized that the wall paper pattern was moving . . . around the wall. I did what any logical person would do in that situation and closed my eyes several times to see if it would go away.
It didn't.

I realized right away that I was for the very first time in my life completely and absolutely stoned. I will say that it was frankly NOT a good sensation. (OK, DEA did that cover my probation?) I also knew exactly where the problem was and what needed to be done about it. At that point the nurse came in and we both basically started the same conversation . . . which in a nut shell was "the machine has to go." She was trying to be diplomatic about it - I was being blunt. She wanted to re-set the timer (!!??) I wanted the thing gone. And shortly gone it was. Eventually the "trip" came to an end, the wallpaper stopped moving and the fuzz began to clear.

It especially cleared enough for me to concentrate on my nemesis since the beginning of time - the walker. Curse it as much as I did - it wouldn't take the hint and leave. It just laid there against the wall and mocked me!!!

---more tomorrow

A 60+ S_ ONE R ~ Early Evening Thoughts

Picking up from --here--

Everyone knows what a hospital waiting room looks like, sounds like and very often smells like. They are often places of frenetic activity, unintelligible or delivered in code intercom calls . . . and frankly smell like hospital.

I was not prepared for this entrance/waiting room. There was the tranquil sounds of fountains and a full sized grand piano was being played by ghostly hands. OK, that was a slight exaggeration - it was a player grand piano. Turning to the right, there was a marble topped circular desk with someone in coat and tie standing behind it. I was tempted to go outside and see if I had been delivered to a funeral home by mistake. Everything seemed so peaceful and didn't smell. It turns out that the gentleman behind the desk if the first person everyone talks to before entering the rest of the hospital.

He takes your information (actually listening I might add!) and then calls whoever you are supposed to see and they will come an get you. If necessary, he will take you to where you need to go. No wandering aimlessly around the hallways trying to remember if you were told turn left, then right - go up five steps and "shake it all about."

There were several reasons they went with the set-up the way they have it. First of all it help control traffic and also it help convince people that they are known and expected. Of course, visitors check-in and go up to the rooms.

Anyway, hospital registration came out to get me as I waited in nice comfy chairs - by a window wall and listened to the water wall and piano. I was taken to a glass enclosed area to begin the sign all the papers required and make sure all the payments had been recorded. Within a very short delightful time, I had my wrist band and the nurse came and got me for the necessary testing that had to be done.

Before going into the testing area, she took me on a tour of the floor where I would be staying - showed me a room (I was beginning to wonder if I would be expected to buy a time-share plan before I would get out). And we grabbed a fresh cup of coffee from the floor waiting area. Already I was falling in love - they had good coffee!! Once ensconced in the testing area, two nurses went to work on me. The only complaint I had was that one cup of coffee was not going to be able to replace the gallon (so it seemed to me) of blood they drew. OK, the 2nd complaint had to do with those little gluey pads they use for EKG's. But that has more to do with glue and chest hair. . . and there's not much anyone can do about that. And then, we were done. Because I had come in before the day of surgery, I was given a reprieve on arrival time on Friday. I didn't need to be there until 5:30am!! Not much of an improvement, but at that time of day (Is it really a time of day?) I'll take what I can get!!

So now I was free until Friday morning - about 33 hours away. Just enough time to go home, and brace myself for nothing to eat or drink after 10pm on Thursday. Of course, that gave me sometime to surf the net and discover all sorts of things I didn't want to know about the operation. . . and anesthetic. I know I should have stopped reading, but it was as if I was watching a car wreck. I just kept looking.

"Achmed was supposed to pick me up Friday in time to make the 5:30am deadline. At about 5:00am I get a phone call they he can't pick me up, but one of his friends is going to be there and the "friend" knew where the hospital was. "Friend" did NOT know where the hospital was - and "Achmed" was giving him directions the entire way - very loudly - over the cell phone. And we did make the appointed time. Again, check in at desk, registration comes and gets me and I get a wrist band - which includes a picture, by the way. No mistaking who I am that's for sure!! Registration takes me to the surgery floor, and there is the ONLY place I've had to wait for any length of time...along with the others scheduled for early morning surgery.

We did get to laughing as the waiting became a test of endurance. Right across from where we were waiting was an area for families to wait while surgery was being done. The area was filled with coffee, colas and rolls and such. It was very hard to behave - let me tell you. Especially seeing the coffee .... especially the coffee.

Eventually, we were released from the torment and taken back to begin the final part of this story ... and of course the last letter in the hangman puzzle in the heading.

--more tomorrow.

A 60+ S_ O _E R ~ Late Evening Thoughts

Continuing from --last night-- ~

By now the horrors (as I called them) had begun to run out of steam. I had assured all of them that I wasn't going to end up a bed-ridden cripple, that I was not going to have to sell my first born to pay the bills (although when he was growing up ~ ah, let's not go there!) and that whatever path the recovery took I would be just fine ...

I then had D & D to deal with. They had decided that there was no way I was going to be able to go through the operation and recover by myself ~ and that they were going to be there every step of the way. Which normally, I wouldn't have minded ~ but the thought of them fluttering around the hospital bed and then fluttering in and out of my apartment while I was recovering was just a bit more than I wanted to even think about let alone deal with. (hysteria by proxy for 600, Alex)

Don't get me wrong, they have been and are good friends ~ in very defined doses. Fortunately my daughter was taking over that portion of the watch, and she definitely didn't need any help. So, not only would she be around after the operation, but would carefully monitor my being at home.

By this time ~ a week before the operation ~ the hospital, doctor/surgeon's office, anesthesiologist and medical equipment rental decided they would need to be paid. I was informed these people would be calling me and to be prepared for sticker shock.

And I was . . . there was a middle-man in what I was beginning to call "Behind The Operating Room Door" and if you're too young (or too innocent) to get that reference ~ send me an E-mail and I'll send you a link. The reason he was in the middle was his delightful personality, his willingness to help, his lawyer skills and a company American Express that could take the charges and I would then pay back from the inheritance.

None of us knew what anyone was going to charge ~ but as a cash up-front patient, I was sure there would be some kind of discount...which I was prepared to ask for.

Believe it or not, the first call was the hospital and I almost wished I had delayed all this several weeks. After my experience of calling all the "medical center" hospitals ~ I was prepared for 1)rudeness and 2) an astronomical price tag. I received neither. The business office was incredibly helpful and let's just say that I was going to be able to get BOTH knees done for the price of ONE at the other hospitals. (blue light special for 300, Alex)

So, when all the calls were done and everyone had the money they needed ~ I began to stump (I certainly wasn't able to dance!) around the apartment singing "Signed - Sealed - Delivered!" When you have to sit down every few moments to let the knees recover, it somewhat takes the fun out of the celebration!!

The Doctor had given me his instructions on a much copied copy of a copy. But the hospital was quite insistent that I either come down on Wednesday and pre-register and get the necessary paperwork and test done, or I would have to do the morning before surgery. Dear me, what a difficult choice!! (Remember, I'm the one that wasn't sure 5am was an actual time of day!) So, Wednesday afternoon it was off to find the hospital and get the tests done.

Since I'm still not driving (that IS going to change no matter what my son-in-law says!!) I either take the bus or a taxi. In this case, taxi seemed preferable. . . that way two of us could get lost. At this time I had a driver that I used all the time. He was quite good, knew the city and we had a number of pleasant conversations. He was Muslim and spent most of the trips discussing religion with me ... I had always maintained that iron sharpens iron ... and as the conversations were never arguments I had begun to look forward to them. Of course, I referred to him to my daughter and my friends as "Achmed, the dead terrorist.***" Knowing that if I every accidentally called him that or explained it . . . I would be in deep trouble. (non-famous deaths for 600, Alex)

Off we went - I had the address and the approximate location of the hospital, he was convinced, as always, that I had no idea where it was and he did. The discussion was lively and interesting ~ but alas, he is too serious to have much of a sense of humor. But that certainly never stopped his trying to convert me and/or all in my family.

We did find the hospital (I was right ~ he wasn't but never admitted it) and I walked into one of the biggest surprises I've had in a long, long time.

---more tomorrow and another clue in the hangman puzzle of the title

*** for those of you you didn't understand the Achmed reference ~ here is ventriloquist Jeff Dunham and Achmed. My grand kids think he is hysterical, however we did have to explain to the youngest that going through one of the box stores saying loudly: "silence ~ I kill you!" was not really a good idea!!!

Erin Go . . . ~ Late Evening Thoughts

To say that last week was interesting would be an understatement. It was a wild, intense and one where a lot was accomplished. Not easily ~ not always with charm ~ not always without some stress. But then the weekend had arrived and I was "good to go." Little did I know it should have gotten up and gone!

I was especially looking forward to Sunday when someone that I have gotten to know quite well and I were going to have a quick sandwich and coffee at a small streetside cafe and then spend the afternoon exploring Half Price Books. We had arranged to meet at the cafe around 1:30 in the afternoon. This would still give plenty of time for enjoying the book store. Around 10:00 in the morning I began to get text messages and then phone calls changing the time and location of where we were to meet. Finally I told that the place we would meet would be La Strada. (cue mournful music here.) This establishment was an attempt at an upscale Italian restaurant. Fortunately, they managed the upscale and the upscale price part. Unfortunately, (as far as I was concerned) they didn't manage the food part.

I decided that I would have some dessert and let that be that.
I headed out on the adventure of the day. (cue Psycho violins here.)

When I arrived at the place, I realized even before I got to the door, there had been a change. The place was very noisy...very noisy. I though maybe it was because the windows on the street were open but then as I approached the door I had the reality hit me ~ this was not the case at all.

The upscale restaurant had become (on Sundays) a 21 (barely) and up (barely) party central location. It's a little hard to remain upscale when all the drinks are being served in plastic glasses - coffee in foam cups!! And the place was packed. I realized that probably 80% of the boys "guy's" voices hadn't changed (21??) and NONE of the women's voiced had progressed beyond grade school. It was as if I were at a Hanna Montana concert that was never going to start.

My friend? He was at the bar trying very hard to get under it - I think. To say that he had been drinking his lunch would have been been an understatement. He had used all the breakfast, dinners AND lunches for three weeks or more. I am now surrounded by people in high-pitched shriek(s) and a very intoxicated friend who is pawing me and giving me bone crushing bear hugs inbetween telling me what I was going to do and asking me for money. Great conversation points there!!

And, of course, Monday was St. Patrick's Day . . . I found something very interesting and decided to end tonight's post with these VERY clever cell phone charms from Japan. They are called the 6 stages of drunkenness ~

the first stage is the lecture stage: "Let me tell you something ... over and over and over...










The rest and the conclusion tomorrow ...