Monday, August 24, 2015

Hair - history revisited

Last night I took a walk down memory lane.  I saw a production of the rock musical Hair.  The performance values were great.  The voices were great.  And the flood of memories is great.

The 1960's were a turbulent time in the history of America.  Those are the years of my youth into adulthood.  Eisenhower was the first president I have a memory of.  He seemed to me a nice grandfatherly person.  He and Mamie felt safe.  There was a cold war going on - the Russians were our enemies.  But Ike and Mamie kept us safe.  From there we floated into a brief period of optimism - Kennedy was elected and all the world seemed bright and rosy and possible.

With shocking swiftness that ended with Kennedy's assassination, swiftly followed by Bobby Kennedy and Martin Luther King.  Viet Nam heated up and became nightly news.  Kent State happened.  America was breaking apart.  Just like now.

Sunday, August 2, 2015

My dad died 29 years and 3 days ago.  I really miss him.  He lives on through me and my family, but his real physical presence is what I miss.  He was the wise touch stone in my life. I hear him talking to me still, but I long for new words for the new places I’ve traveled since we parted.

I walk these paths for both of us.

Friday, June 19, 2015

Learning to breath

Somehow I get myself in a pickle, over and over and over.  You'd think I'd have figured out by now that I'm not responsible for saving anyone and that I'm powerless to change anything but me.  Nevertheless, I find myself running as fast as I can to pick up the pieces for those around me, so their life is nicer and smoother.  In the process I give up my time, money, and sanity.  THEN, I get resentful.


I'm feeling a bit lost the past few days.  My Mom's memory is taking some sever hits and her short term memory is really really short - like gone in an instant.  As she loses her autonomy I am losing my history and being forced to step up.  I feel more like stepping out and away.  I want to run.
I need a familiar.

Wednesday, March 4, 2015


Just spent time writing a new post, the phone rang, I went to help my friend find some info on the internet, accidentally closed the Blogger window and POOF - gone.  Time gone, thoughts gone, post gone.

Kind of a metaphor for how helping too much goes.

Monday, March 2, 2015

When I help

When I help my adult children, am I really helping?  Or am I crippling them? Is my help a sop to my vanity?  Or is it a sincere effort to lift them up?  Are my ideas of how to live life even relevant to their lives?  Sometime I think it is time for me to go off to the forest and live a hermit's life and let my kids fend for themselves.  After all, they are in their 30's, they should have a clue by now.

Saturday, February 28, 2015

Too Bad I Can't Drive and Write

When I'm driving in my car, I can think of a million topics for blogging.  I sort and edit and drill down to the meat of the subjects.  When I'm confronted with a big white screen and a row of tools, all my pithy remarks go poof.

Lately I've been pondering how much I did like how things were done in the past.  I don't want to do away with computers and smart phones and beautiful HDTV, but I miss the human touch of "the olden days."  I liked dialing "O" for operator and getting a human - not a phone tree.  I liked calling my local newspaper and the person answering had my accent and was located in my town; not the Philippines.  There was better connection with local human interaction, instead of computers and far away helpers.  There is something nice about being able to say "did it rain at your house" as a conversation starter and know that the person on the other end lives, just like you, in an area that just had thunderstorms roll through after months of drought.

The local human touch seems to have gone poof.

Thursday, February 26, 2015

Bedeviled is how I feel when dealing with government employees and agencies.  I feel mired in a point of view that doesn't seem to care about my limited resources of time and money.  They can spin wheels, and ask minute questions, and re-convein meetings to read documents, while I am paying with my hard earned time and money.

My days a filled already.  How am I to carve time for these intrusive investigations?  And what is the outcome to be?  I do my paperwork truthfully and as carefully as I can.  I have no extra funds, but they seem bent on pursuing me.

As I child I read a story about Brier Rabbit and how he got stuck in a Brier patch by a tar baby.  The more he pushed and pulled to get free, the deeper he was sucked in.  While the story is little told in these days of political correctness, that is exactly how I feel.  I am Brier Rabbit and the government is the Tar Baby.  If I fight or defend myself, I will be sucked deeper and deeper until I disappear in the tar patch.

Wednesday, February 25, 2015


Writing was a joy.  It was like painting with words.  Once upon a time words had color and texture.  Laying them on a page made me pause as I teased out the images I wanted to share.

Today I was driving and listening to NPR as they talked about politics in Chicago and then in Washington D.C.  Later a program came on about Sacramento political doings.  A few days ago I read a blog about Advertising and how it started with the snake in the Garden of Eden.  All this spinning of ideas and words - it all gives me a giant headache.  Words used to feel friendly.  Now I feel like they are something to be wary of.

Fine print - be ware

Trust me - be ware

News - be ware

Words from the mouth of any one over the age of 7 - be ware

How to find friendly words again?

Set the example - tell the truth

Say what you feel

Say when you don't know

Ask  and then LISTEN