The next time you’re facing a question of value; should I buy the quality shoes or spend the extra money for the better “this or that?” Remember this: If you have a $10 head, buy a $10 helmet. Translation; You’re worth it!
To be a parent to a child, I had no idea what to do. No handbook to guide me, so of course, one became two. Then two became three as my sanity waned. When three became five, sanity then ran away; it’s face now on a poster, wanted for escape.
All grown up, they’ve since moved away. They’re chasing their dreams in the most excellent of ways. We cherish the moments when they call or come stay, but we seem more like friends, than parents these days.
Oh, and sanity called me just the other day, to say hello and see if I’m ok. But at the mention of grandchildren, sanity groaned in pain, then just like old times, hung up and fled; as some things don’t change.
To be a friend to my children, I have no idea what to do. No handbook to guide me…
Staring into the churning abyss, the sailor fell to his knees, defeated by the raging waters of the sea. He layed down upon the wooden deck of his beloved, holding her close; hope waning, as wave after wave of the dreaded Nor’easter crashed mercilessly over her valiant rails.
Fiercely, she fought back against the towering waves, desperate to ward off it’s dark green waters, so eager to claim her. She must protect the sailor, who once saved her from the savage effects of time, earning her eternal love, from the fate that awaits all ships who dare leave the safety of the protected harbor.
The sailor had brought her from the bitter edge of ruin, finding deep within her hull, a fragile yet beating heart. He had searched where all others had failed and with tender care, returned her to the soothing waters. She became the sailor’s every passion and together they sailed the world’s oceans, making love to the sea, as the stars of the heavens guided their way.
But all is lost, for neither possessed the strength to fight the great sea further. Together in the end, finding passions’ last embrace; the ship and her beloved yield to the sea, who draws them inward, away from the land where the sun’s light warms the sails and the sailor, both now destined to remain in the peaceful depths of Neptune’s watery realm, where lives the souls of those, who born under the sign of water, return home once again.
Clearly, I’m missing something here. An Olympic curler has been accused of doping. Is there a rigorous activity I’ve overlooked? Some nuance that has escaped my eagle-like eyes? Let’s see,
Curling: One person shoves a flat rock-thing across an icy surface, then stares at it intensely. Then, two other people try and stay ahead of it as it moves slowly across the ice, sweeping the rock-thing’s desired path with brooms, hoping it will stop where they want it to. Oddly, it reminds me of shuffleboard; without the senior citizens.
Did I miss anything? It seems that at worst, you might fall on your ass or get a splinter from the broom.
Doping? I hope not.
It’s early in the morning and I’d like to turn on the TV. Ultimately though, that would lead to the national news and their dreaded panels or the local news where I would learn whose tractor flipped over or how the local chess team did. Other than that, it’s commercials about erectile dysfunction, Flo selling insurance or someone reminding me of how I should be feeling about an issue, which is frustrating and annoying. Keeping an opinion to yourself, is apparently a “cop out” in today’s world.
I get it though, we are in trouble. As a society, we’ve actually ground to a halt; paralyzed. The media, the people, the politicians; it’s either “this way or that”. Compromising, which used to be an act of meeting in the middle, is now seen as “giving in”; failing to get your way or “selling out” your cause. We are inundated daily with opinions and being forced to choose a side; and that side had better agree with the “popular” position or you will suffer certain backlash from their group. Well today, I’ll be Nero while Rome burns. If me not engaging in this mess matters that much, then burn baby, burn, we’ll rebuild again tomorrow.
I don’t feel like turning on the TV or fighting with those who disagree with whatever position I have or don’t have and I definitely don’t care whether the chess team won or lost. Today, I don’t want to hear your opinion and tomorrow’s not looking too good either. However, erectile dysfunction is something to ponder, as I am getting older, so I might need to watch that commercial again.
No, I think I’ll just read a good book this morning and watch the sunrise. We’re still allowed to do that, right?
It’s winter, it’s cold and I can’t Travel. Things could get darker…
The end of our existence began with the last desperate gasp of a dying child; not as written in the ancient texts, but in silence, without even the faintest hint of a whisper.
The Soul of humanity stirred and was awoken from slumber by the wretched stench of human cruelty. Borne of the Creation, and dormant to remain until the glorious twilight of Mankind, the Soul peered about the world and was heartbroken; as this was not what was meant to be.
Mankind, still in it’s infancy, was thriving amidst the chaos and misery of its own creation. Once before, mankind’s presence was washed from this earthly sphere only to return having learned nothing but vengeance. But, long ago, Heaven had made a promise of which it had no intention to fail. The Soul of Humanity then foresaw the end of Mans’ reign, not by Celestial hand as foretold, but by the hand of mankind, upon itself.
With great sadness, Humanities’ Soul cried out to Heaven and begged reprieve. For each human was given a blessed soul, now tortured and in pain, as humanity eagerly embraced apathy and greed. Many souls longed to leave their earthly prison and return to the calm tendered within the Gate’s of St. Peter.
Heaven then opened wide the Great Book, so drawn to the page where the ancient Promise was recorded by the hand of the Almighty, and with labored sigh, sadly conceded; granting to each soul the choice of it’s destiny.
The fleeing souls wept, leaving humanity to suffer it’s fate while a courageous few remained behind, having decided their charge worthy. Humanity continued about it’s path towards oblivion, having failed to even noticed the loss, for it had stopped listening, long ago, to the desperate plea’s of their precious soul.
Heaven then closed the Great Book and peered towards the earth, refusing to intervene further in the destructive path of Man; promising only to return, once again, when the descendent’s of Adam have destroyed themselves and the earth from within.
As a white male, this is a tragic assessment of my gender. There is no science, behavioral or biological, that can explain away our unforgivable behavior.
I simply cannot find words that are strong enough to describe my bewilderment at “the why”. What the !@?# is wrong with us? Is it a physical or a chemical thing? “I’m sorry sir, I’m afraid you’ve been diagnosed with a terminal case of Male. Unfortunately, it’s incurable and you’re just going to have to live with being an asshole.” Think I’m overreacting? Test question:
What is the gender of every School shooter, Church shooter, Public Event shooter, Highway shooter, Shopping Mall shooter and Military Base shooter? Who is plowing into crowds with a vehicle, hi-jacking planes, car-jacking cars, stabbing people in crowds and who is also most likely to shoot up a restaurant, rob you, assault you or rape you? Who is also most likely to be banned from living within X number of feet from a school? Who is starting forest fires, abusing animals and most likely to drive stupid? Hint: Males
I genuinely believe that if an “animal” species’ behavior was this bad, we’d be exterminating them or at the very least, controlling their numbers. Actually, I think we do that with bulls. Maybe the problem and it’s solution have been staring us right in the face the whole time; Balls.
It’s easy to blame guns, society, bad parenting, politics or Bugs Bunny, but at the end of the day, the true problem is patently obvious; he’s walking the streets and waiting at a crime scene near you.
Until we wake up and face reality, these tragedies are going keep happening especially when the cause is in charge of fixing the problem.
Why a bow and not a ring? Symbolism. “With this ring, I promise undying love and eternal devotion”. Those are nice words. What do they mean though? Undying love and eternal devotion!? I’m a practical guy. Did either of you make the rings? No. How about the ring’s maintenance? Well, don’t lose it and clean it once in a while, right? That sounds easy enough. Symbolism.
A bow starts as a single piece of string and requires two hands (a couple), working together, to make it into a bow. If it begins to come undone, it takes two hands, each pulling gently on a loop to strengthen it once again. One hand can’t maintain a bow alone, but two can. One hand, pulling a loose string, can easily change a beautiful bow back into a single piece of string. Symbolism
Two hands to build it, two hands keep it together. The rings you buy, the bows you make. Symbolism