The Season of Red and Green

Red and Green are the two colors most-associated with Christmas, and there are many conflicting meanings behind them, depending on religion and region of the world, as well as the origin of the tree.  For Christians, the color green is a natural representation of eternal life... specifically, the evergreen tree and how it survives through the winter season. That’s why, in Christian belief, green represents the eternal life of Jesus Christ. The color red symbolizes Christ’s blood which was shed during his crucifixion.  Back in the 14th century, churches put on miracle plays and, traditionally, on December 24th, they put on the Paradise Play... the story of Adam and Eve.  And in place of an apple tree in the garden (since they weren’t available in winter), they fastened apples to the branches of a pine tree. Using a pine to represent the Tree of Good and Evil became a common practice among churches and they began incorporating the tree into their Christmas displays each year. But it didn’t stop there...following the church’s example, people began assembling pine trees in their homes and decorating them with red apples.  Nowadays, green (money) and red (in the red/going into debt) seems to represent the colors more accurately... or maybe being green with envy that someone got to the sales rack before you got a chance to trample and bludgeon them to a red, bleeding mess on the floor in the Missies Separates department of the local Walmarts... but I digress.  Lost is the real meaning of the season... spending quality time with your friends and family in simple tradition and religious observance.

There's been quite a stir lately, and I'm not talking about the creatures that are stirring... not even the mouse.  It's with the whole war on Christmas debate... I think Christians are feeling like people are trying to take the Christ out of Christmas... while non-believers either want equal time for all religions (and that to be recognized by Christians (a losing battle, I think)) or for it to be kept out of public places altogether.  Even my fellow Atheists got into the picture with their Flying Spaghetti Monster as a symbol of the (non)holiday.  Mostly considered a parody religion, The Church of the Pastafarian is a movement against the teaching of creationism in public schools, and displays of the monster are popping up all over the country, right next to the nativity scene in town squares.  And although this is a fairly idiotic and funny representation, it does convey the message that no one religion is more superior to another and people can worship what they choose.  But this post isn't about that argument... although, personally, I think Christmas should be more about the religious meaning (even if I don't believe in it) than the commercialized adaptation that we currently have.  

As a landscaper, if there was a religion out there that worshipped nature and the earth/science, I would be in the front pew bright and early on a Sunday morning wearing a big, fat, say-something hat.  I think we take for granted what we do to the earth with our carbon footprint, fracking, pollution and raping the forests... which brings me to the Christmas tree.  If there's anything that gets my goat more, it's when someone gets a live tree for two weeks and throws it out on the curb.  Some 34 million trees are cut down for the holiday and, while you can argue that it spurs the economy or it can be mulched and reused, it's still not right.  Trees recycle carbon dioxide and convert it into oxygen for us to breathe, as well as clean the air.  If you take a walk in the woods and get an elated feeling... that's clean air at work.  Besides the air, their root system combats sun, water and wind erosion and trees provide shade, altering temperatures and resources needed, and shelter for animals, fruits, nuts, berries and maple syrup, as well as other foods for humans and animals.  When the branches and leaves decompose, they provide nourishment to make the soil fertile for regrowth and the wood for building and other needs.  Trees are necessary for the circle of life.

While it's probably too late for this year, as you've probably already murdered (red) an unsuspecting pine... perhaps you can take some of this into consideration and choose a different (green) option next year.  There are more and more places where you can get a live, rooted tree in a pot that you can decorate and use indoors for the holiday and then replant in your yard when the season is over.  In fact, a friend of mine does just this... she has a whole grove of trees in her backyard that she planted over several years.  Instead of just having a symbol of Christmas for a few weeks a year and then pitching it on the curb, you can look out and see each year... even decorating them reflecting the memories of that year... and starting a new tradition for your family, as well as benefit the environment.

Whether you celebrate Christmas or some other holiday (that I won't pretend to know how to spell or pronounce), here's wishing everyone the best of luck, health and happiness in the coming year.

Pope-on-a-Rope

I have been told that I write a lot of posts on religion, especially for an Atheist, and I suppose a lot of what I write is to discredit it... but not in the sense of placing myself in a position of superiority (as most Catholics do) but, rather, in an attempt to understand it in my head... something that has been a life-long pursuit of mine.  In my blog, I am able to work through my issues and concerns, and religion has been both for me.  I guess if it wasn't for the hypocrisy of the Church and it's people, the cover-up of the pedophilia and that religion is most often at the heart of the cause of war, I would just block it out.  But when it infringes on my rights and aspects of my life (as well as government and education), it's hard to ignore.   I am not well-versed on the many religions in the world so, for the sake of argument, the source of my angst is Christianity.

For me, it's simple.  As I stated in the past, I am a realist with a huge belief in science and the tangible.  And while I think there may have been a cool dude named Jesus, I think that most of it is a hoax to get people to act a certain way, which actually isn't such a bad thing, depending on what's the actual directive they are trying to preach.  If you remove the idea of where you're going when you're dead (heaven and hell), to me, the rest is just following the teachings of Jesus... which is trying to be the best person you can be.  Even with the idea of a higher power, it's really just a lesson in humility.  I'm not even sure why there is religion, except for the part of trying to control people and making people feel better about death and the things that happen to them that they cannot, on their own, control or rationalize.  It's not surprising that most religious people are not rooted in science, for it would totally denounce their whole belief system.  It must be difficult to have your whole being based off a book that is mired in ambiguity and confusion.  How can the cornerstone book of an organization created to lead (control) it's followers be so unclear?  The book, written by man, is open for interpretation... and THAT'S where the problem lies.  That, and the ideal that one's religion is superior to another.  If followers could wrap their heads around the fact that their religion isn't the law of the land, we all would be better off.  Be careful what you wish for Christians... prayer in school could very well mean pagan rituals or a moment to rub the belly of the Buddha... or, dare we imagine, sitting down on the floor facing Mecca.  It's all a possibility, technically.  Wow, the PTA meetings would be awesome to see... who's bringing the snacks and refreshments?

Religion has many intersections.  The hardest for me to understand is with politics.  The Republicans are generally a religious folk, which is contradictory to their policy.  It has been proven that the RNC uses the religious to get votes by riling their hotspots... gays and abortion... at voting time to get their agenda through.  The teachings of Jesus tell us to love one another... don't worship both God and money... and to take care of the sick and poor and, yet, that is the antithesis of the foundation of the Republican principles. They treat women like crap, hate gays, are racist towards minorities, they are full of greed and worship the dollar, and oppose health care and any other program that helps the people that they, pretty much, trampled all over to get on top.  This couldn't be illustrated more perfectly than by the reaction of some Christians and Republicans towards the new Pope, Francis.  The first Latino Pope and first Jesuit, it seems like they finally, after 266 tries, got it right.  He has shunned the elaborate pomp and circumstance of the previous papal and has used public transportation.  He has come out swinging against the condition of the present-day complacency of the Church, urging it to return to it's focus on the truly needy... against capitalism at the expense of the poor... against priestly celibacy... against inequality...  and has a different view on abortion and gay marriage... and people in the church and the RNC are pissed about it.  Imagine him, spreading the Word of the Lord.

Let's face it, religion is part cult and part business, albeit "not-for-profit" (lol).  People are touting him for his views on business... but this could be the best financial shot-in-the-arm that the Church desperately needs to survive.  With followers dropping like flies, even the Atheists are loving this guy.  In my opinion, if you are going to follow your faith, then you should actually do just that... spread the teachings of Jesus... and who better to do this than Pope Francis, the people's Pope.  A few weeks ago, he sent out a questionnaire to all parishioners asking their opinion on several ideals, of which he intends to use to make changes to outdated, archaic ideals and to draw more people in and, with his shaking things up and cleaning up the Church, he could be the soap-on-a-rope Pope that they need.  I just hope that the rope isn't around his neck, as I fear for his life because of his not-so-radical (by non-Church standards) view... because people can be adverse to change... especially when it's for the good... in this case, of mankind.

Giving Thanks

I don't know what it is... I always get this depressed feeling that overcomes me on holidays.  I feel blah whether there are people around or not.  It's just something that happens, and I've learned to just give in to it and get the day over.  Since my Mom passed December of '94, followed by my Uncle, Aunt and my dog, all in the month of December, the holidays aren't a great time for me in general.  And other than going to my past boyfriend's family get-togethers over the years and, more recently, my friend Robin's house for dinner, my Dad and I just try to get through the day.  Sometimes he'll cook for us... and when I say cook, I mean open up a package of broccoli in fake cheddar sauce, a can of corn, some Stove-Top stuffing, some pop-n-fresh biscuits and a small pre-cooked ham in a can.  The only thing missing is a plate of stacked toast and a basket of popcorn, and it's a Charlie Brown Thanksgiving.  Oh well, it's simple and it gives him something to do, and I'm fortunate to still have him with me, so I appreciate these times as if they were borrowed.  After supper (which is usually around noon because he has nothing else to do so he starts cooking at 9am), he'll go watch some football game and I either go in my room and watch movies or I'll go to the hotel to blow leaves since the parking lot is always empty on Thanksgiving, finishing up the last few days of my landscaping contract for the year, until March when I start all over again.

There's so much hustle and bustle around the holidays.  You spend all this time running around making this huge meal, not to mention all the clean up... and it's scarfed down in 12 minutes... just about the amount of minutes of the football game's half-time... coincidence?... I think not.  In the past, all stores are closed and that makes me claustrophobic.  Like my Aunt, I need to get out of the house every day whether I need anything or not... it just breaks the day up and breaks my cabin fever.  This year, many of the stores have hours on Thanksgiving, which is blasphemous... after sitting down to a family meal giving thanks for what you have, we then camp out and trample others alive to get things that we don't need, all to save a few bucks.  We are a strange bunch, that's for sure.

I remember the holidays when I was younger.  Like good Pittsburghers, everything was cooked in the oven in the basement and most parties took place there as well.  If you're not from here, don't ask why celebrations were held in the basement... they just were... there's no logic to it.  There always seemed to be a foot of snow on the ground and I'd have to go out and shovel a path in the yard for our dog, even though he never actually walked on the path.  When he came inside, I'd have to pick the snowballs out of his fur.  My Aunt and Uncles would come over for Thanksgiving and we'd all sit down in the fancy big table room, one of the few times we'd be allowed in there and not have to eat a meal off a metal TV tray.  Being Italian, most times my Mom would make spaghetti... or ham... which was good she didn't make a turkey because if there's one thing my Mom was really good at, it was making meat dry as fu@k.  I think I still have a pair of loafers made out of her pot roast... leathery and dry.  Thank goodness for applesauce, which I put on top of everything to get it to go down.  There was always black olives, pepperoni and some sort of stinky-ass cheese that my Dad would pick up and they always went in the same bowl or dish, year after year.  The Christmas decorations always went up the Sunday following Thanksgiving and down the day after New Years... and they always went exactly in the same exact spot every year with no deviation.  I would help my Dad make pizzelles as he made smelts at the same time and the house smelled like fish and anise... which, I'm fairly sure, is what my Aunts with the mustaches wore for perfume.  On Christmas eve, I would crawl into my brother's bed and my Mom would sit on the edge and read us The Night Before Christmas.  Now, I just wish that my brother would crawl back under the rock from whence he came.  Times change. 

As you get older, you realize that it wasn't so much about what bowl you used... or what you had for dinner... or where a certain decoration was hung... but, rather, it was about being with your family, as screwed up and dysfunctional as they were.  And as there are fewer and fewer around, you appreciate the ones that you have left... and cherish the memories.

Kiss My Ash

A volcano is usually located upon unstable earth, like where the tectonic plates are rubbing the wrong way.  The friction causes cracks in the surface, breaking it down... and the lava and gases escape from deep down, erupting into a fiery explosion.  Lava spews out and flows downward, destroying everything in it's path.  The toxic gases and ash fill the air, which falls to the ground in a blanket of suffocation, making it impossible for anything to grow until the air clears and the ground can be rehabbed.  And while this is definitely the volcanic process, it's also very much like our coping system in that when we are at our limits... when we are unstable... and rubbed the wrong way... and a situation breaks down... we 'explode' from deep within and spew a wrath of toxic fire and gases, damaging everything in our path, making it impossible to turn back.  Most destructive, though, is the ash fallout, because it leaves us suffocated and gray and dead and choking and empty and stays with us, making it impossible for us to grow and move on.  Sure, the release was fulfilling for a few minutes, but rebuilding is a daunting task, and will take a long time to heal the damage.

I can relate completely to the volcano analogy at this point in my life.  I can't put my finger on when it may have begun for me... perhaps I've always been like this... I'm not sure... it may just be who I am.  But, lately, I've been noticing my increased irritability more and more, not only in my friendships and relationships, but with my family and other social situations as well.  Things like politics and religion are hot buttons for me, but it doesn't take much, no matter what it is, to set me off.  After the last election, I had to purposely not watch anything having to do with politics or the news in general because I had had enough.  Dealing with people's stupidity, ever increasingly, it seems, in this country... with all the hypocrisy, disrespect and injustice that we see every day.  The pressures of the economy and the state of world affairs... dealing with my elder relatives and family... the slow deterioration of my body... and the seeking of a new challenge apart from my current business... all contributing to my fragile state of trying to just survive and for what, I don't know.  My life feels so joyless any more, like I'm just around for the sake of those who benefit from me in some way.  Most of it is like pure torture, just trying to get through each day.

I don't know how to deal with it and what the cure is any more.  In the past, I'd buy a new car, up and move, get a dog, quit a job, date someone new, buy a new outfit, or take a vacation.  That used to work.  Now, I've turned into a bit of a recluse, absolutely loving my time by myself.  Nothing pleases me more than laying in bed by myself watching my progrums, just hoping to not be interrupted and having complete control over the whole situation.  Or do some activity where I can isolate myself from agitation of any kind or people.  This past year, I've removed so many people from my life that were sucking the life out of me, disrespecting me or that were just plain annoying.  My tolerance is so thin.  I know it's not healthy, but I feel trapped.  I'm a volcano, waiting to erupt.  Sometimes I wonder if I'm removing myself from the problems or if I'm the problem.  And while I'm not the angry type that would take it out on someone, least of all physically, I can't deny that it doesn't impact my life and those around me in other ways. 

Perhaps I'm reading too much into it.  I look around on Facebook or the country or the world and see others reacting in the same manner.  There's so much arguing and it seems like everyone is in attack mode, ready to snap someone's head off.  There seems to be a complete break down of manners, social grace, tolerance and just basic humanity.  Instead, it's been replaced with anger and bigotry and hypocrisy and intolerance and hate.  There's so much noise, it's deafening.  At a time when the country should be coming together, we couldn't be more separated, and it's scary.  Maybe we're all suffocating in the ash fallout from all that's been going on, and we're all just fighting for our lives with our sense of survival scratching our way out of it.  Regardless, it's not the way I want to live.  I need to find a new way to cope or let things go.  I need to find a way out of it, clear the air and rebuild.

Trying to Keep it Realigion

Growing up, I believed in a higher being without question... one who could always see what I was doing... good and bad... and that led me to do the right thing, using a reward and punishment system.  He was the one that I looked up to the sky and prayed to on occasion for something that I needed... one that brought me great joy, especially around the birth of the Son... and although I've never actually seen proof of his being, I know he was real.  It was written and there are pictures, so therefore it must be.  Besides, when I prayed for that Easy Bake Oven, there it was under the tree on Christmas morning.  Yes... Santa (you assumed I was referring to God?) was, indeed, real.  And then I grew up.  I found out how my letter to Santa was infiltrated by my parents, who then went to K-mart to fill the list... I found out who ate the cookies I put out for Santa and how the carrots I put out for Rudolph ended up in the back yard feeding the plain-old, regular, not so 'rein' deer.  And, lastly, I learned how a bad little shit like me who didn't get coal in his stocking once... not once, was calling the shots.  The gig was up and my parents lost a lot of leverage the year I stopped believing in Santa.  In my eyes, the parallels between Santa and God are uncanny.  And no matter how much I read the Bible or how many different denominational churches I attended over time, the idea of God isn't one that I can accept.  Yes, Virginia... I am an atheist.

I have always been a free-thinker, grounded in science and logic.  I remember when I was younger, asking questions about religion that no one seemed to have the answers.  In such a big book where it's all spelled out, it doesn't say much that I can wrap my head around as an explanation.  I bought several Bibles, spoke to several people who, supposedly, were experts and, yet, my questions were never answered, at least in a way not followed by 'because, that's what it says... don't ask questions".  Add to it that most religious people act anything but holy (hypocrites) and the whole 'say-5-Hail-Mary's-and-you're-forgiven' procedure that seems to undermine doing the right thing to begin with, and logic goes out the window along with the baby Jesus and the bathwater.  I suppose that's why I have no 'Faith', because I can't just let go and believe when it makes no sense... and, let's face it... it's all about blind trust when you are talking about God (or Santa, for that matter).  It's better to believe when you are younger, before you know any better.  It's no wonder why I'm a non-believer.

Atheism is defined as the rejection of belief in the existence of deities, or gods.  From there, it get's more confusing.  Apparently there are all kinds of classifications and stipulations.  It's not as simple as you believe or don't... for example, since babies and children neither believe or disbelieve (since they cannot reject something they are unaware of and cannot consciously reject), they are called implicit atheists... while those who make a conscious effort to disbelieve are explicit atheists.  Further, it is broken down to negative (belief in other forms of a higher, non-theological power, such as spiritual, supernatural or transcendental (Agnosticism, Hinduism, Buddhism and Taoism)) and positive (no higher power whatsoever).  I am a positive explicit atheist.  Atheism, in it's simplest definition, is the absence, indifference, exclusion and unawareness of/from any religious motivation. And this is where it gets dicey for me... that bit about active exclusion from the problems of Gods and religion from intellectual pursuit and practical action... this shit both fascinates me and angers me.  There's no ignoring it.  I can't help but be involved.  But I am more fascinated by the people who believe than the content of religion itself.  I've never seen anything that is so vastly interpreted.

In true Gemini fashion, I have several views on religion that contradict each other.  On one hand, I have no belief in any of it and despise everything to do with organized religion, especially their charitable tax exclusion, pedophilia, cafeteria-style beliefs system and how religion is usually behind war.  On the other hand, I highly respect someone who follows the Bible to the letter (or at least the teachings of Jesus).  I have respect for those who have their beliefs.  I capitalize "God" and "The Word"... and I don't participate in Christmas so as not to be hypocritical.  I take my hat off in a church and I wouldn't litter on church grounds.  I believe in the teachings of Jesus and I think he'd be a great guy to be friends with.  I support people to believe what they want to believe, no matter in what they worship, as long as they don't push their agenda on me or hurt anyone.  I don't feel I am any better or any worse than anyone else.  I am happy with my rationale and I'm not afraid to not believe.  Unless Jesus walks into Starbucks and orders a venti half-caff crème brulee latte in front of me, I don't think my non-believing is ever going to change.  I will be cremated and my ashes returned to the earth, from which they came.  Actually, if there is something that I worship, it is this earth and it's delicate balance.  I will live my life on this planet to the fullest, knowing that my life... past, present, future and beyond... ends when I do.  I'm ok with that.

Rachet Isn't Tight Any More

Like a poly-cotton sock that wears thin, so has the use of the word RACHET. I'm introducing a new word and have included several examples of the use of the word...

 

"She is so jigsaw, cause no one puts baby in a corner"
"That bitch is jigsaw, cause she's missing a few key pieces of the puzzle"
"Don't make me go jigsaw on you and cut you like a serrated blade"
"Her outfit is jigsaw cause there's too many curves and the pieces don't fit"
"His wiener is jigsaw cause it takes too long to complete and I lose interest"
"Her stories are so jigsaw because you never what the fuck until she's all done"
"That bitch is jigsaw cause she only makes sense on the outside of the package"
"Their timed sex is so jigsaw because there's only one way it comes together"
"Her remarks are so jigsaw because they're steely and cut right through you"

 

Following Procedure with a Cereal Drama

As a child of the 90's 70's, I'm not ashamed to admit that I watch way too much TV.  We were sat down when our homework was done as soon as we got home from school in front of the giant 35" color console 12" black-and-white screen with 276 5 channels (depending on the weather and how you stood on your head or moved around the room blocking the signal) to watch educational programming Ultra-Man... and my Mom would provide us with a delicious and nutritious dinner Hungry Jack TV dinner that she prepared herself popped in the oven for twenty minutes.  My favorite was the steak tartar pork and beans one because not only did you get little wieners in beans, but it also came with two desserts... baked apples and a triangular chocolate "cake".  Nothing was good good enough for us as far as my Mom was concerned, and she made it her mission to make sure that we had enough protein and vitamins sugar in us to make it long enough through getting our homework done, but not long enough to have us hyper while she was watching her progrums later that evening.  We used to watch Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom, Falcon Crest and The Carol Burnett Show, which was my Mom's favorite.  I swear, I thought she was going to piss her pants bust a gut laughing.  She would knit smoke Pall Mall's all evening while my Dad oiled our baseball mitts snored in his electric easy chair and my brother and I sat quietly helping each other with our homework and discussing our day at school pulled each other's hair and kicked each other upside the head.  Yes, we were the model 70's family... a page right out of a Norman Bates journal Rockwell picture book.

I always fancied the procedural drama where the show takes place in court of law or in a crime scene.  It makes me feel smartical when I could figure out 'who dunnit' before it was revealed.  Perhaps the most watched in the history of TV was who shot J.R. in the long-running, critically-acclaimed and recently-revamped Dallas.  I always wanted to be a Ewing... mostly Pam because she had that zippy Mercedes and got to sleep with Bobby.  I could faintly smell the aroma of oil on me as I religiously watched and pretended to be the long-lost cousin or something in a 7 episode arc. 

Nowadays, I'm a sucker for the dramas and I tape them all.  The Good Wife and Revenge are my favorites.  Long-gone are the days of setting up the VCR, making sure that you don't tape over another progrum you haven't seen yet... and God forbid the plastic tabs were poked out or you didn't have the TV turned on the right channel or the VCR set to channel 3 or 4... you might not have gotten to see the show, forever lost without OnDemand.  My DVR is filled so much every night with shows that my watching overflows into the next morning with a good bowl of cereal with my hair still up in curlers.  It feels like I'm home when I'm watching my progrums, checking in with my family and friends.  Often times I feel much better about my life when there's so much drama going on in my TV family's lives but, as a child with a huge imagination and longing to travel and see the world, it lets me live a little, if only for 42 minutes or so... and at least now I am much more aware of what you can make out of a paper clip and some baking soda to save the world... the importance of a good shoulder pad in a dress... and to watch out for the maid... because it's always the maid that's the killer every time... anyone who's seen Jessica Fletcher in action knows that.

Rainy Days and Mondays

While I realize it was a complete drag for Karen Carpenter, dealing with rainy days and Mondays has always been the complete opposite for me, if not respite.  In the eyes of my friends and family, they think I spend my days lying about in a sunny field, shoes kicked off, perhaps sipping a cool refreshment while perusing a romantic paperback book and occasionally picking a dandelion or two, ruminating about my days as a small boy in the suburbs. On the contrary, in my business as a landscaper, the seasons all provide different challenges and it's a lot of work.  In the spring, my schedule is heavy on the front end and laborious, dealing with cleaning up after winter, spreading 100+ yards of mulch and planting 700 flowers, all while working around the rain and while maintaining the cutting of grass, especially if it's an early growth season like the one we just had.  The summer is hard dealing with weeds, which seems to be the only things that grow, and enduring the humidity and sun beating down on you all day long, burning you to a crisp isn't fun, despite my Mediterranical olive skin-tone, luscious as it is.  Fall, of course, is all about keeping up with the leaves, relentlessly falling and blowing around, making progress a fool's errand.  No sooner do I get them all to one side of the parking lot when a gust comes and blows them right back.  Winter is the only season when I get a break from labor, but it's also the hardest because I'm usually not working and being alone in my head for long periods of time without a focus isn't good.  Besides that, there are the holidays to get through and everything is dead and it's cold outside.  I try to take a trip in winter, but I usually go by myself, since everyone else is working.

Monday's the day that I have to be at the hotel since it's the day that the platinum members check in for the week and, heaven forbid, if the place doesn't look like Utopia, the world will end and they'll bitch about it until they get a free drink in the lounge.  I like Mondays though because it starts my week off and gives me a purpose.  While one may think owning your own business is pure pleasure, it can be difficult, especially staying motivated and on-track.  It may seem like I have complete control over my schedule, but that's not entirely so.  There are so many things that pull me in different directions... I may plan to work on a certain area of the hotel and it turns out that there's another contractor doing something there and I have to regroup... or the weather may not cooperate... or something can't be delivered or I can't get the help to show up... or, and this is the biggie... my family requires something (see previous paragraph where I obviously must be just laying about in a field and, therefore, have all the time in the world) and I don't get to work at all.

If it's a sunny day and I don't end up doing work, I wind up feeling so guilty that whatever I'm doing is ruined and I can't enjoy myself, not that I feel like being out in the heat after working in it all the time anyway.  As a result, I have a new bike and new kayak that never get used, and summer is just a waste of a season for me, recreationally.  Rainy days... now that's what it's all about.  Waking up and seeing the rain is the best kind of day for me because it's a total free-pass.  No getting up early... no rushing around...no working... no one wondering where I am... and, best of all, no guilt.  I love to hear the rain hitting the window and the fresh smell in the air... all the dirt being washed away and nature getting a drink.

Landscaping is physically strenuous, mentally tormenting and, with everyone wanting everything for free these days, it can be not very lucrative as well.  It's for these reasons that I am looking to sell my equipment and get back into business management.  At times, I feel like I've been hiding out from my previous 20+ years of success in accounting and management.  As a Controller/Operations Manager, I was under constant stress as well, but you felt like you were getting things accomplished and making progress and contributing.  I suppose I contribute to nature, I just need more at this point in my life.  I need a purpose and a challenge. So, instead of me pulling roots as a business, I'm pulling myself back to my roots... in business.

Two Sides of Being Lonely

I've always been a loner.  I, most times, prefer it.  I think this comes from doing so much for others that I long for a time where I can get a break from the constant tugging of my time and attention.  As a little kid, I would spend a lot of time in my room with the door shut and, to this day, I do the same thing.  Even with my Dad living with me and not really seeing much of him (me in my room and him utilizing the rest of the house), I absolutely love when I get home and he's out.  There's nothing more that I do when he isn't home, it's just knowing that no one is going to bother me.  As I become older, I seek out activities of solitude... kayaking in the middle of a lake... vacations in the middle of the desert... car rides in the middle of nowhere... all things that I like to do that removes me from others, if not isolates me.  With a natural instinct to run away, it's become my chosen way of coping.  I suppose, to a degree, I don't know how to say 'no', so removing myself from those situations proves to be a good way to protect myself from, well... me.

Perhaps a fate worse than being alone (by yourself), though, is being with someone that you're not meant to be with and feeling lonelier still.  Having stuff in common with someone isn't the same as having a connection, and you can't force it, it has to happen naturally, and staying in a situation like this is a disservice to them, as well as yourself.  That loneliness and emptiness that you're going it alone while someone is sitting right beside you... when you reach out for them and they are right there, but you are paralyzed and you can't open up.  I have become this person;  one who can't allow someone to be there for me, afraid that they won't be there when I need them or that they'll disappoint me, which seems to happen every time.  As a result, no bond is made and I close myself off in every way.  The relationship feels like I'm just going through the motions... as if we're cut-outs of a couple... and it all looks great on paper but at the end of the day, they are folded up and put back in the drawer... one dimensional and flat.  I push the person away and lock myself back in my room and withdraw, protecting myself, when the person I need to be protecting myself from is, perhaps, myself.  Being aware of patterns are a starting point, I suppose.

My plight, possibly too late to change, is both comforting and disturbing, realizing that this may be my future.  As I get older, this becomes more and more normal to me, which is even more disturbing that I'm ok with it, especially always having been a relationship person.  I am ok being with myself and by myself... and, for now, I choose to be alone.

What's My Line?

Everybody knows what a line is... a mark or stroke long in proportion to its breadth, made with a pen, pencil, tool, etc... but other definitions include a continuous extent of length or a number of persons standing one behind the other and waiting their turns at or for something or to take a position in a line, i.e. line up.  Other meanings refer to your bloodline or lineage (where you came from) and possibly the 'line' of work that you are in.  In the 60's, there was a TV show called "What's My Line?" where guest stars would ask questions of a guest as to what it was that they did for a living.  It was funny to see the people and figure out what they chose to do with their lives, career-wise, sometimes being way out of character of what you'd expect at first glance.

There's little room on your tombstone to etch everything you were about as a person... what your likes and dislikes were... what you've accomplished in life... who you've left behind... what your trade was... or what you believed in, to name a few.  You may get a fancy quote or a funny quip, but your whole life is represented by one character in between the date that you were born and the day you passed... a line.  Everything from your first breath to your last is signified in that tiny mark... unlike the giant mark that you, hopefully, made on the world while you were alive.   If you go back to the actual definitions, they coincide with that of a life;  a mark (you making your mark on the world) long in proportion/a continuous extent of length (your life span) waiting their turns at or for something (your life process or, if religious, your afterlife).  The question becomes... what will you do with your line?

We'd all like to think that we did some good with our time on earth and made some contribution to our fellow man.  I think mine would be the things that I've built and those that I've loved.  It brings me great pleasure to plant a tree knowing that it will be there for many years to come, providing shelter or shade and beauty... and it's roots securing and protecting the earth from being eroded away.  I've had the opportunity to see some of those trees bloom into strong, towering structures some 40 years later and the decks that I've built still providing a center for the families that enjoy them.  And I'd like to think that I've touched the lives of those near and dear to me.  The help to my family... the comfort to my massage clients... the direction to my employees in my management roles... the protection and guidance to my friends... and the love shown in my relationships.  And although it may be a source of frustration and, sometimes, angst... giving to those in my life has been what I feel my purpose has been.  I define myself not by what I have, but what I have accomplished by helping others.  That's what makes a man.

I may not have gotten done all the things that I set out to do in my life, and there may or may not be time to do those things... but I feel that my 'line' is pretty full of things that make me proud of who I am.  I hope that my life never flat-lines... and that I constantly challenge myself and strive for more.  Life is a gift...and there's no time like the present.

(Inspiration for this post was from the recent Glee tribute episode for Cory Montieth)

Good Will Hunting

“Every man must decide whether he will walk in the light of creative altruism or in the darkness of destructive selfishness.”   Martin Luther King Jr.

Ring-ring, clang-clang... it's that time of year again when everyone's looking for a donation or a handout.  There are so many charities out there, how do you begin to pick and choose who gets your hard-earned money?  I guess most people pick something that's near-and-dear to them... maybe you choose the American Cancer Society because you had a relative die of cancer... or maybe the ASPCA if you have a dog or cat.  Whatever the cause, nowadays you have to take it a step further and examine the organization for wrong-doing or for a litany of beliefs or ideals in their mission statement that don't align with yours or of humanity in general.  Charity is supposed to help the needy, but often times it goes to help the greedy.  You may donate $50.00... but what's the true cost?

Recently, information has surfaced alleging that televangelist Pat Robertson of the 700 Club funneled charitable funds from his Operation Blessing Outreach (a charitable foundation in Zaire, Africa) into his private holdings in African Development Co which, for the most part, mines diamonds and is chartered in Bermuda.  His ties with the Zaire dictator (Mobutu Sese Seko, who is linked to bankrupting the country by draining $6 billion in assets) are under question, including receiving vast forestry and mining concessions for his diamond business.  The purchase of several planes that were outfitted with Operation Blessing Outreach signage, but only a handful of flights were ever used for humanitarian efforts, with the rest on missions for his mines.  After a thorough investigation of the matters, the findings were sealed by Virginia State Attorney General Mark Earley and Virginia Governor Jim Gilmore, who, coincidentally, received large campaign contributions from Robertson and his associates.  Tax breaks for religious affiliations, tax evasion, use of the dictators planes, boats and vacation homes, bribing and embezzlement are only some of the accusations he is facing.

Other more recognizable organizations like Goodwill and the Salvation Army have been embroiled in controversy as well.  Goodwill is under scrutiny for what it pays it's disabled workers (some reportedly as low as 22 cents an hour), which is much less than the minimum wage, obviously.  The Special Wage Certificate Program, designed to promote businesses to hire the disabled, allows for separate pay scales based on abilities with no minimum.  One CEO makes about $430k, with total CEO compensation across the country at $30 million.  In one of it's mission statements, it boasts “to eliminate barriers to opportunity and help people in need reach their full potential through learning and the power of work".  Making 22 cents an hour isn't a barrier to opportunity?

The Salvation Army has never hid it's Christian beliefs and have been quite open about their stance on homosexuality and gay marriage.  Everything from not hiring or firing gays... to refusing services to known homosexuals have emerged throughout the years.  Most recently, Salvation Army went on record, stating that LGBTQ parents should be put to death as the bible instructs.  Several chapters of their handbook cites Romans 1:18-32, which includes an admonition that homosexuals “deserved to die".  Their public relations representative released a statement saying that they are working towards a relationship with the LGBTQ community and they will offer help to anyone, but actions speak louder than words.

Actions speak louder than words.

“I care not for a man's religion whose dog and cat are not the better for it.” Abraham Lincoln

A True Patriot

Patriotism is defined as 'love or devotion to one's country'.  Nowhere in that definition is the word 'superiority', so why is it then that most people's actions are more towards rising to the top... or getting all they can... or beating someone else down to get what they want?  Having an arsenal of guns to overthrow the government makes you a patriot?  Flying a confederate flag makes you American?  Um, no...it makes you treasonous and hypocritical.  The very notion of a paranoid disillusion of getting to a point of having to overthrow our government suggests that you'd have no belief in the Constitution, Bill of Rights, principles and laws this country is built upon to begin with.  Perhaps it is that person who is the true enemy.  The acts on humanity in the fight for power or in the name of one religion over another is disgusting, and though, it happened and it's still happening every day... it's all part of our history.  It's nothing to be proud of.

Working together for a common goal... taking care of each and every one of us... helping each other out... pulling resources... standing up for equality for all... and standing strong on the principles that this country was built upon... that's what being a patriot is all about.  Being a working, law-abiding, voting citizen... that's an American patriot.  "All men are created equal" and "Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses" are a few of the examples of how we should be living as Americans... every day.  It shouldn't take a tragedy to bring us together.

Putting a ribbon on the antenna or a magnet on the back end of the car or a picture of 9/11 as your Facebook profile picture doesn't make you a patriot.  If you want to be a patriot, I suggest you start with the verbs in the definition... Love and Devotion.

Walked Upon: An Original Poem

What's this poem all about? Hint: it's not about flooring...

All The Better To See You With, My Dear

If the definition of progressive is 'moving forward towards progress', then why do I feel I just took a huge step backwards by picking up my new 'progressive' bifocals?  Seriously, at 46... I'm reduced to these?  I ate my carrots, I didn't sit too close to the TV and my Mom always said you'd go blind if you masturbate too much so.... ohhhhh, ok... um, that explains it then.  True story.  Anyway, I guess it beats holding things about a foot from my face to see it.  It gives me a better perspective, and it's always good to see things more clearly and not have to try to figure out what you're really looking at.

It seems that as you get older and you lose your physical eyesight, you actually see with more clarity.  What was important to you when you were younger is put into perspective with some experience and time, and you start to have a different opinion of your priorities.  You see the world in a different way and perhaps have less tolerance for things that you may not have noticed in the past.  As your vision blurs, you are able to see solutions to your problems that you might not have before... and you get x-ray vision... you can now see right through people... no one can pull the wool over your eyes... and the wolf in sheep's clothing isn't an effective disguise any more.  Although your eyes are closer to being closed than opened when you squint, you can finally see things in focus.  And while your eyeglass prescription gets thicker, your patience wears thinner.  And when your sense of sight goes, you rely on your other senses to guide you, and you trust your gut and use your intuition.  You are nobody's fool, even though your coke-bottle glasses appear to make you look like one.

This past year has been a real eye-opener for me.  I've had several long-term (30 + year) friendships end as well as some not-so-long and some relationships because I finally stopped looking through rose-colored glasses and walked away from people and situations that were either too much drama, were people I couldn't trust any more or I finally saw people for what they were when I took a good look and stopped making excuses for them.  Like prior to getting my bifocals, when I held these friendships back and looked at a distance, I was able to see these relationships in full view... with a new clarity to see that most of them just took from me and didn't give anything.  They were disrespectful, but not as much as how I disrespected myself for putting up with it for so long, thinking that I didn't deserve better.  And while I am no easy person to deal with, I put the effort into my friendships, but seldom do I get the same in return.  I am thankful for those that I am close with that give as much as they take, who accept me exactly for who I am and don't try to change me in the least and that value our connection and don't take it for granted.  Those are the most enjoyable and mean the most.  I would rather be alone than be surrounded by selfish people who only care about themselves... because there is nothing more lonely than that... not even total blindness.

Angel's Landing, Zion National Park

I came across this video today of the place I hiked up to in Zion last year....  Doesn't even scratch the surface of how amazing this place is... and how incredible the hike is.

Being Put Through The Meat GRINDr

Picture it... It's 1994 at 5:10 p.m. on a Friday night and you suddenly realize that you have nothing to wear to go out tonight... at least something that someone hadn't seen you in already.  A trip to the mall is in order because, lets face it, when you are out to see and be seen, what you are wearing is pivotal, since it defines, at first glance, what you are about and who you are.  You could be shot down instantly for not having the right name brand designer on your back or using the wrong opening line, and within a few minutes of walking through the front door of the bar (which might as well be a fashion show runway), your fate would be set for the evening... or at least until about quarter 'til two when the pickin's get slim and standards are dropped ever so slightly (with a loud thud) right before the lights go up and stark reality shines down like a spotlight.  If you have no confidence, quarter til two wasn't anywhere you should be.  It was brutal and there was no hiding.  A black, blousy shirt became your best friend if you did have anything to hide.  My friends and I would joke... 'what do you think of that guy?', one would ask... 'he's an 11:45', denoting that he'd be someone that you'd want to meet earlier than before the night was over.  Harsh.  We're so hard on each other.

Nowadays, with dating and the phone apps, you can literally make everything up, including your stats, your profile, your age, your occupation and your pictures and sit at home in your pajamas and let the magic unfold from your couch while watching a Meredith Baxter Birney drama (one of the 13 where she portrays a jilted, scorned wife and shoots them or cuts their balls off).  And because very few people ever plan to actually meet up, you can be whomever you want to be since no one is really going to see you... and you don't need a fresh outfit... no need to brush your teeth or run a comb through your hair... yes, you are settled in to a night of Lifetime and a low battery, and the only real action your lap is going to see tonight is from your dog/cat who can't keep still, searching for that comfortable spot.  Mr. Mittens is the only pussy you're going to see tonight.

With the gay apps, you create your profile and just sit back and wait for the shit-storm of judgment and criticism to come down on you like a jungle rain shower.  The nice thing is that it all happens behind the scenes... you don't actually know why someone hasn't responded since you don't actually get to or have to interact with them.  You don't know what part of your profile they didn't like which only adds to insecurity.  And you get no opportunity to find out either.  I'm not sure which is worse... getting instant feedback/rejection face-to-face or that wondering that you have to do when someone doesn't even have the courtesy to respond, at all.  Imagine walking up to someone and saying "Hi, you're handsome... nice meeting you" and having the other person stand there and not respond or acknowledge you in the least bit.  This is what happens all the time on the apps.  Not only has the birth of this form of media bred the worst social interacting malfunction in history, but it also breeds rudeness beyond belief.  I've never read the statement that you agree to when you install the app, but it must say something about setting yourself up for anguish, ridicule and general ignorance.

I find that the majority of people on the apps are of the 18-27 or 46-? range.  I think it's because kids are out of high school/college and have nothing better to do and need constant attention and interaction.  They never want to meet because they always are looking for the next 'best' thing, which comes by every 19 seconds.  They will never be happy or satisfied because they are incapable of getting below the superficial.  And the older ones are on there because they are set in their jobs and their life has become routine and they have more time.  They are also fighting the effects of gravity and getting older, so they are more likely to hide behind an app and probably not meet because they are afraid to be rejected and found out.  Very rarely do you see a thirty-something on the apps... maybe they are busy with their careers in full-swing or they are in a relationship already, I don't know.  If they are, it's usually because they are in an open relationship and they are looking for sex. 

At some point, with all the ways to connect nowadays, we have lost the ability to really connect with each other on any level other than sexual... and the meaningless kind at that.  No emotional exchange... no sympathy, empathy or compassion.  No touch... nothing beyond the surface.  All of it is vapid and shallow.  People talk about wanting a relationship but have no idea what that means or what it entails.  With their parent's broken marriage as the blueprint, they have no idea what love looks like and giving up and walking away seems to be what you are supposed to do.  And fending for themselves because both parents are at work makes them completely void of caring about anyone else's needs but their own.  All take and no give.  This is the norm.

In the sea of love, if you wade in the shallow, all you'll see are tadpoles and bottom-feeders... everything beautiful is below the surface.  You have to dive in and get wet to get to where the magic happens. 

Full of Shinola

My Mom was good for her odd sayings... for someone whose outfit didn't match, she'd say they looked like a 'Russian Christmas on a Wednesday night'... To differentiate time, if something was fast it was 'quicker than shit through a sick goose'.  And if someone didn't know what they were talking about, she'd say they 'didn't know shit from Shinola'.  Shinola, apparently, was a brand of wax shoe polish available in the early to mid-20th century.  It was a dark, sticky, semisolid substance with a faint resemblance to human feces.  Implied, is that shit and Shinola, while superficially similar, are quite different in value when applied to shoes or carelessly stepped in. 

At the risk of sounding like some moral-high-road Conservative, it still shocks me when I see people's behavior these days.  I've written about it over and over again because I just can't wrap my head around how people's moral fabric has deteriorated.  I'm no angel, I'll give you that, but we were always taught to respect each other, but respect yourself as well, if not more.  It's disturbing to see how people act, especially regarding sexual encounters and their bodies.  I'm not sure when things changed, or maybe they never did, but it seems like no one has any respect or dignity or self-worth these days.  The infidelity and lying comes so naturally that it's just accepted as commonplace.  There's no respect, remorse, regret, responsibility or apology and certainly no self-control.  For guys, especially gay, the idea of monogamy has long-since been debunked with the explanation being simply that "it's not natural... we are guys... it's what guys do".  And while I am constantly debating monogamy in my own head as to which way works (because I really haven't seen too many examples of it working in a relationship with or without), I'm not ready to give up, and surely not in the beginning of a relationship 10 minutes into it because someone else whips their wiener out.  And when you throw in diseases brought back to the other or collateral damage, like innocent kids that may be affected, the respect, remorse, regret and responsibility are completely gone from the equation.

I am proud to say that I have never cheated on anyone.  I'm not judging anyone... it's just not for me.  I know that it has been going on forever in time but I, personally, feel that the internet had a great deal to do with the demise of the 'relationship'.  24/7 access to a hook up through the apps makes it impossible to find anyone that is serious about a relationship and even if they say they are, usually they are full of shit regardless.  It's hard not to become jaded... you can see them a mile away... and no matter how much Shinola you apply... 'you can't polish a turd'... yet another one of my Mom's sayings.

My Life As a Dog

Not having roots in religion, I've written in the past about my beliefs, which are fairly insubstantial.  I believe there probably was a pretty cool dude named Jesus that would have been someone I would have liked to have hung out with and had some hummus and chatted with about shit, but of all the things though to have really strong feelings about, I have always believed in reincarnation.  We are all dealt different hands in life... some very lucky and some not so much.  I could never understand why life was so unfair for some, and always felt that the life that we are cognitively living currently is one of many that we have to live (or have already lived) before we can get to where we are supposed to end up.  So maybe one life you are very wealthy and one poor... one maybe good looking and one not... one you are riddled with health problems...  one as a minority... and so on.  To me, it made sense that to be a better well-rounded person and someone who was truly worthy, you would need to understand other people's plights and walk in their shoes.  When I was little, I wanted to come back as a dog, because it seems like almost everyone loves dogs and you get to lay about the house doing nothing... maybe the occasional ball lick and an ass sniff... it's all good.  All I know is my current reincarnation must be getting me ready to be a Saint, because the shit I'm dealing with in this go-round from my family better earn me some friggin' wings and a set of mugs.

A friend of mine recently turned me on to an 'unauthorized parody' called Dog Sees God:  Confessions of a Teenage Blockhead.  The play imagines characters from the popular comic strip The Peanuts as teenagers. Drug use, suicide, eating disorders, teen violence and bullying, rebellion, sexual relations and identity are among the issues covered in this drama.  When CB's (based loosely on Charlie Brown (names have been changed)) dog dies from rabies after biting a yellow bird, CB goes to his friend Van (Linus) and asks him where we go when we die.  A self-professed Buddhist, Van tells him that either your spirit dissolves or you become reincarnated.  Another friend tells him that we return to the womb, although it may not be that of your mothers.  And while the story unfolds and CB tries to make sense of it, as well as other things that are happening (like his gay love for his friend, Beethoven), the message in the end is comforting to CB in that some of his friends may be looking after each other in the afterlife.

If it sounds intriguing, you're in luck... The Martinsburg High School is performing it... Here's the production info:

When: September 6 and 7 at 7:30 pm     September 8 at 2 pm

Where: Martinsburg High School   701 S. Queen Street Martinsburg, WV 25401

Cost: Adults $9    Students $7     Festival seating with tickets sold at the door

They will be hosting speakers from the following organizations with a percentage of the profits going to that organization:

Fri--Fairness WV
Sat--National Office of the HRC
Sun-- New Light Metropolitan Church