Cold Bones

Bones get Cold

Yes my friend, bones can get cold. And when they do -- when the wind and the dampness and the cold seeps into the bones, you feel it!

Over 15 years ago on an early morning, I slipped on the cold wet pavement and fell down. I got up and I had fractured my humerus bone. That's the bone that connects the shoulder to the elbow, for those not familiar. For weeks after that, I could not sleep in a bed, but had to sleep in a recliner. And all I could do to heal the bone was to wear a sling for probably a month or more.

Well thankfully 15 years later the bone has healed. But the damage lingers. When it gets cold outside, or damp, I feel a pain -- sometimes a stabbing pain -- in my arm. And when I sleep at night, if I sleep on that shoulder I feel it.

It's just a reminder, and a painful one that some things never go away.

Yes, I'm trying to think of words to dictate to continue to train my dictation software, "Dragon, Naturally Speaking." But my ideas are running dry this morning. Nothing seems to come to mind. Writers block? Probably. Not exactly a sin or crime -- but frustrating nonetheless.

So I have to do rapid dictation. Rapid dictation as you must know from our previous posts, is where I just let the words pour out. It's as if you pinch yourself and you say get them out, get them out, get them out. But say what, or is it best to say nothing at all?

The truth is I am torn inside me at this moment. I have other obligations and I must tend to and I'm dodging them. Primarily, I have to call someone and try to negotiate a contribution from them to a good cause. And I'm not very comfortable doing so. So I struggle -- and procrastinate.

Okay, enough for now.

All Tied Up with Pins and Needles

"I'll Try."

What do those two words mean? When you ask someone to do a task, either as a favor or an obligation -- what is the meaning of the response "I'll try?" Will you do it, or won’t you do it? You’ll ‘try’ to see if you can close the door? Meet the family at 7 p.m. in Sacramento? Actually take out the trash?

We have allowed clichés to seep into our culture and consciousness and we tolerate them, despite the fact that they mean different things to different people. Consequently, our communication is stifled, confused, and often misunderstood.

A case in point: "I'll see you later." You will? How? You’re taking a plane to Kalamazoo, and I'm going back to Baltimore. Where will you see me??

Another example: "let's have lunch sometime." Oh? Actually, I expect to have lunch every-time; today, tomorrow, and probably the next day too. Did you mean that we ought to have lunch together? But you're flying to Kalamazoo -- and your plane is leaving in an hour. Gosh, that's why I drove you to the airport! And now you think of lunch?!

And what about: "I'm sitting on pins and needles." Well for heavens sake, get up! That's got to be mighty painful, all those pins and needles. And there you are, sitting on them?!

And finally, for now: "I'm all tied up." As in, "I'd love to go to lunch with you but I'm all tied up." You are? Would you like me to call the police? Are you tied up of your own free will? Or has someone done this to you? Is this a daily occurrence?

These expressions and clichés are not really bothersome for us locals, because we've learned to read between the lines. But we need to realize that our language, English, has become a global form of communication -- especially with the Internet. Using clichés in an international arena can cause much confusion. The gentleman from Bolivia, or the woman from Indonesia, who have struggled to master the English-language, just get more confused when they have to decide about taking lunch sometime with someone who is sitting on pins and needles and all tied up.

On Crossing the Threshold to a New Year

On Crossing the Threshold to a New Year

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening

by Robert Frost.

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village, though;

He will not see me stopping here

To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it's queer

To stop without a farmhouse near

Between the woods and frozen lake

The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake

To ask if there's some mistake.

The only other sound's the sweep

Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

Every year at the stroke of midnight, the night between December 31 and January 1, we usher in a "New Year."

A quick thought for all of us. The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep.

As each year fades and each new one arrives, we become more aware of the ticking clock. The journey remains long, but we dare not slacken.

Because in truth, we all have -- promises to keep.

And we've got a lot more to go, to reach our destination. And miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep.

A very happy and thoughtful New Year's to you all!

Puff the Magic Dragon

Dictation Central.

There are days that you just have to really just to dictate, if you want Dragon NaturallySpeaking to be working properly.

This is what happened to me. I had a username with Dragon, and some file obviously got corrupted. I don’t know how, but I think it happened when I was doing a restoration of a previous savings of windows XP. In the process, something that all messed up with Dragon, and when I try to open my username it told me that its files were too large to be opened or something along those lines.

So I had two choices. One choice was to somehow or other tried to find the error and corrected, and I had no luck doing so. The other choice was just a start in the username.

The dilemma with starting a new username is that all of my saved files were lost. Which means all the words that it saved from me in terms of new vocabulary and pronunciation etc. was deleted.

So I started a brand-new username and I’m now saving more words. I don’t know completely the secret of dragons speak freely software. But what I do know is that it is extremely useful and it helps me immensely. He does insert incorrect words here and there, and I can live with that. When I am doing important typing I watch it like a hawk, and if I catch a mistake I usually corrected then. I don’t wait until I finish a paragraph because if I do, I don’t really recall what I said in a previous place and I am not sure how or what word to insert.

But right now, I don’t really care if it records a few errors. I’m just interested in getting as much dictation as possible. This morning I wrote a very important article and I could not have done it without Dragon. I am still not a proficient typist, and I really need to correct errors as I read them. But I’m not doing so today, because I just want to post this text on this web site.

So now I need to find a title for this text. Just call it: Puff the Magic Dragon! I got it!

Holidays & Apathy

The danger of the holiday season

Chestnuts might not be roasting, but the authenticity of the holiday season is upon us more than ever. This is going to be a quick dictation blog. I'm going to rapidfire here.

The holidays really make people nicer? There are some people who feel that the purpose of the holidays is simply goodwill to all men. That is such a wonderful idea. It's a wonderful idea because most people have no idea how to begin practicing such an idea. I just use the word idea maybe six or seven times. I have no idea why.

Are there really people who have an attitude that could only be turned on once a year? After all what is the opposite of nice -- not nice? What is the opposite of love, hate? No. The opposite of love is apathy. The opposite of loving someone is not hating them -- but ignoring them. Being apathetic to them. You don't have to hate someone to the damaging them. Cold apathy is sufficient

We are apathetic to so many people and somebody closes all through the year. Read about tsunamis, hurricanes, and other forms of human tragedy. We don't hate those people, we have nothing "against them." But we don't do anything for them either. And that's because of apathy.

We must find a way to blot out rampant apathy. We must shake people to the core and let them know that simply being apathetic as criminal. Very few of us hate goodness. Most of us are so involved in our own selfish pursuits, that we are naturally apathetic -- even to our closest relatives.

It isn't enough to feed yourself. It isn't enough to feed your own. Charity might begin at home -- but it ain't over till it's over. And it ain't over until you feed the hungry out there in the street.

Charity begins at home but ends in your neighbor's home. No, not the neighbor next door. The neighbor at the other side of the globe.

Charity and apathy. Mortal enemies. Who live side by side.

Don't be apathetic. It's a killer. Feed the hungry. Happy holidays!

The Jerky Tooth Guy

The Jerky Tooth Guy

The seemingly never-ending misadventures of a lousy root canal job, will continue to be told here.

I'm almost ready to name names. I am going to tell you a story. I walk back to this doctor to finish the job. This dumb secretary at the front desk asks me, what insurance do you have? I give her my insurance card which obviously is not one of their favorites. So she tells me you are going to have to wait. And the "wait" had a very distinct ring to it. I am convinced that the order in which patients see the doctor is dependent upon the insurance that they have. I was made to wait THREE hours! And the ironic thing is, this was for the completion of a root canal job, for which I am paying CASH!

I asked several times at the front desk, what the delay is. The answer was, "the doctor is running late."

Anyway, I was finally admitted to an office to wait for him. He flips from office to office, working on what seems to be several patients at a time. At the same time, he is conferring with one of his colleagues regarding construction work in the office. Working on me makes me feel like it is almost an afterthought.

This time, while taking out a temporary filling and looking into my tooth, he decides that part of the area is infected and now I need an antibiotic. In truth I am happy that he caught it -- if he is telling the truth. But my question really was why did you not prescribe an antibiotic the first time? Now he wants me to come back a THIRD time to finish the job should have been completed the first time.

On the way out, the secretary insisted that I pay the entire bill of over $650. I told her I already gave $100 down payment last time and will pay in installments. She said that we need all the money now. I said everybody needs all the money now. But I don't have it to give to her and they will have to wait. She asked for a credit card or head checks. I told her I have a bus to catch which is the last bus out of this neighborhood, you've kept me here for 3 1/2 hours and I'm leaving now. And that's just what I did.

The doctor tells me there will be another hundred dollar charged for a "post." And then perhaps we will put on a crown, and God knows how much more money that will cost. Meanwhile he is talking to a colleague about redecorating various offices for approximately $10,000 each.

I walked away feeling that I do not trust him. Or his establishment. And consequently, I do not feel confident in the dental treatment I am receiving. Although he is a soft-spoken individual, and I would like to believe that he is proficient in his trade, I've lost my confidence in their operation. They were constantly mixing up my charts and records with my son's, because our first names are similar. The mismanagement, ineptitude, and downright neglect and negligence, makes me feel very leery of these people.

So my question is: now I have a second temporary filling in this tooth and have been assigned antibiotics. Can I go to a different dentist to complete the job? Or do I need to go back to the same individual. Will another dentist charge me massive fees for completing someone else's root canal work?

So what's the philosophical question here? The sad quality of medical care in our society today? The scandal of HMOs and insurance carriers?

No. For me the question yesterday was one thing. Will I keep my cool. I said to myself constantly over and over: God is good. God is good. Stay calm. Stay serene. Stay cool and tranquil. It's nothing personal. Don't add stress, angst, and esasperazione to an already uncomfortable situation.

And I believe I was successful. Last time, I left the doctor's office with all kinds of mixed and frustrating feelings. This time, I left there serene and calm. Oh yes, my mind was still churning with some of my disappointment. But within me there was a serenity.

And that was good. A little serenity goes a long way.

Have a very happy holiday season. Because if you won't, no one will have it for you.

Awaiting Deliverance

There are moments in life that present us with a challenge. There are other moments that present us with the response. And then, there is the gap -- often a huge gap -- in between.

We are challenged with dilemmas, tests, frustrations, and sometimes, huge mountains that just seems impossible to climb. And then! Then there is the moment of deliverance. There's a moment when the One on high opens the heavens and the light that shines is so overwhelming, as if there never were a problem to begin with.

But there is the waiting period in between. I have a situation that is going to cost me many thousands of dollars. It is perhaps a happy situation. But you have to be able to pay for it. And right now the challenge is here, but the response -- the deliverance --*sigh,* is not yet on the horizon. More specifically, the deliverance is nowhere to be seen.

It's at moments like this that I find myself standing on the mountaintop, looking across the horizon for that small cloud the size of the fist of a man. The cloud that will irrigate and rain upon the dry arid land. Elijah stands there and says: go forth, and look ye into the sky, for the rain clouds to come. And I look, and look -- but no rain clouds are to be found. The sun burns down in all of its torturous heat, but deliverance is nowhere in sight.

This deliverance is beyond my own doing. If it is to be a gift from above, I have no merit for which to deserve that gift. All I can hope for, is a compassionate miracle. And my life is not one that is used to receiving miracles -- compassionate or otherwise. But I have no choice but to gaze on high, and to beseech the One above for an undeserved deliverance.

How? I know I must make a vessel. I know I must create some involvement on my part, so that He may "partner" with me. This is a big struggle for me. My credit in His eyes is very low -- at least from my perspective. I have done very little worthy of His deliverance. But I have no choice. I have no other avenue but Him. And time is running out.

So I turn to You, Master of Deliverance, and I beseech You: please find a little ray of light. A little bit of light that You can shine upon my small corner. For I have no one else to turn to, but You.

Our Father our King, we have no other King but You.

Necessity

I had the flu this week or what seems like the flu. But more than anything else, I had an epiphany experience this week. I realized that everything is nothing and nothing is everything. It's all just a matter of "necessity." When you have the flu, it is a necessity to rest.

I know, it didn't make any sense what I just said. But I'm not really looking to make sense. Today, I am doing rapidfire dictation. Again. And the reason for that is as follows -- new hard drive, new installation of program, new necessity to see that everything is functioning the way it is supposed to be. You see, it's a necessity.

For those who do not use Dragon speak freely, perhaps you do not know that it needs to be "trained." What I found in the past, is that a multitude of training does not necessarily increase considerably the accuracy of the program. The program by itself, is astonishingly accurate. And that's all that counts to me.

So it is a Friday afternoon. The buses and trains, sometimes they run. It's a cloudy, gloomy day. And a weekend that is coming that doesn't look any brighter. But as Bob Marley said, "everything will be all right." So I guess the gloom is not a necessity.

The flu can be debilitating. Specifically, the respiratory tightness and dry hacking cough that accompanies it. The general prescription is rest, lots of fluid -- to decrease the possibility of dehydration, and perhaps a pain killer here and there, to ease the tightness of muscular pain. But there really is no antibiotic or medication for the flu itself. It is viral, and does not respond to antibiotics. But drinking plenty of fluid is a necessity.

The week went by very quickly. I don't know where it went. Not much was accomplished. Actually, very little if anything. There are two engagement parties to go to Saturday night. One, 50 miles away. My own choice would be -- to go to neither. I will probably go to one. Necessity, is like an older brother coercing you to do your homework. And some things you just do, because of necessity.

But just because something is a necessity, does that really mean it is necessary?

Hard Drive Blues

Well it finally happened. In the process of attempting to set up a new hard drive, my old and main hard drive crashed. My primary account, and all my settings -- and virtually all the programs, passwords, and files that I had created and accumulated over a period of time, have all been been eradicated.

Meanwhile, I'm in the process of setting up a new hard drive. When I spoke to my IT professional, and mentioned that I lost hard drive that had tons of programs on it -- his comment was: that's probably your problem, having "tons" of programs on your hard drive. Best to keep your hard drive as lean, mean and to the point as you can.

The bottom line is -- I'll be out of commission a few days while I do all the setups. So I suggest everyone find an alternative form of amusement until we meet again.

Firewalls and other Roadblocks

It’s 6 p.m., do you know where your programs are?

In the never-ending search for the ideal and most spiffy program, I have changed from one virus control program to another. Specifically, I've installed the ZoneAlarm total suite, that controls firewall, virus, anti-spy ware, cookie and pop up blocker and every other Internet confusion possible.

Suddenly, I'm no longer in control of my programs. I try to load them but I'm given a message that you have no permission to touch that. My classic web sites do not load, as ZoneAlarm attacks them for numerous infractions and sins, too many to mention. Some pages do not load, some programs do not start, and by and large I am being admonished with messages telling me to beware! And super caution! And plain old keep your hands off.

Wait a second, what's going on here? I bought a computer to be able to use programs as I wish. It turns out that most of my efforts, time, and programs these days are simply protecting me from the serious dangers lurking out there, and not even letting me get to my primary programs, for which I've purchased a computer to begin with!

Enough of these antivirus, firewall, anti-spy ware, cookie popper programs! I'm just going to pull the plug on the whole darn Internet. I want to load a document into Word for Windows, a document that I have typed, and not be told that I cannot load it until it is checked for viruses, and other unspecified diseases! And then I wonder why my computer has dragged to a crawl! There are 50 other trucks on the highway before I can ever cross the street!

There has to be an easier way! Isn't that what I purchased a computer for in the first place?

Ouch! Dignity

But really all this raises a much bigger question in my mind. Sitting in the doctor's office I felt so helpless. I felt so much that my fate was not in my hands. I had to wait my turn no matter how much it hurt. They put me in a small room. My ache was getting worse and worse. My entire face was hurting. No one came to give me the attention or to attend to my pain. I mentioned it to one of the dental assistants several times that I'm in excruciating pain, can she please call the doctor and have them expedite my service. But to no avail.

Then I fell on a plan. Maybe I should yell. Yes, good old-fashioned yell. Maybe I should come across as some cantankerous, insane old man. After living more than a half-century on this planet, I felt I was entitled. And I also felt that if I make a scene, an annoying and noisy one, I would get the proper attention that I needed -- quickly!

But my "rational" self piped in saying that it was undignified to do so. And that I would look weird. So I had to choose between looking weird or suffering in excruciating silence. And I chose the silence. What a coward.

But I realized more than ever how helpless I was in that room. How powerless and how weak I was and I could not determine my own fate. And I wondered if this was in store for me as I continue to age? Is aging -- growing old -- a "graceful process," or is it simply a time when we start feeling weaker, and more pain, and the breakdown of that once invulnerable body.

I was diminished. And I struggled to find my dignity that had somehow managed to elude me during my days of tooth torture. The entire event raises some very deep philosophical questions within me. I do not have the answers, nor have I completely formulated the questions. But when I do, I'll let you know.

Root Canal

The root canal

Just when you least expect it. Two days of rather uncomfortable to excruciating pain. I don't usually get toothaches. Actually, I never get tooth ache. But this weekend, the unheard of happened.

After sitting in the doctor's office for two hours writhing in pain, you could've sold me the Brooklyn Bridge. I would have done anything to alleviate the pain. And indeed, I did.

The doctor walked in, examined me, and said you gonna need root canal for that tooth. And your insurance will not cover it, so it's $650. Ready to proceed? Whoa! What alternatives are there? None. I could pull the tooth but that's not a good idea.

I felt like a car stranded on the open highway driving between Montana and New Hampshire. The mechanic looks at it and says, you're going to need new transmission and that'll cost you $700. What choice do I have? Just abandon the car? And believe me, the pain of a toothache is even worse.

So I just looked at the doctor, whom I had never met before and whose qualifications I did not and do not know, and simply said -- do it.

Well, today is day one. We'll see if he was successful. Meanwhile, it’s still hurting. But much much less than before.

I should write more -- but hey, I just had root canal.

The Toothache

Is there a way to really prove the evidence of a painful moment?

Go tell somebody you have a toothache. What impression would that make upon them? If, heaven forfend, you were crushed underneath a vehicle, you're pain, broken bones, blood splattered, would leave undeniable evidence that you are hurting. But tell them that you have a toothache, and they shrug their shoulders. In their eyes, maybe you do, maybe you don't.

Well, my tooth hurts. My tooth has been hurting me, and my gums, since yesterday. But because it is the weekend, there's no dentist around. On the dentist's answering machine there's a message that if you are in a definite urgent emergency, go to the emergency room of your local hospital. Goodness! I would much rather go to a gypsy fortune teller, then to my hospital’s emergency room. I'd have faster service, better luck, and probably similar outcome.

So how to deal with pain. I mean pure, physical pain. An ache that reminds you not just that your mortal -- that's easy. An ache that reminds you that you can hurt at any time, and that in some ways you are very very small.

So Mrs. goes away for the weekend -- actually a week. And suddenly you're all alone. Oh, yes some of the children are around, but it is as if you are alone. They are in their own world, thinking and taking care of themselves. And if you dare to intrude, you will know fast enough where the border lies.

Nurse a pain all by yourself. Feel immersed in your own pain, and your own helplessness. Know, that no one feels your pain but yourself. And the momentary lip service comes and goes.

Enter on the scene, Oragel! A little tube of medication that numbs the teeth and the gums. A remarkable antidote, for just a few dollars. Why didn't I think of this before?! I buy it, I try it, and it works! Incredible! Suddenly the pain has diminished considerably. That huge mountain of a toothache shrinks into a truly tiny molehill. All with one little application.

So maybe that's what they were thinking after all. Hey man, why are you making a mountain out of a mole hill? It hurts? They are easy solutions. We have all been there, done that. Maybe you haven't, so you're panicking. But it's only because you're backward, ignorant, and uninformed. One little visit to the pharmacy and you can set the world right again.

And the whole time I was complaining about my toothache. Maybe that's why I was passed over gently, politely or basically ignored. The catastrophe existed only in my mind. Others did not feel my pain, nor did they feel my concern and worry.

Sometimes, it is so hard to live with myself. What a struggle. Toothaches.

UPS, where are you?

Okay, it's time to knock off another message. And this will be another rapidfire message. What a wonderful day. So what happened today? Here's what's going on.

Pause. I'm actually upset, because the UPS guy who is supposed to deliver a package has not yet arrived. It's almost 5 p.m., and because I need this package for an electronic connection my day has been underutilized. Why these guys can’t get here a little earlier is beyond me. Yeah I know, I'm sure he's been very busy. It is after Thanksgiving after all and a lot of people probably made orders. But I want mine and I want mine yesterday.

Is that not the way of the world? But I can't handle the problems of the entire world I can only deal with mine right now and not too well either. I wanted this guy to deliver this hard drive, sooner than later. When you order a new hard drive, there is so much work that goes into it. I have to format it, partition it, and then decide what will be loaded upon it.

I'm considering loading several different operating systems on the hard drive. I want to load Windows XP obviously, but also Linux. Then, in another partition I want to put the new Windows Vista operating system. What for you ask? Like any of these operating systems would be better than the other. Well, the old days of constant blue screens which I experienced with Windows 95, even through Windows 2000 -- are thankfully more or less over. But even with service pack two and Windows XP, there is still in programs that freeze, and crash here and there.

Well okay, we will see. So far we haven't seen the UPS man. One day I will really tell you the scoop on the UPS service. They are probably the most important and critical link in the entire dot.com revolution. All online purchases in the world will have little value if there are no trucks to deliver the merchandise. And that's where UPS comes in.

You'd be surprised to know that when you send a computer back to many different companies for customer service, they actually end up in a hangar in an airport where UPS does the repairs for many companies.

But that's another story. I'm just looking for the truck. UPS where are you?

The Convention

The convention was in town. The annual convention when more than 3000 representatives from across the world gather together to exchange stories, hear information , and get inspiration. Everybody likes it -- but me.

You see, I was in the same system, or worked in the same "corporation." But I dropped out over 20 years ago. Since then, it has grown by leaps and bounds. And I have diminished. I have traveled here and there horizontally, but I have not grown vertically. And when I see my old friends returning from the field, each one with decades of good history within them, I'm jealous, I feel bereft, and I mourn for the part of me that could have been and did not.

It's hard to explain this -- or perhaps it's really not necessary. But try as I might, I have never really made peace and come to terms with the way my life turned out. I live under a gloomy gray cloud of "what could have been." I think of all the things I could have accomplished, or should have accomplished, and didn't. And the time that has slipped through my fingers will never return.

So when the convention comes to town, there is a part of me deep inside that cringes. I keep away, make sure not to see the guys, I wait for the storm to pass -- the weekend to end. But deep down I am living with the convention every minute that it is here. And suffering inside.

This is not good. I cannot spend the remaining time of my life ruminating over what could have been. I'm doing myself no justice, nor am I helping anyone with those feelings.

Life is a book which each one of us writes. Sometimes, some of the middle chapters don't work out the way we want them to. Sometimes the story runs awry, and the book weighs heavy and gloomy in the middle. But like it or not, we remain the author. Our children will read our book, and they do every day, for insights as to what lies ahead in their own life. I owe it to them to not let the ending be gloomy, too.

I have to reinterpret the story so that I can live with myself. Because sometimes the story is not as bad as the way I read it. And I urgently need this story to be a success, and to be meaningful. Very meaningful. It's up to me to write, and edit, and interpret, and rewrite where necessary. I cannot let this fail. After all, it is my life that I am writing about.

Old Shoes

They are gone!

It's very beautiful to have them over as our guests. They and their four gorgeous little children. Oh, and did I mention the noise?

I can't say I was much different when I was younger, but I'm surely this way at my age. There's just a certain amount of volume that I can take. These children are actually quieter than others. But they have their moments. And they have a way of littering the floors with toys, pillows, pretzels, papers, and sundry other things.

And I accept all of that. No complaints. Well, except the early morning one this morning, when the bedroom door was left wide open, and one of the children decided to scream on top of his lungs until he got the attention he wanted. And all I said was, would you please get the kid quiet and close the door. But they made sure to repeat it back to me later. I guess they're a bit sensitive, and so am I.

But more importantly, all good things come to an end -- thank goodness! And this afternoon they departed. What a wonderful visit it was! How nice, how sweet, how much fun.

But I give glory to the One on high, for the serenity, and peacefulness that has returned to this abode. Hey, it's finally quiet around here! And that is a blessed relief. Suddenly I can hear myself think again. And I am not bombarded with the piter-pater of small and large feet crisscrossing the rooms above, stereos playing music with the volume on max, and the numerous people using the best bathroom.

I've come to realize, that we hold on to our old habits like close friends. Friends that mellow with us as we get older and more entrenched in our ways. Frankly, I like my quiet. I like the serenity. And as much as I love welcoming these dear little children into my home, so too, do I enjoy bidding them farewell.

Perhaps our habits do not let us be the best of people. Perhaps our habits conflict with some noble desire to be some idyllic magnanimous creature. But habits are like old shoes. They aren't always so polished, and sometimes they are scruffy and don't look nice. But they always seem to fit, and are rather comfortable to the wearer.

So I am not going to apologize about my habits. I'm not going to apologize for my existence or for the way my life has become. Those habits are also relatives, in this family. And when the kids leave, I extend the welcome mat for the comfortable old shoes.

p.s. The other one just came to tell me they are leaving, too. Now I am getting lonely, Suddenly, it is so quiet and desolate around here. Oh my goodness, how quickly we change, how fickle we are....

Wednesday's Child

It’s Wednesday morning, and it is time to knock off a really quick message over here. I'd like to say that speed is of the essence, but I do find that some of these messages take a bit more thoughtfulness and that precludes the possibility of me simply just a rattling off a quickie.

So it is Wednesday. The following poem is perhaps the source of the Wednesday's Child:

Mondays child is fair of face,
Tuesdays child is full of grace,
Wednesdays child is full of woe,
Thursdays child has far to go,
Fridays child is loving and giving,
Saturdays child works hard for his living,
And the child that is born on the Sabbath day
Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.

Wednesday's child is full of woe. This was used to indicate that the child that was slightly "different." Perhaps a child with a disability, or an orphaned child who needed a home. But maybe its main message, is that there are some of us who do not seem to fit in. They're not your average child, and not your average adult. They are different, unique, struggling, suffering. And they need extra tender loving care to be able to function in this rather difficult and competitive world.

So it got me thinking; which Wednesday's Child do I know. And what can be done to alleviate the angst that must be experienced by Wednesday's Child.

When we see people who are Wednesday's Child, the tendency is to shun them, to move around them -- rather than face the disability head on. But what the person needs more than ever, is acknowledgment, not escape.

So we all ought to be a bit more sensitive with Wednesday's Child. We all ought to find a way of reaching out to someone who is "challenged," and embracing their difficulty rather than sidestepping it as if it does not exist.

In each of us there's a little bit of a Wednesday's Child. And we will come to terms and make peace with our own, when we embrace someone else's.

Scattered Thoughts

Heck, I'm going to shoot out another one.

Who should read this stuff? Really, the only one that should read it or at least the first one to read it -- should be my sister.

My sister must be 10 years older than me, but we are made of the same genetic coding. Somehow we share the same frustrations to some extent, and we operate on a similar wavelength.

I walked past the old family house a week ago, and I commented about it here. But who would understand those feelings, if not her? Oh sure, we can all relate to certain common themes in the human experience. But who could relate to My experience?? She can.

And that's why sharing this with others is neither here nor there, but sharing this with her would be insightful and a shared experience. The kind where you nod at each other knowingly, demonstrating you both "understand."

But my thoughts here are still so scattered and unclear. I haven't focused to write my words in a very distinct and precise manner.

So I cannot yet invite anyone to "read" this. It's still just a mess.

Fight Back, ay?

Fight back

Inertia can be a killer. There's a tendency to just stay stuck in habits, good and bad. Sitting by a desk all day is not healthy. There's a need to get up and exercise, to get the endorphins flowing in one's brain. Is it starts getting cloudy and gloomy outside, and the weather gets colder, it's easy to fall into a lull of melancholy. But it is not good.

I need to fight back. I need to find a project that I can undertake, that will be beneficial and can be completed. I've got to find some new vigor or vim to add emphasis to my actions and make something happen. I am stuck, I am stuck behind too much inertia.

I so need to fight this terrible inertia. I need to fight it because I cannot succumb at this stage in life to just a vegetative state of inertia. Okay, I'm supposed to rattle out words very quickly to make the ability of this program testable.

It's irrelevant. The bottom line, in the real point is that there's a certain frustration that has set in my life at this juncture. And the frustration is about inactivity. It's no secret, I'm not achieving or accomplishing as I wish to. I have to create an artificial mechanism that will keep me motivated. I need a project that needs my input and I have to take it from the beginning to the end.

And to do that, I have to be ready to fight back. I don't have much energy. It's too bad, I don't know why it's that way but it is. I need to fight back.

So how? Let's say I were going to really blasted out in a blog, no not this one which is only for testing purposes, but one in which I would really stayed up my own views clearly.

So what would it be? And how much work will it take from me to make it happen? After all, I'm not a paid writer and I am not desiring to become subservient to the need of producing a written text for some other reader every day.

I don't want to write about politics. And an autobiographical report about my daily frustrations is really no one's business. My views on various philosophies or ethnicities, would leave me frustrated -- and I will to you why. By nature before I let something out, I'm a bit of a perfectionist. No not perfectionist because I'm so perfect, but rather because I am less secure in producing objects that can be judged by others later. So I need to be careful with my words. To quote the great wise sages of yore, "Wise ones, be careful with your words!"

Which leads me to think that perhaps this is enough words for this article. So, I will leave you with two words: "Fight Back!”

The Childhood House

Years Ago When the Earth Was Flat, I lived in an Old House, my childhood home.

This is one more case of quick messaging. My purpose here is to try to knock off as many words as possible and to put them on the screen. We are discussing rapidfire dictation here. That is this reason and purpose of the following text. I like the accuracy that actually occurs when you talk rather fast. It seems as if the program is able to gauge your words more, probably within the context of the other words -- and nevertheless come up with sentence structure that is actually quite accurate and correct.

We had an occasion to visit a professional that lives in my old childhood neighborhood. Actually, as street away from where my childhood home was. So I walked around the block. I looked at the old house. And I was tempted. I was tempted to knock on the door and say hi! I used to live here, can I go and see my old room? I actually stood in front of the house walked up the stairs to the porch door, but then I stepped back and went back down. I don't think tenants in a house that I lived in 35 years ago have to be punished by having the trek through their house just because I once dwelled in those same walls.

But there is something nostalgic about a building that once held your childhood. There's something unique about a residence, in which you played, jumped, laughed, slept, cried, and probably made a few holes in the wall. How many families have taken this house since we left here? Who else moved into this residence, who slept in my room? Who looked out my front porch window on a cold wintry day, with snowflakes twirling and gyrating, creating magical patterns of serendipity before my very eyes.

I cannot account for all those days that have passed, since those magical days of childhood. I do not recall, at this very moment, where I have been as the months, years, and decades flew by. I write my life not in days anymore but in decades. I know the guy he must transcribe the book onto paper. Because each life is a book with many chapters. They have already been written whether I like it or not -- they're just waiting to be transcribed onto paper, or computer file.

I cannot undo the difficult years, just as I could not have enough of the wonderful years. But one thing I do know. The childhood years, fresh with innocence, wonder, and a sense of amazement of the world that passed me by as I sat on the steps of that beautiful brick house, those wonderful childhood years -- some of that spirit and magic is locked up in that house.

And one day, I will go there, and reclaim it.