Life at 3 miles an Hour

I just opened my blog this morning and learned that I have made 32 other posts to my page. That would make this 33. I'm amazed that I've had 32 other things worth saying. maybe they weren't really worth saying for that matter. At least I'm surprised that I thought 32 other things were worth saying. I'm not sure that I have another. I have looked back over them and found more randomness than cohesion throughout the things that I write. I'd probably have a hard time writing a book. I can't stay on one string long enough. This morning I'm thinking about 33. Jesus died when he was 33. I was 33 in 1996. I just found a CD the other day called WOW 1996. See what I mean? My thoughts travel in probably 33 different directions. Write now as I write here for the 33rd time I'm noticing that the blog site has changed. The resolution on the whole site has changed. Everything is larger, almost magnified. What does that have to do with anything? ...

I'm a very scheduled person. Even my writing is becoming more and more scheduled. In fact I'm only writing this at the moment because, when I checked the date of my last post, I realized that "it was really time for another". One a week? I call that scheduled. I'm interested to see how this turns out at the end. Writing, like anything else creative, should never, in my opinion, be scheduled. It ought to be inspired. That's why I don't pursue my artistic tendencies. I was a photographer once, but lighting and backgrounds and such don't lend themselves all that well to schedule. I was a painter once. Same thing, schedule and inspiration don't mix. Neither do inspiration and a self critical spirit, but that's for another counseling session. So I have many "works" tucked away where only I can still see. Bringing them out in public only encourages people to try to get me back into inspirational mode, which again conflicts wit...

I went to "The Fair" yesterday. It's one of the great American insitutions that that I really love. I mention that because there are many that I don't for a million different, mostly selfish, reasons. I love the fair though. I have an even greater appreciation now that I'm a city dweller. In my last phase of life it wasn't as big a draw because I lived the fair nearly every day. Everywhere I looked there were cows, goats, ducks, sheep, straw hats, tractors and PU trucks. That's P.U. trucks. You can figure it out. Anyway, the fair is about everything that makes America great. Everywhere you look you can find innocent children, women in long skirts with sneakers, flannel, plaid, braids, bare navels, nearly bare butts, shady salesmen hawking the answer to every problem that you never knew you had. There's PU trucks, cows, sheep, goats, pigs, country music, old heavy metal, old carnies and elephant ears. There's an abundance of culinary cre...

Growing up around the Adirondack mountains in the east and now living in the shadow of the Cascades in the west, I'm very accustomed to seeing the "Falling Rock" sign. Passing them as a child frequently caused me to glance up expectantly in the chance that I might see the tell tale signs of an actual falling rock. I think that the closest that I ever came was a brief slide of pebbles down the dusty embankment of an interstate that we had travelled often. Now as I have grown older, I never look up. I never expect that which is on the sign to truly happen. I've come to believe that, in fact, thses signs may only be put up through a long forgotten tradition. We've always done it that way. A few days ago, three women were tragically killed east of here by, of all things, a rock slide. I wonder if they saw the signs. I doubt that, as they left an energizing evening of music and laughter to head back home, it even crossed their minds that they wouldn't make...

So I'm 42 tomorrow. What is it about birthdays that cause you to be all reflective of the life you've lived and the life you want to live? My first "adult" birthday that I was excited about was my 40th. I know that it's usually one of the dreaded occasions for most people, but I actually looked forward to it. I was convinced that it was a new beginning for me. My 40's were going to be so much better than my 30's and light years ahead of my 20's. But one fifth of the way into them, I now pause and wonder if I'm headed where I imagined just two years ago. I wonder if instead I've wasted the opportunity for a strong start. Do I now need to rely on a strong finish to make up for it? I'm not sure. I am sure that many people in my life would be complimentary. They'd say I'm doing well. That's easy when they don't hold my measuring stick. How does one get so far from the goal set before us? I'll tell you what I...

Watching this past week, as many of us are, the events surrounding the devestation of the Gulf coast has come with many mixed emotions. I'll admit to some of them here, some I will probably never publicly admit to. I've been frustrated by the obvious human arrogance that contributed to this disaster. This has been a disaster a long time in the making. I've been sickened by the political labeling of our national shortcomings for relief. Again I'll repeat this has been a disaster a long time in the making. I've been horrified by the near cannibalism exhibited by a number of the citizens and dismayed by the media focus on the ugliness. I've been encouraged by the attitudes of a number of survivors. I'll admit to a bit of ambivalence toward those who chose to stay behind (not those who had no choice) and then demand an immediate rescue and providing for their "needs" as if they were taken completely by surprise. The slowness of the government ...