12/16/2009

It’s still head-light time at 5:00 p.m.. It’s been a tough and long winter. If you follow this blog and hardly anyone does, you can see that the entries from the “mac” aren’t always posted at the time or day they are written. I keep a log with me all the time for notes and thoughts. I’ve had this terrible habit for a several years. The date today is the 15th of January and I am just getting around to entering the atthemac material a full month later. It’s kind of cool to be spread like that as I am obliged to remember how the past unfolded into today. Not much changes for me from day-to-day, even month to month depending on the season. Things change quickly in the warm months because of my work but in the cold months, as you can see, time stops, it’s all about endurance. It’s like running a marathon and then standing still for a terrible amount of time. I try to use the time wisely by writing, reading, drawing up new gardens, and walking. So it goes. It’s a nice evening, warm, wet from the melting snow and I’m tucked in here, in my apartment, for the duration. So, back to the past, last year.

I’m atthemac for coffee and apple pies as usual. Only five more days to bear up before the winter solstice. The days will begin to stay lighter longer. I do suffer from sunshine deficit in the dark months of the year. I grew up back east in the fifties and sixties, back when things were hopping; GM was giant there as well as International Harvester, Chrysler, Fridgidaire, and all the little ”feeder” companies. Dayton was hopping as well as all the little old farm towns around there. Nothing is happening now except rust and ruin. Many of the small communities that I knew that were so nice, safe, and clean are now in a state of deterioration; no curbs, few working street-lights, very little activity except for an old McDonald’s or Kroger store. People spend more there on Lottery tickets than they do on their lawns or cars. It’s depressing. I try to visit there often to see family and always come away depressed. All they have is TV, beer, lottery, and a few good memories. strangely, they don’t seem to notice how run-down and dilapidated it has become. I guess that is a good thing huh, otherwise they would all be out here where the sun shines most of the time. Sad.

I’m getting “antsy” to go back to work. It’s lunchtime here and the kids from the high School are flocking in for something to eat. They all seem to have credit cards for this. interesting. This community is basically up-scale not a good example of the average American town. Rich, white, and out of touch. Hey, suits me. Much better than the mid-western towns I was describing earlier. These are kids O.K., as we were O.K.. Things have changed but most of them here if you get close, have manners, are no messier than we were and probably are much wiser than we were. They have the Internet. All we had was baseball, Jackie Gleason, Ed Sullivan, and Ozzie and Harriet. I’m not saying those were not “good” things to influence us but, they were, at the most, just Polly Anna entertainment. Hey, maybe not Jackie Gleason. The kids are all red-faced and pimply like we were, shy with the girls, the girls not as shy. Most of them have cars. All of them have phones which they are constantly doing something with, drives me nuts to watch them. What a life. I hope somehow they are enjoying themselves now because the way things are un-folding in our world today it don’t look promising for them. So, I wish some joy for them.

We, my family, were so poor that we used to get free lunches at school. I don’t remember if this embarrassed me, probably did, other-wise I would remember huh? We would always get those baskets full of food at Christmas and Thanksgiving not even knowing how in the hell everybody knew that we needed the help. Hey, word gets out I guess. Back then it was unusual to be in a single-parent family as we were and so we attracted un-wanted sympathy I’m sure. I don’t know how my Mother felt about it she never talked about it. Things have changed, now most kids are from single-parent families or, at least, they are not living with both of their parents. I’m sure it’s confusing for them. I know some kids that are brothers from different Fathers whom they’ve never met. Their Mother has had many live-in boy-friends. Gosh, I don’t know about these things. I kind of feel bad for them even though they are just like all the other kids. They may not be as sensitive to it as I am, I don’t know, they don’t want to talk about it, guess it’s not important any-more. Not a kind world any-more, at least, not as kind as mine was when I was a kid.

My Step-Father died when I was eleven, life got worse after that. It wasn’t that great before he died but you never know how good some things were until they ain’t there anymore. He was an O.K. guy. I really believed him when he told me that it (the whippings) hurt him worse than it hurt me. Mom never re-married, she spent the rest of her sexually active life dating married men for some strange reason. She worked the bars after G. died and I guess there were no single men she was attracted too, it certainly created a few problems with us kids. The biggest problem was that we were friends sometimes with the kids of the married men she was bringing home with her. It didn’t go on too long because she developed a bad case of rheumatoid arthritis which pretty much ended her dating. She became relatively disabled by the time she was in her mid-forties. Sad story huh. Hey, after that though she really mellowed out and became a close friend to us, her kids.

Life is un-predictable huh? Not always pleasant, not always painful. I’ve had my share of both, no regrets. I’ve forgiven and have been forgiven, now, I’m just waiting, trying to grow old gracefully, counting my blessings not yours. I’m thankful for my Creators care these dangerous years. I see now why some things had to be the way they were and am grateful to have been able to run this race.

Make it a Double…12/15/2009

King David said, “all men are liars.” Actually he said, “In my haste I said, ‘all men are liars.’” King David certainly wouldn’t be very popular today. Nor would his son Solomon. Solomon was born of Bathsheba and King David. Of course their first-born died within a few days of his birth. That son was conceived in a hot flash of passion. I understand “hot flashes of passion”. David should have turned away or, maybe he should have left to join Joab and the Armies of Israel on the battlefield. Bathsheba was beautiful beyond description. Would you have left that wonderful sight?, would you have turned away from that beautiful creäture bathing in the twilight, in that sultry air? Why was she bathing on her roof, Uriah’s roof? Uriah was where King David should have been. Needless to say, King David was where Uriah should have been. Uriah is truly one of the only admirable men in the bible. So, King David and his cousin Joab arranged for him to die. Simple as that. Uriah co-operated. Bathsheba co-operated, King David operated, Joab was complicit.

King Solomon said, “For in much wisdom is much grief: and he that increaseth knowledge, increaseth sorrow”. I’m sorrowful, more knowledge, much knowledge, maybe. I don’t want to go there even though surviving to this age has required some “good”, even “wise” choices. Decisions based on knowledge might be attributed to wisdom. Always play dumb to avoid criticism, never let your wisdom be a cause of conversation. Hardly anything is worse than being accused of intellectual pride so, keep your mouth shut unless of course you are a “King”. I don’t believe in “wiser”. I can’t avoid grief. Do I grieve? Yes, over the simplest of things like : my car won’t start, this table is dirty, or, “why are you late again?’ Funny huh? I’ve reached a plateau, a safe area, were only small things annoy me.

I refuse to get upset about anything that doesn’t need my immediate attention. Apathetic?, pathetic?, no, just mature, reasonable evaluation, no big deals. Nothing to fear…inevitability, where’s my faith? How will this grand, last act play itself out? “The Terror of the Situation?” Peaceful , confident, or , surley and pitiful? Maybe I’ll take a walk into the desert, watch the flowers after a spring rain while the waters recede. Spring is near, the winter solstice has come and the orbs are moving slowly but surely toward me, all is in my favor. Don’t fret, get another burger, grab a beer, watch another foot-ball game on the wide-screen, daydream about your neighbor’s wife. Think about how it could have been if only this, and only that; but, if it could have been, it would have been, but it couldn’t so, it wasn’t. So it goes.

I saw a man this morning in a restaurant. He looked like he had spent the night (a cold night) curled up in some shrubbery somewhere near. He walked in speaking to himself, ordered food, and sat down near me. He began to sing along with the music coming from the speakers in the ceiling. I thought when he passed me on his way to the counter that he looks a little rough but not “out-of-it.” What does it hurt to sing along as you eat your sausage biscuit? Actually, it seemed like a form of Thanksgiving, happy, content. I said, “hello.” He said, “hello.” Wonderful. His eyes were clear, his coveralls clean. He could have used a shave but no more than I. So, he ate his biscuit and drank his water from the paper cup. He sang, he chewed, he sang some more, chewed, drank his water, became quiet, finished, cleaned the table, glanced my way and walked out the door humming.

So, them prairie dogs are screaming out there in the cold and dark night. The sky is dreadfully clear, no moon, millions of visible stars. You know if we could see well enough the sky would always be bright. When they focus their telescopes there is always something in the way, nearer or farther. So, those dogs out there have been underground for six weeks now. I hear them in the night, I think they send scouts out to forage, some get caught by the foxes, some probably make it home. I hear them signaling each other as though they sometimes get lost out there foraging. They have to go further away from home in this snow-covered, icy landscape. I’ll hear one barking on my right, then, a bark farther away in another direction. I always, at first, think that it must be one dog complaining but then I sense the calling and responding like, over here, over hear. And the foxes listen and watch. I hope some of them dogs make it home. They probably vomit what they have consumed on their journey and feed their friends and family.

I saw some men this morning in a restaurant. It looked like they had come in for an early lunch from one of the office buildings near here. They walked in, ordered food and sat down near me. They began talking about what they had seen on Television. I thought to myself as they passed that they were tired, stressed out. Red eyes, puffy red skin, 3 of the  4 overweight. I didn’t say hello as they all avoided eye contact, pre-occupied maybe, or pretending. So, big guys: two tall, one medium, one short. The short guy had the biggest hat. They had super-sized meals along with very large drinks. They chatted, chewed, chatted, wiped, chewed, chatted some more. They drank, chewed, wiped, chewed, drank, chatted some more. They became noticeably louder as the pounds of meat, fries and soda settled in their stomachs. They finished, left the mess on the table, glanced my way and lumbered out the door burping and coughing. So it goes.

So, wisdom? Don’t get near old women on parapet walls throwing stones.

12/15/2009

So, the golden arches. Golden yes, for someone. Disaster for others. But, I’m thankful there is a place to go where I don’t have to pay $4 for a cup of coffee and they let me “hang-out”. It gets me out of the apartment in the winter-time, supplies a human need that I’m told is “good” for me, i.e., association, and is generally safe. Generally I say, we’ll wait and see.

I read an article yesterday about a woman in a ‘mac’ that did not like her burger. She went back to the counter and asked for her money back. The article did not say how much of the burger the woman offered to “trade-in” for the refund but, sounds like most of it was there. Anyway, they offered her another burger and politely denied her request for a refund. After a few minutes of verbal “tit-4-tat” and a definite refusal to refund her money the woman ran amok, knocked over the familiar display case–you know the one thats always there with yesterday’s “fresh” salads, the funny clear plastic cups with brown and white stuff in them, the “fresh” salad dressings of course and other refrigerated items. Then she proceeded to push all the cash registers off the counter, threw a few more of Ronald’s precious items around the store and dis-appeared. As far as I know, as of today, they have yet to find her, she, is still at large.

If my Memory serves me well this happened in Kansas City. Hey, sounds kind of radical on both sides of the counter. The extraordinary refusal to return what?–$1–to the woman, is obscene and at least, bad business. The woman’s response, even though a lot more fun, is harder to support but, nevertheless, is much more acceptable than what occurred the next morning  just a few miles east in my home town of St. Louis.

There another “fed-up” human being decided to take matters into his own hands on the first shift. Apparently he felt that the system–as he interpreted it–was no longer protecting his interests. The story leads us to believe that somehow he felt that his investments, and the profits from them–which were somehow related to the company he had worked for more than 2 decades–had been illegally kept from him and other employees through the negligence of the company and some of its other employees. (need an editor huh?) Unfortunately 4 people died there today including the really “fed-up” employee.

These two “tidbits” are examples of what can and does occur when human-beings sincerely (regardless of truth) feel that they have been “screwed-just-one-too-many-times”. Pretty scary stuff huh? Hey, you think this is scary just look at any news from Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Mexico, Somalia, The Sudan,  Palestine. Hey, I could name at least twenty more. We americans don’t even get to see most of the real news. They–MSN, CNBC, CNN, CSM, etc.–don’t think we can handle it. I agree, most americans can’t handle it. It’s like Jack Nicolson’s character in “A Few Good Men”–I think that’s the film, let me know if not. Anyway he said, with great disgust for his audience, “you can’t handle the truth”.  All humans who sincerely (regardless of truth) believe they have been handed the proverbial “short-end-of-the-stick” will, doubtless, let us know about it sooner or later. Referring to “truth” I don’t mean to imply that these humans are wrong in their judgements about the situations themselves, in fact, truth may live on their side-of-the-fence. I don’t know. Now, back to my apple pie and coffee.

Regardless, it is a beautiful morning, about 37 degrees–balmy–blue skies smiling at me. The snows are melting very slowly, the nights continue to be very cold. Seven days to go for the Winter Solstice, ten until Christmas. All is well, I am in God’s hands.  I love you Father God and thank you for your love and care. Please be near, now, and forever.

The car started this morning after replacing the battery yesterday. I’ve considered selling this car but haven’t gone beyond considering. It keeps costing me money. I keep spending on it thinking that, O.K., now maybe nothing else will go wrong. I like to drive it instead of the truck cause its cool, and its cheap. I always seem to have the trailer hooked up to the truck when I need to go somewhere and so, just hop in the old Chevy.

I joined another dating service, free of course, for 10 days. Hey, maybe I’ll find (or she’ll find me) the female of perfection in less than 10 days. Yep, same old stuff: fat girls, ugly girls, broke girls, dumb girls, girls with a lot of damage. No thanks. The ten days will be over soon. I’m always dis-appointed in myself when I’m broken down and made weak and lonely enough to respond to these stupid dating services. Oh well, the first couple of days are exciting. New hope, just maybe, no go! So it goes.

Life is hard on the body. I see pictures of women that are my age and I think, my gosh, I must look that old too. When they see my pictures they must be thinking something similar; my gosh, he’s wrinkly, but, hey, he’s not fat. Looks like he’s got some money. From what I see here he’s probably pretty smart, yeah, I’ll mail em, see what happens. So, many views, few e-mails. Hey, I’m trying to be nice and kind, as I know some of them are. I know they would prefer a thirty-year-old with a full head of hair, big, bright smile, an MBA or inherited wealth; I want the same type of girl. Sorry, it’s over Casanover. Some of those people will spend the rest of their lives hoping to stumble upon Ponce De Leon’s “fountain of youth”. Hey, who knows. great fun anyway for a day or two, a diversion, a fantasy.

I wish that my Creator would just remove this loneliness I experience often for a beautiful lover. I’d be content to spend the rest of my life in study and contemplation. Often it creeps up and overwhelms a well-intentioned soul like a hot summer thunderstorm, then it’s gone leaving only apparent undignified lust for just another creature. Father, spare me this.

12/7/2009

   http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Attack_on_Pearl_Harbor

Strange, all day I didn’t hear a thing about “The Day of Infamy”. Boy, those guys sure are dying off huh? Otherwise that’s all we would have heard about: Brokaw’s “Greatest Generation”. Well, I don’t know if I agree with Brokaw’s assessment but maybe it’s because I was not included as a participant. I don’t know. I take that back: I do know. I knew many people in that generation, my parents were in that generation, my in-laws (2 sets) were in that generation, so yes, I know, but now is not a “good” time to go there, so, I won’t. Maybe later. One thing I do know is that many of us “baby-boomers” are sick and tired of our governments getting us into wars. So it goes. Recessions, depressions, boom and bust cycles, war, war, war.

Here at the ‘mac’ after removing the snow at a client’s house. The clients are in Texas for something, the Mrs.’ was left at home, she is ill and does not travel well. The care-giver needed to get in and out of the drive so they called me. Hey, that’s great, it gets me out of the house. This is turning into a very long winter for me. It started snowing in late October and snows more when it is just about melted. I keep looking forward to working then it snows again. These clients are wonderful people. He is a “Man’s Man”, she is a typical “Southern Belle”, very much a Lady. They are in their seventies and are surviving on “modern medicine”. I don’t envy their situation even though they have been very successful. Ageing is the great “leveler”. My time is not far off, in fact, I hope I don’t end up like them. They don’t seem to want to go. Oh well, takes all kinds.

I’m here for coffee and apple pies, it is miserable outside but I don’t want to go home just now; hang out, read some more of this G.B. Shaw: the commie, the sceptic, the spoiled brat. Sure is a good writer though. Often, when reading, I want to just put the book down because I dis-agree so much with a lot of the material I read, but if the person is an exceptionally good wordsmith I will endure. Shaw is exceptional as was Faulkner before him. Of course I just finished “Go Down Moses” by Faulkner. Hey, throw some cash in it, send it to my son. I just need to tuck in further, float downstream, the way it looks now I will be shut in until March of 2010. Have Mercy.

The little girl at the next table just threw an embarrassing temper tantrum. As soon as she achieved her goal she turned into a lovely little angel. Marvelous, well-trained. Her Mother is well dressed, overweight, and happy as hell that the bribe worked on the little bitch. I am too. These kids sure got it down, I would have been slapped across the butt, dragged out to the car without food, then, when we got home, I would have been whipped with a belt or a switch. Needless to say, I never acted that way more than once. It’s pretty shocking to see adults manipulated by their children, makes me sick. They rule the parents.

Lots of people getting in out of the cold like me today, eating the fat. Hey, this fat ain’t cheap either. A woman in front of me was charged $7.00 and I really couldn’t see that she got that much. A fish sandwich and fries, big drink. Guess that’s it for seven bucks now huh? Crazy. Hey, it’s a place to hang out, I get “cabin-fever” being in the apartment all day.

Things generally are O.K., I really need to focus now on my spiritual life. The other 3 seasons of the year I don’t have much time, so I need to really take advantage of this down-time instead of complaining about it. I’m not progressing as much as I have in the past. I feel like I’m treading water. I read, listen to good spiritual teaching, pray, confess my sins constantly, ask for forgiveness, and I’m still a pretty screwed up person. Not much better than I was ten years ago. So, what’s wrong, why am I so dis-content? I always thought I would be happy someday but, rarely so, no matter what I do. So, I’ll just wait for the promises to come through. Of course Jesus never said that it would be easy and happy. I must have read that somewhere else, or I just made it up. I am, as the Apostle Paul was; the Christian in Romans chapter seven, what a horrible place to be, I might as well get used to it. I have to remind myself that when I was born-again the old Charlie didn’t die, he just got a new room-mate.

I need to change and grow–not moving forward is falling back. Please help me in this Father God, be near, grab me, shake me up, move me along toward Thee. I love you and thank you for all of your love and care for me, a miserable sinner.

12/1/2009 P.M.

This is the first day of the last month of the year 2009. It has been a horrible year for many people all around the world. Of course what may seem very ‘bad’ to us here in the U.S.A. would be ‘to die for’ in most of the countries around the world. I complain but only because I’ve been taught to expect so much out of this life. Most humans, even those near me have not lived as well as I have. I attribute this fact to supernatural forces operating in my life and take absolutely no credit for this wonder at all. Even today, as I am writing in this journal, I’m depressed, annoyed, and ill-tempered. Why is this? Simply because of what I have written above: I expect and feel, in some strange way, that I should be completely at ease, happy, fulfilled, and content . In this country and in most that we so pridefully refer to as ‘developed’ countries, we have every kind of remedy for this sad state of affairs. We have every kind of diversion an intelligent human could possibly imagine: drugs–legal or illegal–alcohol available 24/7, in home theaters, sporting events, restaurants, where you can find any type of food available on the planet. We have the internet, politics, pornography, gambling and gardening, hey!, you name it, we got it.

 Just a few hundred miles south of here they have failed governments, poison water, pesticide ridden food. Name any ‘third world’ disease: they got it. They have terrible poverty in a country where the second richest man on the planet resides. They have warfare between the drug cartels and the sovereign armies; most of the drugs acquired by these cartels is sold here in The U.S.A., to people like me. They have a patriarchal religious community that keeps the woman bare-foot and pregnant, pollution in cities that is so unhealthy that if you own a car, you are permitted to drive only on specific days of the week.

 http://projects.latimes.com/mexico-drug-war/#/its-a-war

I know, so what am I complaining about?

Yep, here at the ‘mac’. The coffee is cold, the side door was locked, a bad night to come in here. I hate to complain; don’t want any spit in my food. In fact rarely is it a good idea to complain about anything in a restaurant these days, it’s really changed since my Mother was a waitress. She raised–if you could call it that–five kids waiting tables at ‘Big Boy’ and truck stop restaurants. Back then customers were important, anymore it’s like, if you complain, what’s your problem? The ‘servers’–no longer any such thing as a waiter or waitress: that drums up impressions of master/slave scenarios–after delivering very poor service, sloppy food, in a dirty environment still insist that they ‘deserve’ a 15 or 20 % tip. To qualify as a cook or server in this town you need to be covered in tattoos and smoke at least two packs of cigarettes a day, in fact, it’s occurred to me more than a few times that the places I frequent use cooks, servers, and managers that are much more concerned about showing off their tattoos and finding ways to sneak out for a smoke.

http://shine.yahoo.com/channel/food/user-post-13-things-your-waiter-wont-tell-you-479179/

Boy, am I venting tonight or what?, I frighten myself. O.K., thanks for letting me share, I’ll ‘chill-out’ now.

So, I go to the counter, “this coffee is cold” I said to the pimply girl texting a message. “Oh” she said sounding surprised. I could tell she was probably a member of the “thespian” club at school, it was really dramatic. “Yep”, she said, “someone must have left the lid off, I’ll make more.” I’m used to hearing that, even from my own helpers. “Yep”, they say, “someone else…”, always someone else, so it goes. I wonder often if I blame others when I’m responsible, and yes I do, although not in everyday tasks. Often I fail to take responsibility for my part in what I call, “all of this mess.” The  ‘mess’ in our world, the things that we all have some responsibility for like global warming, inept politicians, lack of civility which is overturning (destroying) our culture, etc.. It’s a ‘cop-out’ world and I am as responsible for this as anyone else. Sad, I ask forgiveness for this. It’s not always someone elses fault, it’s mine. I’m sorry Lord for all of my complaining, I just get tired. I wish you would just come and get me out of here…I love you, please be near, prepare me for yourself, help me please to endure until we meet.

Here comes the snow again, another storm moving through. The temperature is moving down fast and could stay down in the teens (highs) for a few days. Oh well, tuck in, float downstream, wait for spring. Funny, a Black Crows song is playing here at the ‘mac’, gosh, I’m out of it. Just one big upheaval could destroy all of this, one great-big earthquake, a comet strike, a virus. We are so fragile but rarely give that fact any consideration at all, we think we’ll go on forever. Sometime in the future all of this will be nothing more than an artifact and probably not that interesting to the person that finds it.

http://www2.jpl.nasa.gov/sl9/back2.html

11/30/2009 P.M.

me too!!!

One more day left in November 2009. May be my last November, who knows, who knows about any of us. We do plan with much assurance, often wrongly. Makes no difference overall as Solomon the Preacher says, “There is no remembrance of former things; neither shall there be any remembrance of things that are to come with those that shall come after.”  And so it goes.

But, anyway check out the link above if you are one of the 17,500 un-employed persons in this wonderful land of ours, the land of Goldman Sachs, BOA, Morgan Stanley etc.. Hey remember, not so very long ago we, generally speaking, were envious of the folks that worked for these wonderful American firms. Capitalism at it’s finest, our collective: finest hour.

I’m a Christian person. I ask God everyday, every night,  and often through-out the day to prepare me for Himself. I ask only because I am a coward by nature and a wimp. I ask Him to go easy on me so I don’t embarrass Him when I leave this place onto that short journey to Him. There are many Christian wimps out there who, like me, hope that what we say here and present to the world is evidenced in the journey home to our Creator. Just a thought between sips of this hot coffee and bites of this ’apple pie’.

So, on Tuesday, the first of December, the rent is due again. I have to constantly worry about this thing being left out in the cold, I have to keep it fed and clothed. It lives well at my expense. I’m thankful that I don’t have any debt, indeed this thing, if it could, would suffer upon me luxuries untold: fine homes, sports cars, expensive prostitutes and the like. Thank you God for sparing me all of this even though there is great rebellion, help me endure.

It’s Sunday night, 8:oo p.m.. No crowds here tonight, probably football games on television. There is an older couple with a younger man;  maybe a son: strange clothes, probably gay, who knows, I nod and they do also. Nice folks. I think some believe we–everyman–are constantly judging and eliminating persons from our lists, we’re not, or at least I can say of myself: I’m not. I want to be friendly, I am friendly. These folks seemed at first embarrassed by the young man in the strange clothes but after my greeting they seemed to relax, sigh. Friendly smiles, even the young man.

Hey, this is cowboy country so to see someone dressed in baggy red pants, red sneakers, and wearing gem-studded shades is unusual, especially at 8:00 p.m.. The parents, maybe grandparents seem like normal, lower middle-class working stiffs. Probably are his grandparents. I’m glad that grandparents are taking care of the kids. Don’t get me wrong, better the parents do it, but, they can’t take care of themselves. So, what a blessing: grandparents.

A pretty little female employee just started her break, cute little thing–can’t live without that phone–feet on the chair waiting for Mama to pick her up. I love you Lord, I’m sorry that I am so cynical and ugly, of course You weren’t always lovey-dovey either when You were here. I know that you understand how inadequate I am for these things.

I’m close to the end of “Go Down Moses”. Boon killed the bear by attacking him with his bare hands and hunting knife. He wouldn’t shoot because ”Lion” his dog was ripping at the bear (BEN) and being ripped up by Ben at the same time. Boon couldn’t shoot anyway. Boon loved the dog. The dog died as did Ben the bear. Ben and Sam Feathers seemed one energy. As the bear was dying Sam was dying vicariously, another: ‘rite of passage’. This book is full of incidents that qualify as ‘rites of passage’. Well, gotta go, it’s cold out there and dark. Hey, let them ‘Golden Arches’ lead me home.  

11/24/2009 P.M.

I said to the girl at the counter after confusing my change (I did that at the bank a few days ago), “one of the ‘nice’ things about getting old is that people forgive you for being stupid”. Of course that’s not always true, some will look at me as though I should dis-appear, they don’t know how many of us would if we could, gracefully of course. Anyway, she grinned and turned away.

I went out to a few of the gardens today, still too much snow to even think about doing any work in them, hey, they miss me. The gardens know when I arrive and when I leave, in fact, they probably get excited when I put them on the schedule every week. This may sound absurd to many of you but, hey, often we don’t know what we don’t know; sounds like Donald Rumsfeld huh?, you can have your opinions. I read a book in my early twenties called, “The Secret Life of Plants”. The Authors are Peter Tompkins and Christopher Bird. Check it out if you enjoy plants and gardening.

So, I’m working on ‘chilling out’. It ain’t easy for me. I’m a typical type ‘A’, yep, in caps.

So, here I am, at the ‘mac’. I met an older man; when I use that expression–older man–I mean a man obviously older than me. Most people on the planet today would refer, appropriately of course, that respectable title to me, yours truly. Anyway, here we are at the urinals: what do you say?, hey! these are very close quarters for doing something intensely personal. It is un-comfortable but I never want to seem rude and pretend that I don’t notice another human being barely a foot from me.  So, I have a line for this situation, just to break the ice. So I said, “sure costs more going in than coming out”, with a smile of course. ”Yeah”, he said, “but there is no other way”. I responded, “well, I’m glad that I don’t have to do this much longer, I mean, feeding this thing, just keeping it alive”. Apparently he didn’t want to go there. That pretty much ended that conversation. It saddens me that humans want to extend their lives–miserable ones at that–regardless of the natural and inevitable outcome.  I suppose most humans believe it’s Hell or nothing, so why not, maybe tomorrow some scientist will discover how to keep us alive for a few more years, months, or days. Whatever, just hang on, no matter what the cost. So it goes.

Please help me Lord to endure until the end of this without embarrassing your wonderful name.

Hey, back to ‘Go Down Moses”. Sometimes I do enjoy this book, mostly not. I would not recommend it to anyone. I felt a need to read some Faulkner and so, I follow through. After I read these books I stuff them with some money and send them to my son. At first he didn’t know that there was money in the books, of course I knew that if he didn’t thank me for the money chances were that he never opened the books. Does he read all the books I send to him?, no, but, hey its worth the effort. In case you weren’t aware of this tidbit heres a ‘hot’ tip. The Post Office has special rates for mailing Literature, so, although it may not be books in that large Christmas package you may want to pretend that there is, not good huh?–unlike who I profess to be–so, why don’t you, before you seal the package, toss in a good book. Hey, just a thought.

11/23/2009 P.M.

Evening at the ‘mac’. They never have apple pies ready this time of day, I wonder why? Actually the workers I see here at this time–evening–don’t seem to really be here, the best of the worst I suppose. Some chubby girl back there calling me ‘honey’, come on, give me a break. I can’t stand for people to call me ‘honey’, or the guys that don’t know your name, they call you ‘bro’ or ‘bud’.  Cut me some slack, please don’t call me, don’t call me anything…. So, I order, get the coffee and tell the ‘honey’ girl that I’ll come back for my pies.

There are a lot of kids in here tonight, not working, just hanging out. The coffee is cold, so I take it back, the pies are ready, great.

There is a mother or grandmother (we all know that the grandmothers are raising the kids these days) helping a teen-aged boy in a reading lesson. It sounds as though he has an extreme speech impediment and that he is a ‘special’ child. We used to call them retarded but that isn’t acceptable now in our society. Of course hungry children are O.K., doesn’t hurt to have a few of them around. Homeless children are pretty much O.K., to a certain degree. I mean the shelters in this great land of ours are packed out this time of year and if they are full, where do the ‘meth-head moms’ take their kids, gosh, I don’t know, but, if the door is closed, it is closed. I believe that if the corporations in this country thought they could get away with it they would re-introduce child labor. Soon, it may be possible for them to do so, couldn’t be a better time for it. Hey, it’s better than joining the army and killing other needy children, right? So, it goes.

I read on MSN this evening about a German mother who allowed her son who had been injured in a car crash 23 years ago to stay on life support all those years, never giving up even though I’m sure she was advised many times over to ‘let him go’, ‘it will be better for him’, ‘its selfish on your part to make him continue on like this’. Am I far off?, probably not, knowing how little time responsible parties leave  so-called ‘loved ones’ on life support these days.

Anyway, a doctor finally realized that his brain was O.K. and didn’t seem to be damaged and was, according to the tests the doctor administered, functioning normally. They continued testing him and began to bring in special devices to help him communicate. Now, after learning to use these devices he has revealed that he could always hear and see what was going on around him and that he made every attempt to communicate but could not. WOW! It reminds me, probably not appropriately, of Steven Hawking and Chris Reeves even though these men suffered in different ways. Sad. The man is now writing a book about those years. About being alive he says, “in there”. Whoa!

I have acquaintances who just let a son–grandson–be taken from life support. He had heart problems all of his life which, in the end, affected the function of many of his organs. He received a kidney from his mother 4 years before this particular incident but still, as was the case his whole life, was never able to take care of himself. He lived most of his life with his mother. He was constantly going in and out of hospitals. He was 41 years old when they ‘let him go’. He survived 6 major heart surgeries, years of dialysis, a kidney transplant, and countless long stays in hospitals. Sad. His name is Don. He is still one of my contacts.

I don’t pretend to know the complete story about Don but it did shock me to go into the hospital on the 4th day of his stay there and find that he had been removed from life support and was ‘no longer with us’. That’s how they say it these days, no one wants to say “he’s dead”. Oh well, modern sensibilities, good or bad?, gosh, I don’t know. Do you?

Life is hard for most humans.

My life has been a breeze,

 I should be dead instead of Don,

 but, here I am breathing

  just as big as you please.

 What a mystery huh? Anyway, I’m growing weary of  this lesson next door. I think its great that she is helping him but, it went on too long for me, selfish bastard ain’t I?, as I cast shadows on other’s behavior. Please forgive me Lord in this, I’m sorry that I am so un-loving, self-centered, and ugly. Please be near, now, and forever.

11/23/2009 A.M.

Hey, I’ve arrived. The seasons of life. Remember the book ‘Passages’ by a woman named Sheehan? Am I correct? Gail? Anyway when I come here to the ‘mac’ in the morning it makes me–yes, forces me, I have no choice in the matter–think of phases and epochs and ages in my life. I’m old enough to remember some of the very first ‘macs’ around the country, US of course. There was one in Dayton, Ohio on the east side of town that was on a road that ran parallel to the freeway. It wasn’t considered a ‘freeway’ in those days. It was just ‘the road’ that went to Dayton, a two-lane named 35. I forget the name of the road but I remember that it had a few of the new type restaurants on it along with some commercial stuff, a run-down hotel or two and, of course, a few churches. At that time it was almost ‘out-of -town’. There was a A&W Rootbeer Stand near along with an old Kroger store which shared a corner with Elder-Beerman which was a middle class clothing store, shoes and all. 

The (you know what color) arches were not integrated into the main structure then but were full arches which ran alongside the building from front to back. It was as though the building itself was supported entirely by the arches. I remember an old toy that was popular, you would pick it up by two handles coming out of it’s sides and spin the middle part around and around at a pretty high-speed. The fun of it was the sound of course, kind of like a clicking, whining, WHIRRRRR!, do you remember? Well anyway the building made me always think of that toy; it was like I could pick it up by the (you know what color) arches and spin it around and around WHIRRRR!….

It was not a large building in fact, I don’ recall if there was inside seating, I don’t believe there was–just order and pick-up at the same window. I could be wrong, I’m picking a young boy’s memory. I don’t remember the food much except for the french fries because fries were known to us from carnivals and county fairs that would move through town. I don’t think there were hamburgers and cheeseburgers much before then, I don’t remember. I know there certainly weren’t hamburgers and cheeseburgers served up in my family. I remember that The Root Beer Stand had Mama, Papa, and Baby burgers at that time or soon afterward. So, the ‘mac’ does not pre-date my childhood as it does most of the world’s population today.

Hey, it’s 9:30 a.m. here in the middle of Amerika, monday morning, my first day back to work after the last snowstorm. It turned into 5 days of rest, some nervousness, and some relaxation. That’s about the average time off after these types of storms here on the high plains of Colorado. The truck is loaded and I am waiting for another few degrees to get started. It’s useless for me to work the gardens when it is much below 32 degrees, so, here I sit, waiting, enjoying the warmth of the morning sun through the tempered, tinted glass.

Lots of older folks come here in the mornings. Yes, older. In fact the youngest one here, if he or she were to ask me my age, would say after my response, “oh, you’re just a kid!”.  These folks ain’t fools; the coffee is cheap and good, no one seems to care if you ‘hang-out’ for a while, you get the latest gossip and usually the spouse stays at home. Rarely do I see ‘couples’ here. Most of them seem to be old friends, they pack themselves into small sections even though they have all the space available that they might want. There are two and three of these groups every morning in the same spots, same times, same smiles, same frowns. I’m sure that some of these folks hung-out at some of the other restaurants  when the economy was a bit better, like the Village Inn and Perkins. Undoubtedly many of these people were affected by the losses in the stock market, especially their 401k’s, money-market and retirement accounts. Sad.

The women talk the loudest, especially the ones that are sitting right with the men. The other small groups of women are very quiet, almost whispering, probably about the women who are sitting with the men. Funny huh? Seems like a ‘rite of passage’ being played out here. These are fortunate ones, no rest homes yet for them, yet. It reminds me of when I was in elementary school, competing for attention, always the same people; the quiet and reserved, the loud and obnoxious. The ones that know what they don’t know and the pretenders. The ones who live, the ones who have only lived vicariously through others.

Hey, I’m out of here, on my way to a garden that was covered with snow two days ago. If the snow is not melted I have a few other projects I can work on today. Once I get started it is not too un-comfortable–it’s just the getting started part I have to get past, make it history, work up a sweat, focus. Thank you Lord for this wonderful day, please be near, now and forever.

11/22/2009 P.M.

Here at the ‘mac’…only slept 2 hours last night, it’s dry here, my skin gives me a hard time of it in the winter here on the high plains of Colorado. It is a ‘semi-arid’ enviornment so, what am I complaining about huh? Hey, get the Corn-Huskers out, you fool! I ended up in the Lazy Boy for a few hours before I decided to get out and get something done. I worked on the blogs and e-mails (I’m always behind), until about 11:00 a.m.; ate some cereal, worked on the blogs, went  to Wal-mart–yes I still go there (can’t afford not to)–to pick up some supplies and now, I’m at the ‘mac’. I feel right at home here.

It’s a sunny day, chilly, with a wonderful BIG BLUE sky. Sounds like Michael Jackson on the radio. Typical crowd here as when I’m in early, looks like some of the fat girls from the bank next door are taking a pretty early lunch, maybe their first break. I can see through the office windows; looks like any office I suppose, at least ones I been in. All kinds of stuff everywhere. See, this is MY spot, MY kids and MY dog on MY wall. Yes, I feel at home here because they let ME put all of these–un-work-related–artifacts all around, wherever I can find an empty spot. Yes, this is MY spot. Some in shorts, me: insulated gear, it’s cold.

The latest ‘Go Down Moses’; gambling, murder, death in the family, worry, fear, white/black  and a ‘hangin’. Who you think got hung up, a white man? A big man got hung up cause he caught a little man cheating again, he’d been cheating for the last twenty years but, things were different, there was some hope. This part of the story reminds me of Samson in the book of Judges. A big man, kinda stupid, but had a talent for being un-predictable. Sent to save his people but couldn’t get the job done, for personal reasons. Yep, personal reasons. He was big, strong, lost his wife, had visions and wanted to follow her, she would aways dis–appear, poof!, up in smoke. He could smell her. Sad story, by a white man, white point of view. How can I understand?

Hmmm, these apple pies are really good today, just right, right amount of heat. Need some heat. The furnace vent is right above me, thank you Lord, it’s those little things. I know that it is this ‘mac’ coffee that makes me itch and I am drinking more of it, you’d think I liked to itch or something. What do they put in this stuff. Hey, coffee is really expensive, the commodities traders are telling us to buy coffee futures. When or if I do the bottom will fall out that very day. We need to get Negroponte and North down there to straighten them coffee farmers out, times a’wastin. I’m always a day late and a few dollars short. Why not  just short coffee, right? I’m going to bet against coffee, Negroponte, North, and Ben Bernanke. I hope he doesn’t get re-confirmed. I’m not convinced that he gives a hoot about us folks that come to the ‘mac’ for coffee and apple pie. What do you think? Hey, they got ice cream here and people are eating it, it’s not even 20 degrees outside. Hey, I ain’t complaining, she’s a good looker. I’d eat ice cream with her, cold or not, I’d even buy hers, in fact, I’d buy her a couple of em’.

Lord, I do love you and I know that I set a very bad example, please be near Lord and save me from all of this mess. Please forgive me my part in it. I am the Man Lord, please be near, now and forever….mz