Live and Let Blog

The Cement Swinger

2008-09-02T15:41:00.001-05:00

One hot, sunny, sticky, sweltering Sunday afternoon in the not so distant few weeks past I heard a knock on the door. My neighbor, we shall call him J. came over to see if the kid would like to go swimming at their pool.

DW said sure and took the boy over. I informed her that I needed to work on my fence and didn't plan on making an appearance. As I worked my fence posts in my back yard, I could hear the splashing and the joy coming from my boy as he cooled off in the above ground pond half encircled by a sun weathered deck.

I was noticed and called so I went over to say hello and brag on my "big" little feller in the big boy pool. After listening to a brief but disconcerting discourse on Nascar and Alabama football, I politely excused myself to continue my toils.

No sooner than I had gotten back into the details of my task, I heard J. yelling my name from across the way. So I trekked back over. Apparently J. had been pestering DW to get in the pool so she told him to "tell the boys daddy to come get in the pool" with the kid. She later informed me that J. had to ask what my name was.

Now back over at J.'s I began to notice two things. One, J. was rather rapidly consuming more than his share of adult beverages and two, he would stop asking my wife to get in the pool, clothes and "everything".

I tell "guy" that she isn't going to comply. I remove my shirt (easy ladies) and jump in the pool. I play with Jackson. Its fine, fun even however I was never quite comfortable making this visit. J. goes into depth on an array of pointless topics, constantly repeating himself in his progressive stupor until he makes the oddest of comments. Ol'J. starts telling me what a good woman his wife his and so forth and so on.

Now I am starting to question what the ol'boy's intentions are. If he says the first danged word about being swingers I'd have punched him in the gullet and calmly walked back to the safety of our own domain. Somehow the conversation reverts back to the repetitive jibbersh he spewed earlier.

Once again he mentioned to DW that she needed to just go ahead and get in the pool and at that point we made and executive decision on our end and began to leave. In my haste to leave, J. who was quite drunk by this time made reference to my work ..ing my fence. He pledged right then and there his devotion to help me with my fence if I'd help him with his.

Granted, I am more than happy to help a neighbor, but this son of a gun watched me build the fronts and sides to my privacy fence last summer. He watched and made comments as I hit and dug up boulders in my attempt at setting posts. So my work on the fence at this point in the story was rather minor. It was the last hurrah to tie the back of the fence together as to enclose that baby for future dogs and whatever else you do with a completely closed in back yard. Suffice it to say, I needed zero help. Also dear reader, I am not sure if it's been mentioned but I like things my way. I am quite particular about how tasks get completed, very picky you might say.

I left and told J. that sure, I'd help "him". Next thing I know as I am beginning to set posts is that I see J. sneaking into my back yard, shirtless and shoeless, to help a brother out.

He caught me at a bad time. A few of you may be aware, but I have constant nagging knee problems. I was bent over clutching a knee that appeared to have locked up on me. So J. assumed that I really needed help at that point. He picked up the post hole diggers and started wailing on my previously completed and tamped holes. As he raised the height of the holes and ignored my pleas to stop, his wife came over and scolded him for not wearing shoes. She also asked him to watch their baby.

I tried to convince him that I was at a stopping point but instead I wound up watching a baby and a drunk. He asked if I was going to sink the posts in concrete. Why oh why Lord did I not simply say, "no".

So he walked over to pick up and place an 80 pound sack of concrete in my wheel barrow. My yard has some crown or slope so when he attempted to grab the sack he and the wheel barrow went tumbling. It was pretty funny except that he was mucking up my whole operation.

After I placed the sack in the wheel barrow I watched him try to tear into the bag with his bare hands. It got worse. He started mixing the cement with his bare hands. I could not get a hoe in the wheel barrow to save my life. Wonder what he did next? He started scooping the cement with his hands and dumping it in my holes where the posts sat waiting. Dude's wife came over and said "honey, use a shovel". I informed her that apparently J. didn't believe in shovels.

I think she realized how perturbed ol'RW had become so she scolded J. and made him go home, but not before I hosed concrete off his face, arms, chest and legs.

He came over the next day to apologize, admitting that he didn't really remember what had happened. And praise be to the Lord that he hasn't attempted to assist me in my further tasks even though I caught him watching, longing to help.

Why didn’t you get your own fries?

2008-09-02T15:37:00.001-05:00

Sunday, April 20, 2008

we trotted over to BK to get a quick bite for din din. my hands were stained from potting soil. i could have cared, but i didnt (and yes i was wearing my shorts).

so i get a burger and some fries. i dont even want a burger and some fries. i really dont want the fries expessially. But when my wife who didnt get any fries starts eating fries off of my laid flat burger wrapper / plate substitute, i friggin lost it.

i didnt really lose it so that you would notice. i cut my eyes and asked why she didnt get her own fries. she acted like i lost it and threw three (count them, one two three) french fries at me. it was priceless. we looked like we belonged, what with me in my shorts, us with landscaping stained hands and throwing fries all willy nilly at each other.

on the inside yes, i was really peeved at her grabbing my fries.

she said that was selfish and rude. i said that it was a normal guy response. guys' minds if not kept in check revert back to teen age fight or flight mentality over food. my mind says " yo rob, you know we need two burgers, not just one burgers and dont forget fries or we will die of starvation, jess saying".

to bring this story to a quick close, i would like to finish by saying that we didnt even finish the fries. we didnt want those nasty things in the first place.

we might even kiss and make up later...hubba hubba.

Spectors in the Morning

2008-09-02T15:36:00.000-05:00

Wednesday, April 09, 2008

Lots of ppl that i have heard or read that see ghosts, see them in the early morning when the sun is shining through the windows even though the drapes are closed and the ppl are still sleepy.

this morning as i walked from the laundry room back to the bedroom i saw an image slowly turning its head towards me. it was my wife on the potty. i exclaimed in a shriek, "why you gotta sneak up on me in the mornings?".

she had no reply as she was sleep walking and probably didnt even hear me.

a few minutes later, dressed and getting ready to go, i was searching through the very top cabinets for my various vitamins. on my tippy toes reaching for a bottle of vitamin C, i saw something float towards me. again, it was the wife coming around a blind corner.

i yelled at her, "geez, i thought you were a spector! you almost gave me a heart attack woman."

"A spector?", she questioned.

"yeah, like a ghost or a demon or something."

She punched me in the arm.

i left for work.

Maid Close to Manhattan

2008-09-02T15:35:00.001-05:00

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Maid Close To Manhattan? A play on the movie title "Maid in Manhattan"...get it? Yeah, it didn’t really work for me so much either.

I am between NYC and Englewood NJ this week. The maid at my hotel spent time lounging in my room today. How do I know this? Read the following true life story of one Rob Wylie.

I arrived back to my room this evening about 6:30pm. The maid knocked on the door almost as soon as I closed it. She handed me a bottle of Saratoga natural spring water and two chocolates with a smile. This water comes in a fancy blue-ish purple bottle. Its quite stunning for bottled water actually. As I drink it I imagine that I dipped it from an actual natural spring....nah not really, but you get the point.

So the maid gives me the chocolates, winks, says "ok" in the form of a question and walks away. "Ok" I say back in my best spanish accent.

They are supposed to leave the water and sweets in the room when they clean. They usually clean the rooms around midday. I thought that was a tad fishy but whatever, my feet hurt and I wanted to rest.

The night before I had been watching television and turned the closed caption off because it was bothering me. Tonight when I turned the television on, the closed caption was on again, but now in espanol. "Aha!", someone had been watching television in my room. I put two and two together. The maid is hispanic. The television shows were in spanish. Who else could it be?

My room is at the very end of the hall so I imagine that she sat in here, supervisors unaware and watched her spanish soap operas for a while. There are like four spanish channels on this television. Unbelievable.

I feel as though my privacy has been invaded. I unadvisedly left valuables in the room but they appear in order. Who really knows til I discover something missing though.

I leave for Alabama tomorrow, but before I jet out of here, I am going to try and catch her. I will update on how that turns out...maybe.

Ski Trip

2008-09-02T15:34:00.001-05:00

Thursday, January 24, 2008

I am the most humble of persons, but to tell the truth, I am a natural skier. I am being sarcastic (not the good skier part, thats true). That's not very humble is it? Well, you know that old saying, "humble is as humble does". I made that up, I think.

We went to Beech Mountain in North Carolina recently, very recently actually. I had never skied before. My name is Rob. I am 31 years of age and I had never skied. I don't know why. I stand before you, a man, transparent. Go ahead and judge me.

I digress. We get the skiis and lift tickets and with such arrangements taken care of, off we go. I strapped on the skiis and bent over to grab my ski pole. As I did, I started to fall, caught myself and felt like I dislocated my shoulder. No biggie, I am not a girl. "Suck it up Sally", I told myself.

I watched a few people falling on the low grade bunny slope. I shook my head in disapproval. "Losers", I thought.

My turn. I stepped out onto the snow and bam. I fell so fast and hard that I didn't know what happened. I stood up pointing in two different directions screaming, "who hit me?" No one noticed or cared for that matter.

I played around on the bunny slope for a while. I helped kids, showed off my skills and started giving tips on how to slow down and stop. Sure, I'd had absolutely no formal lessons or any lessons at all for that matter, but that didn't stop me from telling people where they zigged when they should have zagged.

Really and truly, I started to get the hang of this "skiing". Another member of our posse finally asked me if was ready to step up my game, to which I said, "Ready? I was born ready!" (yeah, I am that smooth, I know you were thinking it).

Up the chair lift I went. The first slope was a lesser difficult intermediate freestyle slope. It was fairly steep enough grade with one curve. "I got this!" And I did. "Not a bad job sailor", I said to myself.

I went down that slope a few more times and began to manipulate the downhill with the greatest of ease. Back and forth I went. I was infact, King of the Mountain.

Now that I was a professional skiier in just a few short hours, I went down with the posse again and watched Holly pick up too much speed towards the end of the slope. "Slow down Holly", I screamed. "No CRAP", she screamed back (I am fairly certain she didn't say crap, again I digress).

She fell and we were terrified. She laughed after the fact. I didn't see how. It wasn't a graceful tumble. She is a real trooper.

We stood around the entrance area for a few minutes. My poor old left knee started aching so I tried to pop it while standing on the aforementioned skiis. Yeah. I fell. DW's Uncle approached me with a smile. "Rob, they are having tryouts for the Olympic ski team right over there, behind us. They said you shouldn't waste your time thinking about 2010." I gave him the thumbs up.

Larry Paul who had skiied once before asked me if I was ready to take on the big mamma jamma slope, thats right, it had a sign that said "more difficult".

"Sure, (again not tryin to seem redundant) I was born ready!"

As I started to ski over to the chair lift I felt I needed to stretch out my tired bum knee. I fell. I lost a pole. My ski came off. I was embarassed. I ski down the hill so good, but I dont stand around so well. I stood back up, gathered my equipment and slipped into the lost ski. I turned to find Larry Paul and I fell again. Awesome!

As we took the lift to the top of the mountain, I began to entertain thoughts as to how crazy this was. We were skiing at night. It was almost ten p.m. and we started around six p.m. My knee was bothering me. And we could begin to see how high up the mountain we were going. These slopes were steep. People were flying down. They looked experienced enough and BOOM, they would wipe out.

As we hopped off the chair lift and I attempted to clean the icicles and fog away from my goggles, I wondered how I would make it down without dying. What would happen if I did? How long would it take someone to find me? This probably wasnt such a good idea, but it was too late. The only way down was, well, to go down.

I forgot to mention, but my beard was covered by real icicles. Right before I was seated on the chair lift the attendant asked me if I was cold. I replied with a no and asked why? "Because you have icicles all over your face, man" he laughed.

Anyway, as Larry Paul and I headed down the mountain I tried to maintain somewhat of a controlled speed. Unfortunately it didn't work out so well for me. My knee buckled and I came a crashing down.

I found myself alive and stood jubilant that I might not die. Larry Paul would surely be much farther down by now. As I redonned my skiis, I saw someone waving like a madman. I waved back thinking it had to be Larry Paul checking on me. It wasn't.

I started back down. I skied thirty five feet or so and fell again. The snow was really hard at this point and I couldn't slow down. The harder I tried to slow, the more my knee quit. Yeah, I fell again.

A small girl, probably a pre-teen, stopped to help me gather my poles and skiis. I think she had witnessed the back to back wipe outs and was a tad concerned. Almost as though she was a worried parent I pleaded with her to go ahead and not be troubled with me. She finally left. I am sure she sent the rescue team after me on a ski mobile when she arrived at the bottom. I know this because as soon as I actually made it down, I saw them rush off in a fury as though there was a body to recover. Those ski mobiles look like big fun.

Finished for the night, I turned in my equipment. I had stared death in the face. I conquered Ski Beech. I was my hero, surprised?

I have not had so much fun in a long long time. It was the best vacation of late that I can recall. I want to go back and ski once or twice more again this winter so let me know if you would like to come with.

While on the trip Jackson became the champion of sledders like his old man. He gives it that old college try. I couldn't be prouder. Several times he just closed his eyes and yelled at the top of his lungs, "make way!"

DW was so good at the sledding that she bounced right off the sled. I gave her style points for her landing. Ask her about it.

We also had to purchase snow chains. Why you ask? While the main roads were kept in impecible condition, the "other roads" were not. We almost slid off into oblivion. That of course was the first time during the trip that I stared at death and laughed, ha...ha, harumph. I turned my nose at it. I looked the other way and just ignored it. What a snob. Jackson didn't feel the same though. He had decided temporarily that this trip was a bad decision and that we needed to get on home. He did later change his mind.

In all honesty, this trip was a blast, one of the best ever. We really appreciated the invite and the hospitality shown to us. Thanks to Eddie and Sandra and Amber and LP and Lee and Holly and Rick and Jennie and all the kids. We can't wait til next year!

Perfectly Fitting

2008-09-02T15:33:00.001-05:00

Tuesday, January 08, 2008

I think it is perfectly fitting that dw's new nickname is Judge. Her name is Dana which of course is derived from the name Daniel. It is of Hebrew origin and it's meaning is "God is my judge".

I give my dear heart plenty of flack for an exaggerated legalistic, judgemental worldview. The exaggeration is due on my part; she is infact a sweet and extremely compassionate individual,I digress.

Judge only shows her judge side to me and the family and it has made for lively banter between us. She is very much a stellar conservative. I am a mixture of conservative and libertarian perspectives.

I informed her just last night that I was considering voting for Obama. She hit me square in the mouth. I was in fact joking. You have to love her.

She is as american as apple pie but I am corrupting her, to be sure.

Judge laughs at all of my jokes. Jack is exactly like his daddy, so it seems that all she gets nowadays is funny business.

Judge tells me how to drive and always alerts me as to my speed whilst traveling down the highway. I don't have to worry about whether or not the vehicles in front of me are slowing down, Judge tells me. Sometimes I thinik that I could drive the car with my eyes closed as long as she's in the the passenger seat.

We make a great team.

Judge loves to play games and thinks that the Waltons was the best tv show ever made. I won't disagree.

She is opinionated. She is smart. She is a teacher by trade and a wonderful mother. She is funny. She is beautiful. She is confidence and self doubt all rolled into one. She is mine and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Hey Judge, I love you.

rw

p.s. its Roscoe P. Coletrane, NOT Roscoe Peko Train.

Where do you want to eat?

2008-01-03T15:48:00.000-06:00

We eat out considerably more than I would prefer. It's just so much easier than cooking and cleaning the kitchen, besides it lends itself to socializing. I guess the biggest problem associated with this habitual practice is that you flat wear out every spot and nothing sounds good to eat.

On a balmy Sunday afternoon rw and dw headed to town to meet her sister and husband, "Ross".

The phone rings: "hello"

Sum: "hey its Sum, where do you want to meet for lunch?"

dw: "i dont care, where do you want to go?"

Sum: "It doesnt matter to us, y'all decide."

dw: "ok, how about mexican?"

Sum: "we just had that."

dw: "well, what about that little soup and sandwhich spot?"

Sum: "or we could do seafood."

dw: "ok"

Sum: "it doesnt matter to us, but what about Red Lobster?"

dw: "ok"

Sum: "where would you guys rather go?"

dw: "well, we said mexican, but you apparently would rather go to Red Lobster, so lets do that."

Sum: "are you sure?"

Ross (in the background): "which one has better coke?"

At this point dear reader I must admit that I lost it, whatever "it" is. Which one has better coke? I havent heard anything that funny in the context of such a situation in a long time.

Ross (still in the back ground): "ok, I am about to pass the House of Chen, somebody needs to let me know if thats where we are going or not!!!"

What a kidder he is, the girls hate chinese, especially crappy chinese.

Where do you want to eat? That coupled with the famous "what do you want to eat" seem to be the most complexing question of our time in a world filled with so many choices.

Since I've been married, the "what do you want to eat" question has probably been asked more than other questions. I guess its our final frontier.

What do you want? I dont know.

Where do you want to go? I dont know, what do you want.

The more perplexing detail is that no matter where one suggests, its almost always immediately dismissed, especially if its one of the primary suggestions.

A woman wll look at the menu fifty times and still get the exact same thing. Its quite funny actually and I guess there are worse problems to have.

My time is up and I thank you for yours.

Peace out Monkey Sticks!

rw

This Is Why I Can't Take Health Food People Seriously

2007-11-29T13:42:00.000-06:00

4 Healthy Foods You Should be Eating Posted Mon, Nov 26, 2007, 5:46 pm PST
-->84% of users found this yahoo article helpful.

Beets
Beets are one of the best sources of folate, a nutrient which lowers your blood levels of homocysteine, an inflammatory amino acid produced by the body.

One cup of beets provides only 60 calories, no fat, about 40 percent of your daily value for folic acid and four grams of fiber. Enjoy beets raw, sliced.... or prepare a delicious beet salad by tossing them with olive oil and a splash of lemon.

Cabbage
Part of the cruciferous vegetable family, one cup of chopped cabbage contains 20 calories, two grams fiber and is loaded with sulforaphane, a cancer fighting chemical that's been shown to decrease cellular damage throughout the body. Add cabbage to your salads, order steamed 'moo shoo vegetables' at your local Chinese restaurant (request sauce on the side and go easy!), or prepare low-calorie coleslaw.

Guava
Guava is a tropical super fruit. One cup provides 110 calories, 376 milligrams Vitamin C (that's more than 300 percent of the daily value), 699 milligrams potassium and nine grams of fiber!Guava also provides a hearty dose of lycopene - an antioxidant that appears to fight prostate cancer (when it comes to lycopene, most people only think about tomatoes). You'll find this exotic fruit in Latin grocery stores and at high end markets.

Swiss Chard
This vegetable's greatest health benefit comes in the form of lutein and zeaxanthin - a matched pair of antioxidants - found in high concentrations in the tissue of the macula.

Because they absorb 40 to 90 percent of blue light intensity, these nutrients act like sunscreen for your eyes. Studies have shown that eating foods rich in lutein and zeaxanthin can increase the pigment density in the macula-and greater pigment density means better retina protection, and a lower risk of macula degeneration. One cup steamed Swiss chard provides only 35 calories.

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See here, I do not even know what swiss chard is or where to find it for that matter. These people find validity in saying fancy pants things like this...

"oh Victoria, you simply must try the swiss chard, its simply divine."

To really make an impact, for people to really take notice in this "see how uber cool and hip" health food world of which you and I both reside, they should say things like, "yeah, Broccoli sucks, just put some cheese on it and you'll be fine."

or how about this, "eat what you like, just less of it you pig you."

Then I might say, "there goes a person who knows their stuff. Kudos."

Don't come at me all willy nilly screaming "eat the cabbage, it'll help you poop and it's low in calories." I am not hearing it!

I actually want to read articles about how to eat healthy in an unhealthy fast food society, but telling me about guava is about as good as telling a poor person to make more money so they can pay their bills. It's not really a solution.

It's funny that 84 percent of people who read this article found it helpful or useful. I got a name for those people, "liars", everyone.

So go pat yourself on the back Miss health food article writer, I am sure you think you deserve it.

seperation of church and state

2007-11-29T11:31:00.000-06:00

I don't normally post other people's articles but I found this one interesting....whatever.

Face it atheists: You are religious

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tristan Emmanual Posted: November 29, 2007

The left has purposefully confused and distorted the debate about the separation of church and state, and it is time they were hauled up on the carpet for it.
Harvard law professor and civil libertarian Alan Dershowitz was interviewed in the Ottawa Citizen this month. Speaking about Pat Robertson's endorsement of Rudy Giuliani, Dershowitz said the endorsement was "the best thing that's happened in a long time. It exposes the cynicism of both of them. The fact is Robertson is endorsing Giuliani not because of his religion but despite it, so it makes it very clear that Pat Robertson's religion is really politics. His Jesus packs heat, cuts taxes and hates immigrants ."

I almost had to agree with Dershowitz – just a little. The endorsement did smack of cynical politics. But Dershowitz's comment also revealed a staggering level of ignorance and hypocrisy.

For one thing, Dershowitz, who styles himself an expert on Thomas Jefferson, the founding father made famous for the "wall of separation" clause, loves to treat Jefferson as though his were the only voice speaking in the history books.

Dershowitz says that what Robertson has done is violate the very foundation upon which the America was constructed. "Jefferson would be turning over in his grave."

A little background is important here. According to Dershowitz, Jefferson was not favorably disposed toward Christianity. He was a Unitarian. He rejected the divinity of Jesus and the inspiration of the Bible. He even rejected the Ten Commandments because they were vindictive. In fact, Dershowitz says, "Jefferson didn't want Christian religion to influence American politics."

But what about the "being created equal before God" clause?

Dershowitz says that when Jefferson wrote that, he wasn't talking about the "God of the Bible"; he was talking about "nature's god." Jefferson was a deist. He didn't want "monkish interference" in the commerce of the state.

Now, I'm no expert on Jefferson. But it strikes me as peculiar that Dershowitz and his ilk tend to ignore the body of evidence that shows that the majority of the Founding Fathers were Christians with a Christian political ideology.

When the framers of the U.S. Constitution discussed the issue of church vs. state, they were talking about a separation of institutions. To put it plainly, they were saying that "the government of the church should not interfere with the business of civil government," and vice versa. They wanted a separation of the institutions and their structures, because they didn't want a particular church to run the government of the people – just as they didn't want a particular government to run any church. But they patently did not envision a society where Christians had no right to vote according to their convictions, run for office as Christians, or apply their Christian views about civil government to their duties while they were in office.

Is Dershowitz guilty of a little revisionism here?

And another thing. If mixing church and state is really the national kill-joy Dershowitz and his cronies claim it to be, and if it indeed violates the "spirit of Jefferson," then why aren't the Democratic hopefuls being castigated for parading their "piety" on stage in the primaries?

Why are the catcalls about confusing personal faith with politcal leadership not as vitriolic and visceral and shrill when the religious left – in the persons of Al (poverty-pimp) Sharpton and Jessie (pandering-racial-tension-mongerer) Jackson – are glad-handing with Obama, Hillary or Edwards?

Hypocritical? It's even more egregious than that.

There's a blatant contradiction in Dershowitz's excoriation of Pat Robertson. One is led to believe that what he's really upset about is not that Pat Robertson, a "man of the cloth," is involved in politics. Rather, it is that Pat Robertson, a "man of the cloth," is involved in politics with the wrong party. A party that believes in the First Amendment rights of Americans, limited government and border security – all very Jeffersonian in spirit.

The debate about church vs. state has never been about keeping religion out of politics. It has always been about whose religion gets to influence and drive the political agenda. And one thing the left hates is free market competition, especially in the arena of political ideas.

Because whatever you make of Dershowitz's politics, always remember that there simply is no such thing as religious neutrality. Whether or not he professes a belief in God – or goes to a church or synagogue – has nothing to do with it. Alan Dershowitz is not non-religious. Everybody, Jew, Christian and atheist alike – we are all religious in the sense that we all have a set of assumed presuppositions about life and morality. These presuppositions make up our religion. It's called a worldview. And everybody has one.

Unfortunately, when the critics of Christianity argue the "church vs. state" paradigm today, they're trying to eliminate the competition in the political arena. They want Christians to keep their religious worldview in the closet, while they get to parade their secular values in the open for all to see. And Dershowitz provides a good example of this approach.

So next time you hear an opponent tell you to "keep your religion out of it," tell him, "Fine, as long as you keep yours out first." Of course, that's impossible, because there is no such thing as a religious vacuum in politics – so you might as well keep the secularists at bay and push back with Christianity.

I Didn’t Know You Could Vote on Stuff Like This

2007-11-28T15:54:00.000-06:00

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

I wanna vote on my afterlife too!

Let's cut out the middleman and y'all just vote me into heaven, ok?

"Dalai Lama offers his flock a vote on whether he should be reincarnated"

www.timesonline.co.uk/tol...955350.ece Its a 3page read if anyone wants to peruse it further. --> -->

Nov.28, 2007 - Faced with Chinese plans to seize control of his reincarnation, the Dalai Lama has come up with two revolutionary proposals — either to forgo rebirth, or to be reborn while still alive.

The exiled Tibetan Buddhist leader proposed yesterday to hold a referendum among his 13-14 million followers around the world — before his death — on whether he should be reincarnated or not.

If the majority vote against it he said he would simply not be reborn, ending a lineage that tradition dictates dates back to the late 14th century, when a young shepherd was appointed the first Dalai Lama.

If the vote was in favour he said that he might appoint a reincarnation while he was still alive, breaking the 600-year-old tradition of being reborn as a small boy after his death.

His proposals not only raise some mind-bending metaphysical questions: they put China's atheist Communist leaders in the unusual position of claiming to be the protectors of Tibetan Buddhist tradition.

Should Spanking Be Banned?

2007-11-28T15:48:00.000-06:00

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

I am not sure if any of you have noticed but Massachusett's lawmakers are hearing a bill today (wed) that would ban parents from spanking their children.

two links about the story www.boston.com/news/local...hment_ban/

and www.time.com/time/nation/...53,00.html

Summary of both articles

The measure -- being heard Wednesday by a legislative committee -- defines corporal punishment as "the willful infliction of physical pain or injurious or humiliating treatment." Representative Jay Kaufman of Lexington said he submitted the bill at the request of a local nurse.

Several lawmakers said parents are best able to decide on discipline, and point out that state law already bans the physical abuse or neglect of children.

The state's highest court ruled in 1999 that parents could spank their children, so long as it doesn't cause serious bodily harm.

Some lawmakers question how police could possibly enforce such a ban.

The Legislature has ended formal sessions for 2007, so the earliest the bill could be debated would be next year.

---------------------------

Need a lesson in parenting? If you live in California, you may have to take one from the government whether you like it or not. Next week, Assemblywoman Sally Lieber will introduce a bill banning the practice of spanking children younger than four. If passed, the state will become the first to make the corporal punishment of infants and toddlers a misdemeanor — punishable by up to a year in jail and a $1,000 fine — along with more than a dozen countries, mostly in Europe, that have laws against the practice. "Young children can't run or speak for themselves. They are sitting ducks for abuse," Lieber said. "And it is just not true that the current law protects children well."

She's not the first American to argue that legislation is the answer. The town of Brookline, Mass., successfully passed a resolution against spanking in 2005, although similar statewide efforts have failed. Last year in Massachusetts and 15 years ago in Wisconsin proposed anti-spanking bills did not get much support in the legislature; critics feared that it would be impossible to enforce a ban against such a common practice.

According to the American Demographics' 2004 data, nearly half of parent-age Americans think it is an appropriate mode of discipline for children 12 and younger. Even more surprising, only 27 states have actually banned corporal punishment from their public school systems.

But new California bill may have a better chance of success. Unlike previous attempts, the age restrictions will make the bill more palatable to many.

While the assemblywoman has outlined a proposed punishment, she has yet to address how the bill would be enforced. In Europe, most countries consider the ban on spanking an educational law, which means that on the first couple of offenses parents receive a fine and attend mandatory parenting classes on discipline. "I don't know how the European laws would really translate in the U.S.," Block said. "But I do think an educational law is a good way to go." Like child abuse, unless the child reports it or the spanking leaves a mark and is reported by a relative or teacher, it will be very difficult to detect when parents are violating the law.

"A hundred years ago it was considered a novel idea for the law to say you couldn't hit your wife," said Block. "Today, we can't hit slaves, wives or military personnel. Children are the only class that is unprotected."

-------------------

There are already laws in effect concerning abuse. The problem is the agencies involved either don't or can't do their jobs properly most of the time.

There is a huge difference in giving your child a swift swat on that fanny and beating the ever loving mess out of them.

I spank. I don't beat. I truly belive that if Jackson didn't get the occasionaly swat on his hineside, he'd be much worse off.

Kids are different. What works for one child may not work for another and parents need to recognize that. We talk to Jackson and explain his behavior and what he did wrong. We warn, but when push comes to shove, sometimes a rowdy little boy needs that pop to keep him in line and let them know that as a parent, you mean business.

Timeout works, but not in every situation. Taking privileges away works, but not all the time just like spanking is not always necessary.

I also worry about the governments ever increasing role in telling citizens what they can and cannot do and governments will always do what the people allow them to.

I would have never imagined a world where I could go to jail or have my kids taken away from me because I chose to punish them accordingly but with love.

Well folks, it looks like it may be coming to that. What say YOU?

If Academics Mattered . . .

2007-11-27T19:57:00.000-06:00

then this is how the current top 25 would look according to the "Higher Ed Watch Blog".

Put to the task by ESPN's Tuesday Morning Quarterback, the Higher Ed Watch developed an alternative BCS formula to draw attention to the academic performance of big-time college football teams and colleges in general. Just like Higher Ed Watch did last year in partnership with another think tank Education Sector for the NCAA college basketball tournament, we set out to see which top-ranked college football teams perform best in the classroom.

Applying the Academic BCS formula to the teams currently ranked in top 25 in the BCS poll produces a very different ranking. Instead of perennially-dominant LSU, Ohio State, and Georgia sitting at the top, Boston College, Cincinnati, and Auburn would be headlining the national championship discussion.

A complete explanation can be found here: http://www.newamerica.net/blogs/education_policy/2007/11/academic_bowl_championship_series

According to ESPN http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?page=easterbrook/071127&lpos=spotlight&lid=tab2pos1
this is how the big bowl pairings would look if academics mattered with the BCS ranking following the school name:

Allstate BCS Championship Game:
Boston College (127.80) vs. Cincinnati (97.25)

Rose Bowl Presented by Citi:
Auburn (73.15) vs. Boise State (68.90)

FedEx Orange Bowl:
Virginia (60.45) vs. Virginia Tech (60.15)

Tostitos Fiesta Bowl:
Clemson (59.35) vs. USC (51.65)

Allstate Sugar Bowl:
West Virginia (47.85) vs. Arizona State (46.35)

Exiled to the bottom of the A/BCS and the pre-New-Year's bowls named after lawn equipment and mufflers:

21. LSU (29.95)

22. Ohio State (28.55)

23. Oregon (8.35)

24. Texas (7.85)

25. Hawaii (-2.35)

Note the University of Cincinnati, often derided for low graduation rates in men's basketball, does very well academically with regards to Division I-A football. Note Auburn, subject of a recent scandal regarding some football players passing classes they seem never to have attended, gets the third seed in the A/BCS rankings, quite a respectable academic performance.

Six, thanks for the memories Bama

2007-11-26T12:24:00.000-06:00

next . . .

Getting Ready for the Iron Bowl

2007-11-20T10:05:00.000-06:00

My collection of Bama pics.

Kissing Bandit

Honk and Wave

2007-11-13T10:22:00.000-06:00

Thursday, November 08, 2007

I am not ready for any burnt down bridges just yet.

I don't want anything except that if we drove side by side going down the highway that we could honk and wave.

My grandparents live in a small town where everyone waves when they drive their vehicle past another and it doesn't matter if they know each other or not.

I try this from time to time and compare with it with statistical data recorded from a previous trip to their small town.

DW thinks its funny. I give a honk and wave. Most of the time I simply throw up the pointer finger while still gripping the steering wheel. I always try to do this in such a timely fashion that the other driver, be it a stranger or friend has time to acknowledge said friendly gesture.

If I get a wave or a finger lift of sorts then I count it. I also count head nods and hat tipping. You don't see as much hat tipping these days. I have been trying to no avail to bring it back, you know, kind of what Timberlake did with sexy, only more successful.

When I travel up north of the Mason Dixon line, which is quite often, I do this routine as well. Or at least I did for a while. From Rhode Island to Pennsylvania with New York in between, I get zero responses other than the occassional serial killer type who is looking for prey and quickly turns their car around to follow while I have to dodge and weave to lose them.

I don't count so much up there anymore. It also doesn't pay to say sir or ma'am or hold the door for the next person through or even smile for what its worth.

If you say sir, then someone expects you to carry their bags. If you say ma'am then you must be implying the lady is old and that is particularly frowned upon these days in those neck of the woods. If you hold the door open you need not expect the same in return.

You will however find that people are allowed to wedge their cars in traffic by nosing the front end past your vehicle changing lanes. Down South, we have a more fighting attitude about the car etiquette than they do up North. They can even honk and no one cares. If you honk at someone in Alabama you might need to be ready for an altercation of sorts. Up there, a honk is way of saying "hey buddy, you can go or wake up" but its not usually very mean spirited.

But as for me? I want to be able to honk and wave. I don't want to burn down bridges with anyone. Do I agree with everyone I meet and know or every place I go? No, but I am still going to tip my hat in your general direction.

Life is too short to carry any anger, besides the only person pent up anger hurts, is the the person carrying it around.

Be of good cheer and listen to the song on my profile by Limbeck, its called "Honk and Wave".

RW

RESPECT

2007-11-06T23:18:00.001-06:00

I want this to come off in the right light. I have questioned writing this blog and may add another as it comes to me. I dont want to this to seem distasteful whatesoever, but I keep thinking about my friend. I can only see the good memories.

My dear friend has passed away. I hadn't been as close to my friend in the last few years. You know how life gets in the way. People have things going on and my friend had been battling with leukemia.

I talked with him a couple of months ago. Things had since turned tougher for him.

He is the first person from my what used to be close knit friend group to pass away. He was only thirty one years young. As a matter of a fact he had only just recently had a birthday. It is very hard to think about, but I keep making myself do it. Life is so short. It is so precious. Chris was a precious person.

I remember meeting Chris in the ninth grade in Mrs Bain's science class. We had met in middle school but didnt really know each other.

I wasn't doing good in the class. I didnt care about it at all. We both joined the science club to earn some extra points. The group was about to take a trip to the space and rocket center in Huntsville and we had a blast.

I can specifically remember us talking about the particular jeans we were both wearing. No one else had a pair. Its funny the things you remember.

Chris picked me and a few friends up that weekend to go out and find a party or at least time to kill. Tyrone and Dwayne were there. A more senior classmate bought us some cheap wine. Chris didnt drink any at all. Tyrone threw up later that evening from too much to drink.

I remember that we drank too much as young people, but Chris never drank. He was always the funniest guy around though.

One summer while still in high school Matt, Ian, Chris and I spent a week in Gulf Shores. I remember that as the best summer of my young life.

Someone always lost something at the beach. The something was usually keys. Chris and I had a knack for finding things like this, even at night. We went to the beach several times through the years and we always found ourselves finding someone's keys.

That first summer in Gulf Shores Chris met a girl from Kentucky who he became enraptured with. I can remember him talking about flying a helicopter to see her like it was yesterday.

Chris and a few of us panned for gold another summer. We didnt find anything with any value, but I will always have the memories of driving around the area between Hollis Cross Roads, Heflin and Randolph County looking for gold. We drove up every dirt road we saw looking for a stream to pan. We just knew there was gold in them there hills.

We always had parties at Chris' house. Dwayne fell through the ceiling one night. We had been in Chris' attic. I dont remember why but Chris led a bunch of us into the attic. We were in exploration mode I guess.

We were always in exploration mode with Chris. I recall him leading us through the Weaver Caves. We went as deep into those caves as anyone had gone. We found a room in those caves with clay and a little water to mix with clay. We rolled the clay and formed out our names and stuck them to the walls. I wonder if those names are still there. I am betting that they are and it makes me want to crawl back through those narrow spaces to trace my steps and see them one last time.

Forgive me, I can't help but tear up a bit.

Once while still in high school we thought there was some kind of conspiracy going on with the administration. Chris told us of rumors of an underground at the annex building. The army had set up camp in the in campus parking lot one night and we set out to scope out what was going on. We eventually persuaded the teachers to take us to this supposed underground area. Nothing really turned up.

Nothing ever really turned up, but it was always an adventure.

I worked at a book store with Chris for a couple of years. We moved to Auburn at the same time. Chris was always around and he was good for a belly ache of laughter. He had such a gift of mischievious, sarcastic, good natured humor.

Oddly enough, Chris and I moved back from Auburn about the same time. His heart had been broken and at one of his parties I remember finding him hiding in an old freezer. I thought he was just trying to be funny. He didnt have to try to hard.

Later on, he lived on one side of the old apartment at Christine Avenue in Anniston. We all lived in one side of that duplex at one time or another.

The last time I really remember seeing Chris was at Ian's bachelor party. Tyrone and I showed up and Chris was the only one there already waiting. He had a box of a dozen glazed Krispy Kreme donuts and told us nonchalently that he had leukemia but that he was better now.

He was his old funny self. He said some things to me that night that were as funny as anything I remember anyone ever saying to me. He didnt try to be funny, he just was. There was no effort whatsoever.

Chris always laughed uncontrollably at my Jerry the Llama stories and ee cumming's goat footed ballon man. I WILL always remember him. He will forever hold a special place in my heart and I think of him constantly right now.

Forgive me as I tear up right now. I miss my friend.

Chris, I will always love you as a brother.

Robby

Blow Out That Cherry Bomb For Me

2007-11-06T23:16:00.000-06:00

I flew up to NYC on tuesday. I have plenty of pictures detailing the trip, but I forgot the cord for the camera to download said pictures.

I really should have waited until I uploaded the pictures to write this blog, but whatever, right?

It is Wednesday night. We drove into Manhattan for dinner at Smith & Wollensky's. Wow, good spot, its on the corner of third avenue and forty ninth street. You need to check it out if you have a chance.

There were about nine of us including the president of my company. We took two vehicles as we had a large group and a fifteen minute drive. I couldn't believe how much traffic there was on 9A tonight. Six of us were Auburn guys. Three were recent grads from Southern Miss. One of the lads has a girlfriend from the Jersey shore, kinda.

They dubbed her "Diablo". This is in part to the wicked tattoo she has on her person. It says diablo which means the devil or so I am told. They painted the picture to represent her as wild and crazy. This lad is a mississippi boy. They are infact not a fit.

The other guys ragged him all night about Diablo. He rambled on about her being from Belize. I kidded him about the mafiso wannabes that she might have had as past boyfriends when he informed us that he asked her if she had dated any mexicans.

I found this to be humorous. How did he come about this inquiry? He simply put it out there, point blank. I found out that he wasnt so much discriminating against the mexican peoples as much as he was concerned about getting cut over some jersey tramp. Forgive me, this was the discussion and I guess you had to be there.

We had an excellent dinner starting off with lobster as an appetizer and a nice steak.

We had another group out on the town. One of the chiefs was a 67 year old guy that works for us. They had a limo and he was standing out of the roof top window and happened to drive past us as we left the restaurant. He was headed to an around the way joint in Soho. He was singing a Limbeck song

Theres really nothing else to do except laugh.

"i am not saying that i am ready for a burned down bridge.

I am not saying that I want anything from you except that if we drove side by side in the beehive state that we could smile and honk and wave."

This man, i shall refer to as Ron had been skydiving earlier in the week. He is also the same gentleman I told you about before that used to be close friends with Burt Reynolds...no kidding.

The limo stopped at the light at the next corner. A couple of us ran over to meet him.

Ron yelled at two passerbys, "hey foxy lady, wanna ride? are there any problems you see? whats that got to do with me? you can do what you wanna do, its nothing to me. Lets cut out the middle man."

He has no fear of the underdog, thats why he will not survive. New York City might be too much for that old man from Alabama.

I told him so much and he responded that "it cant all be wedding cake."

I summized that "Diablo" would have agreed.

It has been without question, an interesting evening.

Ole Miss Game and Pluto Amongst Other Things

2007-10-28T20:16:00.000-05:00

I am not going to say a great deal about the game. I have lots of pictures that I need to post. I think Jackson had a blast at his first night game in Jordan Hare. Good for him.

DW bought him cotton candy. I felt little grubby hands on me and looked down to find that he was using my sleeve as his napkin. His face and fingers were stained cotton candy blue. He was a real good boy, watched Aubie most of the night and only said one curse word....really.

You may not be aware, but this family tries to abstain from using coarse language to convey our feelings. Anyway, some old dude behind us starting cursing when another old dude trying to move down the aisle bumped him, causing the cusser to drop his radio.

Jackson being the repeater, followed the man in kind with an Awww Shi-doo doo (pg-13 here folks). Classic. His mother became rather aggravated at said gentleman, not that he cared.

The eagle, Spirit flew and the game kicked off. Auburn moved the ball pretty well and Rod Smith put the ball on the ground. Geez alou.

Tubs kept it pretty conservative not wanting to turn the ball over again and let his defense win the game.

Auburn held Ole Miss to less yardage (193 I think) and less points than any other SEC foe Mississippi had seen, not a bad night if you like defense.

As conservative as the playing calling was, Auburn still picked up abot 420 yards with 189 passing allowing Brandon Cox to jump Pat Sullivan as 3rd on the list of Auburns passers and tied him with Stan White with 40 career TDs.

Injury news: BC seperated his non throwing shoulder but will start against Tenn. Tech and Craig Stevens hurt his ankle. I bet Johnson will fill the gap allowing Stevens time to heal up.

BC will start against Tenn. Tech, but I dont see how he can stay in long. Tenn Tech is horrible, just horrible. Tubs wants BC to get enough time in so that he and the O arent lacking in certain fundamentals and technique. There is an off week after the TTech game. That would be alot of time off if BC missed the game.

I hope Kodi gets to toss the ol'pigskin around. I am tired of seeing him come in only for designed runs, typically a draw or an option carry.

Also, Robert Dunn dressed but didnt get to see the field, except from the bench.

We did see my aunt with her camera on the sidelines. Thats a sweet deal. I need a nice camera now.

In related news, as we drove home, before Jackson fell asleep he told us how much he loved us. He always says something sweet like " I love you all the way to the moon and back down to the earth"...on this night, this four year old inserted "pluto" for the moon.

Then I informed him that astronomists have decided that "pluto" is no longer considered a planet. We went back and fourth a few times, "yes it is", "no its not" when DW told me "rob, he is crying. He had read a book that listed pluto as a planet.

"Pluto is a planet Jack, it is....I promise."

Life...good stuff and War Flippin Eagle, I love you.

R.

Rambling Monday

2007-10-22T13:54:00.000-05:00

october 22, 2007

I feel like I am closer to 100 percent than I have been since last week threw me down and jumped on my sternum.

I flew in last Thursday night around 12 in the morning and I succumbed to jet lag. I felt as bad and slept as much the next two days as I had in recovery phase for the last few months, easy.

Standing in line to board the plane, I bumped the guy in front of me with my bag. My bag bumped his bag actually. He cut his eyes and asked me if I was in such a hurry, did i want to go ahead of him. I told the gentleman that he needed to relax, my accidental bumping was not indicative of an unpleasant, hurried attitude on my part.

That is the attitude everyone gets and gives in the airports these days. If you are the occasional traveler who is taking a holiday flight, you might not notice this wretched demeanor lurking uncontrolled, but I see it every where.

The worst part of flying, for the somewhat hurried flier, is getting off the plane. You have to plot and scheme before hand. If you wind up storing your bag in an overhead behind where your seat is located, then you will be forced to wait for the entire flight to deplane before retrieving your belongings.

Location, location, location, it matters when dealing real estate, be it on the beach, a nice neighborhood or an overhead compartment on a canidAir regional jet.

The next worse thing for me is waiting to claim your baggage at the self explanatory baggage claim area. This may take upwards twenty to forty minutes. Oh the agony of futher prolonging your trip, just let me get home.

At New York's Laguardia Airport, there are several flights that require one to be bussed out to the plane's parking location. The direct flight to Birmingham is one such flight, where persons must cram into a little bus before being crammed on to a little plane. No big deal.

So everyone now off the little bus and onto the plane, myself included found themselves buckled into their seat, patiently awaiting departure. I told the gentlemen in the seat next to me that I would move to the outside seat since it looked like we were all on board. Men dont want to have to sit side by side on a plane if we dont have to, so I moved over. No big deal.

I looked up from my magazine a minute or two later and new persons were boarding the plane as they had just arrived via their own little bus.

An older gentlemen in his (best guess) sixties walked up to my seat and asked "10A"? "Yes", I responed, "I actually have 10B".

"No problem, stay where you are, its cool, man"

"Nice", I thought to myself. Not only do I not have to sit knee to knee with another man, this guy's great attitude lifted my wary traveling spirit. I have a new faith in the goodness of people.

This guy was dressed like an executive with a hippy old man flavor and he said words like "cool" and "dude". He also carried some kind of mandolin looking instrument. I imagined he had played some club or symphany in Manhattan.

You just dont hear old timers saying "cool" a lot. My granddad doesnt say it. My dad doesnt say it. Will I eventually feel the need to quit saying "dude" and "cool" or face being viewed by whipper snappers as a "hippy"?

I discussed the timely or timeless nature of such expressions with a couple of buddies over the weekend. It was funny because the day before this had been a highlighted discussion with another group.

I dont really know where this pondering is going, but I do know, that if you make friends with people who say say "cool", every thing will work out...maybe. I dont know...this all now sounds so silly.

goodwill to you,

r

A Late Night Conversation

2007-10-22T13:53:00.001-05:00

Thursday, June 21, 2007

[Thrust into the middle of a conversation as two gentlemen discuss their world]….

Friend 1:"I'm not sure what you mean?"

Friend2: "We'll my point may not be entirely clear. Let me rephrase it if you will. Did you ever think that everything we are doing is so much more complicated than it should be?"

Friend 1: "I suppose, but are you talking in generalities or is there a specific claim that you are attempting to make?"

Friend 2: "In generalities, but I can definitely get more specific if you so desire".

Friend 1: "That I do friend that I do".

Friend 2: "Let me preface the crux of this conversation with a blanket statement first. I am laying the blame at your feet, at my feet and at everyone's feet. This desire to be entertained has become what most people live for; there is nothing that really motivates most people beyond self serving ideals and the want to be entertained almost constantly".

Friend 1:"Yeah, I know what you mean. People are lazy".

Friend 2: "Sure, yeah, people are lazy but is that the real reason or just another symptom? I mean why are people lazy and I am talking beyond work, their occupations. And let the record show that I am speaking to more than this laziness. "

Friend 1:"Ok".

Friend 2: "What motivates you?" Why do we allow the things that go on in our world? Why do people not become more involved? Why do people just complain about all that's wrong? Why do most people not even realized what it is that is wrong? Our society is becoming very dumbed down if you will. People come home from a day at work and turn on their television sets and become zombies."

Friend 1: "What motivates me? To do what?"

Friend 2: "Motivates, inspires, the driving force behind what you do, what you know, who you are. I believe this conversation is about to become very cumbersome and all over the board. Shall we continue?"

Friend 1: "By all means, proceed".

Friend 2: "You know this is a rare event, not many people even care to broach this type of subject without a nice cup of coffee. Whadda ya say?"

Friend 1: "I've got a pot of tar brewing as we speak. It's not decaf, is that ok?"

Friend 2: "I don't drink decaf anyway. I guess I'm just kinda fed up with a lot of stuff. The government and I am not talking about the current administration. Beyond that, I'm talking about the pork barrel spending and the career politicians who have no desire to actually represent their true constituency, the people. It's the church, its Hollywood, it's family; it's about getting real and telling the truth and not this slant on late night comedy central that is being accepted as true".

Friend 1: "I guess it's just easier to go to work, then come home and turn on the television. People feel like nothing they do can change anything anyway. You know, it is a fact that each generation becomes more liberal than the one before them and that doesn't necessarily mean that it's always a bad thing. For example, people always used to go about town to go to the movies or whatever, dressed in a suit. Remember Barney Fife, he wouldn't take ol'Thelma Lou to go skip rocks down by the lake unless he was wearing his trademark salt and pepper suit and his fedora".

Friend 2: "I totally understand what you mean. Most people don't even wear a suit to church, if they even go to church and I don't think it's at all a bad thing to be a little more casual with your Sunday wear. Not everyone can afford a nice suit and who wants to wear a suit and make others feel like they are in some way inferior. People have enough to contend with on a daily basis."

Friend 1: "Not everything liberal, progressive means better though".

Friend 2: "Of course not, besides the word liberal has so many different connotations anyway".

Friend 1: "What's your beef with the government?"

Friend 2: "It's just so huge. There is so much waste. I guess I am a little more libertarian in my stance about government, not all the social issues mind you, but especially in the way of smaller government starting with state's rights. Do you realize that there is something like 365 representatives in the House and 100 in the Senate and that all over them have huge salaries with a staff of at least 15 people that make a good living too? Look at how much we pay judges, and most of these career politicians will get a check for the rest of their lives. I just don't get it."

Friend 1: "I see what you mean, smaller government, less red tape and definitely less money wasted".

Friend 2: "They have legislated so many laws, rules and regulations that are great on some levels but just create more of that red tape you mention on most levels. The more rules you make, the more rule breakers you create."

Friend 1: "Of course, you do need rules and laws such as laws against driving under the influence, laws against breaking and entering…"

Friend 2: "Yeah, those are the gimmies, but a bigger question, who is making the laws and why are some people and companies exempt. It's all about how much money you have to support a lobby group or how much money you have to defend yourself in a court case because we all know liberal judges are legislating from the bench. It comes down to money and the separation between the haves and have-nots is getting wider every day. It's not just the republicans, its both sides. Take a guy like John Edwards for example, he has made his millions by doing his part to ruin health care and insurance in this country by suing every Tom, Dick and Harry".

Friend 1: "It's very much like it was when the Pharisees and Sadducees ruled Israel during Jesus' time. The letter of the law kills and they were making laws and rules that benefited them".

Friend 1: "What can people do about it though?"

Friend 2: "Maybe nothing, but maybe if everyone would unglue themselves from the boob tube long enough to realize what is actually going on, and demand that these politicians do their jobs and elect people that will actually represent them and our ideals, the very things this country was founded upon, but its not just here, its in every country. Take Venezuela, Chavez comes in under this cloak of Socialism, a system that if it could work, which I don't believe it could is a system in which property and the distribution of wealth are subject to control by the community, the people. Chavez has seized the oil fields, heck, its not even a state controlled issue, it's a Chavez controlled thing now".

Friend 1: "People like to have their ears tickled. Tell me what I want to hear and then 'boom' you've got representatives or dictators dictating".

Friend 2: "Haha, and Chavez says Bush represents an evil empire. Bush has his problems no doubt, but he isn't doing anything close to what Chavez is doing. I guess its like it says in the Bible somewhere, people will begin to believe the lie, whatever it is and then the lie becomes the truth and the truth becomes a lie. Very interesting…"

Friend 1: "Really, its human nature, its like Snoop D. O. double G. said in the mid-nineties, "you gotta get yours before I gots to gets mines"."

Friend 2: "True, true".

Friend 1: "Who knew old Snoop was a philosopher?"

Friend 2: "I didn't".

Friend 1: "Well now you do Chico".

Friend 2: "I didn't mean to go on such a rant about the government of all things".

Friend 1: "It's ok, I forgive you pal".

Friend 2: "Do you think people like to think?"

Friend 1: "Nah, not really, no more than they like to wait on fast food I guess".

Friend 2: "Ha ha, ain't that the truth".

Friend 2: "I mean really, people can't by and large, tell you what they believe in or why they believe in it. It's all about emotions and feelings".

Friend 1: "Ha, you are the one sounding whiny tonight".

Friend 2: "Hush up little sailor before I tell everyone how much you like to watch Grey's Anatomy".

Friend 1: "Those sound like fighting words".

Friend 2: "Maybe, but seriously, if people would just figure out what it is they believe and in and be able to substantiate it, reiterate, discuss…"

Friend 1: "You are asking too much of people".

Friend 2: "I think not, my only request is that they pony up".

Friend 1: "Well, can you define what it is that you believe in with such conviction?"

What do we know

2007-10-22T13:51:00.000-05:00

Monday, May 07, 2007

What do we know?" and "How do we know it?"

Can you perceive "it" with the senses?

Were you born with this knowledge? Do you prescribe to the thesis of tabula rasa that humans are born with a "blank slate"? Is it nurture or nature?

Our modern idea of tabula rasa is mostly attributed to John Locke's expression of the idea in the 17th century.

In Locke's philosophy, tabula rasa was the theory that the mind is at birth a "blank slate" without rules or information, and that information is added and rules for making decisions are formed by a person's sensory experiences. This notion is central to Lockean empiricism.

According to Locke, tabula rasa meant that the mind of the individual was born "blank", and he emphasized the individual's freedom direct their own path. Each individual was free to define their on character, but the basic identity as a member of the human species cannot be altered. It is from this presumption that Locke came up with his doctrine of "natural" rights.

It is generally recognized by scientists that the entire brain is indeed preprogrammed and organized in order to process sensory input, motor control, emotions, and natural responses. These preprogrammed parts of the brain then learn and refine their ability to perform their tasks. The study of genetics has proved Locke's version of tabula rasa to be flawed.

Empiricism is a theory of knowledge which emphasizes knowledge that is closely related to experience, either properly inferred or deduced. It's also a fundamental requirement of the scientific method that all hypotheses and theories must be tested against observations of the natural world, rather than resting solely on a priori reasoning, intuition, or revelation ("A priori" knowledge is independent of experience, while a posteriori knowledge is dependent on experience). Hence, science is considered to be methodologically empirical in nature.

Interestingly enough, neither evolution nor faith can be tested and verified in the natural world. You can observe supposed effects of either, kind of like saying you cannot see the wind, but you can see and feel the effects of the wind. Neither are considered certain knowledge. We only have knowledge of the theory, but not of what the theory describes

Empiricism is commonly contrasted with the philosophical school of thought known as "rationalism" which, in very broad terms, asserts that much knowledge is attributable to reason independently of the senses.

How do we acquire knowledge?

People have used many methods to try to gain knowledge.

By reason and logic

By mathematical proof. By the scientific method.

By the trial and error method. By learning from experience.

By an argument from authority. By listening to the testimony of witnesses.

By conversation.

By observing the world in its "natural state"; seeing how the world operates without performing any experiments.

By acquiring knowledge from language, culture, or traditions.

By some claimed form of enlightenment following a period of meditation.

By having a divine illumination or revelation from a divine agency.

Changing gears a little from the "what do you know, how do you know it" theme, I want to bring up another question: "what is knowledge in the first place"...

Knowledge is defined by the Oxford English Dictionary variously as (i) facts, information, and skills acquired by a person through experience or education; the theoretical or practical understanding of a subject, (ii) what is known in a particular field or in total; facts and information or (iii) awareness or familiarity gained by experience of a fact or situation.

Philosophical debates in general start with Plato's formulation of knowledge as "justified true belief".

The classical definition by Plato, states that in order for there to be knowledge at least three criteria must be fulfilled; that in order to count as knowledge, a statement must be justified, true, and believed. I would disagree that one of these conditions is not true. I do not think a person must believe it, for it to be true. I suppose this reduces the argument to "does a tree in a forest make a sound when it falls if no one is there to hear it?". You could also say it like this "He believes it, but it isn't so", but you could not say "He knows it, but it isn't so".

What constitutes knowledge, certainty and truth, are controversial issues.

There are a number of problems that arise when defining knowledge or truth, including issues with objectivity, justification and even knowledge acquisition involving complex cognitive processes: perceptions, learning, communication, association, and reasoning.

Beliefs

When you say you believe in something, what does that mean?

People misuse the word "believe" almost as much as they do the word "love".

If you say you believe in something, how did you come to this knowledge and does it cause you to act in a certain way?

Beliefs are also very problematic because they are either true or false, and therefore cannot be adequately described by conventional logic.

Most people accept that for a belief to be knowledge it must be, at least, true and justified. To be justified, we have to have a good reason for believing it to be correct.

If someone believes something, he or she thinks that it is true, but he or she may be mistaken. This is not the case with knowledge. For example, suppose that Sam thinks that a particular bridge is safe, and attempts to cross it; unfortunately, the bridge collapses under his weight. We might say that Jeff believed that the bridge was safe, but that his belief was mistaken. It would not be accurate to say that he knew that the bridge was safe, because plainly it was not. For something to count as knowledge, it must actually be true.

If one believes in God (for example) but does not act on this belief, then this belief is not, in fact, much of a belief after all. If one, however, upon having Justified True Belief in something (such as God) and decides that he or she will make decisions which demonstrate this knowledge, then the belief in God will therefore not only be valid, but also evident.

I have heard the argument against justification for an ontological decision, that it can only justify what is existential but remember there are many ways we acquire information. Knowledge can be passed down and taught as tradition, conversational, from enlightenment or divine illumination and how could someone else dispute these methods?

Why do you believe what you believe? How is it justified? Does your belief or lack thereof cause any action on your part?

'Cause I gotta have faith...

2007-10-22T13:50:00.000-05:00

Wednesday, May 09, 2007

Kierkegaard has been called a philosopher, a theologian, the Father of Existentialism, a literary critic, a humorist, a psychologist, and a poet.

One of his popular ideas is the "leap to faith," or the "leap of faith ."

The leap of faith is his conception of how an individual would believe in God. He thought that to have faith is at the same time to have doubt. For example, to truly have faith in God, one would also have to doubt that God exists; the doubt is the rational part of a person's thought, without which the faith would have no real substance.

Doubt is an essential element of faith, like a type of beginning. To believe or have faith that God exists, without ever having doubted God's existence or goodness would not be a faith worth having. For example, it takes no faith to believe that something you can see and touch is real especially when you are looking at it or touching it. In the same way, to believe or have faith in God is to know that you can't really see or touch God, and yet still has faith in God.

Doubt is uncertainty in the context of trust, action, decision or belief. It implies challenging some notion of reality in effect, and may involve hesitating to take a relevant action due to concern that one might be mistaken or at fault. It's a type of skepticism, but it should NOT be confused with atheism. Doubt prods a person to ask questions.

Faith has two general implications which can be implied either exclusively or mutually; to trust or to believe without reason.

To trust means that you believe based on personal hopes or believing in certain ideas despite having much evidence. I think that faith leads you to discover how real or unreal something is and this "faith" has forced me to discover what I have determined to be True Knowledge.

Its foolish to say that someone believes in something without reason. It would be better to question how valid you deem that "reason" to be (i think that its a stupid rule in the english language that you arent supposed to end a sentence wtih a preposition...sometimes it just fits ya know).

There exists a wide spectrum of opinion with respect to the epistemological validity of faith. One philosophical extreme is fideism, which holds that true belief can only arise from faith, because reason and evidence cannot lead to truth. Some foundationalists, such as St. Augustine of Hippo and Alvin Plantinga, hold that all of our beliefs rest ultimately on beliefs accepted by faith. Others, such as C.S. Lewis, hold that Faith is merely the virtue by which we hold to our reasoned ideas, despite moods to the contrary.

Many noted philosophers and theologians have espoused the idea that faith is the basis of all knowledge. One example is St. Augustine of Hippo. Known as one of his key contributions to philosophy, the idea of "faith seeking understanding" was set forth by St. Augustine in his statement "Crede, ut intelligas" ("Believe in order that you may understand"). This statement extends beyond the sphere of religion to encompass the totality of knowledge. In essence, faith must be present in order to know anything. In other words, one must assume, believe, or have faith in the credibility of a person, place, thing, or idea in order to have a basis for knowledge.

I think that this is true because one simply does not have the time or resources to evaluate all of his knowledge empirically and exhaustively. "Faith" is used instead.

It is sometimes argued that even scientific knowledge is dependent on 'faith' - for example, faith that the researcher responsible for an empirical conclusion is competent, and honest. A person could argue that scientific discovery begins with a scientist's faith that an unknown discovery is possible. Scientific discovery requires a passionate commitment to a result that is unknowable at the outset. The scientific method is not an objective method removed from man's passion.

Sometimes, faith means a belief in a relationship with a deity. In this case, "faith" is used in the sense of "fidelity." For many Jews, the Hebrew Bible and Talmud depict a committed but contentious relationship between their God and the Children of Israel. For a lot of people, faith or the lack thereof, is an important part of their identity.

More friends than you can imagine

2007-10-22T13:48:00.000-05:00

Friday, July 06, 2007

"Jamison, i have written a new song"

"yeah?" asked jamison.

"i did."

"ok."

"Do you want me to sing it for you?"

"Sing what?" jamison said.

"the song i just wrote, man."

"Ok."

"ok?"

"yeah, ok." jamison stated in a defeated huff.

"nah, you dont act like you wanna hear it, ill just surprise you when you least expect it."

"i do want to hear. I want nothing more right this minute than to hear this song you wrote. i want to hear it and i want to hear it NOW!" jamison exclaimed.

"you say that now, but i mean, just five seconds ago you didnt. i read your body language. you're being a dufus."

"i'm not being a dufus, i have a splinter in my finger, JEEZ." jamison pouted.

"let me see it."

"no, you were going to sing the song."

"song?"

"yea, the song you wrote, remember?"

"it can wait. i need to see this splinter. i am calling your bluff."

"oh, i have a splinter, but it will be a cold day in hades before i show it to the likes of you." jamison said defiantly.

"thats what i thought."

"are you going to sing that song for me or what?"

"are you sure you want me to?"

"yes, for pete's sake, i wanna hear the song."

"i'll sing the song, but if your splinter is going to distract you, then i won't."

"dont sing it then, whatever."

"ok, ill sing it. [now singing] its the circle of liiiife. More friends than YOU can imagine. its the circle of life."

"stop. i have heard that before."

"no you havent i just wrote this song."

"i have heard that before. that candle in the wind guy sang that, but it didnt have the more friends part. More friends than you can imagine? what does that mean?"

"what do you mean, "what does that mean"?"

"how can you have more friends than you can imagine? is that more friends than i can image or more friends than you can imagine?"

"its subjective."

"i mean, i can imagine alot of friends."

"how many can YOU imagine?"

"alot".

"define alot, is that like forty?"

"no. forty is keeping it in the box, i can imagine an infinite number of friends."

"how?"

"how what? how can i imagine an infinite number of friends or how is that keeping it in the box?"

"the infinite part."

"i dont know. i just see a line of friends that never stops."

"what do their faces look like?"

"it doesnt matter."

"sure it does."

"well the line is so long that i cant imagine the faces til they get closer to me. the people in the back of the line are kinda blurry."

"i could imagine an infinite number of friends plus one."

"thats stupid."

"no its not, its mathematics. simple mathematics."

"why dont you go ahead and imagine infinity plus infinity then."

"now thats just crazy talk."

"you're right, that is crazy talk."

"no kidding."

"this whole conversation is ridiculous."

"dont say such hurtful things, its makes for a rather unpleasant conversation. Besides, imagining lots of friends isnt crazy, its nice. If everyone imagined more friends than they could imagine, everybody would be friends and we wouldnt have wars and murders and telemarketers."

"maybe."

"have you ordered your scooter yet?"

"we should really discuss that at the meeting."

"whens the meeting?"

"tonight. save it til then."

"ok, i gotta jet."

"see ya buddy"...[humming to himself] its the circle of liiiiife, more friends than you can emajeeeeen"

To Hell With Your Standard

2007-10-22T13:47:00.000-05:00

Sunday, July 15, 2007

[Thanks Mr. Lewis]

Ever heard someone arguing? How did it sound? Unpleasantly annoying? Funny?

These remarks especially from children are truly something we can learn from. Do you remember the kind of arguments you had as a child? I have a four year old so my memory has been refreshed. The types of arguments typically center around whats fair, whats right and whats wrong.

"Give me a piece of your candy, i gave you a piece of mine. Come on, you promised."

or

"thats my seat, i was there first, so what if i had to get up for minute" (or the alternative when i was growing up was "i called shotgun, i get the front seat.").

Now, whats interesting about such remarks isnt so much whats said but that one person is usually appealing to some kind of standard of behavior that he expects the other person to know about and rarely does the other person say to hell with your standard.

The other person may argue that he was not really going against the standard or that if he was he had some kind of acceptable special excuse.

Both parties it would seem have in mind some kind of sense of fair play or morality, whatever the case.

Arguing your case means you are trying to show the other person is wrong. Why would you try to prove something to be right unless there is an accepted sense of whats right and whats wrong?

Taking the human race as a whole the thought of decent behavior is fairly obvious to everyone. Everyone's sense of right and wrong varies a little, but world wide its pretty common amongst people groups to not steal or kill or lie or the like. Everyone (all the major religions regardless of how different) basically follow something resembling the golden rule.

If there wasnt a sense of right and wrong, then we could have no more blamed homocidal murderers or Nazis or whoever for what they did wrong anymore than we could blame them for the color of their hair.

Its funny when in the rare event you run into a person who doesnt believe in a real right or wrong, they are appealing to that same standard as soon as it suits them. He may break his promise to you, but as soon as you break your promise to him, he is screaming "its not fair" faster than you can say Hulk Hogan.

How well then do any of us keep to this standard? By and large we all believe it, unless we are lying to ourselves (and sooner than later, people believe their own lies), but unfortunately like children we are good at keeping to this standard when it suits us and making excuses when we fail at it because we cannot bear to face it and try to shift the responsibility to someone or something else.

Its never our fault, is it?

Next some objections and thanks again Mr. Lewis, you are the best. Thanks for your comments, friends.

crime and punishment

2007-10-22T13:46:00.000-05:00

Monday, July 16, 2007

What is this law of decent human behavior or natural laws or moral compass or whatever you feel comfortable calling it?

Is it an instinct? I am not denying we have certain instincts, for example the herd instinct or sexual instinct or the instinct of a mother. We all know what it feels like to be prompted by instinct. Its a strong desire to act in a certain way.

BUT this feeling of desire to act in a certain way is much different than the feeling you "ought" to act in a certain way.

If someone is in danger, you may feel you should help (herd instinct) and you may feel you should flee to save yourself from danger. In addition to these two impulses, you have a feeling you "ought" to follow the impulse to help. It is a separate thing, this "ought" and it cant be itself and one of the first two impulses or instincts.

For arguments sake, if instinct was the moral compass and like in this example there are two impulses, which then is the good choice and which is the bad choice?

Confused? Dont be, although this easily could be a stumbling block, hold fast and i'll make another point.

Lets use a soldier as an example in this situation. In battle, he would have both impulses, herd (help and fight) and flee. There is obviously going to be times he should fight and times he should flee, how would this instinct define the "good" choice? If he killed a man in battle that could be justified, but if by the same instinct he killed a man over a simple argument back in his hometown after the war, how would you justify that?

Or we could use a husband as an example. He obviously should have a sexual instinct or desire for his wife and fulfill his marital duty, but what if he had a sexual desire for some strange woman and acted on that against her will. There is time to suppress any instinct so there must be another standard or law of behavior that leads a person to know when to encourage or suppress a given impulse.

You could also think on this like a note on a piano. Every single note is right at one time and wrong at another. Think on this law of human nature as the "tune" directing the notes or "instincts".

Ok, we have ruled out (at least in my mind) that its not instincts, could it then be what we have learned, perhaps from our parents?

You cant rule it out, but this law of human decency is more than that. Lets say we have two sets of parents and one set of parents upheld this "law" and taught the children well and another set of parents did not embrace this law and taught their children a different set of rules, one that encouraged a more subjective rule. Is one right? Is one wrong?

If no set of rules were truer than another, there would be no sense in preferring a savage society to a more decent one or a Nazi society to a society that embraced a "golden rule" mentality.

The moment you say one set of rules is better than another, you are using a "standard" to make that determination. We are measuring the rules by a standard that the majority of the civilized world inherently knows.

If there was no standard, then we would all agree that no one deserved any punishment, or imprisonment or even the death penalty regardless of the crime.

If someone killed a person dear to your heart, would you not declare that the perpetrator deserved punishment? You would and you would be using this law of human decency as your standard.

Thanks Mr. Lewis, its all you big dawg, its all you.

the russian cosmonaut monk letters

2007-10-22T13:38:00.000-05:00

Monday, July 30, 2007

While visiting DC, Wilde spotted a group of monks entering a Borders Bookstore. Wilde always interested in talking to different peoples from all over the world entertained the thought of going over and talking to them.

From across the street where the Hotel Harrington faced the Borders Bookstore, Wilde yelled to the group of monks...

Wilde: hey guys, wait up!

The monks appeared to have paid little to no attention to Wilde. Wilde yelled again.

Wilde: I like your robes!

This time Wilde caught the attention of the youngest looking monk who was holding the door for the others.

Monk holding the door: hello back (he said in almost a whisper).

Wilde: Can I come to the other side of the street and speak with you?

Monk: Son, you are on the other side of the street.

The monk tried to keep a straight face but wound up laughing hysterically. The other monks had already entered the bookstore and the monk seemed freer to laugh.

Wilde ran across the street before the crosswalk timer expired.

Wilde: hey there (Wilde extended his hand for a shake)

Monk: (glanced down at Wilde handed and shook his head indicating he preferred not to shake and then slightly bowed toward Wilde. Wilde bowed back.).

Wilde: Hi, I am r.wilde. nice to meet ya.

Monk: my name is Takamoto.

Wilde: what is that? Chinese? Japanese?

Takamoto: I not reely sure. Chinese, I tink.

Wilde: oh, its not your real name?

Takamoto: no, real name is Yuri Kozlovsky. That no reel monk sounding name, ya know? You may have heard of me. I am famous Russian cosmonaut.

Takamoto had been one of the infamous Russian cosmonaut crewmembers that had been accused of "flying drunk". After much ballyhoo his good name was later cleared, but he never rebounded from the negative press. He left his village Svetlana where he had at one time equaled David Hasslehoff's fame. He was never able to reach the Russian celebrity status again and became very depressed.

Svetlana was the same village that Napoleon's grandmother had been raised in and their families were close. Napoleon's grandmother's youngest living relative, Napoleon's great great great great great great great nephew, the Great Blandino had been a monk. He had one son from a marriage before joining the monastery. His son Martin joined up and talked Yuri into the idea. They both aspired to learn Kung Fu and practice the art of Japanese tree trimming called Bonsai. Martin told Takamoto that Bonsai would cure his depression.

Wilde asked to meet Martin too, but Takamoto informed him that Martin had taken a vow of silence for 5 days and besides he was looking at books in the gardening section and was very focused on memorizing certain pages so he didn't have to buy the book. Takamoto hated to bother him.

Takamoto was great to talk to. The two discussed many things. Before Takamoto would be allowed to learn Kung Fu, he had to pass his trial period.

There are trial periods in becoming a buddhist monk to see if you would want to become a buddhist monk, if you in fact do, you stay there at the monastery The monks must follow their disciplinary code called the Patimokkha. There are around 300 rules that Takamoto had to remember and obey. This obviously consumed much of Takamoto's time in the monastery.

They talked in depth about these rules. Takamoto had problems with the logic of certain rules. Below, the rules Takamoto disliked are itemized.

Parajikas Rules

If a monk breaks any one of the rules he is automatically 'defeated' in the holy life and falls from monkhood immediately. He is not allowed to become a monk again in his lifetime. Intention is necessary in all these four cases to constitute on offence. The four rules of parajikas for bhikku are:

Sexual intercourse, that is, any voluntary sexual interaction between a bhikku and a living being, except for mouth-to-mouth intercourse which falls under the Sanghadisesa.

Stealing, that is, the robbery of anything worth more than 1/24 troy ounce of gold
Takamoto, number one hated to not have a girlfriend. In Russia, he had many girlfriends. But the rule that bothered Takamoto the most was rule No.2 about stealing. He decided to test the limits and would constantly steal items of almost no value. He didn't need them so he would wind up discarding them.

Sanghadiseasa Rules

If the monk breaks any rule here he has to undergo a period of probation or displine after which, if he shows himself to be repentant, he may reinstated by a sangha of not less than twenty monks.

A few of these rules Takamoto had disdain for were:

Contact with a woman, including kissing or holding hands.

Requesting sexual favors from a woman, or telling her that she would benefit (i.e., spiritually) from having sex with the monk.

Building a hut without permission from the sangha, or building a hut that exceed 3 x 1.75 meters in size.

Having someone else build a hut for you without permission from the sangha, or exceeding 3 x 1.75 meters in size.

Rejecting well-grounded criticism, even after having been rebuked three times.
Takamoto had so planned on playing the monk card for his benefit and although he didn't want to build a hut, he didn't like being told he couldn't build one without permission. That's just how Takamoto rolled.

Aniyata Rules

The aniyata are two indefinite rules where a monk is accused of having committed an offence with a woman in a screened (enclosed) or private place by a lay person. It is indefinite because the final outcome depends on whether the monk acknowledges the offence. Benefit of the doubt is given to the monk unless there is over-riding evidence.

Takamoto told me about how he planned to hold hands with a certain nun and use his piety as a monk to call her a liar if she told anyone since he expected to be given the benefit of the doubt. At this point I questioned his commitment to monkhood out loud. Again, he told me how much he like kung fu.

Nissaggiya Pacittiya Rules

Keeping an extra robe for more than ten days after receiving a new one.
Sleeping in a separate place from any of his three robes.

Keeping an out-of-season robe for more than thirty days when one has expectation for a new robe.

Accepting a robe from the laity after asking two or more of them to pool their funds in order to buy a nicer robe (since this indicates an excess of desire)..
Making or accepting a blanket or rug fewer than six years after you last made or accepted one.

Carrying raw wool for more than 48 km.

Buying or selling goods.

Asking for a new bowl when your old bowl is not beyond repair.

Taking a medicine from storage for more than seven days.

Taking back a loaned robe out of anger.

Being separated from your robes for more than six nights if you are living in a dangerously distant village and need to separate yourself from your robes after the Rains Retreat.

If a robe was just about all Takamoto could have, he didn't see the problem with having a nice one and he definitely wanted a new bowl for with a new bowl came bragging rights among the brethern.

Also, their rules forbid the use of money, although this rule is nowadays not kept by all monks (wink, wink).

Pacittiya rules entailing confession

Accepting and eating food from a family living in a dangerous location, unless if the monk is sick.

The local people give food for the monks to eat. The problem for Takamoto is that the people from two villages away make better food than the village closest to him. Although he had heard of recent lion attacks to travelers, Takamoto still wanted them to bring him food so he pretended to be sick too often. This was very suspicious to all the other monks.

Takamoto had joined to become a kung fu expert and constantly feared being exposed for this less than desirable reason to be a monk and get kicked out forever.

Chinese Buddhist monks have been traditionally linked with the practice of the Chinese martial arts or Kung fu and monks are frequently important characters in martial arts films. This excited Takamoto but Wilde found it strange that Takamoto was not familiar with Bruce Lee.

This association is focused around the Shaolin Monastery. The Buddhist monk Bodhidharma, traditionally credited as the founder ofZen Buddhism in China, is also claimed to have introduced Kung fu to the country. This latter claim has however been a source of much controversy is much disputed in India.

Wilde told Takamoto that although he didn't care to become a Buddhist or well versed in kung fu, he thought llamas were great, so great in fact that Wilde told Takamoto of his own llama, Jerry. Wilde told Takamoto of many adventures involving his mischievous llama. Takamoto did not understand the llama reference so Wilde asked about the Dali Lama.

Takamoto: I have no clue what you are talking about, this lama.

Takamoto then told Wilde of how he liked to hide in various dimly light places around the monastery and frighten the other monks. It seemed as though Takamoto needed to get a lot of things off of his chest and Wilde enjoyed listening to other interesting people.

Wilde: Well, Takamoto, I have to go. We have an 11oclock appointment to meet our state representative and tour congress.

Takamoto: very well.

Wilde: We will probably grab a bite to eat tonight at Harry's, if you guys would like to join us.

Takamoto: if I can, then I will.

Wilde: so it's a promise?

Takamoto: no, that's not what I said grassjumper.

Wilde: grassjumper? You mean grasshopper?

Takamoto: If you prefer.

Wilde: See ya later this evening, hopefully.

Takamoto: peace out dawg. Until then.

p.s. i know that takamoto is a japanese name, not chinese, dont ask me about this, ask takamoto

When Pigs Fly

2007-10-22T13:37:00.000-05:00

Tuesday, August 07, 2007

Wilde again went to the Bronx to see the Yankees play hoping to see A-Rod's 500th homer. Alas, it was not to be on that night, but two nights later. Poor Wilde.

Wilde made an open invitation to everyone on the jobsite to go to the game. About 16 of his closest jobsite friends accepted the invitation and joined him at the ball park.

Most of the guys that attended the game with Wilde were relatively young with the exception of Don. Don, a 68 year old spitfire was never one to miss the opportunity to enjoy the festivities of going to the big city.

Don was an old country boy that grew up raising horses in Randolph County Alabama. Don had been a close friend of Burt Reynolds, breaking horses for the Bandit. Wilde believed that Don got his wild streak from hanging with Burt back in the 1970's.

Recently, Don had been included in many activities the younger guys engaged in, including sky diving for Tyler's birthday. About a week before the ball game, the young crew, minus Wilde had taken Don into the city to a hip hop night club they frequented.

Don didnt go anywhere without his cowboy hat placed securely on his head. Once he got into the night club he began receiving riducle from other nightclubbers for his attire. Suffice it to say, the old man was not about to take any lip from a bunch of hippity hop kids so he pulled his knife out of his pocket and threatened to "slit their throats". Subsequently he was "thrown out" of the establishment.

The skinny old man who was usually very mild mannered could definitely be a handful if he had a beer or three so Wilde was concerned that similar behavior at the ball park could potentially be concluded with a few mishaps, but there was no talking with Don. He knew what he was doing, he was raised up with the Burt Reynolds, the old pigskin captain from Florida State for pete's sake.

Just to be safe, Wilde secured tickets for Don and most the crew about four rows behind where he was sitting. This was a good idea. No problems, and then Wilde felt something hit him in the back. It was a peanut. Wilde looked back and saw old Don laughly uncontrollably. Wilde smiled and turned back around to watch the game. The Yankees were playing the White Sox and the yanks were beginning to run away with the game and A-Rod was up to bat.

On the same row with Don sat a few White Sox fans who were loudly shouting their disdain for all things Yankee. The Yankee fans begain to stand up, point and chant "wrong house" to the disorderly Sox fan. A tussle ensued. Don, now the purveyor of peace settled the crowd down with a loud redneck two hands in mouth whistle. He was everyone's hero, for the moment. The police officer who walked up the steps was even smiling at Don.

It wasnt long until the opposing fans were at it again. One of them bumped into Don causing him to spill his 8 dollar cup of beer. Don was not pleased and had a few choice words for the bumper. To make a long story short, Don pulled his knife out from his boot where he had tucked it away in hiding and waved the knife in the air.

This did not go over well and Don was of course removed from the ball park. He wound up spending the night in jail at the bronx precint near the stadium. Two days later Wilde asked Don what had happened. Don didnt remember the details but he said that those new yorkers told him although they had never been to Alabama, he was alright.

Wilde told Don that he was just going to have to start leaving his knife at home.

Wilde: "What if you had wound up stabbing that guy Don?"

Don: "So, it wouldnt have killed him and it would have shut him up."

Wilde: "Don, how'd you even get the knife in the stadium?"

Don: "it wasnt hard, i put it in my boot and told the security people that the boots were steel toed."

Don asked Wilde when they were going to go to another game and Wilde told him "when pigs fly". Don responded knowing fully well how much of a fan of Burt Reynolds Wilde was, "Dont expect an invite to meet the Bandit when he comes to town then".

Wilde was crushed.....

unopportune timing

2007-10-22T13:36:00.000-05:00

Friday, August 24, 2007

Wilde stated an observation that he had made over his short life to his dear wife. "Honey, have you ever noticed how things happen at an exact unconvenient time? For instance as we drive down this street, the traffic light will change when we approach it forcing me to decide between running the yellow light or slamming on the brakes."

"when you come to a stop sign on a sleepy street in the late a.m., you'll have to wait on a car before you can go. There was no car for an hour before you get to the sign and there will be no car for an hour after you pass the street, but for some reason when you approach, a car will come along and require you to wait."

"Most of my observations in this regard have a common theme. There is always a car involved. At night when i pass under street lights while driving, they very often flicker and go out. They dont go out when i see them down the road, they go out at the precise moment i travel under them. I find these types of occurrences quite peculiar."

So yesterday r.wilde took the opportunity to mow the law before the stifling heat set in. Wilde noticed another similiar observation.

Wilde pushed the mower to the back yard as he finished the lawn. He walked back around the gate to move the hose when he noticed a tiny deer. It still had its spots. Man oh man did it look like Bambi only it wasnt talking and there was no forest fire to speak of.

Wilde rushed to the back door, demanding that Larae come see the critter. She came out and they slowly walked around the house, but the deer had moved. As they peered back around the front of the house a car started up the hill coming in the direction toward Wilde's home. The baby deer who was only about knee high jumped when she heard the sound of the rumbling engine.

"Didja see how high she jumped?" Wilde asked, "that woulda been over my head!"

Just then when the vehicle was about to pass by the house, the deer darted in front of the car. The driver slammed on his brakes and looked over at Wilde.

Wilde put his arms up and shrugged his shoulders as to imply "dont look at me, thats not my deer or anything".

The deer dashed to the neighbor's house across the street and slammed head first into their privacy fence. The driver and Wilde looked at each other in utter amazement and ran to check on the deer.

The driver motioned to Wilde that he was deaf. They communicated pretty well considering their circumstances. The deer bounced back up and was gone. They chased him through a neighbor's lot, but were disappointed to come up empty handed.

The driver made hand motions and spoke in muted tones to tell Wilde that this was the second deer he had almost hit this morning. Both were close calls. Wilde waved goodbye and the driver gave him the thumbs up as he got back in his car that had been parked in the middle of th road and drove off.

As Wilde relayed the story to Larae, she expressed sentiment for the deer (running into a wall; no mommy deer; etc...) and the driver.

"Why didja feel bad for the driver? he didnt actually hit the deer or anything."

"i dunno", she stated.

"was it cause he's deaf?"

She didnt say anything.

"I wouldnt feel sorry for him, he had a tribal tattoo on his arms and was smoking a cigar. I am sure he has friends."

She erupted in laughter. "thats sounds like something you'd say. you're so stupid!" More laughter ensued.

"wanna know the odd thing though Larae? That deer could have run across the street a minute or two before or after he drove by, but its like i was telling you, this stuff happens unexpectedly at the most unopportune times. crazy...."

"doesnt make any sense", she said.

"thats what ive been trying to tell you!"

"no, i mean you. you dont make any sense."

"maybe i dont, but at least i'm not a girl!" And Wilde stormed off. he didnt speak narry a peep for the rest of the day, except to say "woman! whats for lunch?"

.....

am i the only one that notices this kind of stuff? its the stuff lives made of...for me anyway. I guess its part of the test, maybe has something to do with patience. Go figure.

Brantley

2007-10-22T13:31:00.000-05:00

Thursday, August 09, 2007

Brantley - On The Road

Brantley had divided most of his young adult life roaming around the vast American landscape and life at home with his friends. Faced with a changing post war modern world, he sought to find his place, but eventually came to reject alot of the social norms. His heart's music often reflected a desire to break free from society's structure and to find a higher meaning to life.

This search led Brantley to experiment with different things that shall remain undisclosed and to embark on trips around the world. His favorite mode of travel was by train. He always fancied hoping in a box car and riding the rails, but sometimes he did pay for a ticket. His travels took him many places and he gathered many fascinating stories.

One such story found our dear Brantley walking down what must have felt like an endless highway. As he approached what appeared to be a ghost town of sorts in a western state that didnt matter, Brantley began to notice snakes laying all over the road.

Terrified of snakes, Brantley studied the situation for a short time and even tossed a few rocks toward the general vicinity of the aforementioned snakes. They remained undisturbed. They were soaking up the sun and didnt care one way or the other about a passer-by. Brantley continued his journey, hopping over the snakes one by one.

He had not traveled far past the snakes. The town was in the distance, probably a good mile away and Brantley noticed a single car traversing toward him. Its not a big deal to see a lone car passing down the highway, but this car had its headlights on and then strobes mounted on the roof of the car began to flicker blue.

The police officer stopped the car beside Brantley and began to question what Brantley was doing walking. Brantley told the officer of his intentions and the officer cut him off.

Officer: "I'll tell you what you do, son. What you do is this, turn around and keep walking in the other direction. We dont need people like you coming around here starting trouble."

Brantley began to lose heart.

Brantley: "Sir, I dont want any trouble but i figured i go into town and at least get some food and definitely refill my water pouch."

Officer: "thats a big negative boy. Nothing to eat here, go back the other way."

So Brantley had no other options. He turned back around and hadnt gotten very far when another car slowed down beside him. It was a kindly lady in her mid forties named Brenda.

Brenda: "hey there honey. its mighty hot out. Do you need a ride? where ya going?"

Brantley: "i dont really have a destination. i'm just out here seeing the country, but i'd love a ride. it doesnt matter where to."

Brenda picked Brantley up and road on down the highway.

As Brenda and Brantley flew down the highway, she began to talk a mile a minute. She told Brantley about her kids and how they liked to meet new and interesting people."

Brantley didnt say much. He didnt really get a chance to add much to the dialogue of the conversation.

Brenda veered off the highway and onto a poorly paved tar and gravel road that soon turned into a dirt path, obviously traveled by only a few cars. Dust rose high in the distance as they speed forth. They stopped at a little makeshift trailer house along the way. The home was a converted trailer with a newly modified roof and a what appeared to be an added on den.

Brenda: "this is my home. come in and meet my family. we'll get ya something to eat if you like. you can sit a spell and then be on your way. i gotta head back to town in an hour and i'll take you back to the highway."

Brantley walked into the dimly lit home and found a seat on the worn out couch. It smelled of pet dander. Brenda went about her business and her kids and pets all peaked in to see this traveler. Brenda had a four year old daughter that must have asked Brantley a thousand questions.

Brenda's younger boyfriend came home after about an hour. He threw open the screen door and skipped into the den. His name was Mike.

Mike: "WHERE'S THE HIPPIE?!!!!"

Mike almost leaped into Brantley's lap. Mikes erratic behavior definitely frightened Brantley a little.

Mike: "stay right here Hippie, i wanna show you something."

Mike ran off to the back bedroom. Brantley heard all kinds of shuffling and the sounds of throwing things about, then he heard what sounded like a shotgun being shucked.

Brenda was in the room with Mike. Brantley could scarcely make out what the couple was saying.

Brenda: "MIKE, NO! dont go and scare him."

That was all Brantley needed to hear. He slipped out the back door and jogged down the dirt road. Of course the 12 dogs laying in the shade of broken down cars got up and began following him and barking quite loudly.

Brantley wasnt sure where he'd go, but he knew he didnt want to stay one minute longer at the place he just left.

The road went no where. Brantley only had one choice really, he had to turn back around and go out the way he came. He sat down on a little rocky hilly spot along side the path and rested for about an hour, but he knew he had to get started soon because it was already late in the afternoon. Dusk was fast approaching.

A little later, as he walked back past Brenda's home he was a bit relieved to find that the cars were gone and no one appeared to be there. Almost back to the highway a truck pulled onto the dirt road. It was Mike and Brenda.

They came to a screeching stop and Mike hopped out.

Mike: "why'd you run off hippie?"

Brantley: "i dont know."

Mike: "course you do. youre a thief and you were looking for something to steal. good thing i came home hippie. no telling what you might've made off with. GET IN THE TRUCK."

Mike put his big hand on Brantley's shoulder and shoved him toward the truck. Brantley hesitated, but did get into Mike's truck. Brenda was giggling. Brantley was rather nervous.

Mike: " i was kidding around buddy. i didnt think you were a thief.

Mike passed a half smoked joint to Brantley as they drove back to Brenda's.

Brantley: "no thanks man. i'm cool."

Mike: "what? i thought all hippies smoked weed man."

Brantley: "i'm not really a hippie man. i just wanted to see the country."

Mike: "Brenda, can you believe you picked up a hippie that said no to weed?"

Back at Brenda's.

Mike: "look dude, i've got something i need you to help me do, then i'll take you where ever you want to go. heck, i'll go to."

end of installment number one....

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Brantley Sweats the Small Stuff, All the Stuff

installment number two:

Mike, Brenda and Brantley made it back to the trailer as the sun set behind the range of mountains to the east.

Brantley wondered what exactly what kind of help Mike was going to require of him to grant his freedom.

As they walked in the front door an older gentleman was sitting on the couch facing the television set. He was an indian chief in his early sixties. He never really had his own tribe to be chief over to speak of, but his father and grandfather and so on had been great men, all chiefs. And so was he.

His name was Chief Squinting Bear. His name fit him. (Why would i say that? he squinted as he watched the tube as David Justice swung and missed on a ball that was just a wee bit outside and he was not only a large man but a very hairy one to boot!)

As Mike and Brenda walked to the back room, Brantley sat on the couch next to Chief Squinting Bear. The Chief was watching the Atlanta Braves pound the Cincinnati Reds to the ground. "They have the best pitchers in all of baseball", said the Chief.

"Wow, they show the Braves out here in the West too, huh?" commented Brantley.

"You a friend of Mike's?", inquired the Chief.

"I wouldnt say that."

"No?" said the Chief.

"To be honest with you, Mike said I had to help him do something before he'd let me go."

"Why you no run away?"

"I tried."

"What does Mike want you should do to help him?"

"He still hasnt told me, but i have a bad feeling."

Mike re-entered the room. "i see you met my dad. he is going to watch you so you dont run off. i gotta check on something and i'll be back shortly" Mike growled.

"You're his dad?" Brantley asked the Chief.

"I adopted Mike when he was eleven. He needed someone. He had no one and he was this frightened child. When i brought him home, every noise made him jump. We gave him his own indian name, Scared Dog."

Brantley and the Chief talked on for quite some time. He was a Souix indian. His people were all but gone. Most of the time he felt lonely, but he was glad to make this new acquaintence.

Brantley explained to the Chief how and why he had traveled from where he began ending up here. The more he talked, the more the Chief asked.

The Chief didnt just asked questions, he talked about himself too. The Chief had converted to Christianity twelve years go. He spoke openly of how he made Jesus Christ his savior and how he still practiced many indian worship rituals. Instead of worshipping the eagle or the sun, he sought counsel from almighty God.

The Chief told Brantley that he had been planning on leaving for a few hourswhen he and Mike had arrived earlier. He asked Brantley to come with him. It was dark out. Brantley couldnt see his hand in front of his face. he had no idea where the Chief wanted to go, heck he barely knew the Chief. Could he trust him? It didnt matter now though.

As they walked along the same trail that Brantley had run down earlier while attempting to flee from Mike, Brantley felt a calm wash over his body from his head to his toes. "Chief, i cant see where we are going."

"neither can i", said the Chief, "ha ha."

"The funny thing though Chief is that i dont care."

"you dont care or you arent scared?"

"i'm not really scared and i dont care, odd huh?"

"not so much, ive been praying for peace all day. Looks like it found us."

After they walked for what seemed like hours, they stopped at a fork in the beaten path next to a dried up creek bed. The Chief picked up two sticks and started tapping them together. "wooooo wooooo", cried the Chief.

Two more indian fellows stepped out of the darkness from behind a couple of small trees and advanced toward the pair. "Yah te hay", they exclaimed.

"Yah te hay", the Chief said.

"what does that mean and who are they?" Brantley whispered.

"These are my brother and it means greetings, both hello and goodbye.

They four of them exchanged hand shakes and they walked toward where several Teepees were set up. There was one smaller dome shaped tent out by itself.

"Brantley, i know why you are here, you seek answers. Much like many people fast to cleanse the body and put their spiritual needs before their physical needs, we will go into this sweat lodge to clean out the impurities and meet with the Great Spirit. He will give you answers so you can go home."

As Brantley reflected on how the past few days had turned out and where it could take him once Mike cashed in on that favor, he thought "what the heck."

"how long do we stay in the tent and sweat it out?", asked Brantley.

"As long as it takes", one of the indian brothers spouted.

"this could take a long time huh?"

"it should and probably will", said the Chief.

"Its kinda like getting in a sauna at the ymca", joked Brantley.

Very serious now, the Chief told Brantley "there are both spiritual and medicinal benefits to the sweat lodge. Its encourages camaraderie, sharing and growing together, but without a spiritual leader, its not an indian sweat."

"thats were you come in right?" asked Brantley.

"yes and do not think this is a coincidence that you are here. we have prepared for this day for two weeks although we didnt know you'd be here."

The domed tent sweat lodge was buried in three feet of creek sand. A blazing fire was roaring a few feet from the sweat tent and hot rocks were shoveled into the tent while the four of them sat covered by a sacred indian garment that covered them as only some kind of loin clothe could.

One of the men poured some kind of brew over the stones. The sound of steaming hisses and spattering filled the darkness and they all began praying. All of them except Brantley, he just listened. This praying was different from any praying he had heard before, these people just talked and invited the Great Spirit to make habitation with them. There was nothing formal about their prayers as they chanted.

"Who is this Great Spirit?" Brantley whispered.

"The Spirit of the Lord as referred in the Bible, friend. Holy Ghost, Holy Spirit, Great Spirit. We seek his counsel in our lives. Brantley, you dont have to say a word, but focus on the silence and listen to what God might say to you."

The chanting of prayers grew more and more intense and the men began singing. They sang and they sang. When one of them became too hot, he went outside. There was a stream on the other side of the tents parallel to the dried creek bed. They would dive into the stream and cool off and return to the sweat tent for more.

Brantley had never been one hundred percent sure that there was even a god, but he decided he would give it a try. It sounded cool. He earnestly tried to seek counsel. He prayed. The Chief would encourage Brantley from time to time. "be honest with God, Brantley. He knows already. He just wants you to become free from former entanglements. talk to him. tell him what you think, confess whatever is on your heart."

Brantley tried it with a sincere heart. He sat. He reflected on his life and he simply talked outloud. If there was a god, he'd hear this.

The Chief sang a new song, "You see the depths of our hearts and You love us the same. You are amazing God. Your creation reveals your majesty. every creature is unique in the song that it sings. You placed the stars in the sky and named each one. Who has told every lightning bolt where to go? You are indescribable and uncontainable, all powerful, untameable. Awestruck, we fall to our knees as we bodly proclaim, You are amazing God."

As Brantley focused on the words the Chief sang, he began to sing along. The hairs on the back of his neck started to stand on their ends. He felt faint, just a little bit dizzy and he envisioned......

next - installment number three

Wednesday, September 05, 2007

Brantley’s Vision

Brantley's vision or dream was about himself as an engineer on a train. This dream was unlike any other he had every had. It might not have had more significance than any other, but the detail was so vivid that he was sure he was on that train.

Brantley and R.Wilde of all people were riding in the locomotive looking out as they entered a new town. It wasnt a big town by any stretch of the imagination, but it seemed very important, a gateway to someplace more necessary maybe; the only way to the destination perhaps.

Several trains were on intersecting tracks that eventually all ran parallel to the track Brantely's train traveled as they sped toward a not too distant mountain on up ahead. They could see that the tracks on this mountain had to be at a 70 degree incline. Impossible, the thing dreams are made of. No track could be that steep. It would prove to be an incredibly daunting task to traverse that rise.

As the trains came together, all the tracks merged. The tracks were elevated on a dirt mound raising them high above the flood plain; the way became narrow. The distance on the left side of the tracks was equal to the width of the train plus a foot or two.

Brantley and Wilde looked down and stared as the ground rushed past. The gravels between the timbers under the tracks got higher and higher filling the tracks to the brim. Strange. The train then, for whatever reason derailed.

Not sure how one would even begin to steer a train, Brantley did everything in his power to correct the path of the train and get it back on track. It began losing speed but never actually wrecked when it derailed, although the two were in great fear that it would.

Brantely got the train back on tracks just as another train came speeding past on the left. It had derailed as well and it crashed down the side of the elevated path and into a deep ravine.

Up the steep mountain the train traveled. The speed had declined greatly and the train never made it completely up the mountain. Most of the cars did get to the top as three quarters of the train leveled out and came to a halt. Brantley noticed that it was still not completly on track and called for some help.

As the vision or dream or whatever it was faded, Brantley saw the Chief. There were three of him and they were all spinning. Brantley had become severely dehydrated while sweating it out in the tent. The Chief called it purification.

The Chief and Brantley left the tent, drank plenty of water and slept the rest of the day. As they hiked back to trailer, they noticed the sheriff was parked out front.

The sheriff met them and explained why he was there and what had happened. That favor that Mike had planned for Brantley had gone array. Mike had apparently lost patience waiting on Brantley and decided he didnt need help for his plan. He and Brenda had attempted a heist at the local hayseed farmers and merchants bank down the way. Unfortunately for Mike, there was a trigger happy teller there to meet him. Brenda was being held in custody until her trial.

The sheriff drove off a few minutes later, while Brantley stood there speechless, the Chief begain to talk.

Chief: "i didnt get a chance to tell you Brantley, but i had a vision too. I saw Mike in a funeral parlor all laid out there in his Sunday best, but there were no mourners there wailing, not a soul ceptin me."

The Chief turned and walked inside the trailer. Brantley obviously didnt know what to say so he decided the lest he could do was to stay a spell and make sure the Chief was ok. Mike had been his son for pete's sake.

Brantley was beginning to get the itch. He needed to get away....for good.

Brantley didnt see the Chief much for the next four days, but the trailer reeked of whiskey and urine. Brantley found things outside to keep him busy. He began to tinker around with that old fifties model ford pickup sitting behind the trailer. It appeared to be useless except for the shade it provided to the mangy dogs that hung around.

On that fourth day as Brantley was knee deep in the hood of that old truck, the Chief came out and whistled at Brantley.

Chief: "come on, i want you to go with me someplace."

They climbed in the Chief's car and as they rode down the highway the Chief explained to Brantley that he owned a string of self serve car wash shops in the greater area. They had to make a few stops, check the suds, and make a deposit. He also told Brantley that he had been a fall down drunk, an embarrassment to his people for almost 13 years now to the day his wife had passed away. Brantley didnt know the Chief had been married.

The Chief had been having lots of visions as of late. He was scared he was running out of time. He wept for not being able to save Mike from his own destructive nature. His visions were about judgement to come.

Chief: "i know i sound crazy, but what if any of its true. i met an old preacher man few years back; we have coffee a couple times a week. He claims to be a man who works in prophecy like Jeremiah or Isaiah. A gifting he calls it. He claims to have seen visions of the calamity already passed. Says he can prove it. There are bunch of men like him and they are predicting some awful things to come."

Brantley didnt interupt, he just kept listening.

Chief: "Brantley, normally i wouldnt so much as balk at the notion of all this, but i've been dreaming lots of dreams. I had a dream that someone called the home phone screaming for help. When i asked what kind of help, they replied to hurry up, the antichrist is coming quickly, hurry, help."

Brantley thought of his own dream that was so real and still fresh on his mind. what did it mean? getting off track? needing to call for help? he pondered on a bit and still, he listened intently to the Chief.

Chief: "and Brantley, you gotta know, i am telling the truth just as sure as i am a standing here next to ya. I saw Mike laid up in that parlor just as sure as shooting. I dont know what to do next. oh, if you coulda seen him lying there, if you hada heard that woman screaming on the phone Brantley."

Brantley had chill bumps come up on his neck. he wasnt sure what to make of all this yet. Maybe it'd come to him. Maybe he'd just leave......

Tuesday Ramblings

2007-10-16T21:08:00.001-05:00

woke up early and caught the red eye to new york. I slept the entire flight.

i had to meet with one of our framing subcontractors today, talk about a headache. to start with, you should know that all subcontractors are liars but none more than a framer. i hope tomorrow goes better and that i dont wind up running folks off the project.

other than dealing with the ultimate fibbers, i have had a great day. the weather is beautiful. I think the temperature got up to 70 degrees, nice.

i've had dinner and spent my time on the old treadmill and find myself watching espn-u and reading about football, auburn primarily. i could be doing worse things i imagine.

i miss my wife and little boy. he is a freaking amazing kid by the way. Anyway, they are at my in-laws. They frequently stay at her parents when i travel and i thought about my father in-law.

he likes to watch Meerkat Manor. DW was telling me about a funny conversation they had the other day when she got there. i wrote a blog a few months ago about them watching that show.

Flowers was the mother/head of that tribe of Meerkats. She was biten by a snake on the head. Aparently if the meerkat had been struck anywhere on the body save for the head blow, she could have recovered. As it is she died and another one of the females took over.

While they were out hunting, insects took over their dwellings. Yeah i know, it sounds horrible, right? All Mr.K could manage to say was that if Flowers were still alive, she wouldnt have let it happen.

i guess you had to have heard it, but we found it to be quite funny. he is like that, a dry humor type of guy and he loved Flowers. She got down to business and handled every situation with an iron fisted grace.

Theres not a whole heck of a lot going on as i type this at a quarter past nine in p.m.

The only headlines that stick out in today's news is that Putin is trying to put the smack down in the Caspian Sea region as it concerns oil, iran and any third power country (U.S.) and that Ellen Degeneres has been sobbing about some dog she gave away that was confiscated.

I did have an nice conversation with a pastor that works as a plumber on our projects, a delightful fellow. We discussed spiritual things obviously and i was pleased to find that we shared the same views on various topics.

I am looking forward to flying home thursday night. On friday, the wife and I are going to the comedy club to see the illustrious SinBad or Sinbad depending on where you hail.

Let it ride easy down the road.

i wanna see you tonight dancing in the endless moonlight.

Let it rock me in the arms of angels. Let it ride, Let it roll.

Love,

R

Initial Comments from the God Delusion Debate

2007-10-16T21:05:00.000-05:00

I have listened to most of the God Delusion Debate between Dawkins and Lennox although the format was not so conducive for a true and lively debate. I still have about 20 minutes left.

I had a buddy record it for me on my little digital recording device that comes in quite handy. I imagine it would be amusing if you saw me driving down the interstate with this little device held up to my ear.

Dawkin's book is really just an open criticism of religion. That's fine, but his arguments against the possibility of God are not really based on science or any supporting philosophical reasonings even though he asserts them as facts.

One of the more interesting topics discussed during this "debate" was about beginnings.

Dawkins stated that he doesn't believe in an eternal God. He wants to know who or what created the creator if there was in fact one. The thought of an eternal entity is beyond him.

But Lennox pointed out that what the atheist has no problem with, is believing in a universe that would have to be eternal. It either always has been (matter somewhere doing something) or it had to be created (ala Big Bang), but then what would have been here pre-existing that beginning to give the universe it's beginning. We have no concrete evidence of how it, the universe came to be. Matter and atoms had to come from somewhere. It could not have just "been" from pure nothingness.

Either way, both sides fill the gaps with their own brand of faith and then it winds up being a semantical discussion.

Another one of Dawkins arguments against the existence of God was an attack against the validity of miracles.

For someone to tell me that they don't believe in miracles because miracles defy laws of physics, would warrant the response in line with Lennox's thinking, what else do we have the faith to believe in that isn't constrained or measured or explained by science?

What can science effectively tell us about love or thought processes?

What are we, if not thinkers? How does a scientist measure what a thought is or from where it stems that is deeper than electrons bumping around in our brain matter? What on the subconscious level can we see and touch and further postulate concretely?

I can say that my love for someone is based on faith that is evidenced in action or inaction just as easily as I can affirm that I see a creator's hand in his creation. I dare not call this a "blind faith" and no one can take the faith I have in love away based on scientific evidence or lack thereof.

NOTE: I want to get into Dawkins comments that we are nothing more than accidental evolutionary matter dancing to the tune of our DNA, but I don't have the time right now.

I inserted this above mentioned noted to remind myself that it's something I would like to comment on later.

(debate was put on by http://www.fixed-point.org/ )

Mister Brick Washer Grocery Bag Feet

2007-09-25T14:05:00.000-05:00

May 22, 2007 - Tuesday

Mister Brick Washer Grocery Bag Feet

RW: Hello Mister Brick Washer guy, nice to see you today. I noticed that you have grocery bags for feet and that your pants are split down the side so I can tell you are a professional.

Mister Brick Washer Guy: No comprende and more gibberish that sounds like a mix of spanish, hungarian and japanese.

RW: Ummm, ok. Look buddy, I like you, so heres the deal. Use your safety fall protection harness correctly and tie off with your lanyard while you are working out of this aerial lift or I am going to throw you off the job. Got it?

Mister Brick Washer Guy: babble, babble, babble....babble, babble.

I could make out that he said he was ok, apparently he didnt want my help. No pal, you arent ok, the hydraulics on that particular type of lift could potentially catapult you out of the basket resulting in your serious injury or most likely, death. You need to listen to Uncle Rob and like a good boy, TIE OFF!

RW: Oh yeah, thats right. I dont speak gibberish. I took gibberish in the 12th grade, but it didnt stick...(now on radio) mr brick washer guy's foreman, come back...yeah buddy, come on over to the north side of building A, we need to chat.

There were no winners this day. Sure, technically I did win. He is gone and no longer presents a hazard on my jobsites, but I tell ya, we lost a good one. His contributions to the completion of this project will be missed. No one spoke gibberish more eloquently. . . no one was more fashionable, his trash bags for shoes idea was cutting edge and i will forever be affected.

walk of shame

"its ok, they know me"

2007-09-25T14:02:00.000-05:00

May 29, 2007 - Tuesday

Aunt Marcine would call relentlessly. She was constantly worried that War was inevitable in these here United States, that someone had died or that Dana was in grave danger during her daily drive home in the peaceful valley we called home.

The year was 2002 and I had never met Dana's Aunt Marcine in a face to face visit. I did however have the frequent if not what seemed like hourly pleasure of speaking with her on the telephone.

The phone rings:

Robert: Hello

Marcine: Where's Dana?

Robert: Shopping with Vickie

Marcine: who died?

Robert: What?

Marcine: WHO died?

Robert: What are YOU talking about?

Marcine: Well you said they were at a funeral…

Robert: uh, no I didn't. I said that they were shopping.

Marcine: ok …click…

Again the phone rings:

Robert: Hello

Marcine: Where's Dana?

Robert: at work.

Marcine: Oh Lord, I hate that she is out on "that" road

Robert: ok

Marcine: click…

Another phone call:

Robert: Hello?

Marcine: Where's Dana

Marcine: oh Robby, there's gonna be a war in Birmingham!

Robert: What?! Why would you say that?

Marcine: The president is gonna be in Birmingham today, we are about to go to war!

Robert: ok

Marcine: Click…

Marcine never met a stranger. She would walk into the employee lounge at an establishment where she collected no paycheck and would pour herself not one, but two or three cups of coffee. When someone would comment on her behavior, she'd just reply, "oh, they know me".

In her mind, everyone in Anniston knew her. From what I had been told, her father had been an important man in Anniston years ago and she took all the teenagers to town in her new car for milkshakes….how could everyone not know her?

Marcine passed away in 2003 and to this day, when I walk in some place or do something in public that Dana thinks borders on intrusive, boarish and rude, I just smile and say, "its ok, they know me".

My Super Powers

2007-09-25T13:58:00.000-05:00

May 31, 2007 - Thursday

Powdered Toast Man

Some of you might have known this, but I feel it is important to build trust by building a firm foundation with honesty.

I have several superpowers. Don't be shocked or scared. I am just like you, but better.

My first and greatest superpower is that I have super powerful taste buds. I honestly consider this to be more of a curse than a blessing. I simply can't eat the slop that most of you common people eat. If food has even a teaspoon of mayonnaise as an ingredient, my super senses are heightened and I must do everything possible to avert consumption of this aforementioned devil's condiment.

Needless to say this superpower got me in a lot of trouble as a kid. I was called horrible and hurtful names like "picky". This curse, this "superpower" has now been passed to my boy, Jack Jack and yes, his mother is out to get him. It starts with the eating of "the green beans", but where will it stop?

My second superpower is that i have the uncanny ability to avoid food messes. What do you mean by food messes Robbo, you might say. Ok, for instance, I was at Johnny Ray's in Vestavia, engaged in stimulating conversation and patiently awaiting the delivery of a piece of their best lemon pie with cool whip topping to be placed on the table in front of me for consumption. As the waitress approached, she lost control of her tray launching the pie plate toward the vicinity of my lap.

I tell you people that something takes over and I become as agile as a cat, faster than a shooting bullet. I dodged that pie that day my friends and as the entire restaurant sat in utter amazement, I stood victorious. As I raised my arms in celebration the masses begin to carry me around on their shoulders and cry out my name to the rooftops. This was just one example, if I were to write about all these experiences, there wouldnt be enough bookcases in the entire world to contain all of these events.

And last, but certainly not least, I am the Powdered Toast Man. Nothing more needs to be said.

Maximillian's Rocks

2007-09-25T13:56:00.000-05:00

another r.wilde story - throwing rocks at babies

June 8, 2007 - Friday

Maximillian's Rocks

Chapter III

My father Maximillian Wilde collected rocks. He used the rocks he stockpiled to kill animals using a sling shot. He terrorized mostly turkeys. I hated his rock collection. What did those turkeys ever do to him I wondered. What if he hit a person and accidentally killed them. I was very uncomfortable with how consumed he was for rocks.

Some people have pocket knives on their person, but Max always had a pocket full of rocks. He felt superior to others and he always had a way to defend himself if need be.

Max had been close friends with Jimmy Carter as a youngster. They grew up together. There wasn't much to do in rural Georgia in the 1950's. Left to their own devices they determined to collect all the rocks in the world and change the global economy to one that was based on rocks. When that harebrained idea didn't float, they began using the rocks to hunt for sport. It started with bunnies, the neighborhood cats and escalated to big game in South Africa.

Max's consumption of all things rock left me wanting. I never knew my father very well, but I knew he loved rocks.

Jimmy Carter moved on and became the 39th President of the United States of America. It has often been rumored that Arafat and his Palestinian thugs didn't start chunking rocks at the Jews until old Jimmy and Arafat met to draw out a peace accord at Camp David (for the record, I am part Jew).

Chapters IV – VII have been skipped as to they were not relevant to catching the reader up to the crux of this particular story.

Chapter VIII

The neighbors that reside on both sides of my homestead have pools, granted above the ground, but pools none the less. The decks surrounding their pools are where they spend most of their free time.

Mister Baryshnikov, my neighbor on the left and his wife have between them at least seven kids and a brand new baby. This child was adorable, but he still had jaundice so they tried to keep him out side a good bit to get some sun. I see them outside and wave.

I was working ever so diligently to build a privacy fence. I have had the privilege to dig all over God's country but have yet to encounter an area with more rocks than my very own backyard. Rocks!

"My goodness at the rocks", I would constantly utter. I became very good at throwing these rocks. I picked up and threw rocks for what seemed like days on end. Max would have been particularly frazzled upon finding out how many rocks that I removed from the property.

On this particular day, my lovely wife's father, Mister K. came by to give a helping hand. You know it's bad, rockwise, when one has to borrow a TE 72 drill in a feeble attempt at breaking up these shallowly buried boulders.

Mister K. waltzed into the backyard and we decided that there was no better time to take a break than at that moment. It was hot. No. I would be incorrect to say it was hot. Hot doesn't even begin to describe the heat radiating from the sun as I watched my backyard turn slowly into a desert. I envisioned sand dunes. Sure Jack Jack could build a sand castle but what would I do with all the kitty droppings (cats are known to scratch in sand)? You tell me.

I had a hand full of rocks when I started the trek back to my patio to meet my paw in law. "What am I carrying these rocks for?", so I chunk the four stones in my hand toward the vicinity of the woods boarding my lot. One, two, three, I counted as I watched them glide into oblivion. "BAM!" I heard a thud as I looked for the fourth rock. I never saw it land.

My neighbors who were melting as they collected these sun rays on their skin like stickers sat up from their slumber and began to look around. Mister Baryshnikov walked to the corner of his deck next to his new born child lying in his baby seat and picked up a rock. He scratched his head. They all began to scratch their heads. I began to scratch my head. I was hiding in my patio dying of embarrassment.

You see, I tossed those four rocks underhanded. Yeah, that does seem girlish now that I have had time to think on throwing rocks, but jeez, I was tired and just kind of flung them. To be really transparent with you my dear reader, I sometimes pitched the rocks underhanded like a softball pitcher. A good softball pitcher hurls that cowhide upwards of 65 miles per hour, don't ya know…

Anyway, that fourth stone didn't release until I had reached the top of my throwing motion. In other words, it went backwards sailing toward this lovely family and their newborn.

I became panicked. You don't just throw rocks at babies and act like you are still a stud. You see if you throw rocks at babies, you are a bad person. Does it matter if it was an accident or not? No, I will go ahead and answer this one for you, nay, one million times, no!

As I hid in the patio, my father in law quickly hid too. "Rob, what are we hiding for?" he asked. Before Mister K. arrived at our house, he had passed a State Trooper. Mister K. might have been going a few miles per hour over the state regulated speed limit and for all he knew the fuzz had followed him to our house. We were hiding.

"I think that one of those rocks I just threw almost hit that kid." "What should I do?" We hem hawed back and forth for a few minutes and decided democratically that the only option I had was to walk over there and fess up.

I felt like throwing up buckets. That deck was full of people and I almost hit a baby with a rock. Now I am always going to be known in my neighborhood as the guy who throws rocks at babies.

"Hey y'all" I said sheepishly. They smiled back; you see they were still scratching their heads. They didn't want to believe that they lived next door to a rock thrower. Who was I, Earnest T. Bass? They wanted to believe that rock fell from the sky. I could have let them keep believing that, but in our heart of hearts, we all knew the truth.

I explained the situation and apologized relentlessly. We took over baby shower gifts and killed them with kindness. It's a year later and the incident appears to gone the way of water under a bridge, but I still have to live with this awful feeling in my gut and the guilt that never leaves every time I look in the mirror and see myself for who I really am….a guy who throws rocks at babies.

It is quite interesting how my father's obsession almost became my demise. I pronounced last year as the death of innocence. My father wished he could carry the burden of my self punishment.

I concluded that the best thing for me and for those around me was to want nothing, to be enthusiastic about nothing, to be unmotivated as possible, in fact, so that I would never again almost hurt anyone.

Thus ends Chapter VIII and the story of Rob Wilde and His father Maximillian.

Accent - uate the positive

2007-09-25T13:54:00.000-05:00

June 20, 2007 - Wednesday

Accent - uate the positive

So I was in the airport in Philly standing in the security line when I noticed the lady in front of me who was weighed down with the necessities required for a long trip, dropped her ticket.

"Excuse me ma'am, I believe you dropped this".

A bit startled, she turned to me and said, "oh, thank you".

"No worries, that's just the kinda guy I am".

"Where are you from?" she inquired.

"South of the Mason Dixon line, if you please".

"Well don't worry, people have told me that my accent sounds dumb too", this brass lady exclaimed.

What in the world is going on? I just assisted this lady in the retrieval of her ticket without which she would have been up a creek with no paddle and she informs me inadvertently and with a smile that I sound "dumb".

I've been traveling to the land of the Yankees several times a month for the past five years and this kind of thing happens all the time. People speak before contemplating how rude they may be perceived. But even still, I am told that my accent is charming and sounds lovely more than the opposite.

I decided that I would change my response to such inquiries concerning my whereabouts and have a little fun with it.

For example, week before last I was in New Haven, Connecticut at a local restaurant when the server asked me for the one billionth time, "where are you from?".

Without hesitation or smirk, I glanced up demanding eye contact and stated boastfully, "I was born and raised here in Connecticut. Why do you ask?"

Are you staring at my feet?

2007-09-25T13:48:00.000-05:00

June 27, 2007 - Wednesday

Selections from R.Wilde, chapter 173
(leaving on a jet plane)

"Wifey, i am about to leave. do you wanna get up and walk me out?"

:yawn: "yeah, i'm up. are you all packed?"

"I did it last night."

"What time is your flight?" she asked.

"six thirty. here, carry this to the car for me my hands are full".

"you could just make two trips ya know" she said with a smirk.

"love you doll, kiss jeffy for me, will ya?"

I arrived at the airport in plenty of time to beat the long security lines. This by the way isnt typical. It takes me forty minutes or so from the time i leave my house until i can be walking in through the revolving doors at airport and i am usually running. i get in the security line and wait. This game can take for what seems like an eternity when you are pressed for time catching a flight. Your serve mister Transportation Security Administration guy, your serve.

"why do we call it an airport? why not an air station and a train port instead? i would suppose it has something to do with the nature in which many planes are parked at one time planing and de-planing passengers wheras you think of trains coming into a station one at a time and promptly leaving before another arrives. But this isnt necessarily the case, Grand Central Station has sixty seven tracks besides Grand Central's official name is Grand Central Terminal. Why does this guy keep looking back?" i wondered.

"Hello, jeez a lou. You wouldn't think there be this many people at the airport on a Tuesday morning, would ya?" he blurted out to only me although there were plenty of other strangers in line to converse with at five something in the morning.

"Yeah buddy. Crazy huh? Yeah, i fly out of here most Tuesdays. The lines are usually longer. I guess people do like me and work in the office on Monday and then fly the middle of the week. Who knows really?"

Finally, i am through the security line. "If they dont make you feel like a criminal going through that line, i dont know what. i get so tired of having to get out my laptop, take off my shoes, put my cell phone in the bin and on and on", i think.

"what gate, what gate? lets see, ah, there it is. Excuse me sir, are there any exit row seat available?" i inquired of the friendly gate agent.

"yes, may i see your ticket?

A few minutes later i decided to walk over and look out the window to check if the plane has arrived. There were four planes sitting, waiting, yearning for passengers. Well i dont know if they were yearning so much. I can never tell which one it is. There is no logic to it or if there is, that logic changes on a weekly basis. I walked away the window and back to my seat none the wiser. I noticed a lady had looked up at me a few times as i looked at the planes.

"is our plane here?" she wanted to know.

"oh yeah, its that one" I actually pointed to one. I wondered when we got on a different plane a few minutes later if she thought ill of me later for misguiding her. I cant worry about that now. i gotta hurry up and get on the plane to ensure i claim adequate space in the overhead bins, im a bit of a space hog if you will.

There were only nine people on the entire plane. I have only encountered this low number of people on my flights a hand full of times. Typically the airline sells more seats than are actually available. They overbook like this because more times than not someone is going to be a no show. This practice is very very inconvenient when you are flying from the New York and Atlanta airports due to the fact that its not uncommon to have your flight canceled for some obscure reason.

I fly to NY and through Atlanta quite often, in fact i once sat locked inside the plane stuck on the jetway at Laguardia for five hours and dont you know there was a baby screaming its head off. I cant say that i blamed the child one bit.

As we take off, the flight attendant walks over to my seat to address me. "Sir, are you aware that you are sitting in an exit row?"

"Who, me?" i asked as i looked from side to side. "Exit row? whats this all about?"

Needless to say she got rather aggravated with my joking around. Flight attendants can be very serious people and they should be i guess. Its funny really, how they all differ. What one laughs at the other chews you out for.

She handed me the emergency brochure found in the seat back pocket in front of me. I smiled. "Sir, are you willing and able to assist in the event of an emergency?"

"To help you do what? Will i be reimbursed for my time?" i asked. I thought she was going to kick me off the plane at this point.

As i perused the brocure for the one millionth time, i became quite entertained with one particular portion.

i noticed the little man embracing what appears to be the seat cushion. it is indeed the seat cushion my tush is resting on. My mind drifts off about how unhappy i would be in the event of a water landing and picturing myself holding onto this cushion with my feeting dangling in the water as shark bait. That cushion wouldnt be much help i thought.

Then i realized how silly that was. if we really crashed, especially in water, the chances that the plane and everyone on it not being ripped to shreds was highly unlikely. silly me.

The flight attendant announced that she would begin serving the snack and beverage service starting with the front of the cabin.

i was located in the middle of the cabin. I flagged her down. "Miss, i am ready for my in flight snack now" i report.

when she finally came back around to me i asked for not only an orange juice and a pack of crackers, but the entire can of juice and a bottle of water to boot. She complied.

"Marvelous, you are doing a good job", i told her as she handed me the snacks.

"This is a nice spread" i said to myself, "even if i do say so".

i was ready to take a quick nap. i kicked my boots off and covered up with a blanket.

There was a lady across the aisle. I couldnt take it any longer, i had to say something to her.

"Are you looking at my feet?"

"Pardon me?"

"Are YOU looking at my feet? If you are going to look at them then look at them, but for pete's sake quit being such a sneak about it. Jeez!"

About that time she rang her flight attendant call button. As the flight attendant approached her she exclaimed, "i want to move!"

The flight attendant peered around the entire empty cabin of the plane trying to make a point and said "ok, move to any other seat you like ma'am. will there be anything else?"

i cut my eyes at the lady and glanced at the flight attendant and made a gesture that indicated i felt the lady across the aisle was crazy. "she wouldnt quit looking at my feet. did she tell you that? i blurted out.

Sister Moon and Jimmy the Kangaroo

2007-09-25T13:14:00.001-05:00

July 2, 2007 - Monday

R.Wilde

[At R.'s father in law's home, outside discussing rain or the lack thereof]

Characters -

father in law - Ray Curvin

mother in law - Kitty Lynn

brother in law - Ross

wife - Larae

kid - Jefferson

Ray: "i do declare, this is quite possibly the driest spring i have ever seen."

R.: "we're in a drought for sure."

Ray: "Oh, it came a little rain earlier in the week, but its so daggum hot out that the sun just sucks it back up. See how my grass is dying here."

R.: "mines the same. good thing we arent under any water restrictions in my county. i spend all my free time watering the grass and the flowers. Aint that some kinda life?"

Ray: "i guess we are going to have to start doing a rain dance every afternoon. you still got your headress?"

R.: "nah, i traded it for an old pair of shoes with a secret zipper pocket."

Ray: you trading now? your starting to sound like Ross. That boy'll trade fer anything, ya know." See that old kangaroo down by the picnic table? he traded a penny runned over by a train and some old loose camel hairs fer it."

R.: "what in tarnation would someone be doing with camel hairs?"

Ray: "he knows a feller who uses them fer good luck, sells some too i think, along side his collection of rabbits foots."

R.: "makes sense i guess. thats a mighty sporty looking kangaroo aint it?"

Ray: "Kitty Lynn and i've been sitting on the porch swing in the evenings watching the squirrels play all around that kangaroo. They wont touch it though."

R.: "they dont know its fake?"

Ray: "i guess not, they seem pretty confused, yet very curious around it. one constantly stands guard watching its every move, course it dont move at all. Kitty Lynn asked me "do you think those squirrels have ever seen a kangaroo before?" and i said, "dear God I hope not!"

R.: "haha, thats a riot."

Ray: "we are in trouble if theres kangaroos out there and we dont know it.

R.: "you aint kidding. Has Jefferson seen it?"

Ray: "yeah, he saw it when Ross first brought it over. I think Ross was going to give it to him as a birthday gift.

R.: "no joking? a birthday gift?"

Ray: "Jefferson wont go down there close to it though. he said he dont trust it. i'll admit, its looks a mite scary, didja see how muscular it is?"

R.: "i'm gonna take him down there and make him look at it up close. its a flower pot for pete's sake. JEFFERSON! Come here son."

Jefferson: "hey daddy, whut you want?"

R.: "we're gonna walk down to see the kangaroo."

Jefferson: "Aww man!"

R.: "Shhh! Lets sneak up on him, ok?"

Jefferson: "Daddy, you are supposed to give kangaroos plenty of room if you walk up on one."

R.: "oh i know. did Ross tell you about this kangaroo?"

Jefferson: "no."

R.: "he didnt? he sure should have, i hear tell this particular kangaroo was around in brer rabbits time when all the animals left sister moon to come to the earth. anyway, the story goes that this kangaroo, Jimmy's his name i think, that Jimmy invented the first flash light and told sister moon not to come around no more, that he got tired of all her nagging. well, sister moon knew Mister Freeze from Batman and she had Jimmy frozen and here he stands today with his pouch used as a flower pot."

Jefferson: "Daddy, dats silly. Mister feeze is not reel."

R.: "thats what i thought too, but this story started making more sense when i saw Jimmy down here eating grass around 11pm one night."

Jefferson: "nuh uh, no you didnt daddy."

R.: "whose to say i aint telling the truth? What if i'm right and we is here sneaking up on old Jimmy, kinda scary huh? I always heard you cant sneak up on a kangaroo."

R: "go ahead, touch him."

R.: "careful dont feed him nothing, he might bite ya."

Jefferson: "daddy, he's not real."

Jefferson, not taking his eyes off of old Jimmy declared, the kangaroo's not real. R. instructed him not to disclose their conversation with his mother.

Back at the house, first thing, Jefferson told his mother about Sister Moon, Mister Freeze and Jimmy.

Nothing else for R. to do but tell the truth, "Larae, i have no clue what the kid is talking about" as he winked at Jefferson. He gives R. the double wink back and asks if they can go for ice cream.

R.: (speaking to Larae and the family) "happiness and harmony, thats what counts with children...(now mumbling) and kangaroos."

More friends than you can imagine

2007-09-25T13:10:00.000-05:00

a conversation

July 6, 2007 - Friday

"Jamison, i have written a new song"

"yeah?" asked jamison.

"i did."

"ok."

"Do you want me to sing it for you?"

"Sing what?" jamison said.

"the song i just wrote, man."

"Ok."

"ok?"

"yeah, ok." jamison stated in a defeated huff.

"nah, you dont act like you wanna hear it, ill just surprise you when you least expect it."

"i do want to hear. I want nothing more right this minute than to hear this song you wrote. i want to hear it and i want to hear it NOW!" jamison exclaimed.

"you say that now, but i mean, just five seconds ago you didnt. i read your body language. you're being a dufus."

"i'm not being a dufus, i have a splinter in my finger, JEEZ." jamison pouted.

"let me see it."

"no, you were going to sing the song."

"song?"

"yea, the song you wrote, remember?"

"it can wait. i need to see this splinter. i am calling your bluff."

"oh, i have a splinter, but it will be a cold day in hades before i show it to the likes of you." jamison said defiantly.

"thats what i thought."

"are you going to sing that song for me or what?"

"are you sure you want me to?"

"yes, for pete's sake, i wanna hear the song."

"i'll sing the song, but if your splinter is going to distract you, then i won't."

"dont sing it then, whatever."

"ok, ill sing it. [now singing] its the circle of liiiife. More friends than YOU can imagine. its the circle of life."

"stop. i have heard that before."

"no you havent i just wrote this song."

"i have heard that before. that candle in the wind guy sang that, but it didnt have the more friends part. More friends than you can imagine? what does that mean?"

"what do you mean, "what does that mean"?"

"how can you have more friends than you can imagine? is that more friends than i can image or more friends than you can imagine?"

"its subjective."

"i mean, i can imagine alot of friends."

"how many can YOU imagine?"

"alot".

"define alot, is that like forty?"

"no. forty is keeping it in the box, i can imagine an infinite number of friends."

"how?"

"how what? how can i imagine an infinite number of friends or how is that keeping it in the box?"

"the infinite part."

"i dont know. i just see a line of friends that never stops."

"what do their faces look like?"

"it doesnt matter."

"sure it does."

"well the line is so long that i cant imagine the faces til they get closer to me. the people in the back of the line are kinda blurry."

"i could imagine an infinite number of friends plus one."

"thats stupid."

"no its not, its mathematics. simple mathematics."

"why dont you go ahead and imagine infinity plus infinity then."

"now thats just crazy talk."

"you're right, that is crazy talk."

"no kidding."

"this whole conversation is ridiculous."

"dont say such hurtful things, its makes for a rather unpleasant conversation. Besides, imagining lots of friends isnt crazy, its nice. If everyone imagined more friends than they could imagine, everybody would be friends and we wouldnt have wars and murders and telemarketers."

"maybe."

"have you ordered your scooter yet?"

"we should really discuss that at the meeting."

"whens the meeting?"

"tonight. save it til then."

"ok, i gotta jet."

"see ya buddy"...[humming to himself] its the circle of liiiiife, more friends than you can emajeeeeen"

The idea of scootin

2007-09-25T13:07:00.000-05:00

July 9, 2007 - Monday

Branton: "hey R., do you wanna ride the scooter before it gets too dark?"

Wilde: "does an alaskan grizzly bear like to catch fish in the river without wearing waders?"

Branton: "what?"

Wilde: "what?"

Branton: "was that a yes or a no?"

Wilde: "oh that was a yes. do i have to wear the helmet?"

Branton: "of course you do. why wouldnt you want to wear the necessary safety equipment?"

Wilde: "look, you dont have to brow beat me. how do you start this thing?"

Branton showed Wilde again for the fifth time at least how to crank the scooter and away Wilde went having a blast.

Back from the short trip, Wilde hands the scooter back over to Branton.

Wilde: "hey Branton, has anyone given you any crap about riding this thing yet?"

Branton: "nah, everyone that sees me on it just wants to ask how many miles per gallon it gets."

Wilde: "i wonder how scooters got such bad raps? I mean, i know you have heard the joke about scooters and, well, nevermind, lets keep it holy."

Branton: "nope, no one has said anything negative about it."

Wilde: "well, my opinion on the matter is that if anyone has the cujones to ride one, you probably wouldnt want to mess with them. i'd say to anyone wanting to cause trouble, look at me, i am on a scooter. do you think i give a crap? i'll fight you in a heart beat, dont mess with nobody riding a scooter, you hear boy? thats what i'd say."

Branton: "yeah, ill go along with that, especially if you see a pack of scooters. thats got to be a mean group of son of a guns, ya know?"

Wilde: "have you tried to pop a wheelie yet?"

Branton: "nope, aint gonna neither."

Wilde: "well, when i get a scoot, watch out. I am going to build some ramps and jump'em, maybe even swerve at pedestrians. I'll definitely be hogging my side of the road, you can believe that."

Branton: "ok. whatever."

Wilde: "it sure would be a better world if everyone rode a scooter."

Branton: "before a person buys a scooter they should think about what they are getting themselves into, not everyone can handle the power of a scooter."

Wilde: "how fast will yours go?"

Branton: "fifty-five, sixty tops and it doesnt matter how fast you go, if a car sees you on a scooter, they are going to try to go past you. no one wants to get passed by a scooter, ya know?"

Wilde: "theres probably some internal need for people to feel like they are going faster than a scooter."

Branton: "yeah, but you arent riding a scooter to be a speed demon."

Wilde: "nope."

Branton: "speed goes out the window and people's only objective is to pass the scooter, i know its true cause when in a car, i do the same. Motorcycles are the same. Motorcyclists see scooters the same way the kings and queens of the 17th century saw peasants."

Wilde: "aint that a shame? Branton, you know so much about scooters. you are an inspiration. you are sooo cool Branton Taylor."

Yankee Doodle Scooters

2007-09-25T13:01:00.001-05:00

(R.Wilde and several co-workers attend a Yankees game)

Wilde: "i can't believe they are going to tear the old girl down after next season.

JonMykel: "what?"

Kregg: "you mean you didnt know they are building a new stadium?"

JonMykel: "no!"

Wilde: "can you not see the eight cranes set up behind the stadium? They have most of the bowl completed already."

Kregg: "yeah, word is that Steinbrenner started before he even applied for the permits."

Wilde: "it must be true because they only got the permits six months ago and they seem to be alot further along."

Kregg: "quit driving circles around the stadium and park for pete's sake."

Wilde: "yeah, for pete's sake."

JonMykel: "who? the project owner?"

Kregg: "not peter, just pete?"

JonMykel: "what?"

Kregg: "what?"

Wilde: "hey! look at that why dontcha! Where are we, france?

JonMykel: "a police scooter?"

Kregg: "are the new york precincts hurting that bad?"

Wilde: "wheres the cop that rides that beauty?"

JonMykel: "oh, i am sure he parked it and walked away as fast as he could.

Kregg: "probably didnt even look back."

JonMykel: "yeah, hoping someone would steal it or kick it over and break it."

Wilde: "park park, geez! i wanna ask that officer standing behind it a question."

Wilde to the officer: "sir, yeah, excuse me, is this your police scooter?"

Officer: "why would you think that?"

JonMykel: "well, you are standing it pretty close to it, we just assumed..."

Officer: "you know what ya do when you assume, dontcha boy?"

JonMykel: "boy?"

Officer: "have youtes been drinking? am i gonna havta make ya wok da line?"

Wilde: "no sir, we were just curious....why a scooter? we've all seen chips, we know about the harley's so why the tranistion to a scooter?"

Officer: "look, keep moving, aight."

Wilde: "no offense sir, i just really want to know, you see i think the world would be a better place if everyone rode a scooter."

Officer: "listen you seem like a good kid. we dont want alot of attention to the scoots so dont go runnin ya mouth about what i am gonna tell ya. ok, kid?"

Wilde: "my lips are zipped."

Officer: "the department purchased 300 of these scoots. 200cc's of power with front and rear disc brakes for easier stopping while navigating through the congested new york city streets."

JonMykel: "how fast will they go? 35mph?

Officer: "haha ya dumb bloke, these scoots top out at 75mph have water proof this and that, tons of compartments with an automatic transmission. not only are da scoots extremely fuel efficient, they have the lowest emissions and shock absorbers making them the smoothest ride in town. they are ideal for stop and go situations.

Wilde: "so they got you on a scooter?"

Officer: "nah, it takes alot of seniority to get on a scoot, only the elite in the department get one.

Kregg: "what was the matter with just using the horses. are the scoot replacing the horse mounted patrols?"

Officer: "you still got some horses cause the height advantage the officer has when riding a horse is champion. the horses are mainly around times square, midtown and in da park. watch out for da steaming piles boys."

JonMykel: "i just dont see intimidation on the scoots though."

Officer: "have you seen them out on patrol? its a grand sight to behold."

Officer: "The scooters have been most effective fighting to stop the Five Families of the Sicilian Mafia, the Westies of the Irish Mob and Russian organized crime elements. The Scooter Patrols work with the Organized Crime Control Bureau's Joint Organized Crime Task Force and works in cooperation with the FBI's NYC field office. Its all high level stuff. The Scoots as we call them regularly assists the units of the Organized Crime Control Bureau when executing high risk arrests or warrants."

Wilde: "i had no idea."

Officer: "not many people do. we also have a COPs program we are working out."

Kregg: "COPS program?"

JonMykel: "you mean citizen on patrol?"

Officer: "exactly. you wouldnt believe some of the people that ride on patrol. Derek Jeter has a scoot. he flipping hates crime. he says when he puts on that scooter helmet, nothing can stop him from taking a bite outta crime. the helmet makes him incognito of course, like a masked man."

Kregg: "NO WAY!"

Officer: "yes way. listen, when he leaves here, it'll be on a scoot."

Officers radio: "unit 21please respond to a distrubance over on the allenwood side of the block."

Officer: "i gotta run boys, but remember everything i said is kinda hush hush, it gives us our advantage, you undastand?"

And with a wink he gets on the scooter and rides off. The boys head on into the stadium for the matchup between the Blue Jays and Yankees.

During the game Wilde couldnt hid his excitement about this new found scooter knowledge. he asked several fans sitting around his section about scooter cops. "we dont know nothing" is the only response they could muster.

Wilde: [thinking to himself] "wow this is low key or are the scooters almost unnoticeable out there?"

Sitting three rows from the field and right in front of third base, Wilde screamed out to Jeter, "hey scooter man!"

Jeter, looked around in both direction as though making sure no one else was paying attention to him and walked a little closer to where Wilde sat. Jeter stared Wilde down, winked at him and put his finger to his mouth as to hush Wilde. Jeter then tipped his hat and walked back to his position at shortstop.

Wilde and company stuck around after the game and watched as this lone scooter left from the players gate. Of course they knew who it was and admittedly felt like the streets were going to be safer, even if just a little bit.

LIFETIMER

2007-09-25T12:58:00.000-05:00

September 3, 2007 - Monday

So, its Saturday, kick-off Saturday to be exact. Sure division 1 college football officially kicked off on Thursday with LSWho and Mississippi State but this is the first football saturday of another all too precious fall.

i love fall. As a kid i loved the summer, but since i dont get a whole summer to waste away anymore, fall has fast become my new number one.

I love being able to wear a long sleeved shirt and flip flops. Yes, now that i am approaching thirty-one i am tired of sweating to death while just walking to the car during the brutal heat of a typcial alabama summer day. i love the fall.

i like the changes in the colors of the leaves still clinging to the trees they grew on. i love the fall.

my birthday is in october. obviously its the best time of the year when we get to celebrate the anniversary of my birth. i love the fall.

But more than anything else about the fall, i love college football. i love the fall.

So, its saturday, kick-off saturday to be exact. i hardly wake up, get up and move to the living room and lie back on the couch. Why? Football games will be kicking off soon and i need to soak in as much of the pregame fanfare as possible.

A couple hours later i found myself flipping back and forth between three or four games, none of which were that good. Somehow i flipped past the Lifetime channel, you know, the one that is geared towards women folk. Dadfreakingummit if i didnt get sucked in to their story about a girl named Augusta.

the bad part and i hate to admit this, is that my wife wasnt even at home. What is happening to me? i wait in anticipation all year long for the football season. I spend hour after hour on Saturdays watching, analyzing, enjoying the game. and now i am glued to the lifetime channel only flipping during the commercials to check the scores, afraid to miss important plot points in the movie.

i wasnt missing much as UAB was getting slobberknocked by the likes of Michigan State while the Virginia Tech story was retold again and in case you missed it, again (FYI - i really felt for the Va.Tech nation, I am simply harping on how the ESPN plays something over and over and over). But for pete's sake? the Lifetime channel? A story about a child drug user turned runaway or something?

Gimme a break. if one of you guys told me this story, i would laugh at you. i would point my cold hard hearted fingers at you and mock you for the next seven times that i saw you. i would be brutal. So if you feel you need to sink to my level, then laugh. Go ahead and laugh, i am.

I would like to point out that i was very happy indeed that mighty Michigan fell to division one double A opponent Appalachian State from Boon, NC. I enjoyed watching Georgia Tech embarrass the media darling Notre Dame.

I did not enjoy watching my Auburn Tigers struggle through three quarters of that ball game. I was glad they woke up with a few minutes left in the game and found a way to win. Winners always find a way to win.

Its now Monday, Labor Day and more ball games are on. I am hoping the Florida State vs. Clemson game will be worth watching while i ponder what Labor day is and why i get the day off from work. What are we honoring on Labor Day? Are we honoring work by not going in and working one special day a year? Nevermind, i shouldnt be asking these types of questions anyway. I have to get back in there and armchair quarterback the rest of this Texas Tech game.

Airport Security and the Flower Bed Romper Stomper

2007-09-25T12:57:00.000-05:00

September 11, 2007 - Tuesday

its five o'clock in the a.m. as i sit in the airport at the gate, gate C4 to be precise. Sleep has my number. In just a bit, i will most definitely be snoring on the plane. Sure, the snoring will wake me up. It will be a tad emabarassing, but not enough so that it will prevent me from closing the lids and doing it over again.

Here is the thing i hate about flying. I just made it through the security line and they go through your skimpies and whatnot. The irritating thing they do is make you put any kind of liquid or gel containing substances like toothpaste or face wash into a tiny zip lock bag and place it on the roller for inspection.

Do you guys know why they do this? Because some terrorist prick attempted to take some kind of liquid on a plane to make a bomb, or so we were told. How does it affect us? we can only take 3 or 4 ounce size toiletries in our carry on bags. It really depends on what airport you go to. there is no consistency from city to city on what they allow.

So this morning i had to discard or allow them to discard a bottle of face wash and a tube of paste formulated to clean the choppers. The bottle of face cream was 4 ounces. The Transportation Security Administration worker person lady informed me that it had to be 3.4 ounces so i couldnt fly with it.

"ok, whatever lady...toss it i guess."

The toothpaste couldnt have had an ounce of paste but it was a regular sized tube. This is lunacy or is it loonacy? Does it matter? really? now i gotta buy more stuff. I guess they have to be careful though. As far as they know, I might have McGyver -esque skills and be able to make something out of a half empty 4ounce bottle of face wash and a flat empty tube of paste.

What would i make though? a snowmobile? a parachute? hydrochloric acid to melt through my seat belt so i can get up faster and hit the jon before there is a line to wait in? i dunno but this is stupid and dont ask me if i feel safer. These guys can throw away a tube of crap but at 5a.m. they arent checking other stuff close enough. i would bet my life on that. ok...maybe not my life, but something valuable like my 1989 leaf donruss baseball card collection and thats only because i have two of them and it looks like baseball cards arent worth crap umpteen years later after we all bought into that scam.

FLY THOSE FRIENDLY SKIES BABY!

Another quick story and i wish i had taken some pictures of the damage and the dog but i didnt so sue me.

our neighbors keep their dogs up like a pan handler pays attention to personal hygiene. Its non existent. Don't get me wrong i like a dog as much as the next guy....as long as its mine and its not inconveniencing me.

Unfortunately the one truth i have figured out on my own is that a pet, especially a dog and most especially a puppy needs plenty of attention. I had a chocolate lab that would eat the siding right off the house, no time for a plate. "want salt on that? want i should nuke it in the microwave first? No? You're good? ok."

you gotta pay attention or your pet with destroy something that belongs to you or your neighbor. Maybe you dont care. Stay classy then and stay the heck away from me with that attitude. you aint selling nothing that i am considering buying, nothing.

So anyway, back to the story and this story only has one funny quip and the moral is quite fuzzy, especially at this point.

our neighbor's pup has not only learned to take plenty of healthy poops in the yard, he has discovered he likes to lie and kick and romp and play in my flower bed. Three geraniums gone. poof, just like that, destroyed. I envision that he gripped the branches in his mouth and shook violently. I would think its funny if i saw it....that is with him doing it at his own house or with his play toy. i would laugh and shake my head and say, "that ol'dog sure is having a good time, bless his heart" , but his good time has infringed on my good patience.

Its been this way for weeks, he takes off shoes, he strows bark, he chews DW's fall yard decorum. That was the final straw really. She had some kind of straw man thing sitting on a pumpkin. that straw man just sat there, he didnt bother any one, but the puppy dog showed him no restraint. he violated that poor 8 dollar straw man and DW has nothing left but comtempt in her heart for said pup.

DW, as distraught as she was, kicked the straw man into the neighbors yard. She wanted them to see it. The whole time we are complaining about the neighbors. The neighbors this. The neighbors that. My son Jackson is soaking it all in. He is always up for conflict. He is like he daddy and is a bit of an instigator. It tickles him to play jokes and wrestle and fight. There is no malice, mind you, only fun.

So DW finds the straw man back in our yard again that afternoon and kicked it back into the neighbors yard hoping once again that they would see it and realize just how ticked we are. Jackson looked up at his mommy with his big blue eyes and said, "momma, i dont understand what you are doing, but i LIKE it."

Then he ran over and gave it another kick. That was something he could get behind. Precious, just precious,

I wish i could do a better job at expressing tone in these types of dialogues but alas, this will have to do. Its early. I got up at 3a.m. to catch this flight. Bear with me. Love covers all. Double knot your shoe strings when you tie them, do the bunny loop. kill all snakes and lastly but not necessarily most importantly chew with your mouth closed, no one wants to see your food.

kindest regards,

rob

Fly Those Friendly Skies

2007-09-25T12:46:00.000-05:00

Yesterday on my return flight from Hartford CT, to Hotlanta (i know, how gay is it to say hotlanta?) GA. I heard the pilot say something I didnt care to hear then or ever again. This pilot was sharing way to much information.

Close enough to Atlanta to parachute out, the pilot (aka captain) speaks...

Captain Petey: (over the intercom to passengers): "hello again, this is your captain speaking, if you look out of the right side of the plane you will notice a dark wall of clouds. That ladies and gentlemen is a thunderstorm Currently we are 50 miles from the runway, but the Air Traffic Control has had us in a holding pattern for the last thirty minutes due to air traffic in this area. "

Captain Petey still talking: "Now thanks to this storm we have to deviate and head toward columbus in an effort to sneak in behind the storm. The problem with that folks IS THAT WE ARE BURNING FUEL LIKE CRAZY."

My buddy Randall was sitting next to me. We were in the emergency exit row. He casually mentioned to me that he had read the book, Free Fall about a plane that ran out of fuel at 41,000 feet.

I informed him that i would be ready in case we would be called on to lead these people to safety in the event of an emergency landing/crash.

I was ready to step into the limelight and become the hero that deep down i knew that i was capable of being.

Unfortunately the lady sitting next to us who had been sleeping the whole trip woke up and heard the captain and then our comments.

I honestly didnt think she was a woman because if you notice she had a huge adam's apple but whatever. She began to frantically look around as though she was trying to locate a lost item.

Randall: "excuse me ma'ma, are you ok? what are you looking for?"

Lady: "i'll tell you what i am looking for...."

She found it and the whole plane went nuts!

Nobody even knew exactly why they had gone so quickly into such an irrational state other than one lady lost her nerve. She went from sleep to pandalerium in 0 to 60 seconds and couldnt handle it. People are like lemmings jumping off a cliff, you scream, i scream we all scream for ..wait, why are we screaming?

Anyway, the crew finally calmed all the passengers a bit more and then we starting going through terrible turbulence.

Some people become extremely frightened when the plane starts dropping. I heard one lady scream, "i just threw up in my mouth a little."

I shook my head, tsk tsk. i remained as calm as a cucumber in a house salad. As we bumped along, i hit my flight attendant call button...ding ding and the little red light came on brightly.

The flight attendant carefully manuvered her way to the middle of the plane where i sat and said "what do you need sir, are you ok?" Most of everyone else was rather tense and praying that we land soon and safely.

"oh, i am fine, but i must have been dozed off when you previously came by with the snack cart, can i get a pack of crackers and a ginerger aisle?"

Needless to say, she was not amused, but to me one question does not a trouble maker make.

After we landed and coasted on fumes to our gate, the pilot came on the intercom once more.

Captain Petey: Folks this is your captain again. I apologize for the bumpy flight but we did get you here to the gate a few minutes early with no problems save for one trouble maker. You know who you are sir. Have a good day folks and we invite you to fly the friendly skies with us again where ever your travels take you, everyone except the trouble maker that is."

As we walked off the plane, Randall told the pilot, "thanks for saving us enough fuel to get here."

Captain Petey: "Dont mention it sailor, no worries."

Fly those friendly skies baby, such is the life.

Do You Like My Hat?

2007-09-25T10:59:00.000-05:00

Do You Like My Hat?

Go Dogs Go.

I found this masterpiece to be insightful and full of ethically sound judgements?

This book is an amazing story of one dog's journey through life.

There is a profundity of life nesteled in the simplicity of this book. Why do we go? Why do we stop? We are all in this together, black, white, red, blue and green.

My life is about rules. I try to follow the rules. Its not my job to make you follow them. There are some rules that must be followed to be successful in life. I especially loved the part in the book where the dogs stopped at the red light and drove off again when the light was green again.

These dogs were following a path. The path was not wide, but it was the one laid out before them. There were stops on the path. There were directions along the way.

The dogs observed many things while they sojourned.

The sun is yellow regardless of where you go. This is infact science and one simply cannot argue with science. The sun shines on the just and unjust alike.

Its hot "on top" of the house, but not so much under the house. Can you stand the heat? Is it nice to be in the shade sometimes? I am reminded of what King Solomon said when he spoke of there being a time and purpose for all things under the sun.

At the end of the book, the dogs ascended to a higher place. There was a party there, a jubilee galore, but before they reached this destination, they had to follow the path that led them.

During this journey, there was one question asked over and again. Do you like my hat? I am not implying we have to accept everything that comes down the pike, but do we as people and how much more as those that are people of faith have to be so critical of everything? Why cant we be encouragers instead of naysayers?

There is a spirit of judgementalism and of being judged that creates an enormous divide between the people we want to be and the people whose lives we can and should touch.

Do you like my hat?

Do you like my hat?

Do you like my hat?

Do you like my hat?

Do you like my hat? Do you?

I said i do.

I said i like your hat, it looks good on you.

Why yes, yes i do...It suits your head, now lets find something else to do...

But we all judge based on the outside of a man and nothing changes....

we sure could learn alot from this book.

Shalom