Even (or especially) against where I was even a month ago, I see how lucky I have been. The past month has been very good to me. (Maybe this is why today is no longer filled with dread a small voice speaks). Continue reading
Any attempts at autobiography before the age of eighty seem pretty self-involved to me. There are a lot of smart middle-aged people, but not a whole lot of wise ones... –Jimmy Buffett
You`re a part of me, I'm a part of you
Wherever we may travel
Whatever we go through
Whatever time may take away
It cannot change the way we feel today
You`re a part of me, and I`m a part of you –Glenn Frey
I sat down and played the Martin, and that sealed the deal. I plucked one note, a single string without pressing my fingers on the fretboard. As the string vibrated, the most heavenly note swirled up out of the sound hole. It held and expanded and filled the whole room. Overtones emerged, enhancing and expanding in the air like a good wine on the palette. I looked at the bronze string vibrating, and I played another. It rose in harmony to the first, then took over, bursting pure and free and full of joy.
I was stunned. And awed. Continue reading
The herd seek out the great, not for their sake but for their influence; and the great welcome them out of vanity or need. –Napoleon Bonaparte
“Bill, you look amazing”, I said to him as he passed by.
He just grunted a reply, not so much from rudeness, but because he was used to sycophants; he expected everyone to say nice albeit untrue things to him always, so he was used to passing such comments off.
“No, I mean it”, I continued as a trailed behind him. “You look like a new man. You look healthy as an ox.”
Again, he could only grunt in reply; I was not getting through to him. I looked at him, I tried to look deeper than the tan. His eyes were more alert, the wrinkles gone from his face. And he had…
“Bill”, I continued, “Do you realize you have hair?” Continue reading
Where thou art - that - is Home. –Emily Dickinson
I went deeper into the room as Lisa went to check out the master bath. She opened the door and there was a blood-curdling scream. It seems we were not asl alone as we thought we were! The owners were still there, one in bed, and his wife in the bathroom.
“Out of my house!,” she was screaming at us. Continue reading
If our colleges and universities do not breed men who riot, who rebel, who attack life with all the youthful vim and vigor, then there is something wrong with our colleges. The more riots that come on college campuses, the better world for tomorrow. –William Allen White
The further down the path we went, the darker our world became. The clouds thicken and bruised the sky. We came to a point where the path was blocked. Side to side, they had strung razor wire across out path. We had expected this; we had a way around the wire: We went underneath it. As soon as we had cleared that barrier, we saw our next problem.
Slowly, lumbering up the hill toward us was a giant rocket on a mobile launch vehicle. The white girders of the launcher were heavy and unwieldy. The weight of the rocket sunk the wheels of the transport into the soft earth, making progress slow. The diesels pushing the launcher up the rise moaned under the stress, the ground reverberating in sympathy with their laboring. Slowly, deliberately, the back end began to swing around as the pushed the launcher into its final position. Continue reading
Run like hell and get the agony over with. –Clarence DeMar
We hopped in a golf cart, and headed along a path that fronted the course. The runners would start off through a gate and run in a park on the other side of the chain link fence. At the first corner, they would head to the right; we sat at the corner and watched them pass. The children were running past now; I recognized Clara as she waved and passed us by.
While I had thought I had plenty of time– Jim had assured me I did!- I heard the call for my start. We raced back to the starting line in the golf cart. I went to where I had removed my race shoes, and they were gone. Continue reading
The universe is full of magical things, patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper. –Eden Phillpotts
He knew I was coming; he could see me and watch me at his whim. When I arrived, he looked at me hard. He was not worried about me, and not scared. He was not amazed, nor was he startled. He was not warm or inviting. Like the rocks around him, he just was.
He nodded slightly to me, inviting me to follow; he turned and went into his home. The door was old, once red, but the paint worn and faded. In many placed the paint was completely worn through to the wood beneath. But the door was thick and solid. It would have to be to seal off the home from the ravages of the sand storms it was there to buttress against. Continue reading