Walks Along the Edge...

Its been nearly a year since I tried a consistent return here. I failed, and let time sweep me past my convictions. Perhaps this time, with a firmer anchor in place, I can be relied upon to be more consistent.

Its at times like these, as I walk my path, that I often look down, and think that if I look closely enough, it would not matter what I walked upon but that my feet would still be balanced on a precipice. Then, I remember I have walked this way before, and I only fall when I take my eyes off of the path.

Mustang

To Converse...

Ensconced in my usual java shop perch, I was joyously oblivious to all the riotous early morning mental flotsam and jetsam trailing before, with and behind my co-dependent caffeine cohorts. At some point, the coffee engaged, neurons awoke, and electrons began to...well, not surge through my brain but surely lurch seems adequate to describe their collective efforts.

It was at this particular point in my pre-dawn cranial pilates that I happened to notice a young, cavity-prone couple sitting abaft my scuppers and that in fact neither had their speaking aids (i.e. cell phones) on their person. Ravaged from my efforts to ignore my rising blood chemistry, I was forced to notice that in fact, they spoke, and to each other. Up close. With words.

My curmudgeonly smirk was rudely dashed from my handsome face, and I sat stunned to see to young people, of opposite gender, speaking is complete sentences sitting across from each other in a public place with the apparent intent of communicating to each other without the emotional parachute of grotesquely abbreviated monosyllabic digital text-speak.

I sat, watched, and finally with brazen disregard to personal release forms and the possibility of being mistaken for a famous paparazzi absconded with this image of them. There they sat, so close they could have checked each other for ticks, osculatorially-exchanged DNA, or simply let the other one know they were experiencing a cascade of pheromone-triggered biochemical responses also known as happiness.

So, there is hope. There is hope that our future generations will speak to each other, will find a way to put down their silicon-based life coaches, and find the pure joy in the immediate vicinity of the opposite gender, and our species will continue to create classical music, literature, art and the occasional offspring capable of non-electrified speech.

And for the record, yes..the are both wearing Chuck Taylor Classic Converse Tennis Shoes..

Mustang

Stretch before you lift...

Well, its been almost a year since I put fingers to keyboard and attempted to present a congent display of graphically pleasing electron-based pixels. So, I decided to just write this as a form of warm-up, to see if I still have the strength to blog.

So much has changed, but I won't bore you with my own perspectives on life, but for one exception.

Twitter

I will admit, I am older. I will admit that technology is outdistancing humanities ability to adapt. I heard the other night at a lecture that there were 1 billion people on the planet in 1830, and in 2008 there were 1 billion teenagers!

Twitter..the current social craze of micro-blogging in a mobile sense, so that any and all might come to know your innermost movements, thoughts, ruminations and near-insubstantial ideas. If you were worried about government attempting to monitor us, in an Orwellian form, we seem to be voluntarily offering up ourselves like so many micro-chipped puppies on the loose.

So, in closing..while you all "tweet"..consider a simple fact..that in 2010 almost 30% of the world's population will be without clean water to drink, that 40% of the world right now does not have access to electricity, and yet..we twitter. Frankly, it is a fine name for such a thing...

Mustang

Sunlight...

We often ignore that which is present, in order to see that which is not. Sunlight upon the leaf is the appearence of accumulated photons of energy, traveling the vast distance from our Sun. But it is the object that is struck, and the reflection of that energy that accumulates in our retinal nerve, ultimately reaching the visual cortex of our brain, that compiles itself into the cogent image we see. In short, we see what is present because what we cannot see illuminates the path...

So as we travel in our little orbits, observe that which you see, but be aware that each observation is preferentially lit, and that what you see is only a reflection, and that the source of the illumination must be considered. This is true of all things, and is especially applicable to puppies, kittens, butterflies and most people.

In summary, we each and every one of us receive the same source of light, but each of us reflects it in a unique way. Open your eyes to the vast spectrum of reflected light, and you will see better, and judge more wisely.

Mustang

Wandering Amongt the Stars...

Hello. I have been "gone" obviously, and with reasonable need. Nothing tragic or earthmover-ish, but simply a bit of time to wander different halls, and different trails, to listen to the rain along a different path.

That said, I will endevour to be more diligent in my efforts to not prolong the excessive gaps between which I write things that few read, and even fewer care to read again. Regardless, here I go again.

So, thought for the day...Has anyone ever seen Dick Chaney and Marsha Mason together at the same time and place, can you ever remember seeing a baby crow, and finally who found it necessary to put cute sayings on hot sauce packets at Taco Bell?

Enough for now, I will be back..if I can find the Bunny....

Mustang

Dear Ether…

..I have some requests, or maybe they would qualify as wishes, or even very well-meant and thoughtful hopes. I realize that your lack of corporeal reality prevents a true face-to-face request, and your usual wishing well/fountain/oracle-in-a-cave outlets are kinda busy this time of year, so I thought I would take a whack at this approach.

I’m hoping that my personal curmudgeon-ishness can be overlooked, as these are not for me, and so are meant for truly nice and well-meaning people. OK, so here goes…

For my wife I wish for her the strength to be unafraid, and know that I love her and will stand by her no matter what forever.

For my son and daughter I hope for patience, so that in time they may see each other as they are, not as they were.

For Joel I wish a chance to swing away, knowing that it will clear the wall no matter where he is. For Katie I wish that everyday, she has one special moment, when she knows without a doubt that she is loved. For them both I wish my strongest wish, for love and joy forever.

For Marcel I wish one hour when there is no lack of just the right word, the right phrase, and that he can say it all in that hour.

For Jayne, my wish is simple, that she sees in her mirror what I see.

For Chris and Devon I wish a single moment of unlimited love together everyday, but always at a different time of day because they like surprises.

For Eric, I wish him peace.

For Erik and Sally, I wish good travels and amazing dragonflies!

For John and John, I wish barbecuing classes, and strong hugs.

For my parents, for whom the journeys end draws closer, I wish comfort knowing they have succeeded, and we love them for who they are and what they did for us.

For Cosima, I wish a never-ending sense of adventure, and one hundred years of joy with Little Man.

For SeaRabbit I wish contentment, knowing that her voyages will all end with her love in her arms.

I just know I have forgotten someone. Please forgive me, and let me wish for those whom I have failed to mention good health, fair sailing, and above all peace and honor.

I enjoy…

…my kitchen stove. There are many reasons, but today the uppermost reason is my stove’s attraction. My stove attracts children who like purple pancakes and waffles with pecans. My stove attracts dogs that like apple-chicken sausage slowly simmering in maple syrup and chutney. My stove attracts friends who bring me cabernet sauvignon in a nice glass, in exchange for stir fried vegetables and curried chicken, and beer for simmered bratwurst, and a glass of 18-year old scotch if I nick off a bit of honey-butter simmered Canadian bacon for them, ahead of the rest of the crowd.

When my son was very young, I began teaching him how to cook. Essentially that entailed him watching me while eating a banana, and then demanding half of the scrambled eggs and potatoes I had just cooked. He developed an attraction for whatever came off of the stove.

My dogs know when I am cooking. Banished from the kitchen during meal preparations, they sit at the back door attempting to look under-nourished, in a useless attempt at convincing me to give in and share. I am convinced that dogs truly believe that they have sole provenance over gravity, and by merely focusing their little canine minds they can bend gravity to their bidding and make food fall to the floor. The sound of the tea kettle, and especially my favorite skillet, is all it takes to instigate a mad dash for the kitchen by my small herd of feline-hating fur buddies.

My friends congregate at the stove, invited in to the kitchen which is the center of all activity in our house during raucous affairs. Wine flows, voices rise and fall to the moment, and the stove soldiers on! I find myself dancing amongst my compatriots as they snack and drink, hug and laugh, smile and listen, all the while worrying over the sautéed mushrooms, the curry-glazed asparagus, and the smoked turkey-artichoke sausage bits. All eyes are cast at one time or another in the direction of the stove, as my friends find their palates and imaginations fired simultaneously by the food, wine and conversation. And all of this thanks to my stove.

Winter is coming, and that means my favorite time of year with the stove. It means cooking breakfast for my wife, and sharing the time I spend at the stove with her as we talk and keep warm while our breakfast occurs. The stove has heard it all, from news of my daughters impending arrival so many years ago, to plans for graduations and not-so-far-off weddings some day. I appreciate the stove, as solid and dependable as any friend. Much has changed in my life, but I can depend on my stove.