NOTHING TO SEE

Nothing to see.  Perhaps its not what you are looking for, and reading between the lines suggests nothing sinister here.  Mother said.  “Take the broom handle, prop open the eyelids, and wake up son.  Time to start your day.  Put some clothes on, and change your under-ware, but take a shower first.”  That’s how you talk to boys, and starting at an early age, is good.  Slow to see what you are talking about, composition is for English school, and the truth is he grows on you.  Dirty on the outside, nice when you least expect it. 

 

 

Talking about the undiscovered me, and it has been a long journey to an early morning shower and smelling nice when around people.  Hard work made me like this.  Up early.  Get to the job site.  And then, too tired at the end of the day, and if you ask him he would say, “Mother had so many children, she got their names mixed up when telling stories of their youth.”

 

Charm and Character.  Not easy to frame in a picture and hang in the hall.  But won’t suggest there is nothing to see, when looking at my track record.  Circuitous at best, he invites you to the round table of sacred nights and a glass of wine or ale.  Be careful. 

 

The morning after can be revealing and it all depends how much you remember at the bar, how disappointing it is, when he’s gone and you read the note left on the table.  “ Stone Drum has a calling.  Stonehaven, Scotland.  Come find me if you dare.”

 

Nothing to see.  Not much there.  I am not really saying that.  Depends on what you desire.  Landscape promise is more compelling than chasing a boy across the seven seas, or even across the Atlantic.  But it happens.  Eating and drinking and he is available.  That’s how it got started.  The rest was a yearning for travel and lust.  At the time, it was beautiful. 

 

What I saw in my mind, and the projection of us walking the highlands hand in hand, and me, a little slowed down by carrying his baby.  Truth is we never got that far.  Prevailing westerly winds blew us off course, and is true I was comfortable at the Holiday Inn, but without him.  Stone Drum and Stone-haven.  We don’t talk about it very much, when Christmas comes around and he appears magically.  High Ground Approach. 

No death stares.  Nothing to see.  No pictures from the past.  Was in my youth and yes he put notions in my head.  Rocked my cradle so to speak, but barely could afford the ticket to Scotland.  Lands End and so did my man-dreams with him.  Invisible permutations of good times and a good man, blown off course near Stonehaven.

 

Blamed in on the weather and facing east staring into the night, as sand became tears in my eyes.  Disappearing Act.  Round Table Night.  Dark Ale.  Flickering light and no pictures.  Nothing to see, but felt it at heart level.  Gone but not forgotten.  Like a museum piece I yearn to visit, Stone Drum is a favorite. 

 

Even now.  Even in bad weather.  Coming Home.  Older now and understand.  At the time he was all I could see.  Close my eyes and he was there.  Still is.  Frozen in time.    Oh so lovely.  Those days of youth.  Being in Love.  Near a Scottish Castle.  Nothing to see, but a lot to cherish and remember.  Yes, indeed.

pardon my ignorance

PARDON MY IGNORANCE

Time and attention to the tone and feeling of this time of year, brings me to the

Point of no-return, when I tell myself, “Don’t give in to all this junk-on-your-bunk and a stranger’s attitude.  Attitude and Altitude, and standing watch along the border, to see who might come along.  Immigration and Migration, and I now remind myself to put out something for the birds and for the hungry. 

Not to say, “Let’s Talk About It.”, but realize it feels excessive in the downward direction, when you  are being ignored, or just have no place to go.  No money.  Haven’t put the tree up yet.  Not sure I will.  But suddenly I feel like I need to do something, but the list is very long now, The Things We Just Don’t Do  2012.”

Step up and tell all.  That is not going to happen.  I feel awkward about this and am more aware of this than ever before.  Flying affects me.  Attitude and Altitude and standing in line, and then the body scan and imagining what I might look like, with no clothes on and skin and bone.  It is good to have a reservation. 

Hesitation and Caution go with the territory.  Did I mention, I rate low on mingle-ability.  Wall Flower, maybe.  Not really shy, as I just don’t want to be involved, but read a lot and must learn by experience, “No Man Is An Island.”    I’ve heard people suggest, there is a way around all this, but so far at the airport, and if I move an inch, a red light goes off, and my heart starts pounding.  Tell myself, “Too Old  For This.”  And am isolated, so have nobody to ask, “Is this true?”  Flying Affects Me.  Pay the price for getting high.  I do.

 

Letting the season settle around me.  Thanksgiving is over, and am thankful I am here, at the airport and waiting at the curb, looking for a friendly face.  Lost in a crowd of mass-transit humanity.  I want so much more, but that’s not going to happen.  Conspicuously awkward in unfamiliar situations, but I have been here before.  Last Year.  And now I am back, and you are asking, “Why?”

 What’s the point? 

Upside, downside, and now standing in the middle waiting for you to join me.  Where do I anticipate that event to be?  Under the Mistletoe and near the lights, hot chocolate in hand, just seeing you warms my heart and head and hands.  Taking what you give me, I smile.  “Thank You Love.”

Pardon My Ignorance, but this is what I do this time of year.  Travel.  Look Around.  Hope to find happiness and love.  And when I do, it makes it all worth-while.  In the airport.  Out at sea.  Halfway house and not sure when I will be released.  But its not about what you do most of the year. This time  its special.  Looking For Love.  Looking For You.  Everywhere. 

 

And yes, tis true. Even at the airport I hope to find that perfect line with you standing in front of me, going my way.  That’s what happens when attitude and altitude affect you.  And did I mention running through the airport, holding hands with O.J. Simpson. 

 

And the lights go off, people begin to notice you, and its best to just stop.  Look at the ground and realize.  Tis the life.  2012.  In the airport.  Get Real.  Time To Get Searched.  Stop looking for her.  It’s a myth.  Santa is really busy.  Its not going to happen, no matter what they tell you.  Tis the season.  You are alone. 

With your thoughts.

All about love. 2012

Cheers

 

NEW EXPERIENCE

NEW EXPERIENCE

 

 

A new year is just around the corner, and I often remind myself, “This has happened before.  Proceed with Caution.”  Too much enthusiasm and radiation of expectations might not result in the outcome we had anticipated.  Was on the verge of writing a blog yesterday, and came up with a title :  Pardon My Ignorance, but the blog was never written.  Discovered that just now, as I am preparing a new blog and theme:  New Experience.

 Duck and Weave yourself to success.  Noticing that I am getting over 20 views for a blog just posted on stonedrum.blogspot.com, titled:  Family Silence.  And makes me consider if it matters what your title tells your audience about the content of the following material?  What Matters?  Moving from a long occupied Blog Space:  Multiply.com and brings me to the present moment.  New Space.  New Audience.  New Experience.  My subject for today.

Yesterday I could not get my head around the subject:  Anti-Madonna.  Which was my first choice and spontaneous direction to type it out and see where it leads, but then confusion found me.  It is true, winter comes to those who wait.  No real reflection to the idea that there are places on the planet where there are only two seasons, and winter is missing.  Los Angles, perhaps as an example and becomes a fantasy place and existence.  No bad weather like in Chicago, but do not let me get off-topic. 

Winter and out of nowhere came a sense of not feeling so well.  And for a diversion, I went to google news and went searching to see how your day might be developing, if you were not local. 

And hence, confusion found me.  Anti-Madonna became a nap.  “Got to lay down.  Will be back.”  Self-Talk.  Live alone, or am alone when people exit and go to work or off to a warm place, and I am left feeding the cat and watering the plants, and yes, left talking to myself.    When I thought about it more, found the topic was toxic.  Found reading google new headlines was not a sure cure for what ails me.  Tis Winter.

 

It now turns on a single point, Stoney Blogger has issues.  Winter and confusion has found me.  Anti-Madonna and I thought I could make sense of the attention-grabbing headlines that pass as morning news.  But then, the more I looked into it and actually clicked on something and explored the content more, I realized I was at the point of declaring a truce. 

 

Happened faster for me than in other places around the world, but is because:  “I don’t like to fight.”  Don’t like to bring up unpleasantness.  So Anti-Madonna became a new theme:  Pardon My Ignorance.  And that was the heart of the matter.  I just saw a headline and followed where it would lead me.  Into confusion.   Spent the rest of the day, not writing a blog as was my intention, but rather, sleeping it off. 

And woke to the realization that it was not my job to put a positive spin on dreadful stuff, and then post it in public as a private discussion with myself.  Self-Talk could wait for another day.  And so, yesterday’s blog was never written.

And am back at it.  PED.  Performance Enhancing Drugs.  I need to do better.  But I am learning.  Public and Private.  “Weep no more, my darling.”  I am learning.  I will respond accordingly.  Tis Winter.  And it is okay to discover as a new experience all those things you hope to avoid, when starting a brand new day.  Is okay to acknowledge new experience.  This has never happened to me, until now.  Good or Bad.  I must write my blog.

 It is my daily habit. 

 

And that is when I realized what when things go wrong and you don’t know what to do, it is okay to go out in the world and ask for help.  And that is exactly what I am doing.  I need to do better.  Any suggestions.  For curing my current situation:  Winter and Confusion.  It is keeping me from performing and writing.  My daily blog. And this is bothering me.

PED.

I must do better.  Agree or Disagree. 

I wonder. 

 

FAMILY SILENCE

 

THE SILENT FAMILY

Not sure anybody wants to hear this, but the modern family is not what it is advertised to be.  Equal Opportunity.  Get a Job.  Get an education.  Get a life.  Your husband might have been cute when you found him in college, but let’s face it, 10 years later and you have graduated, have a good job, and yes, travel and this is the time of the year, when somebody has to decorate the house and get ready for the end-of-year celebrations. 

Traditional Family Life. 

Can suggest I am focusing on getting their attention:  Daughter.  Wife.  Her Children.  Ok, explaining all the details is not going to win a lot of friends, just now.  Wife died in child-birth circumstance, a few months after the children were born.  At first I thought it was up to me, to do all the things she might do.  But wait, there is more.

With children comes ritual and noise.  At some point I must have said,

“Please G-D.  I pray for a little peace and quiet.” 

And guess what.  By the magic of email and stuff like that, my wishes came true.  Now it is me, and no pets or children to pee on the carpet.  Just Family Silence.  My blog for today.

 

Last week the news was all about C.I.A director Petraeus and some people in Florida trolling the military circuit for high ranking generals and a connection to power and access to the

confident-few-elite in government and on the military base just down the street from where they live.  Came down to a girl fight, where one has an affair with a married man, the other wants in on the action, and sees opportunity. 

FBI dude and email and conduct unbecoming to the gentlemen involved, and one thing leads to another, and I get a notice from my family, saying:  “No Email.” 

And truth is without electronic transfer and email and electronic-chatter, I feel cut off.  You know the feeling.  Significant Other, be it wife or girlfriend or somebody you want to sleep with, and you fight or disagree or just become exhausted and say the wrong thing.  Next thing you get the notice: 

“Sleep on the Couch.  Stay out until you come to your senses. As if that will happen.”

Wonder if this really happens.  And before you know it, Family Silence prevails.  Note on the kitchen table.  “Gone for a Month.  No Email.  Business Trip.  Or something.”  And that is how it seems.  Modern Day Affairs.  Momentous Consequence.  No dog, nor children peeing on the carpet.  Not complaining, but takes a while to realize what happens when inappropriate behavior brings into focus:

The Silent Family.  And no email.

Cyber-stalking at the highest level.  Complaints by Jill Kelley.  Not sure if any of this is directly related to me, but I can say it is very quiet around my house.  Not saying this is bad.  Time for a business trip of my own.  Money Business.  Seek sunshine in Bangkok, maybe.  Anywhere but here. 

Side-step the question, what must we do to fill the house with children and laughter and good-will.  Holiday sounds and presents under the tree, and yes a cheerfully decorated home.  What to do?  What to do? 

Without email,  there is no interest in the question.  Not sure what is really going on.  Do men ever comprehend the question:  “What do you make of this?”  Man and Woman.  Serious Situation.  NO email.  No notes.  Nothing.  Nada.

 

 

Things happen.  Inspired by anonymous.  A world out there and some how it comes back to influence me and my well-being.  Forget about the reason for the fight, suggest it was just a lot of noise and family tension.  Comes with raising kids, or having too many unbroken and not potty-trained moments on the couch and rug.  Who knows.  But is not a laughing matter.  Results in Family Silence. 

And No Email.  The Kiss of Death in modern times.  Affectionate but Platonic.  I would like that.  And now I am thinking.  What can I buy them and put under the tree, that might bring noise and laughter and a burst of excitement that begins with,

“Honey, I’m home.  P.S.  Walk the dogs and change their diapers.  We are home. Wake UP.  ”

Holiday Cheer.  A blog about The Silent Family.  And yes, no email or notes.  But we can forget all that.  Home for the Holidays.  Let’s get this party started.  Wishing you happiness and Holiday Cheer.  One and All.

 

TWISTED LIGHT

 

TWISTED LIGHT

 

The question for today is:  “Can A Lighthouse Beam Guide Us.”  “Where you going, Captain Man?”  And if the answer comes from 1920 and centers around Janus Rock, I suggest it can.  But that was many lifetimes ago, and the side-effect of going there, suggests a backward slide into water of troubled times, and self-imposed limits.  So is the time to fast-forward and where we stand today, is in a line, for it is the day after Thanksgiving in America.

And I must tell you, “ I have been thinking about Twisted Light and the gestation of elves, while others around push and shove their way to the Bargain Table, where material goods at an inexpensive price are what they came here for.”  I did not anticipate the beam of light that got me here.  “Beam Me Up Scotty.” 

Science Fiction and Past Reality, how far can we see without the benefit of mind and brain and body?  And brings the conversation to the sandy bar, just beyond the rocks.  Am here by means of referral and consciousness.  Thinking about how in one day, mind-travel takes me oh so far.  And in comment posted by a friend, was exposed to things, not actually of great concern to me, but now I am moving in a new direction, without the benefit of a body of knowledge that prepares me for what I will see or experience.  All new. 

Not necessarily something I can wrap and put under the Christmas Tree, as a present for you.  But then again, remote viewing and second sight and conscious observance of the things around us, is not really something many are interested in, while in line and waiting for the doors to open.

 Shopping.  Material Pursuit. 

And he asks, “Can a lighthouse beam guide us?”

 

Consciousness as Epiphenomena.  Wife is reading books on human consciousness.  Message received.  Surrounded by very intelligent people.  And all I do is wipe my brow, and day-dream.  Wish I was in another world and another time.  1920 and Janus Rock.  Mind-numbing transference.  Am struggling with the second chapter, and remind myself: Wife reads very fast and comprehends all of this.

 I do not. 

Western Australia.  Nothing there.  And yes.  There is the aboriginal view of another way. Makes this a foreign place to me, and  personal experience blocks me from actually embracing all of this.  We are strangers.  I am a casual observer.  It is not easy, but if you look deeper, a feeling tone erupts inside you.  Mind or body.  Burp or Epiphany.  Where are we going with all this.  Crushed upon the rocks in a turbulent storm, or saved by the experience of seeing the light or the beam, cast by a light-house, oh so remote, and making the proper navigational corrections, that bring us to safety? 

On the water, and in the world around you is a place, a hundred and 50 years, removed.  Hard to get my head around it.  Standing in Line.  Wife and Daughter and Shopping.

 

There is no consensus.  Science doesn’t know, and surely I do not.  What are these ladies thinking?  There is no consensus.  Physical responses transformed into experience.  My feet are hurting.  Next, comes the headache, when they say, “Pay The Man.”  Material Universe.  Well rehearsed.  A traditional adventure.  Go Shopping the day after Thanksgiving.  Pay The Man. 

This is not a Free experience. 

And it comes to me as the beam of light strikes lightly upon my retina, The materialistic dogma of reducing everything to material components, has far reach and often unseen consequences.  Brain.  Mind.  Conscious Suggestion.  When wife and daughter tell you to step up and pay the bill.  You just do it.  It fits within the paradigm, Night Before Christmas and under the tree, presents.

And so I say it and kind of mean it.  Makes Sense.  Life is a Gift.  Enjoy it.  And at the same time, ignore the twisted logic and the twisted light and the question of the gestation of elves.  Save it for another day.  Concentrate on getting from the check-out-line to the car and then safely home.  Arms loaded with newly bought items.  Remember how you got here.  Remember the question for today: 

“Can A Lighthouse Beam Guide Us.”   

Remember it is important to be transported safely home.  Is important to avoid the rocks and everything not immediately in front of you, as the Women of the Home tell you, “We will take a taxi.  Bought a lot.  No room for us.  Drive safely.  Will see you soon.”  And there I am.  Repeating over and over:  “Life is a Gift.  Best Enjoy it.”