CLOUD AND SKY

CLOUD AND SKY




I am trying to keep an open mind.  Keep the conversation going, something old and something new.  Shying away from keying all my thoughts on media headline banners, that appear one day, and are gone the next.  More important to me at the moment is to fight obesity or wait problems, meaning I am suspended by the disbelief of what others do to each other.  Human behavior and where I live and the way I live, do not have the violent collision of push and shove, and have observed there is still room on the sidewalk for one and all.  We do not bump and run, instead we avoid the panhandlers and Help-For-Pay-Salesman that want to stop your progress, shake your hand and sign you up for Helping-Who-Knows-Who. 


 

And so obstacles are out there, but in keeping with an open mind, I keep my chin up and concentrate on The Sky and The Clouds passing through between the mountains and inland sea/sound, where I live.  In the Rain Belt.  Land of Umbrella and rain smock or REI techno-coat, that breathes and has a life of its own, protecting me.  From the elements and panhandlers and Help-Salesmen, that I abhor.

My daily spirit and mood is influenced by Cloud and Sky.  And on top of this I try to keep An Open Mind.  Having said that, I follow baseball on both coasts of the United States.  Local team with the name, Seattle Mariners.  Another team with the name, New York Yankees.  In keeping with an Open Mind, I shrug and suggest, "Not playing good baseball, but playing just the same." 


 

And that explains my detour route.  Instead of going to the stadium and sitting in Center Field, the only place I could afford if I wanted to take my family and see more than one game a year.  Instead of this, I am listening to baseball when I am in the mood, which isn’t all that often lately, on the computer/radio channel.  $15 a year.  Audio Baseball.  And that’s how it happened.  Life coming to me via the audio, and suddenly I started hearing voices.  And Winter Depression.  But that was just a few months ago, now it is Summer so they say.  Summer around here is not the way it is in most places.  Can you say, " Sky and Clouds."  Is Best if you can.  Relate to Cloud and Rain Spirits.  High Times.

Head games and now is the time, to get out more.  " Step away from the window."  A line from a movie I like to watch, where the bad guy says that, moments before he shots the asian-secret-spy-lady, who says, "I won’t scream."  And that just about tells you all you need to know.  I watch too many movies.  I live on my computer.  I have depression in winter and when it rains.  Which is most of the time, and is why they have a moving-lid on the baseball stadium where the Seattle Mariner’s play baseball.  No Rain Delays.  Just close the roof.  And so that’s how it is.  Inside too much.  Too dependent of books and computer to provide my entertainment.  And so when I say, "Have to get out more."  Its true.



Think positive.  It all begins at the water-hole.  From the mountains.  From the sky.  Find a place to die.  Water and Sky and the clouds are optional, like you and I, just passing though.  That one way to view this whole operation.  Terminal and that creates and destroys the live-forever-myth.  But from my experience, as long as I have been alive, here on earth, Cloud and Rain have influenced the landscape and the inhabitants, and that includes me.  When I get out more.  Remind myself, that is the center of this blog and theme:  Do something, get out more.  And if its not baseball and sitting and watching, what then? 




Rock and Water and Story.  Fundamental elements of a time before computers.  Lived in craters.  In eucalyptus forests.  Near a water-hole.  Wet and Tropical and Green Canopy.  And then what?  Noah’s Ark.  Curious as I weather the storm between winter and summer, and thought it all, it rains.  Horrible dreams I have.  Is a fragment of my reality, and revealing if I can keep the dream alive, and think about during the day.  Doing so is an art form, and a special way of being.  Cloud and Sky help me maintain clarity and vision.  I visually have witnessed something so compelling that it is easy for me to say,

"I have to get out more." 

 

And I blog about it, because?  For the instruction and entertainment of the children, is best to include outdoors and nature and animals.  And do it now, before they pave-over the entirety of it all, make it concrete and glass and phone towers.  As city repeats itself and makes copies of us all.  And surely this could never happen. And then I remember going to a NYC Yankee’s game and the experience reinforces what I been saying all along.  Listen to baseball on the radio.  Take a walk or a hike.  And think:  Cloud and Sky and Water. 

Coming down, as we speak.

THE CHOICE KIOSK

THE CHOICE KIOSK





I think I am on to something for me now.  I have been awake for 3 hours or so now.  My sight is blurry.  I am not pleased, but it could be much worse.  At the computer.  Blurry Vision.  And I have said since 1975, when things like this began to happen,

"Wait and See."

 Hoping Clarity and Vision would happen next. And am able to say now, " There are things we take for granted, and when they are impaired or missing, become of great importance."  Not sure that is profound, nor even original.  But gives me a basis for continuing on, and obtaining a focus and intent, while writing this blog.   I think it is essential just now, to set my priorities for what I am doing, and settle with my decision and the potential outcomes, I will meet with, on this day.  Will bundle what I have and call it:  The Choice Kiosk.  My blog for today.

I had a dream this morning, and I think I should not make this blog about that dream.  But it got me to thinking, and when you have dreams that redirect and reflect on the bigger picture of what’s going on in your day, you have to write about some aspect of it, for sanity’s sake.  I tell myself, "It’s all related.  Just spit it out."  And that is a starting point.  Choices and Consequence.  And so instead of referencing the dream I had, will instead tell you about something different, but for me, connected.  And hope its not too much of a circuitous journey extending into his blog, and making things difficult or unbearable.



 
I saw a movie on Tuesday and its effecting me and becoming part of this blog.  Movie Title:  ‘The East ‘.  I don’t want to spoil the movie for you, but will reflect on one scene that is dictating more thoughts for me, that are the basis for this idea:  The Choice Kiosk.  People sitting around a table, preparing for eating a meal.  One person was directed, "Please start."  And it was awkward , as this person had no idea how to proceed, and hence did their best.  Began eating.  After a while, it was obvious something was uncomfortable and unsuitable for the situation.  So then the others decided to eat and show how they would do it.  It was quite a different way to eat.  A contrast in behavior that was quite extreme.  

 


And so that is what I will say about the movie, but it left me with the general idea of a Choice Kiosk.  Nothing is at it seems.  And there are so many ways to proceed, each person and group has their own way.  And brings me to wonder.  In a democracy, how does it work that we reach a consensus agreement, when individual and local group choice can be so different and out of alignment.  And of course, the answer is simple.  Individual Choice.  Group Choice.  We take a reading on the choice made, and go from there.  In the case of the group, we take a vote and the majority rules.  Or so it seems.  Not sure there aren’t other factors in play, but common sense dictates:  Majority Rules.  Or possibly, when it comes to what individual’s do, all that matters is that we made a choice and will bear the responsibility for it.  Seems plausible enough.  

 
Now I am sitting in front of a Choice Kiosk.  Push a button and get something you seem to want at the moment.  And seeing all the options that are available on this particular day.  Kiosks for Self-Service, and I wonder.  Is this self-serving.  Could this get me in trouble?  With who?  And I think that is where I should stop for today.  Before I find myself in an airport.  On the run.  

 

Have a good day.  Choice Kiosk.  To be continued.  Partial and Incomplete.  And somewhat upsetting.  So much information available.  So many choices in play.  And oh so many in a democracy, having their say.  And then you go into the world-wide-web or to a movie and realize.  Where you live allows such-&-Such-behavior, but not every place does.  So be careful what you say or do.  Somebody is looking in on you, and its not your mother.  Let’s go with that.  And yes.  Have a good day.  Done.  Done.  Choice Kiosk.  

To be continued. 

CHiILANGA GIRL

CHILANGA GIRL

Nothing is as it seems.  I want to write about a new subject, without getting personal.  So will relate this to an anonymous fictional element of my mind, neither living or dead, but comes to life in this blog, because I mention it here.  Chilanga is the feminine aspect of the word, ‘Chilango’, which is Mexican slang  for residents of Mexico City.  So in some ways I am being redundant.  Chilanga is a feminine aspect.  So why do I add to it, and some will say, "…people just know."   Chilanga Girl is mostly a style point for me.  Filling in the empty spaces in my story.  

And it is a blog story.  A place to park a thought and a significant contribution to a blog I am writing.  Have picked this one to demonstrate survival of the fittest in its purest form.  Turns out I want to present Chilango Girl as someone who has shown a remarkable ability to adapt to her new surrounds.  That in itself could be the basis for this entire blog, but it isn’t.  Let me continue.

Changa Girl is a positive experience for me.  She has shown me how it is, and what must happen, as you grapple with new and difficult challenges.  Tackle the problem.  Linguistic.  No longer in a comfort zone.  Wonder if you are making enemies or just new friends with a hostile and aggressive approach.  And most of all, seek the human connection.  Came here for the love of it all.  We all need to feel love.  Be surrounded by it.  And yet, because its a time of extreme change, it almost seems we are saying, "On Hold.  NO time for Love."  

 

But that is why I am writing this blog.  Part of the story is that love must be eternal.  That no matter where we go, Love is there.  And that could be part of the challenge.  To believe that this might be so.  To find love on a crowded street.  And most of all to hold on to the essential passion that makes you, Chilanga Girl.

You can’t propose marriage to a fictional character.  Or can you?  New territory for me.  Falling in Love with a work of art or literary involvement.  Fictional and I will leave it at that.  But have on my mind, she could be the one.  Chilanga Girl.  Need to find a way to make her close to me.  Bring her into my top ten or Fav-5, or some designated way, so she knows how I feel about all this.  Top ranking.  Not sure I will ever know my connection to this person.  Comes across as well-grounded, but with feet on the earth in a most impressive way.  Fictional so I wonder if I will ever know how I feel about her.  But even so, is something I can enlarge and expand upon.  My feelings for Chilanga Girl.  And she looks at me and says in radical style, "Are you serious?"


 

Looking up from the page, I suggest:  "Don’t Criticize me."  Turf and Tribute.  I hope to make conquest here, and am of a stronger position, than she might be.  But don’t bet on it.  Powered by the passions of movement and a strong mind, Chilanga Girl is capable of going from zero to 60 mph in seconds.  Not sure how long it will take for her to know what I am , as she accelerates the chase or escape route.  


 

Author of the moment has an advantage over the fictional character he creates and writes about.  Plot Narrative.  And I hope for my sake, she isn’t putting words in my head, when I say, " You, I would marry."

 

Burning blue Aztec star etches on my personal memory, whenever I think of Chilanga Girl.  Not sure I have a chance to make all this coherent.  Its amazing when love hits you from every angle on the sidewalk.  I like it. Like a piano falling from a 7th Floor Balcony, and how I feel when it finally hits me.  9.8 on the Richter Scale. Earth-shaking and mind rattling, to say the lest.   How she makes me come to life.  Chilanga Girl with a foreign name living in an neighborhood, and almost believable.  Maybe it is the way he writes.  Brings fiction to life and convinces himself.  She is real.  I can see her in my mind’s eye.  I can almost describe what she is wearing.  Can almost smell the perfume and make comment about what I like most about her.  But just that thought stops me.  They are never the way you imagine them to be.  Life and we all have human flaws.  

 

So now I find myself tweaking the situation.  Do my best to cool down.  To find some realizable shade green and gray  and take a deep breath.  No sense losing my head over you.  Not real.  Blogger’s creation.  And that’s it.  Almost.  I must put a stop to this.  Tell myself.  "Chilanga Girl.  Unreal.  Forget about it. 

And while I am at it, I remind myself.  "Forget about it.  Damn Yankees.  Stop losing close games.  This drives me crazy." 

Chilanga Girl.

SKYWALKER

SKY WALKER 

This will be a blog about the fantasy of flight down the path of liberty and freedom.  What does it take.  And yes, what is it I am really doing.  Do I dare ask why?

Finally after months of soul searching, I have decided to do two loads of laundry.  Dirty Laundry.  Just had to make a decision and in my case, it was something simple.  Wash and Clean up the area where the dirty laundry seems to accumulate.  Something smells fishy in Denmark.  Do something?  When I was growing up, this was an insider’s joke at the morning breakfast table, when Dad would ask, "Well Dear, what are you going to do today?"  And usually, day in and day out, Mother would look down at her plate, say a silent prayer, and answer that standard and the expected.  "Taking care of my family.  Its my job."  And with that we would all disperse, none the wiser.  What mother’s really do.

 Something’s rotten in Denmark.  Certainly a period piece for me.  Humor, but not funny.  But in those days, we had no clue whose feeling we would hurt by doing full disclosure or saying such things.  Was a smaller world back then.  Now flash forward.  Mother is liberated.  Ask, "What are you doing today?", and mother’s reply is most certainly to be, "Going to work silly.  Women work for 40% less, and the men are just not what they use to be."  And that was suppose to be the answer.  Pay Attention.  Mother’s at work.  Not sure what Dad’s do any more.  Role Reversal.  Nothing is at it seems.  But nobody is really telling it like it is, and when you do.  Well, if current events are any indicator, men in flight and hence the name for this blog:

 Sky Walker. 

And am afraid to say much more.  The words that come to me, are conditional.  Based on who might be reading my email, or my blogs or listening to my phone calls.  At the moment its like asking mother what her day will be like.  You don’t want to know.  And so you just Sky Walk.  Take an upper.  In the clouds.  Flights of Fancy.  And when its time to land and go home, like mother in morning, you pray for something wonderful to happen.  At least that’s what mother did.  But we are older now.  Mother is at work.  I am not.

Monday.  After years of wondering, I decide.  This is Dirty Laundry Day.  Its a new day, obviously, when I change the pattern and just get busy.  Not concerned with what other’s do.  Don’t ask mother, "How will your day go?"  Instead, I go onto social media on the world wide web, and ask a total stranger.  And that’s how much my world has changed.  And when that doesn’t satisfy, I write a blog and wait.  That might be the truth, but then again.  It’s all alleged.  Questionable.  Clever Flight.  An exercise in imaginative foreplay.  Without consideration of the future.  I just do things.  Oblivious.  And after a busy weekend, I decide.  This is Dirty Laundry Day.




Have something on my mind today?  Want to apologize to mother and all others I might have hurt, by asking or saying:  

"Some thing is rotten in Denmark." 

 I have learned my lesson now.  Years later.  Major changes updated and designed to keep me out of trouble.  Won’t say it as it is, but rather, do like they do.  Put it out there, but with a lot of qualifiers.  Let people pick and choose.  Blow Smoke.  Drink Liquor or Water.  Or like I do.  Just drift away.  And when I return, face the music and the consequences for what I do.  Hence, Dirty Laundry Day.  Now I am older and wiser now.  I say, "Some thing is rotten in (Denmark )  ( Hong Kong )  ( Moscow ) ( Venezuela ) (Cuba ) ( USA ) and perhaps Ecuador. "  But then and even now,   I venture to say.  "I am aware of the risks." 

 " I love the freedom of the skies."  If you are not happy where you are, move."  So it seems that is how it was for some.

Moving day.  And want to express my sorrow when I learned that over the weekend.  The Chicago Blackhawks hockey team beat the Boston Bruins in the 3rd game of the Stanley Cup Finals.  But wait there is more.  There was out in weekend-world - somewhere,  an air show.  And it didn’t turn out so pretty.  Remember this is Dirty Laundry Day.  So I am just putting it out there.  Stunt Pilot and Wing Walker.  One was a man.  The other a woman.  Equal opportunity.  And something terribly wrong happened.  An accident.  Alleged.  Questionable.  Clever Flight.  As I am to understand.  Both died.  In a fiery crash.  Crash and Burn.
Like mother, getting the day started:
"Let’s say a prayer.  For Peace and Redemption."
Amen.

So what have I learned from watching mother, noticing Sky Waker, and Picking One.  Gender indifferent now.  Mother and I hardly speak.  She works.  Brings home the money.  I pay attention.  We agree.  "Don’t ask.  Don’t tell."  Lost years.  And want to say just one more thing.  Not sure where this blog will end.  Probably Ecuador.  But for now, want to say that Luke Skywalker of Hollywood fame, was a legendary war hero who helped defeat the bad-boy-regime.  And if you ask, "Dear Sir, who is that?"  I will say.  Pick One.  I am not at liberty to tell.  But for now, I do write a blog.  Have Monday and it is my Dirty Laundry Day. 

And do confess.  Its only twice a year.  Otherwise, I throw the rotten and decaying part of me into the laundry basket.  There it sits.  Waiting for something to happen.  And that’s it.  Post Traumatic Stress.  Despite the risks.  Its the manly thing to do.  But in this day and stage of development there are risks.  Alleged.  Questionable.  Clever Flight.  Ecuador. 

Have a good day.  Now drinking tea.  Folding laundry.  And getting ready to ask mother, " Describe what you most loved about being young, and having your family around you?"  At the breakfast table.  At the break of day. 

FLASH POINT

FLASH POINT

I am willing to reconcile our differences.  Not talk about The Middle East and Arming Syria.  For me it is not about the Bad Guys, or perpetual war.  Leave that up to those in the-Other-Washington.  But have come into the day with consciousness spelling out:  Flash-point, and now am in a position to discover what that has to do with me.  So reading from Wikipedia that the flash point of a volatile material is the lowest temperature at which it can vaporize to form an ignitable mixture in air.  



 
And so I do expect a lot of light today.  Super Moon, which is just another way of saying, "If you look out as the sun goes down, you will see the brightest full moon, ever."  Probably an exaggeration, but it bends the light in the direction that might illuminate both you and I.  And that is how I am willing to reconcile our differences.  No matter how volatile.




Jump.  Skip.  Hop.  Pesky movement everywhere and I notice, if I just had more information, maybe I could make a better choice for all the options available to me, on this day.  Am thinking I would like to spend an enjoyable day with you.  But then it becomes clear, its not just about me and what I want.  Dealing with the idea of differences, brings me to know, its not just about me, it has to do with you, also.  And this is a blog.  Where do we start.  So many of us.  So diverse. If we start talking, the conversation could go anywhere.  Beyond my thoughts and control, and when that happens.  Am I ready.  So just now picking out one word and thought and going with it.  Volatile.  When do we reach the Flash Point?  Does it matter?  Will we survive it and reach the end of this blog in a good mood.  That is what I hope to do.  Jump.  Skip.  Hop.  From here to the end.  With you , dear reader not far behind.

The keyword that leads me on is Volatile.  Volatile market.  Its the economy stupid.  Oh how rude.  So we agree, let’s not talk about money, but if you have gone shopping recently and want to share that, I agree.  Let’s sit down.  Have tea or coffee or better yet, "I will have what he or she is drinking"  Then move on.  Volatile Week.  Why say that?  Not sure I have time to put the week into review, but if that’s what you want to put into this blog, details about your week, well then:  I am listening.  Do tell.  Tis my momentary commitment to join with you, talk and then say,

"Gotta Go.  Volatile in every way.  Expecting a Flash Point soon.
 And a very bright moon in a darkening sky."

Now that’s where I think I am.  Doing the flip-flop.  Starting to separate from you.  Creating some distance.  Hoping to change the subject.  But mostly its about having a good day.  Having some fun.  Finding the Light of A Super Moon.  Not sure I am into all the hype.  Super this and Super that.  Thinking we should all just calm down.  Let people away from me fight.  If that’s what they do, and so far it seems all over, that’s what they do.  Perpetual War.  Actual and state of mind.  And volatile as that might be, I wonder.  Is this how I want to spend my day?  And reach the conclusion.  "Definitely not."



 
Its June.  Let’s talk about something on the lighter side.  Make me laugh.  Summer weekend plans.  Now that’s a kickoff starter.  How is your local baseball team doing?  As for my team, Seattle Mariners, not so much.  Playing and its volatile.  Flash Point soon to be reached, and somebody will lose their job, if they know what makes things better.  Apparently not.  Been a long time.  Bad baseball in Seattle.  Just say that.  And so now what is it we like:  sweltering heat.  Beautiful flowers.  Sweet smell of success over the bar-b-que, cooking for our friends?  Wonder what it is you do, to have fun.  Ignoring all the rest.  Volatile.  And Flash Point.  

 
And all the darkness.  Super Moon or just full moon that is very close to you.  Seems that’s the way to go, the path of light, on the way to creek or river, lake or sea.  Getting out.  Taking your fishing rod with you.  Night fishing in full light, without the bugs.  Sounds like fun.  Please join me.  Is ok to bring your own fireworks and excitement.  Cold beer if you want to carry it.  I have my hands full.  And smoky barbecue for you or for the fish.  I am not picky.
 Bait and Switch.  Not sure.  



 

Depends if I am having fun by the time we get to where we are going. It’s been a long conversation.  A long blog.    Me in long shirt and sprayed to defend against the obstacles of the night, and you in brand new bikini, just purchased at the mall. Showing skin.    Having a night out.  Under The Light Of The Moon.  Having fun.  Well, maybe.  Volatile.  Flash Point.  Smoking Gun.  Who knows.  Big World.  And we need to attend to our differences.  Around the planet. 
Where you are.

YOUR - BOTTOM- LINE

YOUR-BOTTOM-LINE

Was thinking about how we must adapt and adjust to have a more sustainable world.  And how compromise and movement relocates our train of thought, even our habits and patterns.  Was thinking about the French Rivera and how much bang for my buck I could get in Côte d'Azur.  From Anglais to French and back in 60 seconds and I suddenly realize I need to tighten my approach and be right on target, instead of targeting millions with an automated program, seeking numbers and information, in hope of having at least one opportunity to stop Ivan The Terrible.  The names change, but and now I need some help.  Nothing is original for long. 


 

Trippin’ and I need a trip adviser.  Where am I going with all of this.  White powder up my slopes.  Smoke from the bong.  Not sure I need to go to France, to get my fill of alternative-b.  Need a 3rd opinion.  Ask Joe Friday.  As Joe Friday on Dragnet said- "The names change, but the faces remain the same".  Let’s face it, I need some help, but I am in the trust nobody mode this week.  Wanted to call this blog:



Your Bottom.   Your Line.     Your Bottom-line.

They think I might have ADD or the other term:

 ADHD.  I never stop moving, 


 

Neither my hands and feet and all my thoughts, constantly in motion.  Hyperactivity Disorder, and its not because I am paranoid and trying to outdistance the automated program and dragnet that is tracking me.  Hunter and Prey and was not even going to talk about that, except that this week its the top story everywhere.  But not really.  Its old news that the surveillance society is in full gear.  What is it?  Let me tell you a story, and that is what they do.  Make up a headline.  Create a Cover.  Draw attention.  Turn Heads.

 

And then forget about it.  If you become obsessed and think its all about you and your phone number and what you say to others on the phone or internet, well it is you and not them that has a problem.  Mulling this over, I did ask.  How Can one like me get help.  And that’s when I started thinking about The French Rivera.  Cashing in my hopes and dream and my frequent flyer points, and walking the beach or a straight line into oblivion, where I can put all my concerns and fears to rest.  But even that, pushed me off course.  And all I could think about was Crossing The Red Line.  And wondered,

"Would I be forgiven?"

Suddenly I could see myself on the beach, in bikini or some revealing summer wear.  And decided its not anybody else but me, in this position and place.  Spy on me.  Look me over.  Listen to conversations.  "Woe is me.  I am getting fat.  Had the good life and sitting at a computer, longer than I should."  And what is the results of all that.  Your Bottom.  And quickly I realized this was more real to me than the government storing my meta-data, just in case.  And that’s where I find myself in the present moment.  A little worried that I have been deceived, and misdirected.  That my life has gotten out of balance.  That I need a little help.  And she walks up to me, saying:  "How may I help you?  Its obvious you speak no French."  And that’s when I realized.  I was on a nude beach.  

And they were watching me.


 

At first it was a shock to me.  Meta-Data check.  I thought it might be the end-of-the-world for me.  Rounded up, put in a boxcar, and never heard of again.  But then I realized, that’s not really the situation that concerns me most.  Its my appearance.  I want people to think I am smart.  Look Smart.  I want people to think I am handsome or cute or pretty.  Pick one.  I want to be in summer and on a beach somewhere.  Having fun.  Not at my desk, worrying if the boss is watching me and evaluating me for some-kind-of-disorder.  So that’s where I am.  On The Red Line.  Should I cross it.  Will I develop some kind of nerve disorder if I do.  And that brings me to the part in the blog, where I need to discuss:  Your Line.  Does it matter what color it is.  I cross the line.  Suddenly I am on the Nude Beach part of the coastline.


 

And now I know from first hand experience.  This is not where I want to be.  Your Bottom.  Your Line.  My Bottomline.  I don’t want to be in your shoes, when that’s all we are decked out with.  On the beach.  Crossed the line.  Turning Red.  Very Hyper.  Under The Sun and Microscope.  Not my day for surveillance programs.  Feeling The Heat.  And over-exposure.  Imagine that.