Nine Inches Deep

Nine Inches Deep

Every day and the day after reflects what I am.  True only if there is a lasting record of The I - Am.

Gets me to thinking what is missing, is more than just one hour. 

 " May I have an hour of your time."  

He said.

"Certainly Not."  

Was the reply.

And now its up to me to come up with something to explain this, only because I have the space and one more picture to share with you. 

Have decided the connection can be measured, but not by me.  

Will leave it up to you.  Missing  You.

Missing an hour in just one day.

Is this serious?  

 

 This is one of those days and weekend periods, where I have burned up my options in watts and decibels, and not to say that my world has become Dark Comedy, or dim and shadowed by the facts, namely that this is when in America where I live, the clocks are turned back by only one hour, and its just something we learn to live with, light and depth and how deep does it go to throw off the circadian rhythm of the body and of the individual and of the planet, and then the universal net results of man-made conventions and devices?   

Not something I have devoted a lifetime of study to, so mere mentioning of The Turn Back or The Turn Off at the side of the road, and beyond that the ditch and the pitch, and this maybe is all I hope to accomplish today.  Choose my words carefully.  Keep a narrow focus and try to not step on anybody’s feet or feelings or sensibilities.  But even then, it is just not my style to think of what I am doing and how I am impacting others.  Jump up on the caster wheeled chair and hope to gain enough stability to reach up and out and tinker with the clock. 

 

Not wanting to reinvent the time piece and might be revealing skeletons in my closet, namely that I still have clocks in my residence and they are not digital and self-correcting.   Modern and it might not matter much any more, what happens to the animals down on Old McDonalds' Farm, when an hour is missing and a robot arm fills the ground or feeding trough with a measured amount of food.  Who has time for that, speculating on the impact of removing an hour from a year filled with so many. 

 

Not a real question, but something contrived to handle the small talk when at the break table at work and somebody asks, “So how did it go?”  And is small talk and non-specific, but is part of the situation to know what others are talking about.  And is what I was thinking about when I asked myself, "....“how should I respond?”  In this case I am still on the topic of messing around, and flicking a switch or turning a nob, but it is different for me this year.  I don’t care.  And for many reasons this could be valid  for me but not for you. 

 

But will I really take up the small space I dedicate to blog sharing, to something others Twitter or Facebook or Media-Share.  Comes with the territory, wondering where you are today, both physically or mentally.  Comes with self-inspection and coming within shouting distance of something I need to know.  How to fill the space of a missing hour and how to find the bridge or bridges that fill the gap, between you and I.  

 

How deep do I need to go, to repair or fix or just neutralize the situation I find myself in.  Not really a question, as I know the answer.  Now I need to relate it to something blogger might be interested in.  Say that, because it is known, we are not all in the same place, nor time zone, nor state of mind.  So what is that universal equalizer so that we are all in the same moment and can relate, to both what is going on and what is being said,  or more to the point what is going on in Stoney Blogger’s head.  

And I repeat.  What is the point of just one missing hour in his day.  And if you want to talk about your wife or children or the new car acquired in that missing hour, then figuring out the importance of his stuff and not yours, might enter the data flow and decision point.   

 

Bouncing back to the title and focusing on all of this before we find, its gone and its over.  No second chance.  How important is it, those things you wanted to tell me, how important is it now?  Importance and serious, he thinks about turning the clock back, a bit too much.  Where you live, they don’t do this.  They leave the light and the mechanism for discernment alone.  This might be ideal.  This might be what he wants.  But we react differently.  We do things differently.  His concerns are not necessarily the center of your universe.  Taking all that into consideration he asks, “How deep do we go?”  And he says before the hour goes missing.  

“Nine Inches Deep.”

Black Tie Spinach

Black Tie Spinach

Watching baseball and already I am ready to  multi-task.  Kansas City and Toronto and am waiting for somebody to win, so we can get on to it.  As you know, there are so many mini-playoffs to come up with the final teams for the World Series.  Tired of it long ago, as these are complicated schemes to sell more tickets and keep people biding up the price of product.  America’s game and yes its still more business than sports, but then again I am not complaining. 

 

Now for an update.  Time has passed, and it is clear:  New York METS and Kansas City begin world series play tonight.  So the waiting is over and the week will pass quickly, as I watch The Boys of Summer do their thing in winter.  Pleases me for such contrast, and I will be in front of a Home Theater Big Screen.  Insulated.  As is the modern way , in sports and war.  We muddle through.

 

Mostly I am trying to find something to do that interests me, play through my Friday night, and doing it with style.  Style is the point of this blog.  Went out food gathering today and put my findings on the kitchen counter.  “What’s in the bag?”  I was asked.  Not sure if I was being funny, or just in a funny mood and said the first thing that popped into my mind.  “Black-Tie Spinach.” I said. 

 

So now I am somewhere out in Left Field and multi-tasking as if it is an important thing to do.  My mind is a series of screens, with radio in the background telling me about the baseball game.  Part of all this is my confusion with the way things are.  Complicated enough to have me jumping from one thing to another, I let the moon come and go through my backyard window.

 

Not about what we are having for dinner, nor is it much about hot dogs and pop and baseball.  More than anything it is a blend of my everyday routine and reality-based-everything-else.  Perhaps at the end of this blog, it will be perfectly clear.  But probably not.  Black-Tie Spinach is where this all starts.  What follows is a corruption of a perfect recipe that works in a gourmet kitchen, but more than likely will not be served on TV trays.  And that is where the confluence sweeps me away.  White water tide flats and   find myself drifting to the surface of a subject that I want to discuss.  Black-Tie Spinach.  “What’s in the bag?”

 

I think it is dangerous to speculate.  Winner emerges after seven games and the beauty of the arrangement is that we can celebrate and cheer for another year.  Why let what you are eating spoil that.  Crystal clear.  Debunking Winter Baseball is not where its at.  What follows is my version of social hour. 

 

Thinking it all begins with serving up something you are willing to pay for.  And that is where I enthusiastically say, “Wow.”   Big country and now global.  Global warming and climate change, and to state a fact, growing marijuana in Washington State is legal, if of course you follow the law and are reporting the process and the money being made.  Along the way, many put their hands into the ground, for simplicity sake I will call this:  Ground Zero.

 

Not sure that when we passed the law, we thought it through completely.  Now we are living the dream and for many there is relief, as they will no longer be arrested for carrying around, “What’s in the Bag.”   How we get from grass roots growth and harvesting, to talking about what is in the pot, we know that as things go, it is an election year and there is fund raising, and where I live there is new revenue sources and of course billionaires.  More than one and that makes us a destination spot. 

So it is not far-fetched that the people come and go, looking for a contribution.  That is when I start to talk about my life and food gathering and Black Tie Spinach.  But mostly it is just conversation.  The family is accustomed to hearing about slugs and fish drying in the backyard and what we did at work today.  , It is important to remember,  this is a simple place and located far enough away that we still do strange things and nobody really cares.

 

Not sure that I am able to write this blog the way I write memos to myself.  Wide audience and is international, so if the point is to appeal to the readership and they are all over the place, then it seems logical that I have to create a few guidelines and follow them.  Hence, I wonder if it matters what I serve up on any given day. 

 

Hamburgers or Black Tie Spinach or dried fish, and when you ask and get the answer you are hoping for, you come back.  “What’s in the bag.”   Amusing when he replies, “Black Tie Spinach.”, and all this is new.  Have decided that we can talk about the local variations of all of this in the comment field.  As if all of this is following guidelines and a script, we are limited by our proximity and what state we are in. 

 

Where Stoney is, it is legal to have both chicken and home grown weed in the same pot.  Hybrid variety and local flavor.  Knowing this it is not strange to be reading a blog like this.  Not turned off by the mention of Black Tie Spinach, as much as just not familiar with it the way it is served at Stoney’s house.

 

In the end it is good to know  that this is 2015 and it is an election year.  Can’t really say too much about war and religion and politics, but even with that restriction looming, it is suffice to say that stoney finds a way to capture your attention, that it is fun to see what’s cooking and what might be in the pot.  Hybrid existence is what stoney is showing us, and he is proud to let you know. 

“Its legal.”    

 

Big screen entertainment and having people over to enjoy it.  Bring something to drink, and Stoney will do the rest.  Have plans and it all begins with Black Tie Spinach, and what ever else is in the bag.  “What’s in the bag?”   she asks.  And he replies.  “It’s a surprise.  Just come over.  World Series starts tonight.  $10 a plate dinner.  It will be fun.  Black Tie Spinach and a lot more.  Hybrid servings and they are big. No worries.”

Matter Of Time

A Matter Of Time

It is just a matter of time and what concerns me today, Saturday in October 2015 will sort itself out and just fade away.  My optimism about such things is helped out by a little chardonnay at breakfast, sizzling bacon and an overdose of multiple vitamins, which my doctor says is old fashion.  Nobody takes multiple vitamins.”  He said.  I don’t believe him, but hey.  Respect the right to have your own thoughts and opinion.  I am from that school of orientation.  As for what keeps me on my game, it’s a personal thing and each body has its own rules for optimal operations.  It is but a matter of time and I will be starting over, without a body to keep me contained.  The universe will be my home and my neighbors a pile of dust off the edge of Saturn.  How good is that.  It is just a matter of time that I will lose my mind and the truth just is.

 

A matter of time gives hope to the idea that there is a temporary solution to all the things that concern me today.  Not much on my mind today, as it is Saturday and my –give-it-a-rest day.  Seems off if you consider a busy Saturday for most, what with grocery shopping and chores and not being at work.  Not sure what it is I want to convey in this blog.  Will give it some thought and come back with answers and content, once the morning wine and bliss is just a fading memory.

Started with 3 blog titles during this week, but didn’t get around to completing any of them.  Now it is the weekend and I have a lull in activity.  Now I have leisure time and nothing forcing me to make crucial choices.  Tomorrow is football day, and I get so distracted, and writing or thinking or just being serene and focused is all but impossible.  So if it happens now, this makes me happy.  Blogs happen over time, and can be  like a long conversation.  I do ask myself if all my blogs sounds the same, and aren’t really isolated or differentiated by title or topic.  Suspect that it is just a matter of time, when the novelty of it all wears off, and it is second or first nature, to click on and move on and maybe not even return.

 

So much material and so many sources for content, and it just a matter of time before we are replaced, as the favorite flavor in our cupboard of tastes.  Have been doing all of this for a long time now, and I am good with the very notion of obsolescence.  Is why I am enjoying my retirement years without forcing myself to write another book.  If I write, it might come down to be the last remaining trace of the things we did in our prime, like writing something that could be published commercially.  Truth is the writing always came first.  Making money was something that happened as part of the process.

 

I have 3 manuscripts that I tell myself,  I should complete, and tell myself to master the discipline to repeat how it was, just yesterday.  But I don’t have my priorities in the proper order to do serious writing, from beginning to end.  And yes,  have substituted a lot of blogging for serious writing, and so it is.  Happens, and it is just a matter of time, until we make peace with such things.  And I have.

 

The way things are going for me, has me saying; “ I am blessed.”  And will leave it that way, without fouling the air with too much detail.  Am happy that The New York Mets are playing for a World Series Baseball title.  Of course there is another team involved and it is a sports event, with lots of gambling going on.  Pick a favorite and wage some money, is the process that goes along with an event of this size and nature.  Human nature to have a favorite and let it show.  Has been a long season and now is time to just let it show.  Two best teams playing for bragging rights, and anybody who follows Stoney blogger over time, knows:  Sports Nut.  But before this is over I will say.  “Good Luck METS.”   Now am having flashbacks to 1969.

 

1969 and am now wondering why this has importance for me.  Too long ago to be part of today’s conversation in 2015.  So what that the NY Mets are playing in the World Series.  It happens, so don’t dominate the conversation with things we are not interested in.  Point taken, but I am not off-track and will tie it in to this blog theme, by saying:  “Its just a matter of time.”   Eventually he returns to a stream of consciousness that includes the past-the present-and the future as one expression.   So NY Mets and the Mets win the world Series.  World Champions and it remains a favorite benchmark in the passage of events and time.  Get over it.  But its not that simple.

 

I won’t elaborate nor bore you with too much detail.  1969 and America was working its way through an involvement in VietNam.  Old hat, much like Iraq and middle east involvements of the last 25 years.  So its only important because I was busy normalizing my life, getting educated and settling in with love and marriage and looking optimistically to something other than America in War.  Matter of Time and I would see the pattern.  But even back then I had an escapist mind and mentality.  So I made a big deal about The METS winning  the 1969 World Series.

 

And here I am years later on a serene Saturday day of rest, experiencing a flashback.  Doing so without triggering agonizing trauma.  Have enough instances of all of this and the experience to just let it go, if it turns out to be too much.  Baseball and New York teams.  Yes this could trigger agonizing trauma for the rest of America, who have no true interest in all things East of the Hudson River.   And so it is time to change the subject.  World Series and October Baseball.  “Change The Channel.”  She said.

Is how I will end this blog.  But first I wanted to tell you this.  1969 Major League Baseball season was celebrated as the 100^th anniversary of professional baseball.    And did you know, the Miracle Mets became the first expansion team to win a pennant?  No big deal now, but back then I was trying to erase the imprints of war around me, and make myself think that anything was possible.  And so will stop with that thought at the top.  Be optimistic.  Good things are possible.  2015.   Now wait for it.   Its just a matter of time.  More proof.  Life is good.