Thursday, June 30, 2011

Happy Fourth

When College Dude and Media Girl were still young children, our home was the gathering place for extended family on the Fourth of July.  A day of swimming and barbecued food was capped by a column of children marching around our yard to the music of John Phillips Sousa.  Each child had a kazoo to toot, a flag to wave, and a cardboard hat of red, white, and blue. The parade ended with "legal" fireworks - cardboard tanks, smoke bombs, and sparklers.

Those days are long past with all of the nieces and nephews having moved on to their own lives, but the Fourth of July remains a day to reflect on the value of family and the gift of freedom.

Whatever stage of evolution you're family is in, I wish you a Happy Fourth of July!!

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Thoughts About You

Busy day - so I'll share this brief reflection:

The next time you find yourself worrying about what someone might think about you...

Remember the only opinions that matter are those your friends have..

And if they're really your friends you don't need to worry about what they're thinking.

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Telling What to Who?

I noticed a Pro-Life (anti-abortion) banner hanging on a chain link fence. The fence was at one end of a high school athletic field.

Maybe I'm missing something, but it seems to me the advertiser has mismatched the message and the audience.

Shouldn't the message to high school students be about avoiding having to make an abortion choice in the first place?

I'm thinking maybe banners for chastity belts and steel codpieces would be more appropriate.

Monday, June 27, 2011

The Smell of Citronella

Citronella - the smell that screams summertime and sends skeeters screaming into the night - supposedly.

Of late it seems to me that those buzzing, blood sucking insects have become immune to, and perhaps even learned to savor the smell of citronella.

Or maybe it's just that my blood has fermented over the years and the bouquet now overrides the citronella barrier.

I'm told if I plant Marigolds around my patio, the smell of those flowers will deter mosquitos. As I see it, the problem then becomes I have more garden space to weed.

Perhaps if I planted Marigolds and poured hot citronella wax on the weeds...

Sunday, June 26, 2011

The Next Step

As a movie progresses in the unveiling of one scene after another, so do we progress in life by stepping from one stone to the next.

College Dude and Language Lass took such a step this weekend. The energy they generated in moving to the next phase in their life was such that it drew nearly a hundred people along with them.

The newly opened door led to a grotto shaded by a tree that has witnessed the passing of some ten generations and sweetened by tumbling water that has nurtured those same generations and more. There, in that place of ages, College Dude and Language Lass became man and wife.

A score of people witnessed the exchange of personalized vows that will be heard over and over again in the splashing of the waterfall and the rustling of leaves. For the emotion filling that grotto this past Saturday evening was such that it will remain a part of the land forever.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Of Music and Youth

There are those times when the cosmic gods smile and everything comes into alignment.

Times when I find myself alone in the house, the lighting is dim, the sound system is turned up to 387 decibels and the music becomes - a physical thing. It is at such moments that I enter the music as though I were stepping into a room. Rather than four walls I found myself surrounded by base notes, vocals, drum beats, and guitar chords.

The everyday world is gone, driven away by the same vibrations that run through the floor, into my feet, and up through my body. It is a special and wondrous opportunity that I know will be all too fleeting.

As I look at what I have just typed (while the music pulses around me) I find myself saying:  My god did I really just write that? It sounds like something that would have spilled from my mouth in my late teens.

... And I realize that music just might be the fountain of youth.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Got'ta Love the Name

Rumpelstiltskin. You've got to love the name. Can you imagine learning to spell that name in the first grade? You would have to memorize half the alphabet.

Was that his last name or first I wonder?  It was long enough that perhaps it counted for both. Though for some reason I can't help thinking Theodopolous came into play.

Theodopolous Rumpelstiltskin. With a name like that I'd have gone into hibernation too.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Step Right Up

Drum roll please.

Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome to the first day of summer.

Step right up and enjoy the show as the Star of our festivities dazzles you with more light than you'll see in any other single day.

Don't forget to ogle the liquid and digital displays of those dedicated to presenting the temperatures as they labor to hold themselves above the eighty degree mark solely for your benefit.

No ladies and gentlemen, those are not manufactured smells that are tickling your olfactory nerves. Those euphoria producing odors come from nothing less than the bulbs and seeds that exhibit herculean strength in supporting greenery and flora many times their own weight.

Truly the day is full or marvels you won't want to miss. Hurry up boys and girls, time's a wastin'. Push your way through those doors and marvel at the great outdoors.  Though it seems the day will last forever, the curtain must fall eventually.

Monday, June 20, 2011

Roadside Deer

It happened during my bike ride this evening. I was pedaling along checking out the flora and fauna when my attention was captured by a doe standing at the roadside some seventy feet ahead. I was in a sub division so it wasn't like the deer had been camouflaged by a treeline. There was a significant amount of grassy area to all sides of her (except for the street of course). Which made me wonder how I could not have seen the deer sooner.

Apparently the doe was wondering the same thing for she was staring at me as though I had just descended from the heavens. 

Deciding the best course of action was just to keep pedaling, I got close enough to see the deer's nostril twitching and her rear flanks tighten. With my own eyes locked on the black saucer-like eyes of the deer I thought perhaps I would get right up beside her.

Twenty feet, fifteen feet, ten... and then the doe simply wasn't there anymore. I never saw her eyes so much as blink, never saw her head turn away from me, yet somehow she was halfway to the distant trees before I could cover those last ten feet.

Had I blinked? I could have sworn not but obviously I had. Yet how, in a single blink, could the deer have covered forty feet?

Though I was disappointed not to have actually made it to within touching distance, I was thrilled to have come so close.

Sunday, June 19, 2011

The 400 Year Miracle

The Virginia license plate on the car in front of me had included something about 2007 being the 400th birthday of Jamestown.

And I got to thinking about how in only 400 years American's have gone from log huts with earthen floors to cell phones and personal computers.

As a kid, 400 years seemed an eternity to me. Now that I'm fifty-some years of age, I'm looking at 400 years being only a couple of generations.  Now I realize that in the days of early Jamestown a generation could come and go in 40 years. But if the average lifespan from then to now had been consistently 75 years, well - that would put crossing the Atlantic in sailing ships only four generations prior to crossing space in a rocket powered shuttle.

Looked at in that light, mankind's accomplishments are nothing short of miraculous.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Sweet Blooms

One hundred and five blooms on the plants, one hundred and five blooms, bend deep down and...inhale... one hundred and five blooms on the plants.

The Easter lilies in my garden are in full bloom with some plants displaying four and five blossoms. The air around the lilies is heavy with a fragrance so sweet it seems I could take a bite out of the very air and be energized by a sugar rush.

No wonder bees spend so much of their time buzzing within blossoms.  To a bee, diving into a recently opened blossom must be like a person falling into a vat of of M & M's. And if an average flower is attractive to a bee them, it seems to me, the nectar within an Easter lily must be the equivalent of rich gourmet chocolate - or perhaps a spoonful of straight-up maple syrup.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Mirror on the Wall

Tonight's writing class tapped out my creative inspiration so I'm going to cheat here and reuse something I started in class:

Margaret stared into the mirror and watched as swollen fingers explored the creases in her face. Not her fingers. The fingers of a stranger. Her fingers were slender and smooth, not miniature sausages. Now that she thought about it, the face wasn't her's either. Oh, the face was attached to her body - sure enough- but it failed to reflect the still girlish personality that was the real Margaret.

"You did this to me," she said to her husband. "You infected me with children who grew up and stole my last nerve. And what did you do to stop those crimes? Nothing."

Her husband said nothing of course. Margaret would have died on the spot if he had. Once again she considered what the total taxidermy bill had been.  Once again she assured herself the stuffing of her husband had been worth every penny.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Jogging Priorities

I've always considered jogging to be a questionable pursuit and have often stated the only time anyone would see me running farther than 100 feet would be if a carnivorous wild animal was hot on my heels.

During my drive home tonight I spotted a decidedly human form make a running dash from the shoulder to the grassy meridian of a divided four lane highway. After a pause to wait for a break in traffic coming from the north, the person hurried across another two lanes of asphalt.

The average vehicle speed on this particular highway is sixty-miles-per hour. As mine was one of the cars heading south at that speed, I was closing on the sprinter fairly quickly. By the time the running man reached the safety of the shoulder, I was near enough to make out all the details of his - jogging suit.

Just beyond the shoulder of the road was an athletic field. After putting two and two together I really had to question the priorities in the jogger's mind. How does one weigh the health benefits of running laps around a football field against the health risks of dashing across four lanes of high speed traffic and decide the benefits outweigh the risks? Cause when you really come down to it the options are - come home tired and sweaty or don't come home at all.

Personally, I'd go for option 3 - the cold beer

Monday, June 13, 2011

Flying on Wheels

There's nothing quite like coasting downhill on a bike. Wind rushing past your ears, shirttail flapping in the wind, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. It's the closest to thing to flying without leaving the ground.

The problem of course is that at some point you have to go back up that hill.

While the hills in my area are not as steep as those found in the northern end of the state, I was enjoying an effortless bike ride propelled by the winds on the leading edge of a cold front.  At the farthest end of my circuit I turned -  and caught the wind head on.

I immediately downshifted, then downshifted again, and yet another time. When realization hit that first gear was as low as I could go, the mile-and-a-half in front of me suddenly seemed like five. I was forced to admit that at fifty-four years of age a bike ride wasn't what it used to be.

The idea of the after-dinner excursion was exercise, but a moped was looking like a really good investment, 

Sunday, June 12, 2011

Leopard Warrior

I hadn't fully wakened from my afternoon catnap. That could be the only explanation for what I was seeing.

On a sunny afternoon with temperatures in the high 80's and humidity giving the air the appearance of a gauze curtain, there was no rational reason for someone to be clad in heavy robes.  And yet the man approaching me looked like a Mongolian warlord who had just washed up on the Delaware shore.

While hundreds of others stood at the water's edge in bathing suits and shorts, this one man was covered head to toe in a leopard skin robe and matching wide-brimmed hat. He strode with a purpose that had the folds in the bottom half of the robe billowing. The hat, a leopard skin dome with a wide brim of feathers fluttering in the hot afternoon air currents, looked like something pulled from the closet of Zsa Zsa Gabor.

The man's wife - or perhaps concubine - scurried along at the man's side like a Chihuahua trying to keep up with a Great Dane. Her skinned glistened with the perspiration of her efforts.  If she were that hot in her bathing suit, I could only guess at the rivulet's of sweat that must have been running beneath the man's robes.

I never saw the unlikely couple make a return trip back up the beach. I suppose it was the leopard warrior's intent to drive ever onward taking no prisoners.

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Debt Ceiling

I got my car back from the repair shop today - and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little disappointed. The loaner car I'd been given was a vehicle with all the bells and whistles: leather seats, an A/C system with a setting for subzero, state of the art sound system, sunroof, and about twenty button-controlled options I really never had a chance to explore. The only thing missing was a personal masseuse.

The loaner vehicle was something I could live in. So great was my longing I actually looked into the price - which was way out of my range.  Unless...

I e-mailed Motivated Mom saying I needed to her to cast a vote.

For what? she asked.

I replied, To increase our debt limit.

Her lack of a response made it obvious I needed to explain in more detail.

We vote, I call the bank and tell them to approve a loan we can't possibly repay for twenty years. When the bank questions me I'll tell them our household financial oversight committee voted to increase our debt ceiling - so now we can legally move forward with borrowing the funds required to purchase a car we can't afford.

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Time Slip

It's gonna be a hot one out there today.

The words coming through the speakers of the car radio were familiar - but the timing was all wrong.

August is when I expect to hear the helpful suggestions about staying inside an air conditioned building, drinking lots of water, and planning outdoor activities for early morning and evening.

So what's with the heat warnings in June?  Has time slipped?  Did the recent earthquakes hopscotch us through a season?  Will chilly temperatures return in September rather November?

Time will tell I suppose. Just to be on the safe side, I better squeeze in some extra beach time.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Car Zen

It always seems car problems happen at the worst possible time.  So on my way home from work today I was actually pleasantly surprised that my car decided to start misbehaving a mere seven miles from the dealership.

The service team was very attentive when I came coasting in, but I was feeling less than optimistic when three different service specialists scratched their heads and said  Never saw THAT happen before. Ultimately it was decided the car would need to be remain with the service center for diagnostics.

And while Motivated Mom was less than thrilled that my car issues cost her a 45 mile drive to rescue me from the dealership, we did end up having a pleasant dinner at a nearby dining establishment.

So in the end it was all Zen.  No one was hurt, no one missed work, and no one had to cook dinner.

Monday, June 6, 2011

Of Cars and Geese

It was not the way I wanted to start the workweek - sitting in stalled traffic. Cars were coming from the opposite direction as sporadically as vehicles in front of me were advancing. The knowledge that both sides of the road shared the hold up did little to relieve my anxiety.

When the truck blocking my view turned off,  I was able to see a parade of geese crossing the road. They came intermittently: ma and pa followed by two goslings, another couple with four youngsters, and still another set of parents followed by a whole train of furry children.

It seemed an entire community had decided the grass was greener on the other side of the highway and orderly evacuations were under way. Orderly in that the feathered and downy families were spaced just far enough apart that a couple of cars were able to creep forward between goose crossings.

When it was finally my turn at the front of the line of traffic, I waited as a proud mother and father strutted across the concrete roadway with two goslings in tow.  I wondered what the geese were more proud of - their children or their ability to bring tons of rolling steel to a halt.

Sunday, June 5, 2011

Chriping of Hundreds

I couldn't be sure when it had started - and was amazed I hadn't heard it begin.

Apart from an occasional cry of a gull or rumble of a passing car, all had been quiet when I had first gone out on the patio. Of course there was the constant trickle of the waterfall, but that sound was so commonplace that I took no particular notice.

Then, in the act of turning a page in the book I had brought along to read, I became aware of the commotion. Hundreds of birds were chirping - creating the kind of din one hears in an auditorium filled with people. Surprised by the onslaught of noise, I looked up expecting to see the neighboring field peppered with birds, only to see empty grass.  The ruckus originated further away in the distant treeline.

The avian chatter grew steadily in intensity, as though those birds who had already sought shelter in the trees were calling to their still flying fellows  quickly, come quickly, over here, quickly and I wondered what momentous event was about to occur.

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Selling Point

Did that decorative flag in front of the cemetery really say OPEN?

And just what did OPEN mean?  Was the cemetery open for visiting hours so that the living could spend time at the grave of a loved one or was the office open to receive prospective customers? And just what constituted a prospective customer - someone needing to find a place of internment for the recently departed or someone who's just received unwelcome news from their doctor.

Which got me to wondering... If my doctor told me I had only a short time left, would I really want to spend any of that time looking for the perfect to rest forever? For that matter would I want to invest any substantial time in looking for the ideal piece of real estate for a loved one?  After all, a hole is a hole.

As I got closer to the OPEN flag my musings were cut short. Immediately next to the cemetery entrance was a second drive. It was this other drive that the flag was marking - announcing the florist at the end of the lane was open for business.

I couldn't help but wonder if the cemetery and florist were run by the same person. Perhaps the proprietor gets customers in the door by selling them flowers then suggests that the bereavement basket would look quite nice on one of the plots next door... when the time came.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Breakfast With a Squirrel

It seemed to me the squirrel should have been concerned.

He was after all sitting on the very edge of the blacktop and I was steering my car around the curve where he sat. But the squirrel didn't so much as bat a gray eyelid. He simply sat there on his haunches with a nut clenched between his front paws and nibbled on his breakfast.

Even when curiosity got the better of me and I rolled to a stop beside him, the squirrel didn't fidget. He simply eyed me as though he had been expecting me to drop by and share the morning with him. The way the squirrel looked at me, like a gray haired wizened professor looking over a cup of tea,  I half expected the squirrel to extend his arms and offer a taste of his morsel.

It's from the fall of 2007 and has aged wonderfully. Try it, I'm sure you'll love the nutty aftertaste.

Alas my morning schedule was more urgent than his and I had to hurry own without the opportunity for a taste test,