Random Bothersome Things

When people bother you in any way, it is because their souls are trying to get your divine attention and your blessing” --Catherine Ponder

Here are some random things that bother me. Perhaps I will feel better if I write them down. Therapy. Also, I will note that the gal in the picture at the top of this blog entry isn't Catherine Ponder. We'll get to the half-naked Lydia Guevara and her carrot bandoleers in a bit.

Fencerows…or the present lack of them and the removal of them

On my way home from work, I drive along a road with a fence row that borders our local airport. It was getting a bit overgrown with some autumn olive but from what I could see, posed no significant air traffic risk to the planes landing and taking off. For the last 3 years, I would see my first—and the only so far--Eastern Meadowlark working along this fence row and the field that it edged. It also was where the Redwing Blackbirds first returned in the spring to begin their territorial dances awaiting the female of the species arrival. Unfortunately, this past spring marked the demise of the overgrown fence row. Some genius must have only concluded that this was not the neat appearance needed in a rural area. So out came the chainsaws and manpower and trimmed it up like a residential lawn. So our county gained a more uncluttered, less natural view of the asphalt landing strip and lost a song of a relatively rarely seen bird in these parts.

Ernesto Che Guevara T-shirts being worn by anyone, let alone the celebrities

Why do people have to look at a mass murderer’s image on T-shirts? Think of it as a Cuban version of despots like Stalin, Hitler, or Pol Pot. Would we see actor Johnny Depp sporting that profile on his chest? Carlos Santana dedicating songs to Manuel Noriega? Even my favorite organization to hate, one that exploits anything with disgustingly nauseating ad campaign approaches, PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals), found that Che’s twenty-something granddaughter, Lydia, was a dedicated vegetarian and enlisted her to pose for ads that reminisce visually the feel of the revolutionary’s time. The tag line of the ad: “Join the Vegetarian Revolution.” How many vegetables must die to suppress us carnivores? She posed sans clothes of course. Nudity, sex appeal, and serial killer imagery. Genius. Oh, and Hitler was a vegetarian as well. Where's his PETA poster?

Turn signals

People who don’t use turn signals, “Nuff said.

People who don’t understand the U.S Constitution

We live in the greatest country in the world. Remember to love what we have and to love the rights of others to live here with what they love. Not a single thing in the United States Constitution talks about what citizens can’t do in the pursuit of happiness. It spends most of the time explaining what the elected government can’t do to its citizens. Think of it in the manner of Kings are not elected by the citizens, they seized their power by suppressing them. Remember that when your representatives seek to pass a new “law.” They were not elected to be lawmakers; they were elected by us, their constituency, to represent us in the different branches of government. I try to remember whenever one of those elected officials says they are going to give us something, it is time to start searching which of my pockets they are going to take it from.

Share your annoyances with me in the comments section, I bet we share many of them.

I am a Bear of Very Little Brain, and long words bother me.” –Winnie the Pooh

Gotta’ Have Heart

"Deer flies are vicious painful biters that are relentless in their pursuit of blood to the point of a meal or death". --Unknown

I’ll give it to the deer flies: they sure have heart.

This observation came to me as my wife and I ran down the trail along the river for a summer evening run. Well, actually it would be more like a creek, but they call it a river trail. Mosquitoes have been sort of bad this early summer, but we hadn’t run into the biting deer flies yet in any great number on the runs. With mosquitoes, as long as you keep moving it is generally hard for them to take up a grip on the skin and bore their vicious hole into your skin. Deer flies are a completely different matter.

This relative peace all changed as we ran through a new section of trail, just being developed, that cuts through a small section of woods. The deer fly hordes denizen was breeched by us in this route, at this time of day, and the little ba@*!#ds commenced their attack. Now I luckily had on my new breathable hat which effectively covers up the bald spot opening at the top of my head that is the preferred target of the deer fly. Warm, sweaty areas that are moving tend to draw them “like flies.” You could be running naked I swear and they only would want to lodge in and around the hair on your head. When I don’t have a hat on the deer flies bounce and bounce repeatedly on my head causing me to begin to slip into insanity. Tap. Tap. Tap. Swat-miss. Tap. You get the picture. Diving in, attaching to flesh and proceeding to use their razor edged mouth to drain your blood into their eager mouths. And bug spray, I think it is like ketchup and mustard to deer flies, just a topping to the blood they are sucking from the wounds they inflict.

Well, back to this tale. We came out of the woods and were enthusiastically joined at this point by several flying companions, whose soul purpose was to eat…US! But for some reason they were much more interested in my wife’s lovely, long brown hair so prettily flying about her as she ran. I think they may have been attracted to the bright yellow shirt she was sporting, a top that before the run I had commented on what a nice color combination it was combined with the blue shorts. Think maize and blue, University of Michigan. Go Wolverines! Little did I suspect it might be the team colors for those nasty insects.

I took off my hat and began swatting the circling demons from around my darlings head. I swear when I hit them with the crushing blows it either just made them madder or they were split in two and doubled the intensity of their attack. As I was doing this, I noticed that they had no interest in my head at all. Then I suggested maybe if she ran fast she could shake ‘em, which was a dangerous suggestion this late in a run with fatigue a factor. God knows what would have come on us if we for some reason tired and had to slow to a walk. I pictured two corpses found along the trail by strangers passing by, corpses drained of blood through hundreds of seeping wounds. But she tried the sprint move and I only think it got the flies blood competitively flowing.

So I offered my hat to the wife. After much cajoling for her to “just take it,” she did. This seemed to ease her discomfort caused by the flies and they still were ignoring me mostly. Eventually, the farther we found ourselves from their lair, the attacks subsided and we were able to peacefully finish the run, ironically among the living in a cemetery.

Here is a remedy for deer flies that just might work:
http://www.flypatch.com

Here is a great blog on the deer fly:
http://naturejournals.blogspot.com/search?q=Deer+Fly

From Wikipedia:
Deer flies (also known as yellow flies) are flies in the genus Chrysops of the family Tabanidae that can be pests to cattle, horses, and humans. A distinguishing characteristic of a deer fly is patterned gold or green eyes.
Deer flies are a genus that belongs to the family commonly called horse-flies (Tabanidae). They are smaller than wasps, and they have colored eyes and dark bands across their wings. While female deer flies feed on blood, males instead collect pollen. When feeding, females use knife-like mandibles and maxillae to make a cross-shaped incision and then lap up the blood. Their bite can be extremely painful, and allergic reaction from the saliva of the fly can result in further discomfort and health concerns. Pain and itch are the most common symptoms, but more significant allergic reactions can develop.
They are often found in damp environments, such as wetlands or forests. They lay clusters of shiny black eggs on the leaves of small plants by water. The aquatic larvae feed on small insects and pupate in the mud at the edge of the water. Adults are potential vectors of tularemia, anthrax and loa loa filariasis.

Dazzled With Jargon

Our business is infested with idiots who try to impress by using pretentious jargon. -- David Ogilvy

Here is my message to everyone or anyone who cares about others sanity.
 
Cut the crap.
 
Please, when you explain something, try to use terms "normal" people with any kind of brain can understand. Don't talk down to us to try to make yourself sound important or more educated or vastly more worldly than the rest of us. Keep what you are saying interesting and keep our attention. I don't want to wish I had had five extra cups of coffee--no, a whole pot of Java--to try to stay attentive to what you are relaying to me.
 
Entertain us with a story, don't dazzle us with all the jargon and scientific names of what you do, how you do it and what equipment you use. Make us sit in awe of your work. Show us examples with words and gestures. Trace the object you are describing with your hands in the air between us. I can picture it if you keep my interest.
 
I also don't want to just hear all your success stories. Don't just leave out the errors and mistakes. Tell them as well, the many or few wrong turns, blind alleys and the twists of fate that put you where you are. Led to how you got there. We all make mistakes and blunders, shout them out to us. It only makes you more human and lovable when we can see your warts. We truly need to know how you have learned from mistakes and made a better world for your neighbors, family and the rest of the planet.
 
This goes out to the guys that know all the specs from the manual and want to give them to you...I just want a simple understanding how it works. Instruction please, simplified.

And if you can't talk to me without making me feel like an idiot, just point to what I need in the aisle or even send me down the road where they are as dumb appearing to you as I seem. You don't probably have time to lower your brain to my level. You probably have some theorem to resolve or technical manual to dissect that would hold your interest.

I will go hang out with the ditch-diggers. We will always need ditch-diggers. We can talk about shovels.

You must learn to talk clearly. The jargon of scientific terminology which rolls off your tongues is mental garbage. -- Martin H. Fischer

Tiger By The Tail

I've Got A Tiger By The Tail, it's plain to see;
I won't be much when you get thru' with me.
Well, I'm a losing weight and a turnin' mighty pale.
Looks like I've Got A Tiger By The Tail. -- Lyrics from Buck Owens I’ve Got A Tiger By The Tail

How many times have we had a tiger by the tail? This metaphor could sum up most days for me. There seems to be these little things that if you let go of them long enough they are going to turn right around and shred you.

Some of those tigers you have to really grip on to and some you forget you are even grasping a tail at the time. Only do you get reminded you are holding them when you let go and are surprised to be staring something dangerous in the eye. Can’t probably out run it. To strong to win a hand to hand fight with. Your arsenal of weapons are too small caliber to take it down--even with a well placed shot.

On the other hand, some of those tigers that you have by their tail don’t want to turn around and devour you. Some of them would make like the wind and breeze away if they could. Meaning if you would let them go. Release the tail, release the tiger, release the pain, release the doubt, release the fear, release the memories. For anyone that ever has water-skied, it is the same feeling as when you release the rope when you come to the end of the circling behind the boat. As long as you hold on you are under the control of the rope, the boat pulling it, the “tiger.” Release yourself and you skim the surface ever slowing until you come to a stop and sink into the water. Or crash into something or catch your ski and do a face first header into a not very soft surface that water can be at times.

So try to determine the type of tiger you have a hold of. They could be a combination of the two types as well. I have had a few that when I let them go they turned around and kicked the s#@t out of me and then left for parts unknown. I bandaged myself up and kept on going.

What is my alternative?

Here are the rest of the lyrics to this great song by the recently departed Buck Owens. Here is a You Tube link to a performance of his. Enjoy.

I've Got A Tiger By The Tail, it's plain to see;
I won't be much when you get thru' with me.
Well, I'm a losing weight and a turnin' mighty pale.
Looks like I've Got A Tiger By The Tail.

Well, I thought the day I met you, you were meek as a lamb;
Just the kind to fit my dreams and plans.
But now, the pace we're livin' takes the wind from my sails
And it looks like I've Got A Tiger By The Tail.

I've Got A Tiger By The Tail, it's plain to see;
I won't be much when you get thru' with me.
Well,I'm a losing weight and a turnin' mighty pale.
Looks like I've Got A Tiger By The Tail.

Well, ev'ry night you drag me where the bright lights are found;
There ain't no way to slow you down
I'm as 'bout as helpless as a leaf in a gale;
And it looks like I've Got A Tiger By The Tail.

I've Got A Tiger By The Tail, it's plain to see;
I won't be much when you get thru' with me.
Well,I'm a losing weight and a turnin' mighty pale.
Looks like I've Got A Tiger By The Tail.

Opposites

The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it's indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it's indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it's indifference. -- Elie Wiesel

I am troubled by the word "indifference." As in Wiesel's above quote, he blames it for almost everything that could happen that is bad. In the world. In our beliefs. In our way of living. How many times a day do we casually say "I don't care" about things we are asked? Or "I don't know" as an answer to an inquiry about something. That is indifference to the importance of the person asking the question, requesting dialogue. It is a discarding of that moment, instead of capitalizing on an opportunity to love.

I think it was Wiesel that said something about how while he was interred in Buchenwald as a Jew during WWII, that he quit believing in the Jewish God. That was his awakening, how to believe in a God and also believe in such a place as the Nazi death camps. Both existing at the same intersection of historical time. His own self, his eternal soul, present at this place and time. He perceived the God of his faith as indifferent. I have thought the same thing at different times in my life. When my son's close friend was killed on a motorcycle at the age of twenty. How could such a painful sentence be handed down to his parents. How could "love" and "God" fit in to the scheme of that incredible grief that surrounded that moment?

So agree with Wiesel, indifference is our enemy. We cannot allow indifference to claim another endangered species, another abused child or a planet that will offer an unhealthy environment for the next generation. Our indifference cannot condemn the future.

I want there to always be tigers, clean air and a God.
 

Former Buchenwald prisoners - Elie Wiesel's face is visible on the second row, fourth from the left, by the vertical wooden beam.

This May Take a While...If I Have That Much Time

"Sometimes I lie awake at night, and I ask, 'Where have I gone wrong?' Then a voice says to me, 'This is going to take more than one night.'." -- Charlie Brown.

This happens to be a fate that I often bring upon myself...this recounting of what went wrong.  Sometimes it is what I said wrong. I am often not a smooth communicator and stumble badly over what I mean to say, getting more and more frustrated as I blabber along. Digging a hole. Not quite deep enough to hide in but plenty deep enough to still have my head sticking out to be taken off. Sort of like that game where you bash the groundhog over the head if he sticks it out of the hole. Or the shoot-the-duck game at a carnival. Me being the unlikely or unlucky duck flying by in the hail of lead shot.

A lot of times it is just a simple matter of getting in over my head. Thinking that I can handle it. Forgetting that I have no experience of a particular skill or job. Something I find myself doing often...staring from my back up at something I have no idea about under a car or truck. Trying to figure out some way to say something meaningful about an asked question where I don't feel like a clown or an imbecile with the answer. Many people can spout off anything and they are believed, they have the gift of communication right on the tips of their tongue. I feel jealous sometimes. Then they will eventually, in many cases, appear truly as an empty vessel, devout of real understanding and knowledge.

I now critically look at every thing that I hear or see. It is painful at times. I want to believe but my illusions have been so slowly shattered over time to not allow belief. I have forgotten and discarded what I once took as faith. Trashed it. Now it is overtaken by worry and stress and concern about how to dissect it for the truth. I want to so very bad believe, as a child does, but without a mind full of snake oil. Victim of a Flim-Flam Man.
Am I worried about being wrong or being found out that I am wrong by others? A fraud? My own version of a Snake-Oil Salesman? After all, don't I offer and ask often times in this Blog for you to think about deep, wondrous, troubling things? Or am I just troubling others with my angst?

The cartoon of Charlie Brown, Lucy and the football come to my mind. If I was going to kick the football and you were holding it, would justice be served if you pulled it away as I kicked it? You, being my worries. I know I have felt that urge to yank it and watch others stumble if only at times to assist Karma with a little action. It feels so deliciously wrong to think that way, yet it persists.

Destined to lie on my back and look up at the mistakes. The ones I made and the ones that are to come. *Sigh!*

The List

Marcus Tullius Cicero said that there were "Six mistakes mankind keeps making century after century.”
1. Believing that personal gain is made by crushing others
2. Worrying about things that cannot be changed or corrected
3. Insisting that a thing is impossible because we cannot accomplish it
4. Refusing to set aside trivial preferences
5. Neglecting development and refinement of the mind
6. Attempting to compel others to believe and live as we do

These points were written down more than 2000 years ago and still are out there tripping us up in our lives. Not only are they mankind as a whole’s mistakes, they trip us up as individuals throughout our lives. Some of these six pratfalls are more prominent singular events in our lives; some happen more often, repeated; and some are rare occurrences.

When I first discovered this list I tried to write a page under each mistake and try to identify the weakness of character that each showed me about myself. It was painful and liberating at the same time. It showed me my personal growth through the years and pointed out where I seemed to always be repeating the cycle of regrettable behavior. When I was done, the list was a harsh condemnation. I tore it up and tried to forget it. But the list had been made and now seems to pop up at “convenient” times, and has actually become a simple guide to the steps that I need to take.

My wife has a vision board above her desk. It speaks to her personal dreams, hopes and desires about where she sees her life in the future and shows her the paths that need to be taken to reach her “Nirvana.” I should probably be worried that there are no pictures of me on the board, but I can see her vision. In the pictures and quotes there are many shared aspects of things we like to do together, so I know she sees us that way. Together. Remembrance of my list is a way that I can find my vision of where I am moving forward. By continuing to just move forward and not falling into old, lazy behavior.

I would like to see everyone try this accounting of their mistakes, and see if it can contribute to wellbeing of mind as I experienced it. Look at your regrets. Examine your strengths. It will be a way to avoid #5 of the list; and please don’t think I am trying to compel #6 on you.

"It is a great thing to know your vices." — Marcus Tullius Cicero

Footnote: Marcus Tullius Cicero (January 3, 106 BC – December 7, 43 BC) was a Roman philosopher, statesman, lawyer, political theorist, and Roman constitutionalist. He came from a wealthy municipal family of the equestrian order, and is widely considered one of Rome's greatest orators and prose stylists. He became an enemy of the state at the end of his life, and Cicero's last words after being captured are said to have been, "There is nothing proper about what you are doing, soldier, but do try to kill me properly." He bowed to his captors, leaning his head out of the litter in a gladiatorial gesture to ease the task. By thus baring his neck and throat to the soldiers, he was indicating that he wouldn't resist. According to Plutarch, he was slain, then they cut off his head. On Antony's instructions his hands, which had penned the many great words of his philosophy, were cut off as well and were nailed and displayed along with his head in the Roman Forum.