How to make it past today, a primer

Life is an odd collection of things. Memories, dreams, anticipation, hopes, wishes, all swirling together to make the present bearable. There is a line from an old Sensational Alex Harvey Band “I only wish that I could see yesterday, the same way that I can see tomorrow.”* I’m not really sure what he meant, but I love that line. I know what it means to me. The past, our own personal history report, the book we have written, are writing, contains a lot of squandered opportunities, near misses, close but no cigar moments, and the future is filled with dreams, potential, a gold mine of possibilities. The past is flawed, tainted, uncomfortable, the future holds the promise of perfection. 

Of course, the present, which is always here, never leaves, follows us doggedly through life, is a perilous place. One false step and your future is sunk. Here is where the past shows it trues colors, its malignant, spiteful spirit. In the uncanny, haunting words of Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, “Pray hard, but to pray with care, because the tears you are crying now are just your answered prayers.”** And even though I am not crying those words still send up a warning signal.  Everything we do today affects tomorrow. We have no way of knowing how. It is a mystery, it could be awful or it could be wonderful, but my advice is don’t get your hopes up.

So, I live in the present, trying to make the most of the minutes I have. Right now, for example, I am sitting on my deck, the sun is sinking into the horizon, the temperature is a fantastic seventy six degrees, and the hummingbirds are stopping by for a quick bite. And life seems seems pretty good. It is almost too good to be true.

I never think too much about the past, I have some wonderful memories that bring me comfort, make me smile. Plus, I have made my share, maybe more than my share, of mistakes. But, there is nothing I can do about those. I have the scars and lingering regret to remind me, to steer me toward better choices. Which is the best I can do.

But, the future, that is where the magic lives. That is the place I think about, that is the promised land. In five weeks, my lovely wife and I are waking early and going to Swapper’s Day in Johnstown. An odd collection of collectibles, antiques, knives, guns, bows and arrows and junk. It is something I look forward to every year. It is not a social event and most people would go once and think it was good enough, but it is something I love. The crowds, the variety, the unbelievable crushing weight of humanity. The incredible assortment of stuff for sale, though I hardly ever buy anything. For $5.00 each we get hours of entertainment, and a chance to look into another world. A small town world, deeply patriotic, profoundly religious, it is almost a scene from the past, the world I came from. It is part of my history, the world I knew, so I find some comfort in the rural feel and imagery, 

Five weeks after that we are off to Yellow Springs Street Fair, one of the best things to happen in Ohio. A one day fair with enough strangeness to make even the most jaded cynic smile. In the span of three blocks you will find the blues being played on a cigar box guitar, smooth jazz played on a tenor sax, and eighties rock being played by a guy wearing a horse head mask. The narrow, short streets are filled with vendors selling everything from handmade soap to tie dyed tshirts and dresses, incense to fresh produce, food vendors selling street tacos, grilled chicken, and fried everything. Yellow Springs is a unique town, home to a liberal arts college, filled with small, diverse shops, and Street Fair is the crown jewel. Everything you want to know about Yellow Springs is common knowledge at Street Fair.

To make Street Fair even better we are taking Friday off and spending the weekend at Buck Creek State Park. We have a small cabin reserved for Friday and Saturday night. Ohio does state parks very well, the cabins are comfortable, and far enough apart that you feel secluded. The lakes are perfect for kayaking, in most cases the lakes are so small othey don’t even allow boats with gas engines. It will be my wife, me, our kayaks, maybe a bottle of wine and some steaks for the grill. It is a scene from my future, the time we can escape when we want, and just enjoy our time together.

If you are willing to use your imagination the future is a wonderland. A place where magic fuses with potential in a kaleidoscope of enchanted imagery. We are forced by reality to live in the present, and there is nothing wrong with that, but it is too real and humans are creatures who need more, something to light the way through the dreary toil of daily existence. You don’t have to believe in magic, but you should believe that living the best you can today will make tomorrow a better place. And that is all I’m trying to say, so let’s close with one more lyrical quote, Bruce Springsteen, Better Days

“Every fool’s got reason for feeling sorry for himself

And turning his heart to stone,

Tonight this fools halfway to heaven and just a mile out of hell,

And I feel like I’m coming home.”

I’m not sure that is a completely appropriate passage, but I’m open to suggestions if you have something better.

There you go, the past, the present and the future, all in one post with musical references, and a love song by the Grateful Dead, a pretty good way to say goodbye to the weekend.

* Give My Compliments to the Chef

** Oh My Lord

Ghost Towns, Today and Memories.

While we were in West Virginia we visited a ghost town. Nuttalburg, WV was a coal mining town in the New River Gorge. It is at the end of a long lwinding, narrow road, with several tiny, narrow bridges, a few places where wash outs had made the road even narrower, and some spots where you just had to question whether the trip was worth it. It was.

West Virginia is a place of magic, a land filled with deep, tree covered draws, steep, forested mountains and after a rain it is easy to imagine the white, cotton mist as a living thing. We met so many welcoming, wonderful people. The WV Department of Natural Resources does such an extraordinary job it is hard to think of them as merely human. And Nuttalburg was no exception. They mapped the ruins, describing the function of each, explaining the location, most importantly maintaining them in such wonderful condition, much better than the road.

This is the chute that moved the coal from the mine down to the railroad tracks. It was very elaborate. Careful plans were made to ensure that the coal was not damaged or reduced in any way, as it was conveyed down the mountain. Of course the miners had to walk up and down a long steep path to get to the mine. But, that’s the price of being human.

The ruins probably covered a half mile, a narrow strip of a forgotten time, hopes, wishes, prayers. It didn’t take a lot of imagination to hear the children laughing and playing outside of the ruins of the school house. Children with their own dreams, children whose parents made the long trek from all over to scrape out a living in the coal mine. Families whose lives were bound up in the mine, the coal, the trains that took it away. 

At the far end were the ruins of the company store. People traded their time for wages from the company and the wages from the company to the store owned by the company. It was a closed system,  the circle of life. Everything was there, everything rode the rails in or out. It was a perfect circle. It made me a little uncomfortable, it seems there should be some homage paid to the sacrifices made, the work, the industry, the ingenuity of these people. 

Today, I woke early and sat on the deck, and I thought of those people whose lives were tied to the mine, the railroad, the river, the company. Did they ever have the opportunity to set, drink coffee in solitude and wonder about the nature of living, the cost of being human? In a hundred years would people have different dreams? And, I couldn’t find any answers, so I looked at my pictures, said a silent prayer for all of humanity, past, present and future, and wrote this post. It’s the way I escape.

Extremes and Humanity, It Never Changes.

"Not one of them has the least thing to blame himself for. Not one has any guilt. One might believe that everything was for the best, even though a few million men lie under the ground. ...and the end and aim of it all is to have the war over again, the next war that draws nearer and nearer, and it will be a good deal more horrible than the last. All that is perfectly clear and simple. Any one could comprehend it and reach the same conclusion after a moment's reflection. But nobody wants to. Nobody wants to avoid the next war, nobody wants to spare himself and his children the next holocaust if this be the cost. To reflect for one moment, to examine himself for a while and ask what share he has in the world's confusion and wickedness—look you, nobody wants to do that. And so there's no stopping it, and the next war is being pushed on with enthusiasm by thousands upon thousands day by day."

From ; Steppenwolf, by Herman Hesse

It Gets Worse

The quote above was from a passage where Harry Haller was explaining to the lovely and mysterious Hermine why he was so universally despised. Since the novel was published in 1927 it is safe to assume he was making a reference to World War I and World War II. And he was certainly accurate. It was much worse, for everybody.

Hesse was an intellectual with a keen grasp of human frailty, and the undeniable thirst for the absolute. And certainly, being a European he understood the way wars could grow beyond any relation to the origin.

It Always Gets Worse

Take, for example, the Thirty Year War. Brought to you by competing faiths. Catholics and Protestants who were intent on destroying each other, or at least claiming victory and thereby proving
that God, did, indeed like them best.  But, when it was done churning over the nation of Germany at least 20 percent of the population had perished. Civilian casualties would not be matched until World War II. Unspeakable atrocities had been common. It was an awful chapter in the history of man.

But, it was a long time ago, we have learned so much.

What happens if we change the labels. Let's start with a classic, something older, less fashionable, but still relevant, Capitalist and Socialist. If you are in the mood for something more current and in vogue you can choose Christian and Muslim. Patterns expose themselves, nothing ever changes. We pretend that it is new, and important, but it is only the same movie with new actors. To quote Bob Dylan, "The game is the same, it's just on a different level."

Imagine what Harry Haller would say about this. Maybe his words are just as good today.

And A Quote To End

Today we are going to close with something from Albert Einstein.
“I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.”

#MakeAmericaDeadAgain.

A look back and a look forward, they look so similar.

A Look Back;

In keeping with the politically free theme, and our #MakeAmericaDeadAgain movement we have decided to study human needs, mostly the need for power. The need for power beyond 

And, if you want to talk about power a great place to start is the ancient Assyrians. They had some power, and were uninhibited as all hell about its use and potential. 

According to historian Will Durant;

"If we should admit the imperial principle – that it is good, for the sake of spreading law, security, commerce and peace, that many states should be brought, by persuasion or force, under the authority of one government – then we should have to concede to Assyria the distinction of having established in western Asia a larger measure and area of order and prosperity than that region of the earth had ever, to our knowledge, enjoyed before."

Of course, that kind of peace and security come with a price. In the case of Babylon the cost was absolute destruction. According to Sennacherib, King of Assyria 705 to 681 bce. Here is how security was achieved in Babylon;

 “I levelled the city and its houses from the foundations to the top, I destroyed them, and I consumed them with fire. I tore down and removed the outer and inner walls, the temples and ziggurats built of brick, and dumped the rubble in the Arahtu canal. And after I destroyed Babylon, smashed its gods and massacred its population, I tore up its soil and threw it into the Euphrates so that it was carried by the river down to the sea.”

A Look At Today;

 It isn’t much different than what is happening in Syria today, I guess. It was much more difficult and required a lot more labor, but the results are more or less the same.  But, what happened to Babylon took place a long time ago, and the crisis in Syria is so far away. And I was never very good at history, or geography.

Looking at the world today makes me wish I would have paid more attention to both, though. And it certainly makes me wish world leaders would have learned a little more from the past. Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it, right? Only when they repeat it with today’s arms and abilities the whole world will end up like Babylon, or Jerusalem, or Carthage.

Oddly enough, (or maybe not odd at all) they always had a reason for every barbarous act of annihilation. Today, they are just interesting bits of information on Google. Nobody ever thinks, "man we haven’t changed," we still find a reason, and still pretend it makes sense.

#MakeAmericaDeadAgain

I think we will end with some more Grateful Dead today;

“If the game is lost then we're all the same
No one left to place or take the blame
We will leave this place an empty stone
Or that shining ball of blue we can call our home”

Looking for ghosts, Edit 1.

"In a crowd... a man descends several rungs in the ladder of civilization. Isolated, he may be a cultivated individual; in a crowd, he is a barbarian." This is how Gustave Le Bon felt the sanity of the individual may have succumbed to the madness of a mob during the French Revolution.

Going back, back thousands of years, through all of history, it is easy to see the mistakes. Civilization is very old. There are many ghosts, forgotten images, dancing just out of sight. Spirits who survived the worst, and those who didn't. Spirits who watch the cycle repeat in a loop of suicidal regularity.

Sometimes it is hard to know when you see the rare bright thing if it is a ghost. Showing you something, something important. Is there a ray of hope, some chance of survival? Or is it just a forgotten dream playing tricks on a tired mind? How do you reconcile the things you know with those you only feel? In the chasm between the two is probably the answer. We need to talk to our ghosts, listen to our ghosts. 

Watch the news, see the hate, watch the senseless slaughter. Think, this has been going on for centuries. Ask yourself "why?" Then ask yourself "Why isn't everybody asking themselves why?" In that instant you will begin to see the problem. 

We don't listen to the ghosts. Attempting to impose order on chaos only dissolves the structure further. There are realities that need to be faced, even when they are uncomfortable, and alien. The world turns at different speeds everywhere. 

There is a belief that if you devise and execute a plan you are making progress. If the plan is not working it is simply a matter of altering the measurement. Looking long enough there is always a way to find some scrap of evidence to support any choice.

Of course, the problem with this is the evidence, no matter how superficial, or stupid becomes the cause. And then, no matter how worthless the original supposition the proof says it is working. Ghosts don't care about metrics. They have seen it all.

Violence, a dynasty is born in blood. It grows through subjugation, and oppression. Finally it is brought down in a storm of anger and retribution, and the whole thing starts again. 

There are days when things just don't make any sense. Days when it is hard to leave the house. Foul news, evil on the rise, every day it just seems worse. Armies on the move, hatred written on the walls, vicious acts of intolerance. It can really start to wear on a soul. 

But, I suppose it is not too late, if we can listen to the ghosts. They have seen it all.

I have been writing this post for several months. I will write it for several more, and I will repost it every time. I am not sure why, but it seems important to me.

Life Explained, by the Life Explained India Office

One bizarre fact about living is knowing that one day you won't. Let's start from the start. I was about 5 foot smaller than I am now when I was born. I weighed about 60 kg less. Astonishingly, I could not even talk. I could not even walk.

I recently had a new member introduced to our family. Incidentally, he is small too. Neither can he walk, nor can he talk. Hell! He pisses in his pants, and he can't even tell everyone of what he just did (not that he would want to). Poor kid. So difficult is life for him now. It was once for me too. Mom says everyone goes through the phase. I think she is right. Mom also says life may not exactly be difficult for the kid. She might again be right.

Then, with time I grew up. I went to school. Made wonderful friends. Learnt what I thought was necessary. Then, in no time everything became a 'blast from the past'. All the good stuff became sweet memories. Rarely, I get to meet my friends. My academic career in the aftermath became a bit of 'hit and miss' too. So, what was the point of all that? If we got to loose everything at some point. Why life addicts us to them initially?

I met a friend at the day of writing this post. I felt he had changed since the last time we met. Shockingly, he changed for better. I remember this guy who I often advised on why to be positive, and why he would do big things in life. The same boy this day tried his level best to explain to me the reason to have an open attitude toward life. To live in the present. He did not need to say a word, really. He was himself an example of a welcome change.

Let us consider something serious. I am alive now. I would assume that you are alive too if you are reading this (disclaimer: it's not mandatory to be alive to be reading this). I will die sometime. You will too, only if you are alive in the first place (disclaimer: to die, it is mandatory to be alive, you can blame nature for that). However, the timing of death has not been mentioned to us. Unfortunately, it could be the next moment. Let's take in another situation. Think of things you enjoy (the little things like jumping from 8,000 metres above sea-level, with a parachute of course). How about I tell you that the RIDE you enjoy, you can sit on it for free, but the ride will never stop. Do you still want to get on it? Just that RIDE is life.

At the time of writing this post, my referred friend is not someone who has achieved it all. He may become one, he might not. He is enjoying his moment, he understands CHANGE is life. He has learnt to love his life, to LIVE his life. Have you?

All I wrote here is for me. I share it still for no reason. It's nothing new, but still it kind of is. Is it?

Alien Life Coming to Visit,

Today was an exciting day, here at Life Explained. It was so exciting when we got this text message from an Alien Life Form.

It's not every day an alien life form sends you a text message. It is even rarer when they are coming to visit.

Oh sure, there was that time we got the email from the future, and that was cool, and all, but it was almost useless unless you wanted to bet on the 3017 World Series or were looking for the latest in future fashion. Which was all shiny, and drab, and form fitting and baggy all at the same time. If you think modern fashion is inaccessible you should see what people are wearing in the next century, or maybe you shouldn't. We kind of wish we hadn't.

Anyway, that was different, bland, terrestrial, kind of like dinner with the family. Yes it is food, but family is always a little frustrating, and you certainly can't take them out in public. Pretty soon somebody will say "what did you mean by that?' and the fight is on. Police, SWAT, and banned from another restaurant.

We hope it isn't like that time those spirits from the past faxed us, (we had to forgive the primitive technology, they were from the past, after all) we were so excited. Until we found out they just wanted to scam us for a few dollars. Invest in futures, they said, yeah, right.

Anyway, we are going to have them park in the field by the top secret Life Explained headquarters, it is zoned for extraterrestrial visitations, a little money in the right counsel person's pocket can do wonders.

We hope it is not one of those Alien things like from the Alien movie. That would be awful, but they didn't text, and we saw all of those movies.

500, read and 'em weep, but please weep quietly.

Yesterday I posted my 500th entry in this humble blog.  Five hundred is a big number, a lot of words, and some investment of time, not always a lot of thought, or any real ideas, but plenty of..., well I don't know what, but there is plenty of it.

Looking back it is still uncertain what drove that first post, so many months ago.  And I can't really say why I keep typing.  I guess, maybe, I had something to say, and maybe I still do.  Maybe, maybe I just like the idea of other people reading the things I wrote, and maybe I am just too stubborn to stop, who knows.

It seems like I should do something celebratory, something significant, but, like my reasons for starting and staying, what that would be escapes me.  We are going to a pot luck dinner at our neighbors house this evening, I might pretend that is all in honor of 500!  I will do that on surreptitiously, taking a few pictures, and acting like they are all there praising my talent, or at least my endurance.  Look for pictures here, with embellished banners and speech bubbles, later.

I have been considering changing platforms lately, maybe Wordpress, or something similar, mostly because I have a new computer, (a Surface Pro 3) and in Microsoft Word there is an option to write, format and publish my blog posts, but I can not figure out how to use the picture server to work.  (I have a Flickr, Photobucket, and Picasa account in case any of you technical wizards have any insights.)  But, at 500 I am not sure I want to change.

Recently I have started submitting work to Lefty Pop, and Find.com, and they are tied at two published submissions each, so stay tuned for updates.

That covers the past, for the most part.  Now, I need to start working on the future, and that is pretty cool.

Today, and a little yesterday, and maybe some tomorrow.

With the new year already almost two weeks old, it is time to review, many things have happened, and many things haven't.  It is vital to understand the difference.  Those who do not learn from the past are doomed to repeat it, and if the past hasn't happened yet then it is probably the future, but if it is happening right now, it might be the present, but soon will become the past, and every thing you learned studying current events in high school should have probably been covered in history class.  But, if they had cool people in the curriculum department they would teach "future events" now that is class we could really get on board with.  Imagine the potential, a teacher telling you what was going to...  Anyway, you probably get the idea.

Readings in Fahrenheit, to convert
to Celsius move to Europe.

The big event was the polar vortex.  Obviously, this is a direct result of the war on Christmas, we did warn you that Santa was fighting back.  It was a bad idea, and now it has spilled over into January, sort of a guerrilla action by the North Pole, kind of a parting shot, letting everyone know who is really the Big Kahuna.  Santa knows who has been naughty, and who has been nice.  So, if you lived in an area that saw frigid, bitter cold, winds chills, ice storms, snow storms, or bizarre meteorological occurrences of any kind, that probably spells big trouble for you next December 25th.  Santa has a keen memory, and he brooks no insubordination.  

Big, Important Award,
of some type, for somebody.

Of course there was some good news, there was the Grammys, or the Oscars, or the People's Choice Award, or the SAG awards or the Tonies, or the Golden Globes, or something like that, but it was hosted by hilarious people and featured talented musicians and singers performing their monster hits, and the audience was filled with beautiful women, and handsome men dressed so fashionably it would make a grown man weep, and possibly install a strip of red carpet, and a few high intensity lights in his garage, so every time he came home he could feel good about himself..., not that we would know anything about that.  And it was just the first of many, so settle into your recliner, grab some popcorn, and a drink and get ready to watch some people who make a kings ransom, get some awards, and make some speeches.  What a way to spend an evening, huh?

The NFL playoffs are here, and every weekend two groups of people will watch the same contest, and walk away with completely different opinions of the officiating.  There is, of course, the opportunity for unlimited advertising potential completely overlooked.  Race car drivers are walking advertisements, hotels, motor oils, shoes, snack crackers, anybody with a few bucks to kick in can put a tiny patch on a fire proof jump suit, and almost be seen by race fans the world over.  Imagine "today's officiating crew bought to you by Bob's house o' Vision, where no line bifocals are always only $129.99 and the Eye Exam is always free."  Half the fans would think, "that Bob, he sure knows his no line bifocals."

What will happen with the rest of the year, who knows, but there will be some good stuff, some bad stuff, and a lot stuff that defies explanation.  But, we here at Life Explained will always do our best to explain it, an exercise in futility, maybe, but futile exercising is better than no exercising, right?

The Awning of a New Day.

Today we are going to attempt to predict the future, the near future, this summer, in general, our vacation plans this summer, in particular. We are going to visit Pukwana South Dakota (and points west, and some points east, and maybe even a point south). The home of the Puk U Bar and Grille and Lawn Mower Race Arena. It is a delightful place, owned by my cousin Marcie, a hard working entrepreneur who has managed to carve out a successful business in the windswept, indifferent plains of Central South Dakota.

Here is the Puk U, the awning is new, at least this is the first time I've seen it.

Those who know me, understand my long, comfortable relationship with cold beer and Kentucky bourbon, (and Tennessee sour mash, and rye from a small distillery in Iowa) and the Puk U has both in generous supply. Though, finding a Puk U t-shirt in the appropriate size is difficult, they are a very hot commodity, still, I have not given up. There is also a wonderful menu, featuring many local favorites, all prepared to order (if the grill is on) and served with cold beer.

But, the real draw is the lawn mower races. People take small, riding lawn mowers and modify them using mechanical prowess, Midwest ingenuity,  and the burning desire to take something designed to be a functional and only slightly dangerous, and turn it into something fast, fun and much more dangerous. It is human nature.  These modified mowers travel at... they go...  reach speeds of... well I don't know how fast they go, but they really go, rocketing around an oval track at speeds approaching way faster than a person should be driving a lawn mower. Which makes for a wonderful spectator sport.

Of course, no true spectator sport is complete without a little action on the side.   Lawn mower races provide this through the process of auctioning racers.  You bid on the drivers, and if they win you get a portion of the prize money, which comes from the auction itself, almost a zen koan, the gambler waging on his \ her own ability to pick the right racer on which to wager.  You see, this is culturally enlightening as well as exciting.

An actual, professional auctioneer is employed to expedite this process. There is something hypnotic, mesmerizing in the cadence of an auctioneer's call. After sitting through the first several racers the siren's song won, it was addictive, and I was powerless to resist,  and had to bid, finally managing to win. Naturally, since I had won the right to root for the racer and would get a part of his winnings, the poor guy never stood a chance. His lawn mower, recognizing the curse that I routinely bestow on various sports teams, actually gave up and stopped without finishing a whole lap. Curses can be funny things, who knew they understood the workings of the internal combustion engine.

But, never quit, that's my motto, (unlike certain lawn mowers) and I am going back this summer. I have been working on my ability to exude a winning demeanor to machinery (mostly by talking to cars in parking lots) and plan on watching my racer cross the finish line, that would be a victory, at least for me.

If you happen to be driving across South Dakota on I90 and see the sign for Pukwana, stop in, find  the Puk U, it is not difficult to locate, it is right next to the race track, and very near to the Fire Station, I think, have a beer, and a shot of bourbon, a good meal (if the grill is on) and leave a very generous tip.  We are talking about family here.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad