So there - I said it - I am on Farmville

While learning that facebooks social games, such as Farmville, has reached the Austin American Statesman this morning, I contemplated the appropriate statement in regard to my involvement in such internet activities'. I have known many gamers in my day and up until the last couple of years I have not participated. Aside from the age of the original Nintendo and Nintendo's Game Boy, I have been fairly removed from the world of video games and internet gaming as well. However when the requests came from facebook friends for apple trees, cows, and reindeer…I will have to admit… I was intrigued. But why?


I learned early on that it was a game built around reaching the next level. Plant these crops - then harvest them for money to plant more, you get the picture. A year later I own a beautiful plantation home surrounded by animals, ponds, fountains, barns, guest houses, and a plethora of other ornaments that would make the Ewing Estate, on the formerly popular TV series, Dallas, look like a compound with a doublewide. After accumulating all of this Farmville clout and boasting a Farmville bank account that has almost reached 4,000,000,000 coins, I go about my daily business just like any other member of the hoi polloi. That's just me. I have learned however, that the jealousy has surmounted among facebook friends and foes all around me. Instead of boasting about my success on Farmville, just like any other modest farmer - I've learned to keep a lid on it.

When groups titled: "I don't care about your Farm, Aquarium, or Mafia," began cropping up on Facebook I knew that the days of sending friend request, sharing barn raising opportunities with non-Farmviller's were over. But what did we (Farmviller's) do? We banded together. Farmville is a game that you improve through expansion, more neighbors, more land, more farm cash and coins, all of these factors help you move up. When the groups that discriminated against us made their mark on facebook, we stuck together. W raised our own barns, sent gifts, and eggs, and fuel, among other things to one another. We shared friends that were also Farmviller's in an effort to add more to the underworld web of crops, and harvest. When asked at cocktail parties and happy hours if we played such games, we declined answering by acting as if we were unaware of the subject. All the while we were thriving as farmers.

But why? It's simple - it's fun! Farmville is something that hooks us just like the Time Crossword puzzle or a good book. Page after page we go into a story that leads nowhere, only this time we're building something. So there - I said it - I am on Farmville. Farmville is a game just like WOW, or Mario Cart, the only difference is the object of the game. Instead of winning the race or war, the object is to flourish as a Farmer. Is it laughable? Of course! Just as laughable as grown men and women playing virtual games involving guns and bombs. Does it hurt anything? I doubt it. Am I serious about all the banding together and discrimination and all those militant phrases I used earlier? Not at all.

So Farmville made the paper. I can't say that I am surprised. The next thing I am waiting to hear is that President Obama has sent Secretary Clinton a Farmville Friend request - that's when I will get worried!

So today I had to comment - I'm just that kind of nut. Speaking of nuts, I better check on my Walnut Trees…they may need to be harvested. Ciao!

Why does "Stuff" Matter?

Since this weekend I have been in the unfortunate position of packing in preparation for my move this weekend. And although packing and moving happen to be two things that I loathe; I have found a few benefits to these processes. Over the past few days I have found myself in the floor of every room in my house going through papers, old birthday cards, photos, and just looking through my hoards. I guess you could say that I have become reacquainted with my "stuff" and why I have it.

I will be moving to an apartment that is a tad bit smaller but also a tad bit closer to the Capitol . In an effort to downsize I have been having to make a few hard decisions. I keep reminding myself that it is all just "stuff," and "stuff," really shouldn’t matter that much. Regardless, I have, as have so many people like me, accumulated a lot of "stuff" since my last move - less than two years ago. During all of this picking and choosing I have found that the things that have to be kept, pull on my heart strings more than my wallet. In fact, if you have been in my home before I dismantled it this week, and asked where did you get this, or what is that? You might have been standing listening to a story about a certain piece of furniture's origin, or a knick knacks former home. That's just me!

So on this moving journey I am taking a few things that not only come from my past but from that of others. My sofa and living room chairs once sat in several of my Nannie's former living rooms. And although they have been dressed in new fabrics, I still see them as a gift from her. Nannie was a source of so many things for me and to be able to curl up on her sofa and read or watch a movie makes those activities a little better for me. Sometimes I wonder if she ever thought her sofa might make it all the way to Austin, Texas? But even if she didn't, it has, and I bet she would be proud to know that.

Also coming along with me is a bread box that sat on the counter in my Granny and Papaw's kitchen all my life. When I look at that box I can see Granny and Papaw moving around that kitchen cooking breakfast - a staple at their house. I remember those breakfasts, and talks of the scrabble game the night before that bled into the morning hours, or the family gathering that happened the day before. I think of good times when I see that box.

With me is also coming a table that sat in my Aunt and Uncle, Trisha and Bill's home in Washington, D.C. - a table that has now traveled many miles. On that table will come with me a box that came all the way from Afghanistan, where my Uncle Bill worked to revitalize the American Embassy there, just after the recent war began. When I see that table I think about their influence on my life and the good times that I have shared with them in their home, and when I look at that box I think about how much I have learned about the world due to their work and their travels.

A bar set from my sister, Shannon, and dozens of pictures in frames of her, Steven, Cole and Sloane. Things that have hung on my Mom and Dad's walls. Gifts from them that also have no value of dollars and cents. Things from my Aunt and Uncle, Ami and Gar - gifts from their past. Photos and gifts sent given to me by my Aunt Judy. Memorobillia from the days of Chesley and Decola Franklin Coal Companies, memorabilia from Storms Antiques, a crab ashtray here and a cane there. Things that no one else in the world might want of even like…but I do. Things that make my days in Austin more of a joy.

In yet another home, in another time, in another city and state - these "things" matter again. They matter to me because they mattered to them. These things will never keep people alive, or keep people close to me in proximity, but they do remind me of a love that has been mine. A love that I continue to share through hospitality with all those who enter my home. A love that has helped me get over every hurdle in my life and a love that will get me through this move and others. Love. Love is what makes "things" matter. It is what it is, "it's patient, it's kind", it moves mountains - heck, it even moves boxes!

Time won't pass me by!

A book I have already read on a shelf that compels me to pick it up, a poem I have read a hundred times, a song I have heard and sang, and read the lyrics of time and time again, the steadfast comforts of my life. Where do they take me? Or should I ask where would I be without them?


Listening to a Damien Rice song, Older Chests, and why today? The song comes on a radio station that drifts into a headset that sends music to my ears…and again I ask why today? The songs message sings loud and clear in a chorus that states: "time, there's always time, on my mind…pass me by, I'll be fine, just give me time."

Somewhere along life's journey we come to learn that time is something that we have, something that we live within, something we have to share and give, but something that we never really understand. Time flies, and sometimes it drifts past us like a feather in a subtle breeze. Time. The beauty of time is the wisdom we gain from experiencing every facet of it, every hour.

Today my parents celebrate thirty six years of marriage, now that's time. Today my Aunt Ami, and my Papaw are eighty years old, that's a lot of time too. Today I am twenty eight years old…bring it on time! I am ready. Bring on the good times, bring on the sunsets, the breath taking moments that will make me value you more. Challenge me more than you already have, because I am up for that challenge. After all this time what will I have learned? A prediction that I cannot make whole heartedly. I can only hope that from each fleeting moment I will learn to experience, to love, and to find happiness. In the moments that are full of sadness, anger, or disconnect I hope that I will learn to be patient and wait - wait for a time that is better, a day that is brighter, I hope that I learn that too. And when my time adds up to 36, then 55, then 71, then 80, and who knows maybe 101. Who will I be then? You may be sure that I will be the person that you knew all along the way, only then I will know more about time. Time won't pass me by!

"Don't sweat the small stuff…it's all small stuff!"

Over the years many different people have shared this little phrase with me and no matter how many times I hear it I always think - ain't that the truth!

No matter how you feel, what you think, or what others may say, life will go on. As Little Orphan Annie so sweetly sang: "the sun will come out tomorrow." Some days will be rough and you might feel like you are carrying too much of the load with little help from others. But your day will come, you'll see! I think it is important to have this kind of attitude, and if you don't keep this sort of mind set I fear that the small stuff, the big stuff, or just all the stuff will get you down. Sit down, take a load off, blow out a sigh of anguish, spill your guts to your best friend or the closest person to you, cry till you laugh or laugh till you cry. Then put both feet on the floor and go back at it! It's the only way!

I haven't shared a story in a long, long time, so today I feel compelled to share a little story that a former pastor shared with a congregation several years ago. His name was David Fambrough, and I believe that he is now living and working in Clarksville, Tennessee. Regardless, Reverend Fambrough is an awesome person and an extremely compelling speaker. He shared this story with so and now I will share it with you.

In a small town where everyone knew one another there was a sweet little old lady that had lived her entire life in the town. No one could remember a time that she spoke ill of someone else. She was the first person to share a laugh and give a smile. She always knew the right things to say to make you feel uplifted and nice…she was a fine lady. One day the town drunk passed away and although he was sort of a nuisance, he was liked. While the towns people began to gather for his funeral they all wanted to be close by when the sweet little lady came through the church to pay her last respects. After all, this would be the perfect opportunity to hear her say something snide. Just before the funeral hour the sweet little old lady strolled into the church. Her tiny black hat shaded her face as she nodded to those she passed silently all down the aisle leading up to the casket. Near the casket the Reverend stood greeting guests. A few women that were friends of hers emerged from their pews when she passed and began to closely follow her. When she reached the casket she looked down on the old drunk with a tear in her eye and gracefully moved on to shake hands with the Reverend. By this time even the Reverend was thinking this might be the moment that she would break her streak. As the Reverend took her frail hand she looked up and him and said with a smile: "He sure was a good whistler!" Then she strolled to the back of the church and took a seat for the service.

I am not sure if that little lady ever really existed as this story was told. Who knows? She might have been a collection of nice ladies that Rev. Fambrough had served over the years. Or it could have been just a good story to give the example of having something nice to say on any occasion. Regardless, the story is there and it proves its own importance. The importance of giving people the benefit of the doubt, the importance of not knocking someone else down to make yourself feel a little better, and just the importance of being in someone's corner even though everyone else may have given up on them. I love that little old lady, and I have known many like her. They represent the people that get what they should out of life, the folks that stick to the sunny side…I'm with them. It is certainly not ever the easiest way, but it is always the most rewarding.

Have a good weekend friends!

From Sea to Oily Sea...

With the news of oil and tar washing up with the tides onto the shores in Pensacola I wonder what have we lost in this crisis? What will we forever lose as result of this disaster in the Gulf? Our country depends greatly on oil to get from A - B, among other things, and we are all guilty of taking part in this process. Unfortunately, something that fuels our way of life is potentially destroying an array of ecosystems in the Gulf of Mexico.


Each day we hear more and more about BP, the continued spewing of oil into the ocean, and the simultaneous mishaps that are popping up due to this disaster. The fishing industry, the restaurant industry and the tourism industry teeter as this crisis continues. These financial entities will certainly be affected so long as this mess is out there. While the Obama Administration and BP Executives put their heads together in an effort to stop this leak and clean up this mess, I wince at the idea of what our world will lose in way of wildlife in the regions affected. All day everyday on any given media outlet you can see updates, photos, and stories regarding the effects of this oil spill. I think it is important for us to understand that many of the losses suffered from this terrible event money cannot, and will not replace. The hands of time may eradicate this misfortune and they may not.

That said, I do not have a change of course or any answers to the questions regarding the future of the Gulf. What I do have is a solemn prayer that this problem is seen through to the finish, and not with band-aid solutions, but with iron clad problem solving, regulation and leadership that will insure that this will not happen in the future. As our high hopes, thoughts, and efforts for this cause go out to our friends on the coast - let them also reach the wildlife of land and sea that we share this planet with. These are neighbors that are losing their lives and their home. Keep praying!



 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Farewell Edith Shain

Edith Shain, the woman who claimed to have been the nurse in the famous photo taken by Alfred Eisenstaedt in 1945, of a sailor kissing a nurse in the streets of New York City on V-J Day (Victory over Japan) dies. Ms. Shain was 91, reminding all of us of the ending of an era. Most of us can get a visual picture in our minds of this sailor holding the nurse by the waist and dipping her for a kiss. People all around them were celebrating in the streets. This iconic photo takes its place in history, along with the photo of the soldiers erecting the American Flag on Iwo Jima, the icon depiction of Rosy the Riveter, and so many other photos and caricatures in conjunction with the second World War.

Sadly, this generation is fading away from us. I guess we can take wisdom from General Douglas MacArthur who once said: "Old soldiers never die, they just fade away." The same generation that served us in Europe and in the South Pacific married the girls at home and in the factories and the shipyards. A group of men and women who moved out of the cities to create the suburbs. The same folks that started the baby boom - our grandparents - The Greatest Generation (Tom Brokaw). Although many of the men and women in my family that were a part of that generation have already passed away, today I am reminded of their steadfast commitment to this country, their families, their communities and their careers. The death of Ms. Shain should strike a chord among us that helps us to recognize that the statement "only the good die young," is not completely true.

Regardless of the fact that the days of cars with fins and hair bonnets have passed us by, we can still remember with a smile the dignity that this generation carried with them. The charm that they embodied, along with the legacy that they so tediously placed before us. We may not always go about doing things the way that they did, and we may not have the same obstacles to face. However, if we take on the world's problems with the same courage and fortitude that these great people did, we may also be able to hand off the torch with high accolades and remarks. Their example is certainly an example that history will record..

So today as we say farewell to yet another member of The Greatest Generation, a wound opens for those that have already gone and a reverence is held close for those still carrying on that banner.

Blog, Blog, Blog: Recap

Today I looked over some of the blogs that I have written over the past few months. While doing so I was reminded that although in the past couple of weeks my diligence has waned - my longest lasting New Year's Resolution to date - is still in action. Through eighty seven entries I have examined people, places, and ideas that are near and dear to me. In many of these blogs I have mentioned people's names and I hope I have done so with respect and grace. I've told stories.


Since I was a little boy I have absorbed, observed, and related to stories. Many people in my family have contributed to this love by sharing with me the stories of their lives. For example: what it was like when they were growing up, stories about vacations, jobs, business ventures, love, and life. Memories become stories that we retell to keep things alive and among us. All my life I have enjoyed time with others and relating through stories, metaphors, and experience. Like many things that I have done in my life I waited a while before I started this blog. I was reluctant to put down for the world, or just a few in the world to see, the words that are in my mind…my stories. I'm not sure why, because if you sat down with me for any period of time I would begin to tell one or two - I can't help it! But even still there was a bit of reluctance.

Today, as I was looked back at these words and phrases, I notice the names of people that I loved for so many reasons. People that have helped me out along the way because they wanted to , not necessarily because they had to. I noticed people's names mentioned that have been gone for so many years, so many that I didn't even have the opportunity to meet them - I only knew them through stories. This weekend someone told me in casual conversation that "my life was an open book," and although I like the sound of that, it is not completely true. Although the pages may turnm, few really get the chance to read the fine print. My stories are yet to be told, and maybe that is fitting since it would be more appropriate for someone else to tell them.

In September around the time of my birthday I will have lived in Austin for two years, a time that has flown by. I started the blog "If you could read my mind" Daily Thoughts and Stories; in January. Each week I have done my best to tickle the keys and record what I was thinking that day. Many times there were some extremely heartfelt entries, some were aimed at being informative, others were just stories of good times and humorous experiences. Regardless of any of that, this blog illustrates the memories and the people that bring me strength even though they are not so near to me right now. Two years ago I moved about nine hundred miles away from my family, a family that is close and strong. I have noticed while reading over my blogs that it in many ways reveals a little bit of me, or at least some of the things that I think are important.

Today I have so much going on in my head that I feel that same reluctance - only this time the force is not so strong. By writing this blog I have pushed myself to disregard my thoughts of what people might think and just write. Fortunately, I am not finished because there are so many other things that I would like to cover, so many people that I would like to write about - and all entries come with their fair share of reluctance. Do I say this? Should I say that about him or her? I wonder how this will be read? What a tangled web I weave. The importance to this web weaving is that somewhere in the last few years I have gained the courage to do something of which I have always wanted to do. Somewhere in this stretch of time life has happened to me, just as some of the people in these blogs told me it would. This blog has reminded me to remember, and be proud to do so. To project and illustrate what is going on in my head. Perhaps this is a small accomplishment for some, but for me it has been quite substantial.

Interpretations

Somewhere along the way I must have taken a course that was not on the map. I reached a place on the road that was very unusual and quite frankly this place didn't look so bad. It reminded me of somewhere I had been before, but I couldn't put my finger on when I had been there. The place just appealed to me so much that my mind was telling me to stay. Everything practical within me told me to find my way back to the trail I had mapped out, but my heart for some reason told me I should linger here for a while and see if this would lead me to and alternate route. All down the road I began to feel more and more pleased to have gone in this direction and before I knew it, I realized that I was still on track to my destination. The road was not as well lit during the night and during the day I noticed that there were not as many passersby. In fact there were times that I felt as if I was the only person taking this route.


The things that I saw on this vain of my journey, are things that all the days of my life I shall never forget. The few people that I did meet seemed to be good at heart and kind. The trees that shaded the road were sturdy and strong and the flowers along the roadway were beautiful and filled this stretch of time with color and magnificence. This time in my life was so wonderful that I often hoped I would never step off this path. But eventually it ended and I reached the main road again - I could hear the activity there as I approached it and as if to crawl out of a cocoon I merged from this path back to the main stream. A feeling I am sure the fish in the waters understand - if they have the capacity to understand such things.

Life continued to happen to me after I reached that path as it always does, after all, time stops for no man. Regardless, it is my belief that because I took a chance on that side road my life changed forever. The things that I saw, the things that I did, the things that I was able to see there that were seemingly invisible to me before; made me more aware of what I was supposed to be, more aware of who I am. I guess you could say that if I hadn't taken that path a simpler life I would have led. But I did take that path and now all the days left in my life will be richer days.

The Road Not Taken

by: Robert Frost

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth; 5

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same, 10

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back. 15

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

I Can't Hear You!

Where do I find the melody? The melody that takes my mind and makes it wonder - wonder of times and places that change the days into nights, and sighs into smiles and laughter. Where?


Two years ago I was living in Nashville, Tennessee. Typing that out makes me question my own math. Has time flown fast? It had too - since it seems that I have been here for so long? It must have since I have been having so much fun. And as they say - time flies when you're having fun! So I went from Music City to the Live Music Capitol of the World - are you sensing the trend? In Nashville I had weekly spots that I went to hear my friends or just random bands and musicians play. Music was so much a part of my social curriculum there and generally just a component that contributes to my life and happiness. That said, I am surprised that I have lived here for this long and have not found myself following anyone new…what's going on? Perhaps I am only nostalgic for my friends in the industry that weave poetry into music so effortlessly that it seems like magic. Maybe I seek that music here too to replace a void.

I think it is easy to see life in phases, however it would be difficult to see one of my life's phases without music - It just won't work! So in this next phase I think it is time to search for the music again. The music that brings cause to tap my foot, to sway like the trees in the breeze, the melody that begs me to smile - after all this is Austin! This blog might indeed improve if these chords, notes and voices are heard. I seek out the sirens, I will find them before too long!

As time has passed here in this unique town, I have worked hard to start a career, establish myself as and Austinite, make new friends, and become acclimated with the area. All those things seem to be coming right along. As I turn over this page and greet a new year in Texas for myself, I challenge myself to seek something out that truly makes me happy…music! Care to join me?

Time and Time Again...

When all else fails who do you turn to?


From the beginning of our lives those of us that are fortunate, are given two people to look out for us, to bring us up, and to give us love. There is no road map for what children need and there are no instructions. Parents are given the opportunity to share their unique takes on the world and how life should be lived with their children. Thankfully my parents shared a unique and caring look at life and the pursuit of happiness. Encouraging my sister and I to leave no stone left unturned when it came to finding what we wanted out of life. Needless to say we were lucky.

As Father's day approaches and Mother's day passed us by a few short weeks ago, I am reminded that we don't tell our parents enough how we feel and how much we appreciated what they have done and do for us. Maybe they would like to be a fly on the wall when we bring them up in conversation among our friends - sharing warm stories of growing up. Maybe they would enjoy seeing us do the things that they wanted us to or thought we should - being successful at those respective activities or professions. But maybe not! Perhaps they are happy just knowing that we are okay, that we are safe, and that we are happy. It should make us flattered to the very core of our being, if we think that they look upon us as part of their accomplishments, and if we think that they don't have that opportunity…maybe we should strive to give them that joy.

At the end of this month my parents will celebrate their Thirty Sixth wedding anniversary. Thirty six years of birthdays, Father's and Mother's days, Christmas' and other milestones. Thirty six years of giving my sister and I their undivided attention. I guess that is what makes me feel the most blessed. The fact that I always knew they would be there when I called. That they would be glad to hear my voice…hopefully as glad as I was. Out of all the things they gave me over the years I am thankful that they both knew that their time was what was most important - and they gave of their time like it was ours (my sister and I) in the first place.

This weekend will come and go and I hope that if you don't get to see your Dad you have the chance to give him a call and tell him how you feel about him. If you're Dad's not around anymore I hope that Sunday is not a sad day, but only a day to reflect on good times and memories that you shared. Most importantly I hope we all take the time to think about all the time and love our parents gave and still give us. Life is an exciting ride and it always seems a little safer knowing that there are two people out there that always have your back!

Be Serious About Art

Strolling through an art exhibit at the capitol today I saw drawings and paintings produced by school children who live in Texas. This quick jaunt reminded of the creativity we have and sometimes lose. While pondering that thought it came to me that we really don't lose our creativity, we only lose our courage to use it. But why? Can adults not be creative - can we not use our imaginations? I think our creativity and imaginations should grow and improve rather than be put aside to tackle life in a more serious manner. Wait…did I just say serious? Creativity, imagination, and art are serious. Aren't they?


Every home, every bridge, every building and every skyscraper was designed by someone with the engineering or architectural skills as well as the creativity to allow those structures or buildings to not only stand alone; but stand apart. Florist, landscapers, carpenters, woodworkers, interior designers and the list goes on, of professionals that use their imagination and creativity everyday to improve the world that we live in. Without these two facets of our mind there may have never been an Eifel Tower, the Pyramids, Notre Dame, or the Empire State Building; and where would we be?

In the words of Lee Greenwood: "From the lakes of Minnesota to the hills of Tennessee…from New York to L.A.," we enjoy the beauty of many creative thinkers. The memorials of and State Houses of Washington D.C.; along with the monuments of our nation's start in Philadelphia; compared with New Orleans Garden District and the French Quarter, the hills of Hollywood, the Hoover Dam, our country is marked by beauty that man-made - new and old. Paintings, graffiti, sculpture - art is all around us and it excites me to know that we don't have to put away our paint brushes just because we are no longer going to art class after third period. Pull out those brushes and paint a picture that tells the story of beauty and love of mind. Live with me in a world that is secure in its seriousness just as it is of its mind.

Strolling through an art exhibit at the capitol today I saw drawings and paintings produced by school children who live in Texas. I am reminded of the joy that children bring us. While pondering that thought, I feel thankful to have passed through this hall way adorned with their art. Art that spoke to me in a way that only they could - without fear. Now more than ever I am reminded that it is our job as adults to let these kids know that we hear their voice, we get their message and we are listening!

Keeping it coming kids - onward and upward!

In a Moment

The best thing that I can think about airports is that sometimes these are the only places that we really have time to think about where we have been and where we are going. Being in the airport early in the morning or late at night - seemingly in brisk daze of flight numbers and gate codes that remind me of the ticker at the bottom of a news channel telling us how much we have lost or gained. A bag full of nothing important and a head full of all that mattered, meandering through this portal, passing people that will never know your name…where are we going?


In late December of 2001 me and one of my best friends Lynsey, flew to San Jose to visit her brother K.C., another dear friend of mine. He was teaching there at the time and Lynsey and I were both freshmen in college. I remember my Grandfather Buddy (step) telling me about the San Francisco he had known - in fact he and my parents helped me to finance that trip. I am sure that they were all worried but none of them bothered to hold me back. This was less than three months after 9/11 and security was seriously heightened; Lynsey and I were nineteen years old. The places that she and I have seen since then, together or separately, I am sure are greater because of that trip. As Joni Mitchell says so eloquently - " But now old friends are acting strange, they shake their heads and say I've changed. Well something's lost and something's gained in living every day."

Today I thought of that trip, maybe because it was misting rain. The same way it was the first time I ever laid eyes of the Pacific. Standing in a soft mist looking at an ocean that had been a picture in a book to me before that moment. The feeling of being somewhere else, somewhere that you always wanted to be, see, touch and feel - what a feeling! I remember being in Sly's Jazz Bar in Monterrey, a city that I found to be absolutely enchanting. I sat and listened to a lady in long dress sing "As Time Goes By." As her dress blew in the breeze from the opened windows I sang along knowing that I was in love with that moment in time. That was almost nine years ago, nine years since I crossed the Golden Gate Bridge, nine years since my first String Cheese concert…nine years.

My have time has changed, Joni you were oh so right! My old friends probably do laugh and say I'm strange…but I always was and maybe that is what they liked about me. I know it is what I liked about them. I know what you meant when you said: "Something's lost and something's gained in living every day." Thank God for that! It would be too exhausting to be young and foolish all our lives. Not that I'm not still young and a little foolish some days. Times change you, cities and people, family and friends, places in time leave a mark on us. These things help to strike a chord within and the moment that happens we come to the realization that from that then on we will see life from a different aspect. We will still be the same but tweaked. Thank God for those moments too. One day the collection of those moments will help us to reach the age of wisdom that people like my Grandfather did. The collected impact that those moments make turn us into what we become. After all we are all works in progress…thank God for that too!


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Word

As turmoil surrounds issues, organizations and leaders, we are reminded that our freedom is there for our taking. The problem might be that some take more than others. I have always felt that a good seat in the neutral section is a good place to ride out the storms, while friends are in the middle of a controversy. Fortunately, diversity in ideas creates different ideas for the future. So maybe, just maybe, all the time bickering and laying blame will not be completely wasted. Unfortunately, when we raise our flags against one another our strength weakens and it becomes sad to see that even the smallest of groups can't find the time to break bread and work things out.


I like to think that I am an even-minded and decent person. That said, for most of my life I have tried hard not burn bridges, to make friends and network in a way that is kind and helpful to others - not just myself, I have eagerly tried to be involved, informed, and productive when it came to my community and my neighbors. To me that is what it means to be an American. I don't think it has anything to do with what type of home you have, what kind of car you drive, if you are a VIP, or a member of the hoi polloi - where I am usually found. Being an American should not involve being judgmental, materialistic, anti-inclusive or quick to lay blame. If that is what it means to enjoy our freedoms then I think we have misused our own powers to create something that is ugly and certainly undignified.

People disagree - people think differently and individually. That is the very reason that you can drive down the street and see brick homes, stone homes, yellow, green and white homes. That is why there are malls and all sorts of shops, because people like different things. I like that and I will always stand by people that say: " Hey I think it needs to be done this way!" So long as they are willing to meet half way on the project. However, what I will not do is sling mud, lay blame, draw attention to the flaws of others, or slam people, issues, organizations and leaders. There is a graceful way to do everything and it pains me to see it when people that mess that up. I wince at the thought of crass and inconsiderate behavior taking itself to public stages. So much so that it makes me not want to be a member of the audience.

So here I am, little "ole" Me - neutral again…for now.

Hey, How are You?

Today while I was going through my to-do list, it seemed like my ideas were smearing into one another like ink on a page that has yet to dry. Rush , rush, hurry, hurry - that is the way things seem to have been going lately. To be completely honest I like to be busy; the rush and hurry seem to keep me going, smiling, and happy. But what happens when everything slows down? Then what? I suppose something will fill my time again…but who knows what that is?


Life is full of busy and slow times. Days that are like a blur and days that you seem to hear the clock tick but the time hardly changes. Days that no matter how hard we try the papers keep piling up, and days that the phone hardly rings. Regardless of how the day takes shape I think it is important to realize that every day is a day to get something done, to do your best, to see and do something new even. Every day is a time to be grateful for…because time is something that we should never take for granted.

So in a world filled with e-mail addresses, blogs, Facebook, twitter, cell phones, Skype, and all the other multimedia tools of connectivity - why should we ever feel disconnected? Why should our busy lives bog us down? In between work, meetings, happy hours and chores at home; I use these tools to keep up with my friends and family that are scattered all over the country. I am not the best at keeping up, but I do pretty well.

My nephew, Cole will be twelve on Saturday. A couple of years ago he began text messaging me. The first time I got a text from him I was so proud to be someone on his radar, later this year he added me on Facebook. I talk to Cole and his sister Sloane on the phone pretty often and their mom, my sister Shannon two or three time a week, most weeks. But to get these messages by phone, a text, an e-mail they are all uplifting. Just a little time that is taken out of busy schedules to let me that I am thought of. What's more important is that I can pay that forward. I can make phone calls, send texts and e-mails, I can do all these same things to pass along to someone else that I am thinking of them right then. So much so that I had to let them know.

When days fly by and all at once it's already June 2, and it seems like January just slipped past you - remember to make time for those that you love and care about. Don't be too busy for them because they're not too busy for you. This will allow us to live the busy life well. These little calls and moments help you not feel so bogged down. The little things…they matter a lot more than you think.

I feel challenged sometimes to get all the things done that I have to. Sometimes I don't think I have time but I really do. Today I am reminded that friends and family are what really matter. Time for them should be given without fail. That doesn't mean that I won't keep going at break necking speed - I'm afraid I can't slow down now. What it does mean is that they give me the energy and encouragement that it takes for me to keep going. They keep me in the clouds and not down in the dumps. Quite simply, they make my life meaningful and they make me feel fulfilled - I love that!