When he was a tall strapping two trunk stud, Double Dave would laugh at the harsh winds that sometimes blew in over the ridge and struck deep into his side of Mary's Woods. Dave would puff up his canopy after the storms passed and gloat about his lack of fear in the face of Ma Nature's awesome power.
The rest of the trees in the small preserve became tired of his constant bragging. They stopped talking to Dave. Everyone knew trees do not boast or show off. Trees are serious creatures; their lives dedicated to holding ground and providing sanctuary and sustenance to the many creatures and plants that depend on them. Being a blowhard is just wrong. Trees took their place in the world seriously. Double Dave was not a serious tree.
One night in the summer of 2008, a severe thunderstorm crested the ridge and roared into Mary's Woods. The canopy erupted in a panic of wild limb thrashing, as all the trees did their best to bend and not break. As usual, Double Dave laughed at the torrent hitting the preserve so hard. He called the others a bunch of nancies and told them to stand up and take it like a hardwood should.
The storm that hit intially, was just the calm before the real super cell hit 45 seconds later. Double Dave's twin trunk split and now his twin trunks were laying sad and splintered. Double Dave was done. He knew it. Before his lights went out, he declared;
"At least I didn't go out with a whimper!"
Dave never spoke another word. He did however, manage to face his death with well, not a grin, but what some trees contended was angry resignation.
From day that forward, he was known as "Mr. Grumpy Tree".
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I remember that storm. I am just not sure I have the year right. The storm took quite a few of the biggest pines and hardwoods out. Double Dave was not alone.
I did not notice the face until day before yesterday.
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Just found this tune. Here is "Banty Rooster", by Ashspider? It may be an A-I song. Don't care, I like it.
No matter how I try to ignore organized religion, I cannot ignore the massive pain and suffering organized religions have caused Humanity since the first time someone thought it was a good idea to make up an imaginary figurehead to run things. I say imaginary, because tangible proof of a Heavenly Father has yet to exist.
That declaration I just made might indicate I am an Atheist. If nothing else, it is a basphemous statement that should insure I will be hunted down and mightily smote down in the next thunderstorm. But I am not an Atheist. I am an Agnostic. My pocket Webster dictiionary I used in school defines Agnosticism:
Atheism and Theism depend on contrived and unproven absolutes. The Universe, the planets, and all of us assholes who live in said Universe could have had a creator, but as of this moment in time, it is Faith that people use to support their steadfast belief in a creator or not a creator. Both views depend on speculation.
I have no gripe with either train of thought. Believe what you want. Don't believe what you want. My only gripe is when religious people organize themselves into an organization; Religion can quickly morph into very strict hierarchial systems that can be easily turned into ugly times for millions of people. Oftentimes, religious dogma can be twisted through forked tongue rethoric and become the driving forces of governing systems of brutality and intolerance. It has been an all too common tendency since the beginnings of organized religions. Is there a theocracy existing today that is not draconion in many ways. Organized religion can become communities of exclusion not inclusion.
The extremists of Atheism are no better; though I will say, the numbers of Atheist extremists are miniscule compared to the huge numbers of religious extremists. For most Atheists, it is enough for them to not believe. Any extension of that into action seems to die on the vine.
Over the years and the many thoughts I wasted over Religion, I decided that if indeed we had a creator or creators, the only interest they might have had was to get this whole shit show started. Once they got the ball rolling, they moved onto other projects or maybe just retired to the big bar n grill in the sky where they fed their faces and drank cocktails with umbrellas in them. They don't seem to care what we do. Remember, the Christians believe we were handed "Free Will". That let the God crew off the hook and gave them plausible deniability should we screw the pooch and destroy ourselves.
Humanity created Good and Evil after milleniums of interactions with each other. We wrote the 10 Commandments. We wrote the Bible and then re-wrote it for white men who decided it was to their benefit, if they portrayed God and his only begotten Son as Blue eyed blonde haired WASPS from Connecticut. Of course not to be outdone, those pesky Babtists down South had to make Jesus into a Chuck Norris impersonator with a strap on Glock and a big buck knife sheathed but ready for close contact battle when the godless heathens managed to get in close.
Organized religion, particularily American Christianity, has become a joke. The different sects can't seem to agree on what makes a good Christian. They look down on each other, yet are not prone to criticizng the worst overreaching of the more extreme groups. If someone claims to be a good Christian, they don't have to live it. All they have to do is claim it.
What makes it so very funny and ironical lately is the Christian Nationalist Right insisting the Pope should stick to theology and leave politics out of his sermonizing. I am guessing this contradiction goes unoticed by them as they also seem prone to excuse the many contradictions found in their rule book, the Holy Bible. Stretching the truth to them is as easy as breathing.
Don't get me wrong. I understand that the majority of church going Christians are fine, regular folk. But unless more of these fine regular folk step up and call out the worst extremes of their religion, the fine regular folk will be looked on as enabling losers who are allowing their religion to be taken over by assholes.
That is all I have this mornin...... or make that, this afternoon.
Keep it 'tween the ditches ........................................
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I first heard this song when I was driving for SHOWCO, hauling Rock n Roll music from arenas to stadiums to wherever and back again in the mid 1970's. I was in one of my country music phases and would tune in to country stattions on my FM radio as I pounded the super slabs.
I think I was in Arkansas after leaving Dallas. This song came on and played. It struck me so funny, so Country, so much like Texas Redneck High School booster music would; the first chance I got, I found the album on cassette and bought it. Bobbi Bare was one of the old guard country singers who had his share of hits, but never quite made it to Merle Haggard levels.
"Drop Kick Me Jesus Through the Goal Posts of Life" reached #17 on Billboard's Country Chart in 1976. ....... I repeat, it hit #17 on the Billboard Country Chart. But it's classic country like I grew up with and I liked it. I would occasionally get shitfaced and start singing it. It was even more fun if folks around me joined in.
When I write a post for the BoZone, I often try too hard to be pertinent and clever. I tend to blow by the point I wanted to make by including extraneius bullshit that is no way pertinent to what I sat down to write about.
While my wish is to be clever and pertinent; sometimes , no make that oftentimes, I see a butterfly in my mind I haven't chased lately .... and off I go on a point destroying galavance........ just like I did at the outset of this post.
For me, the original goal of the BoZone is to have more relevance and less galavance. If nothing else, haa at least one point of connection to me; the times I live or lived in; something relevant others might be able to identify with and not the rampant inanities that often flow in and out of my mind on a regular basis. I tried to tell myself that by writing it all down, my focus on the point became clearer when I read it later. I convinced myself that writing helped me navigate the mania that exists in the world I have to live in. And because a lot of living is based on belief, If I think it helps me, it does. Just maybe not to the degree I imagine.
( NOTE - I thought I had created a new word - "Gallivance". Sadly, just more proof of what my mother claimed all the time, "There really is not anything new under the Sun, just tangents of the same old stuff". Gallivance is more commonly known as Gallivant or while out on a Gallivance, one is Gallivanting - roaming aimlessly without a clue.)
Now - The point I had considered before I derailed myself right out of the gate
A Trump created commission, the Religious Liberty Commission, has decided that the clause in the Constitution covering the Separation of Church and State is a lie. They call it an attack on people of faith.
My first objection to this "commission" is that it was created by the government at taxpayer expense with the sole goal of eroding more of our faith in the Constitution. To me, the commission's very existence is a violation of the Separation Clause in the First Amendment :
"Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof"
So what is this lie the Bible Thumpers are referring to? How does this clause inhibit the freedom of religion. Just like their nonsensical "How to be a Christian in 700 befuddling and Illogical pages", their sad attempt to undermine a law that benefits everyone only points to their ultimate goal of creating a theocratic state where no one is free.
On that note of relevance, I will halt this gallivance and .......... Gallivant on.
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I am getting better at finding music that fits my posts. This tune took only a few minutes to locate. I have never heard of TX2. They are an Emo/Alt band from Colorado. They are relatively new to the big league music scene I guess. Damn. Look at me, Mr. Hip who's up to date amd not late. I am still somewhat fly for an old fart guy. ;)
If some future posts seem hurried, well, they just might be. I find myself more interested in being outside and working my body than inside making a mockery of my mind by attempting to convince myself I have something important to share.
My inerita in the effort to beat back the jungle and improve the property has not just continued, the momentum has picked up in intensity. Each morning lately, I wake up with new aches and pains. They are the familiar pains from a life of blue collar labor; aches and pains from physical world not from the nasties, real or imagined, living inside my body. I know how to deal with pains that result from just being inactive. It's the new chronic level of aches and pains that exist no matter what I do.... they eat at me for sure.
Once I talk myself through the early morning discomforts, I look forward to working the muscles that have been dormant for so long. It's been awhile.
There is one new twist in my life that might have something to do with my emerging new mindset. I find I am not smoking the doob as much. Lately, if I take more than a toke or two, all I want to do is sleep. In other words, it's Wake an Bake in the morning and then nothing until the evening....... usually.
I read or heard somewhere it takes 21 days to break an old habit or pick up a new one. I am not sure how that specfic time frame came to pass, except that it seems humans have a need to build boxes around everything; create beginings and ends. Understanding something only happens if the idea has specific parameters. We do this unconcsiously in all aspects of our lives.
Defining everything helps us to fool ourselves that we are a logical and reasonable species. We do it with our writing. We do it with our properties. We do it with our borders. We do it with our lives. We do it because we have convinced ourselves that without clear lines, Chaos is the result. And if there is anything that makes most of humanity uneasy, it is Chaos.
Deep down, we know we are not the reasonable and even tempered species we pretend to be. Just the hate, discontent and pain we force on others shows our true colors. There are no such people as assholes if the whole population is comprised of assholes. At least, we seem to keep our assholery down to a dull roar most days.
Because I just confused myself and it is early in the day... And I have yet to Wake n Bake, I will leave it here.
Have a Super Day ...........................
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Hmm .............. I googled "Songs about Parameters".
What popped up surprised me. for the first time ever when playing Youtube music, I found not just one, but two tunes that had never been rated by anyone. The first one deserved to be ignored I guess. The second one, "Parameters", by Lost Perspective (I think) had only been posted a short time ago. I was the first to rate it. I liked it enough to share it here. It was the chorus:
"We are bound by Parameters"
"Holding the line"
"Respecting your hand"
"And respecting mine"
Seemed to fit into what I had in mind, so I am sharing it, I think, for the first time anywhere. The more I listened, the more I liked it. Played loud, played soft, works either way. .....
Spring comes to Maine later than it does in parts south. Yesterday, I saw my first Butterfly of this new Spring. I was over to Mary's Woods on my first official walk of the Spring with Maggie. She was shivering with exceitement when she realizied we were headed across Sam Page Road instead of to the back of our property for a quick P,P &S. Maggie lives to run in those woods across the road. Dog Heaven for sure.
What struck me was how more in tune I am now to the subtle changes in the yearly cycles Ma Nature puts my part of the planet through. As a kid growing up in so many different locales, I never had a real chance to settle in and notice the small changes that signal what is coming. Or maybe, it just took me years of being settled in one place to see the fine print that had been there all along.
Salmanders were one of my first signs of Spring here. My dad had warned me to watch out in basement early Spring:
"Watch where you step...... The Salamanders are horny. ...... Don't want to kill any, they're good luck you know."
There were other indications warm weather was actually going to return to Acton. The months old snow cover begins to shrink and the snow fleas show up. There are countless indicators I mostly missed, that now let me keep tabs on what previously dependable cycles to expect.
Yesterday, while over to Mary's Woods with Maggie, I was again reassured warm days lay ahead when the pictured butterfly landed on my knee as I sat on a log. It only sat still for a second or two before it was off again in flutter mode and heading where, I have no clue. It chased the Sunlight that flashed through the bare branches of early Spring. It seemed a tad cool for a first butterfly sighting, but well, what do I know?
After Maggie and I finished our walk, I looked up the butterfly. It is a "White Admiral" , a regular every Spring who climbs out of the larva it wintered in.
I was wondering why it seemed so disoriented. I mean, how can one tell a disoriented butterfly from an oriented one who knows where and what it is doing? Well, the normal appearance for these White Admirals in Maine is late May, early June.
Hmm........ Maybe this one hitch-hiked up from Maryland.
Keep it 'tween the ditches ................................
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I thought of a song perfect for this day. The Rascals released it in 1968. I was 14 and though it seemed a chick song, I always liked it ........ And still due. "A Beautiful Morning".
This post is about my dog, Maggie. Pet posts are always safe. Besides, it is National Pet Day; not to be confused with International Dog Day which occurs on August 26.
When Stubby passed. I did not want to replace her right away. Actually I decided I did not want another dog. Watching them die was just too painful.
2017 came. I sold my bikeshop, quit smoking and discovered I was hard into fighting another tick borne disease. I dropped into Depression mode. My wife decided what I needed was another dog. She found one at a local shelter; a four year old bitch from a puppy mill somewhere south of the Mason Dixon Line. She thought we two might get along. I was skeptical, but in respect to her efforts on my behalf, "Okay, okay, let's check her out."
I would go through the motions.
I will always remember our first encounter at the Kennebunk Shelter. BA went into the place to get Maggie while I sat on a bench in the cold and waited. She handed the leash to me:
"Take her for a walk, I have to fill out the papers."
I had not yet said okay, but said nothing. Maggie sat down near me, but not next to me. The leash was stretched out.. We looked at each other for some moments sizing each other up I guess.
I stood up. Maggie stood up. Good start I thought. She was the right size and seemed even tempered. I wondered how many litters she had to endure before she picked up heartworms and the puppy mill got rid of her. All the while she just looked at me. When I looked at her, she responded with a tentative tail flick, but not much else. No barking, no sounds at all.
I began to walk. She caught on immediately and kept pace with me. When I stopped, she stopped. Cool, at least one of us seems to know how to walk a dog. I certainly was not good at it. All of our dogs to that point very rarely had to endure a leash. We live in the sticks and voice commands work most of the time.
That day turned into a nine year mutual love affair. Like every pet we have shared our lives with, Maggie was unique combination of the times and trials in her life before we hooked up. She decided she loved me and gives me a daily hump to show her affection. I did not know female dogs carried on like brain dead males. Learn something everyday. Life is like that if we pay attention.
Keep it 'tween the ditches ..............................................
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How's the Yardwork going - So far, 20 plus hours and a trailer full of pucker hauled to the dump.
Tomorrow, I start on the mess roadside.
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I immediately thought of Charlie Parr's song "Dog". Enjoy.
I recently decided that I was going to stop embracing the "woe is me" mindset regarding Old Age. Eight or nine years ago, I picked up another tick borne disease and next, within a year I had the worse run of gout I had ever had. I also chose that time to quit smoking tobacco. I was a mess. I hated Life. I figured selling my bike shop and retiring was the thing to do. Functioning like I used to was not happening anymore. My weight ballooned to 306 pounds. I became a chubby lizard on a sad rock, fat and not happy.
In 2024, the negative effeccts of the tick borne illness lessened and the gout was under control. The off and on again Depression that came with the medical issues dissapated. I was ready or so I thought, to re-emerge full of piss and vinegar again. I had already lost a serious chunk of weight, dropping forty pounds.
For the last two years, the positive swing I had been on stalled.... many times it stalled. Since then I have only lost approximately 16 pounds or so. I was still not exercising, telling myself, my knees and hips just weren't up to the task anymore. I remained an unhappy whiner who has had no one to blame but myself. I bet in the last two years, I have promised myself once a week, I was going to Man Up, say "Fuck the Pain" and actually get over this mental plateau I created for myself.
I have made headway with the diet problem. But diet without exercise does not a complete weight loss plan make. I was unsure if I could ride my bikes, as my balance had become shaky over the past 8 or so years. What to do?
I remembered a friend in the area who began a fitness program by working his property using as little machinery as possible. Get a workout and make property improvements. I have considered this idea before and even promised to start doing it "next Spring", but for several years, it has been an empty promise.
Finally, over the last week or so, I have been outside poking at the obvious yard issues. At this point, I am concentrating on cutting back the jungle, particularily the recent invasion by a vine from away, called Asiatic Bitterseet. The best time to attack it is before the leaves show.
Since I started, I have dropped another five pounds. I have worked through the pain and now with each new day of grunt work, I find I hurt less when I get up in the morning. I won't say I am back or claim "Mission Accomplished" yet. I am not even close, but maybe I have turned the broken promises into a "Maybe this Time".
In an effort to carry this effort through to a satisfying conclusion, I also hope to record my progress here in the BoZone as the warm seasons pass by.
Later ......................................
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I am just picking a tune I like. ....................
I got lost. I Googled "Number One Hits of........." First up was 1963, then 1964, 1965, ...you get the picture. I tasted so many Teen Club hits from those years, my brain numbed out and the smiles I was enjoying made my face hurt.
I was looking for the one song that defined that Teen Club period of my life. Finally, as I began to write this, "My Girl", by The Temptations hit the target. No song represented the awkward intensity of learning how to deal with young girls as a young teenaged boy. Clumsy moments of making out outside the club, sucking down some of the first alcohol of my life, and smokin my first joint. ...... Yeah, "My Girl" is a good choice alright.
I have a blog that does not allow comments to be edited after they have been posted. It is an old blog; been around over 20 years. I imagine the software that created it is a tad out of date. The smart thing to do would be to create a major makeover, maybe even switch to Wordpress from Blogger because I am told that anyone still using Blogger is a loser, a dinosaur, a dimwit who can't keep up with the pace of the World today.
Let me just say, I am guilty on all counts. I have often experienced periods of "Loser-ness"; maybe not enough to place me anywhere near the top ten; afterall, I am no Donald Trump. At 74 years of age, If not a dinosaur, I think it is safe to say I have successfully made it to the land time forgot. I sure party hardy with them. And regarding being a dimwit; that would be directly related to who you might ask. The Wingers would certainly agree. Hell, I would often agree. But then I don't care what people think of me other than my family and a friend or two. Long ago, I lost the battle to convince my wife I am of sound and coherent mind. Others in my family, again, it would depend on who you might ask. My over the edge MAGA brother.... you can imagine.
But back to the topic. It is damn frustrating when the shiny objects passing by can't be resisted. Anyway ......
I have stated I cannot edit my posted comments on my blog. The software won't allow it. This morning I replied to one of my few commenters:
"I take intermittent breaks from playing with the brainless Winger Buffons"
I did manage to catch my error before I hit the "publish" button. As I corrected it, I considered the mistake, "Buffons". If "Buffon" was a real word, I imagine the definition would go something like :
Buffon - A person or persons who practice the fine art of Buffoonery. They are proud of their buffoonery; so much so, they refer to the most talented among them as "Buffoonerists".
No group has currently embraced Buffoonery as wholehearedly as the Right Wing of American Politics. They revel in thier buffoonery, yet, they get pissy when called Buffoons by anyone other than fellow Buffons. It's one of those tribal prerogatives. It's okay when they use it, but no one outside the tribe can. Severe pantie twisting among the faithful ensues, mouths are likely to foam and generational revenge plans are laid to someday pay back the offender or their offspring for the insult.
The Buffons of the Right have become so emboldened, they are now allowing more of their group's buffoonery to leak out into the light of day. Why, just a day or two ago, someone leaked pictures of the husband of their own Kristi Noem, the ex- head of DHS. Apparently her husband is a cross dresser with a fondness for big boobs....... wearing them, that is.
I personally do not care what anyone chooses for a wardrobe. But then I am an avowed dimwitted Libtard who just wants everyone to get along. The Tribe of Buffons are dismissive of any criticisms even though his prediliction for ladies wear flies in the face of their public image of God Fearing, Straight Shooting Missionary Position, Church Going Puritan Lifestyles. It is no wonder us dimwits cannot figure out where their heads are really at. I mean within their ranks, they seem to sport a high percentage of convicted pedophiles, election fraud practioners, and scam artists, who have chosen hypocrites to lead their assault on America.
Keep it 'tween the ditches ..............................
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The perfect song for what our nation is dealing with today was written for the 1973 Broadway musical, "A Little Night Music" by Stephen Sondheim. The song seems to draw a parallel to Life's struggles when things are not panning out. "Send in the Clowns" in stage speak, refers to a play or musical that is struggling....... time to "Send in the Clowns".
It was first sung by Glynis Johns in the musical and later became a song many top singers wanted to cover. Some folks consider Judy Collins' and Frank Sinatra's covers the best of the bunch. Being at heart, a RocknRoll, Blues kinda guy, I searched for a RnR cover.
I found that there were precious few RocknRoll covers of "Send in the Clowns"; actually not more than one or two recent covers anyway. I tasted over ten songs and none of them hit even close to how good Judy Collins' version was in my opinion. Here is Judy Collins' cover from 1975.
I found a very interesting and yeah, biased video regarding the primary battle between the two Maine Democrats, Janet Mills and Graham Platner; both running to replace Susan Collins, the Queen Republican Party Hack in the Senate. It features the controversey of a Mills TV ad about misogynistic statements made by Platner in his past. It then does an excellent job of defining the stark differences between Progressive Democrats and Establishment Democrats.
From the video, I picked up more insights into the overall insanity that makes up American politics. It always pleases me when I learn something, even if it is something I should have been aware of in the first place.
The video begins with the Janet Mills TV ad that has fired up Democrats all over the state. So, don't think it is another Youtube commercial moment and skip it. It is important to watch in order to appreciate the context found in the rest of the video.
I really like Jane Mills; she is one of my favorite pols of all time. But like me, she is an old fart and a dyed in the wool estabishment Democrat. Trying to hold onto the Center rather than attacking the Right is what is at stake I think. Short term goals before long term ones. What do we do? Stay course with the only goal, defeating Trump and his movement? Or do we get back to the party roots from 60 years ago and once again push for change that makes sense in the ever faster spinning wheel that is our culture today? The Republicans want to return to the past. The old skool Democrats don't seem to object, except for the brutal measures the Right wants to use to get there.
There is no reason we can't do both, except for the obstructions caused by traditional intractability of a well established hierarchy's policies. The Kids want to change directions. I am coming around to the idea that we should let them. After all, how successful have we been using the "handwringing, why can't we just all get along" style. Civility and polite banter has no affect on the rabid dogs of the Right. They want blood to run from every encounter now. The Left needs their own rabid dogs to take the lead. It's sad and I hate it, but the Left's tactics of the last decade have failed.
This excellent video has me thinking, "Just what kind of Democrat am I? Establishment, play it safe, don't rock the boat too hard like Kamala and Joe did? or do I take the plunge and put my support behind a movement just beginning to rise up out of the political devastation created in the Democratic Party by Trump?
I know the answer. The answer began to come to light over twenty years ago with the rise of the Tea Party. I saw the handwriting on the wall, but I was not close enough to read it well. As the Right moved further and further to the Right, I straddled the middle less and began to move further Left; which brings me to where I am today; a very pissed off Liberal who is unhappy with the Democratic Party and absolutely hates the Republican Party, the party I was born into and supported for a short duration as a young adult. The only thing that keeps me with the Democrats is they are the only group still standing in the way of a complete meltdown of the country I grew up in, raised a kid in, and lived the last 74 years in.
The Kids are right. New blood is needed. It is time to pass the torch.
I need to stop now. I need a break from this topic. I need some air, maybe a toke or two so I can unwind from the angry man I wound myself into this morning.
Thanks for listening ......................................
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I created a political playlist in my Youtube collections. Videos ,songs and commentary pieces all jumbled together in a group that reflects my loose dog way of living. I don't remember adding this song to the list. Figures. Anyway, here is an an A I video from "Mr. Newberger's A I Funnies", "Straight to Hell".
Enjoy it or don't. But no matter what, the volume should be turned up to WOW! Or not; in case it is music you want to fall asleep to.
