A One Billion Dollar Tourist Trap

Sometimes I waste time worrying about the forest instead of paying attention to the trees in front of me. I do not know how this stupid idea passed me by without my notice. It certainly did. Bringing it up now is truly a johnny come lately moment. It is a good thing other folks paid some attention.

I am referring to the proposed tallest flagpole in the world being erected in, or more precisely close to, Columbia Falls, Maine (Pop +/- 500). It is to be taller than the Empire State building with a flag larger than a football field waving from it. There will also be the normal support structures, roads, and asphalt parking lots on a 10,000 acre parcel of previously undisturbed land. A one  billion dollar tourist trap.

The "Flagpole of Freedom Park" is to be privately funded through donations mostly. I am not sure where the other money is coming from, but I damn well will raise holy Hell if it comes out of the taxes I pay, state or federal.

The man responsible, Morrill Worcester, is also the man responsible for "Wreaths over America", a seasonal event in which over 1,000,000 wreaths are laid on the graves of American Veterans at Christmas time. 

I applaud the wreath gig, but well I have never been fond of flag waving as a form of chest puffing and patriotic posturing. And spending a billion dollars and wasting 10,000 acres to do it seems the epitome of  over the top, "only in America", chauvinism. I'd rather see someone build the world's largest lobster trap in Jonesport, Maine, just a few miles away. 

Thankfully this proposed eyesore hit some resistance right out of the gate as do most projects that threaten to scar the beauty of Maine. Mainers are cautious about anything new and grander than their imaginations. Mainers seem to favor the simple beauty and calm of our state above almost anything else. 

We deal with tourists because we have to. More often than not, folks from away are held at arm's length, even as they are handed that lobster roll with their glass of craft beer. Tourists are greeted mostly with gruff ambivalence but on Labor day we might show up at the York Tollbooth on the Pike and enthusiastically wave and bid the tourists a fond farewell as they head back from whence they came.

So, the lofty plans of the newest PT Barnum scam to come around has run into a snag. DEP (Maine's equivilant to the Fed's EPA) stopped construction of 54  cabins to used to house Construction workers and later to be turned into rentals. Our DEP does not fool around. They are sticklers of some of the strictest environmental laws in the country. And like any state department worth their salt, they never get in a hurry. 

The prognosis is at least a delay of months, maybe years and hopefully forever. Locals have divided opinions that have now brought the rest of the state into it. I am hoping it gets no further than it has. I say erect the damn thing in Texas near El Paso and overlooking Trump's Wall. If the wall can't keep em out, maybe a ridiculously large flag will. 

Keep it 'tween the Ditches .......................

________________________________

How do I find a tune that fits with this. 

YO. ..... YO! I'm Eben and this is Maine Rap. Make room for "Mr Man!"

Tsundoku

I grew up in a home filled with books. It seemed a natural progression that I would make my own mark on that collection by creating my own personal library. Friends coming over for the first time were always surprised by the full shelves of books and magazines found everywhere a book shelf or table resided. 

My dad was the non fiction collector. My mom was not so focused. Her tastes were all over the place, but I think historical novels might have been her favorites. As for me, I gravitated immediately to SciFi as my almost complete Tom Swift Jr collection by age ten attested. From there I bought as many SciFi books as I could. My collection now is sizable.

This old house was chock full of books when my Aunt Helen died. Her library needed a home, so the cream of her library has been absorbed into this library. All told, I am guessing there are several  thousand books here in the house; everywhere I look and everywhere I don't.

People have asked me if I have read them all. I am always honest and say no. Then why do you have so many, is often their next question. Answering that question has always been tough for me. It does seem a waste I guess to have so many books I have not read. I will usually tell them I have had most of these books surrounding me my whole life and I plan on that continuing up to the day I go terminally inert. I continue to have pangs of guilt over the fact I have only read a pitiful percentage of them. I make myself feel better by reminding any one who might be critical that some of the books I have read, I have re-read many of them 10 or more times.

Whatever.

Just recently I discovered there is a term for the kind of book collecting I practice. The Japanese call it Tsundoku. As I understand it, just owning books can boost one's level of Life enjoyment. Books, whether read or not, offer possibilities not available should they be absent. One book unread means there will will always be something new to learn should we take that path. Owning books is about being comfortable and feeling safe. Books protect me from the public displays of stupidity and inanity. I get tired of what's happening out in the World, I can just hunker down in a world that has nothing else to do but entertain me.

The only thing better than reading books I guess would be writing one.

Keep it 'tween the ditches .................................. 

________________________

"Rocket Man" written by Bernie Taupin and recorded by his main squeeze at the time, Elton John is the musical pick for this post. 

I did not know it, but Bernie had just finished reading the short story, "The Rocket Man"after which he wrote this song as a homage to Rad Bradbury who wrote the original story as part of his "Illustrated Man" collection of short stories.

An added bonus is many of Ray's writings were put on banned book lists off and on over the years. At this point I believe they are back on "The do not read, you will be woke when you finish" list.

Forgotten Flowers

My yard has been in a serious state of disarray for 3 or 4 or maybe even 5 or 6 years now. The jungle I used to beat back to a stalemate in days gone by took every advantage it could these past years and now I imagine the jungle decided it has finally won. 

No matter how overgrown my yard gets, one of the plantings will always raise a hand to let me know they are still hanging in there.

The flowers to the left are the progeny of an escapee seedling I dug up from a neighbor's garden path, oh, I guess about 8 years ago. I had no idea that little transplant I left to its own devices would grow so big and strong. But it did and it is one of the few stand outs still standing.

And I still do not know what it is.

Well, if I was unable to fight the good fight?

A couple of ringers, hired guns, professionals were brought in. 

They handed the jungle its first defeat in years I believe. 

Now that some light drifts in, I am inspired, 

Hopefully for more than a minute or two.

It's been painful, unkind and blows my mind.

Sloth combined with age is a tough row to hoe.

But hoe we must, or the sooner we turn into dust.

_________________________

Once I found this tune, "Forgotten Flowers"  by John Fulbright, my search for a tune halted. Its folksy, but a good listen.

Arguing With Myself

I have often referred to the thoughts that bounce around in my head as being generated by a group and not by the single, self administering entity I represent myself to the Public at large. Sadly or maybe not, there is a rowdy group inside who often end up driving the narrative. They are opinionated, loud, often unbending, and each one wants to be heard before any other. 

As it turns out, I am a classic example of what happens when a committee has some sway. I used to fight it, but my fate was sealed early in life when, after a rather long period of internal turmoil over whether to lie to my father or not to lie about some childhood crisis of no worth but I was sure it was the end of the world as I knew it kind of situation. I discovered there were more than the couple of voices offering their concerns, their predictions and following up with some future demands. 

I was overwhelmed. 

Instead of fighting the rabid pack, I caved. I am the boss pretty much in name only now. I'm the front man, the happy go lucky public face. It took some years and more than a few internal riots for me to finally embrace the group. I just have to give them some time to vent, point fingers and piss and moan. I then come in as a calming voice and usually I will settle it. Not everyone is happy, but, well, that's life for a bunch of alternate egos crammed into a small space. Ultimately, the buck stops with me.

The two most common and early voices that made themselves known to me were the shoulder voices who espouse the differences between good and evil as it relates to something we have a mind to do, something we have already done, or worse of all, when we are right in the middle of what we are doing at that moment in Time. Nothing worse than second guessing oneself while one's hand is actually in the cookie jar.

I have read that the shoulder angel and the shoulder devil represent the Superego and the Id. Portrayed cutely in cartoons, they boil down everything we think about or consider into two choices: Good and Evil. Well, I contend that when I consider something by rolling it about even a little in my mind, more than a couple of voices have an impact on the final decision. 

While simplicity and the idea of K.I.S.S.( Keep it simple stupid) has its place in most decisions, denying the existence of all the other voices found in the void between black and white can lead one into cult like traps of the political and religious kind. Life is not Black or White. We all know it I think. Just some of us prefer to put their faith in knee jerk decisions based the poorly considered notions of good & evil someone else has come up with.Internal debate I think is crucial in the path to critical thinking.

In the end, what it all comes down to is if you encounter me trail side somewhere and I am arguing with myself ...........  

Just tip your hat and pass on by.

____________________

Listening to classical music has been a guilty pleasure of mine over the years. I blame my parents, specifically my father. He was not a fan of the human voice as a musical instrument. Classical music, marching music and some Jazz were what he liked.

The above post is a direct result of the Classical music I listened to as I wrote.

Please enjoy, or if that isn't possible, endure Mozart's "Flute Quartet in D, K. 285". Played at a low to moderate level is what I would advise and then relax.

Its Sleepy Joe's Fault

I have become used to the White Wingin Right blaming every problem under the Sun on the Libtards and our President, Sleepy Joe Biden. As Sleepy Joe seems to be kicking their ass, what does that say about the GOP and their rank and file? I guess when a group has nothing of substance to offer its constituency, laying blame is one of the few tricks they still have in their quiver. 

The latest bloviating brain dead Winger stupidity comes from Congressman " Long Dan  Silver" Crenshaw from that political idiot's paradise, the state of Texas. He has blamed, Uh, insinuated the Coast Guard and possibly even Sleepy Joe did not act in a timely manner, making them at the least, partially responsible for the submersible tragedy:

“I have been hearing a lot of concerning things from people, the civilian side who are involved in this,” Crenshaw said Thursday in a statement to reporters. “You know, we’ve got to look into it, see what’s true and what isn’t. … What appears to be the case is epic failure in leadership. Where exactly that leadership failure is, I don’t know. Is it the White House, Coast Guard, Navy? I’m not sure.”

Up until I read this moronic statement from a leader on the Right, I was going to walk around the submersible incident. It was a tragedy to be sure, but let's face it, it was a self inflicted, bought and paid for tragedy that could have been avoided. Any blame to be laid, falls squarely on the shoulders of Oceangate, the company who built, owned and ran the submersible.

Yet, because they have more time on their hands because they can't actually govern, Wingers can only waste time and band width spreading more hate and discontent that literally has no substance.  .... I repeat, has no fuckin substance. 

And the sad joke that the GOP has become, continues to build its legacy.

When will the Right wake up?

Later ....................................

______________________________

The 1967 hit, "Chain of Fools", by Aretha Franklin is a song about a woman done wrong by her asshole boyfriend.

Chain Chain Chain

Chain Chain Chain

Chain of Fools

The refrain perfectly describes the current political population of the Right Wing.

The Trump Rule

Lately, I have been consciously avoiding news feeds of all kinds that stink of politics or religion; including but not limited to only TV news, articles in my magazines and even Op/Ed pages I have been reading for years. I have been unsuccessful for the most part. I just can't seem to drive by without looking at the massive multi-car wreck that is our nation at the moment. There's idiots fucking up my country more than the usual amount. 

I have cut back on the quantity of news I suck in. But I have had mixed results keeping my pen in my pocket and not commenting. No matter where I look, I see new concerns becoming full blow fears that smell like trouble for us whether they happen or not. Often just creating an unreasonable fear of something helps to support the huge cluster fuck of dysfunctional government we are busy creating. 

Artificial Intelligence (A.I.) has once again found mainstream interest outside the fringes it first found the light of day. A.I. has popped to the forefront of American imaginations and concerns off and on since 1920 when the Word "Robot" was introduced in a play by Karel Capek.

This time it is different, or at least the newer concerns seem more earnest, honest, and are coming from smarter folks than I am. We no longer have to only wonder if A.I. might be capable of replacing us. It is obvious that left unchecked it could certainly happen.

The alarm seems to be louder now and that is good. More conversations regarding A.I. might actually result in some controls that will protect us from the evil of a land ruled by Terminators. My concern is that our knee jerking politicians are likely to allow their fear of rabid A,I. or non concern over A.I. to create poorly contrived sets of rules to assuage or nurture the mindless fears created by those same politicians.

There is an obvious need to rein in the possible misuse of A.I. right now before we allow it to get out of control. Defining how it is used in the dissemination of news and information for instance with an election coming up should be our first priority.

My wife and I discussed this aspect of the new threat coming. She indicated that there should at least be required signage on any ad, printed or aired, that tells the consuming public that what they are about to see is A.I. created, either fully or partially. I nodded and agreed she had a good point.

After a moment or two of mulling this use of A.I. beginning to affect our lives more than ever, I said, 

"Maybe we should not allow A.I. to ever evolve at a higher intellect than say, well, yeah, why not, ..... no A.I. with an IQ higher than Donald Trump."

"If we use his obvious clueless-ness about everything under the Sun as our benchmark for the maximum limit on Robotic brain power, he will end up with a legacy that not only will make him glad, but will possibly warm the cockles of his clueless minions, allowing them to calm some and come back down to earth. .... We can call it the "Trump Rule"."

I paused a moment and re-ran my previous consideration. ...... Hmm.. I backed up some and said,

"But it appears we cannot control even a dull mind such as Trump has. Maybe we need to lower that bar to "Barely Awake' just to be on the safe side.

My wife looked at me. It was a look that said, "After what I just said, you come up with this?"

She finished packing her lunch without another word and I silently sipped some more coffee.

Keep it 'tween the ditches ......................................

____________________

In the Fall of 1976, I started a job hauling sound and light equipment for SHOWCO, which was at the time, one of the biggest sound and light companies in the World. My first tour was for the WHO. And this song was the opening tune for every gig. Please enjoy "Won't Get Fooled Again". 

I can remember standing behind the huge speaker stack, stage left, at my first gig and discovering how awesome it was to feel so many decibels pulsate through my body. 

Angry Crows in My Brain

When I finally woke up for real this morning, my feet hit the floor and I stood up. An immediate wave of nauseous bewilderment passed through me. Well, let me just say I felt like dog shit looks. I floundered around for a couple of hours feeling sorry for myself and wondering if I had caught something during yesterday's Father's Day forays around and about southern Maine.

It was only moments ago when I sat down to write something, anything just to distract myself from my sorry self and how I had been sure I would be out of it for a protracted period. ............ I was finally able to make sense of what the angry crows in my brain were going on about.

They reminded me and assured me I would only suffer for a short time; at least within the scheme of the how long a life well lived or poorly tolerated might last. Finally, a louder voice than the rest spoke up okay, and shouted:

"You have a Fuckin Hangover you Fuckin Idiot."

"Hmm. Okay. Yeah, that might explain it."

Instantly I saw daylight on my horizon. I knew a hangover was survivable contrary to the evidence at the moment. I had survived multitudes of hangovers in the checkered days of my darker past. This too is most likely just a reminder of the many moments of inebriation from my younger and dumber days. I felt somewhat better and at the same time somewhat older than I was yesterday.

It has been quite a few years since I have been hungover to this degree. But like my days of yore, I felt the automatic survival response kick in. I reheated yesterday coffee, rolled a doob and sat down to write about the days when I often felt like this several mornings a week.

The crows have finally stopped their squawking. They are enjoying the cannabis now and quietly playing with the bright doo dads I left in the room to distract them. Yeah, its finally down to dull roar in there.

I might just get something done today. .............. Mmm, Probably not.

Later ..............................

___________________________

Please enjoy "Slightly Hung Over", by Blues Delight.

And again because of my new rule of including a tune with each post, I have discovered a new band to me. And best of all it is a band that plays the Blues.

Father's Day - 2023

My wife has a gift certificate to Gniess Brewing, which according to Google is exactly 12.5 miles from my doorstep. I don't know who gave her the gift certificate so long ago, but today it will finally be appreciated. ...... No No, as it is a 50$ gift certificate, it will be deeply appreciated.

Gniess is a geological term for metamorphic rock. Many of their different beers have something geological in their names. One of the two partners is /was a postal worker and the other was/is a geologist. I am guessing trying to find an intriguing or even a humorous name related to moving the mail would be tough. The only thing I could think of would be naming it "Going Postal Brewery". Nah, that would not send the right message. Better to use a name that folks might wonder about and ask about.

Established in 2013 and now in their 10th year, Gniess has come a long way from the days of a few beers on flight boards served outside and big howlers filled to take home. They now have a tap room and they can their beer regularly to sell commercially at stores and bars. My family and I have been consuming their beers, stouts, and ales now for at least 8 years.

I think the recent craft brewing trend can trace its roots back to when Sam Adams was first brewed and sold back in the 1980s. Since then there has been an expansion of craft breweries in all 50 states. Consistently though the largest number of new craft breweries have been locating in New England. Up until a few years ago, Maine was at the top with largest per capita breweries in the country. And now, with over 150 craft breweries, they have fallen to #2 behind Vermont who sports a higher per capita with less breweries. 

I did not mean this post to become an infomercial. It was supposed to be about spending some quality time with my kid and my wife, drinking beer in small glasses and then eating an early dinner at some local eatery. And now with that previous sentence, I have fulfilled my original intent. 

....... Father's Day with daughter and wife. Basic, nothing complex about it, yet Father's Day is more important to me than any birthday, Hell, more important than any other other holiday you may think of. Being a Father is the one thing I can claim I did not screw up, the one thing I can take pride in. The one thing that makes my existence on this planet worthwhile.

My daughter fills me with gratitude that I was able to help such a wonderful person make it to adulthood. She basically did it on her own. Thankfully, I was smart enough to stay out of her way.

Keep it 'tween the ditches ..........................................

____________________________

I found a great tune by Paul Simon, "Father and Daughter" that does a damn good job of describing how I feel about my kid. ................ Enjoy.

Cooking

I remember learning to cook back in my impoverished college student days. It did not take long to notice that cooking food rather than buying it ready to eat made the monthly stipend last longer. If I was careful, I often had some extra cash to support at least a small pot and beer budget.

I learned the basics from my mom and from a cookbook she gave me when Bean, BeBop and I shared a first apartment in the Towson, Maryland area in 1971.

Being a cookbook of meals comprised of basic and inexpensive food stuffs, the recipes were simple enough to understand by an illiterate wannabe chef like myself. I became a decent cook who usually could be depended on to serve something palatable on the nights it was my turn to cook.

I still have that book as the photo I just took moments ago will attest. And not only do I still use it, my wife, who has been feeding our family for decades, also uses it sometimes. The book is often misplaced on the shelf of over 60 cookbooks amassed over the years by my parents and my wife. It is the only cookbook I use now.

Okay, so I have established that I learned enough food prep back the day to provide myself and my wife sustaining nourishment without all the drama of a newly wed cooking their first few meals. I still screw up on occasion, but for the most part all my recent meals have been within the parameters of edible.

I haven't taken over cooking for the two of us. That will never happen. One reason is my wife actually likes to cook, though I think she would not be inclined to admit it. And second of all, I am an eater first and a cook only when I have to be one.

It seems I am at a crossroads of sorts. I can continue to create the same meals I have mastered or kick this chef gig into a higher gear like I did the other night. I tried out a new recipe I found on the Internet after googling "Pork Chops". The recipe promised, after an easy peasy, no muss no fuss, 45 minute flurry of labor, I would be serving the juiciest, most flavorful pork chops ever.

Hmm.

The pork chops turned out fine, although not the juiciest I have ever had. They were indeed flavorful though. What did not happen was the no muss, no fuss easy peasy, 45 minute flurry of activity part. It was a two hour torturous floundering through cooking Hell that left the kitchen in shambles and me wondering why I decided to believe I could cook.

In the end though, the meal was as good as anything I have come up with recently and my wife actually designated some of the leftovers as her lunch the next day.

Mission accomplished.

___________________________

What particular music would fit in here?

According to family lore, the first music I listened to and responded to as a toddler was the country music that was broadcast from Denver down the east face  of the Rockies to our home in Colorado Springs in the early 1950's. Supposedly, when "Hey Good Lookin", by Hank Williams came on, I would start dancing. 

Anyway, enjoy Hank at his toe tapping best.

Indictment Day

Tuesday was Indictment Day. Thousands of media types, newscaster types, and hordes of talking heads from both sides of the aisle were sporting woodies over what was to happen when the orange asshole walked into a courtroom down in Miami.

As it turned out, all the frenzied what ifs, what might happens and general alarmist bullshit the media came up with was a tempest in a teacup. Donald plead not guilty to 30 plus counts of being extremely stupid and extremely sleazy. His supporters whined a bunch and are still whining. 

Donald then got on a plane and flew back north and started whining about the same tired shit he and his boot licking fans have complaining about since 2016; Hillary's emails and Hunter's laptop.

SSDD. If Trump sees the inside of a jail cell, if only for a moment, I will be ecstatic. I won't hold my breath though.

Tuesday was also Pot Brownie Bake day. I bake up medicinal brownies to help my wife deal with her sleep related issues since her fight with cancer in 2017-2018. 

I'll admit the drudgery of baking is ameliorated by the fact that I get to lick the spoons, the bowl,  and the mixing blades. Once licked, it takes about 45 minutes for the mixer leavings to kick in. And then it becomes time to think about the couch and how comfortable it will be for the remainder of the day.

I have the process down now. From pan to brownie, the 2+ hour effort ends up with approximately 120 ten gram brownies that supply BA for about 3- 3 1/2 months. The brownies are excellent with no cannabis aftertaste or grit because I use hash oil I distill from my own crop.

These two "highlights" of a perfect day got even better when I learned that the vote I cast in the morning at the Town Hall helped put a new friend on the Select Board. 

For me it was a Super Tuesday.

__________________________

For this post I am offering up a song I have been looking for almost any excuse to post. It is a duet by Billy Strings and Willy Nelson. It is called "California Sober". 

Passing a Baton

June is a busy month for politics here in Acton. Every 2nd Saturday in June, we have the annual town meeting where we vote on a variety of issues, budgetary and operational, while political votes happen the following Tuesday at the Town Hall. Polls open at 8:00 AM and close at 8:00 PM.

The town meeting used to happen in the Acton Town Hall. Now it is held in the Acton School gym. The reason for the change some years ago was the recent population growth created expectations and hopes that the Town Hall would not be big enough to hold all the new concerned citizens at one time.

I am grateful they switched to the gym, but not because there are more people coming to the Town Meeting. With more chairs set up, there is more space for the same 75 people to spread out. Town Meetings are wonderful places to see just how uninterested folks are in how their government operates.

The town meeting was a ho hummer, but less tedious that previous years. The vote on Tuesday however surprised me. And if it surprised me, I am guessing the old fart conservative cartel that has had a firm grip on town politics since, well, forever is all abuzz. A Left of Center, Gay Hispanic who is only maybe 30 years old snatched one of the  two open Select Board seats. 

I got to know this young man back during the state elections for the Legislature in Augusta. He was running for State Senate. He stuck his sign in ground I considered my yard without permission. Yeah, yeah, yeah, State law permits political signs on right of ways next to town roads. But locally, it is considered good form to ask the homeowner if placing the sign is okay with the homeowner. 

We had a discussion. Daniel explained he had a right to put the sign there and I explained that I would not be held responsible if the sign disappeared. I remember asking him about himself. He was born in Central America and adopted by the Norwood family when he was a toddler. He has only ever known Acton as his home and public service is all he has ever wanted to do. As we talked, I decided I liked this young man. I left the sign in the ground. 

He lost that race for the State House.

Tuesday, he won a seat on the Select Board. And another political career is launched, a baton has changed hands here locally, and Life continues to reinvent itself. Something tells me Daniel is just getting started.

There is hope after all.

Keep it 'tween the ditches ............................

____________________________

Only one tune came to mind when I thought about what song would dovetail into this post. "Changes" by David Bowie was of course the tune I thought of. It is a song about the only thing we can count on is change. And if we are smart, we will embrace it. 

Summer Has Finally Arrived

I saw my first dragonfly of the summer yesterday. For me, that is the first sign of real summer here in Maine. Once the big black ones (Canada Darner?) start cruising the yard, there is a noticeable drop in the mosquito population during the hours of dusk when both of them like it best. 

Dragonflies and their shadows, the Damselflies are found all over the planet. Worldwide, there are approximately 5500 to 6000 species of Dragonflies and Damselflies. The United States has a healthy percentage at around 450 species, with Maine coming in at or damn close to being the top location with 36% of those 450. New species are discovered on a regular basis up here, some of which are only found in or around a specific lake, pond or marsh.

Other than being generally smaller now, Dragonflies and Damselflies are relatively unchanged over the millions of years they have been around. They both are members of the Odonata Order that dates back 325 million years at least. That puts them here many millions of years before dinosaurs began stomping around. They can fly forward, backwards, and hover. Efficient hunters, they can turn on a dime to snatch the flying food around them.

Very cool insects.

While Dragonflies and Damselflies are both of the Odonata Order, there are real differences between them. Damselflies as a rule tend to be smaller than Dragonflies. The easiest way to tell the difference when seeing them is to catch them not flying and look at their wings. Damselflies fold their wings to their bodies when still, Dragonflies don't.

So there you have it; another crude attempt on my part to convey to the world that I still pay attention to the comings and goings of the creatures that surround my little patch of Heaven here in the pucker brush of southern Maine.

Ya'll have a wonderful day now...... Ya hear?

________________________________

Never heard of this young lady. Her voice and simple tune caught my attention. Please enjoy "Dragonfly" by Kasey Chambers.

Comments on Time

One of my early attempts at writing in my blog.  It appears I had no direction then either.  Good to know things have not changed too much.
          -----------------------

From Dec. 22, 2004 with a smidgen of editing.

_____________________

Time is odd. 

We have this arbitrary marker of our day to day lives. "It's time to get to work". "Sorry, but I don't have time for that". And one of my favorites, "Stop wasting your/mine/our time".

How is it possible to waste something that does not exist? Or does it exist just because we think it does? Would it not be more accurate to say, "Stop wasting your/mine/our existence?

 Once again I fall back on my fascination with Time. People talk ‘bout the "Beginning of Time" and the "End of Time". Hmm. If there was a beginning, then what was before, "Non Time"? And what comes after, "No More Time"? And if so, then how do we track how long Non-Time existed before Now Time. And how long will No More Time exist?

Looking at some of the contradictory logic "Time" is based on makes me sure that there is no logic.  Time is belief based. It was created to create convenient connections between actions and non actions. The logic evolved from wishes and expectations. Just the words Infinity and Forever indicate that Time never ends. Nor did it ever start. And people believe this. The words "Eventual" and "Certainty" point us to a certain ending and people believe that also. Hmm. Makes my head hurt.

I guess all there is Descartes. Existence or non-existence. Think and you are. Don’t think and you aren’t. Time, just being an extension of our wishes and fears. It only exists because we think it does. But then according Rene here, we only exist because we think we do. Time has nothing to do with it

I could be mistaken and I probably am. But as I don't want to take up any more time punishing my head with this, I think it is time to accept Time as fact if only to make the time I have left flow a little easier.

See ya next time .................................

_______________________________

Only one song will work for this post. It was shortly after "Time has come today", by the Chambers Brothers came out, that Snake and I ate too many hits of Purple Microdot Acid and retired to his basement where we played this album for hours and then switched to "Are you Experienced" by Jimi Hendrix. 

It was a long night in the early 1970s that ended with Snake crumpled in a corner mumbling to the wall people and I am fairly certain I did not blink for 5 hours as I watched words form and then go poof in the glow of the one light we left on.......... All the while turned up to wow, Hendrix or the Chambers Brothers kept us grounded.

Yeah, "Time has come today" is forever embedded in my soul. Enjoy.

What Freedom Is

Minnesota Governor Tim Waltz and his majority Democratic legislature have rescued the state from its previous notions of following the Right Wingin Honchos of the GOP and their drooling sycophants down into the stench of dark rabbit holes where no one with a brain should go. 

Once the Democrats took control last year, they have not wasted any time. They got busy right out of the gate.

Minnesota has recently:

• Passed a law with broad protection of abortion rights  in January 
• Governor Waltz signed an order back in March to protect transgender kids and their families .
• In May, Cannabis was legalized .
• The Democratic controlled government promises more of the same in the near future.

This is what happens when Democrats control the legislative process, at least it is what happens now since the Right has gone bat shit crazy with their fear and loathing efforts to regress back to a Past that never existed in the first place. The GOP declared that a Culture war is far and away more important than actually governing and improving people's lives. It is as if ruining the lives of the not so few will somehow improve the selfish lives of the Right in substantive ways.......... Winger Logic --- I will never get it. .............. 

"Who cares who gets screwed as long as I think I am doing better."

I am mentioning Governor Tim Waltz because of a brief interview he had with Willie Giest of MSNBC.

Willie asked him what was it like to be next door to North and South Dakota who were currently locked in with the current Right Wingin insanity agenda. Paraphrasing or maybe just reading between the lines, he insinuated they were both whacked out and that,  "They should mind their own damn business".

The Govenor's sentiment regarding "minding one's own business" is understandable ..........

BUT ......

The Republican Party and the fringe tinfoil brigades circling them are all about minding everyone's business, not just their own. The Wingers are no longer willing to leave people to their own devices in almost every facet of their lives. The Right wants to inject their twisted morality by passing laws that will force all of us into their fold by curtailing freedoms previously won over many years of struggle, trial and tribulations. 

The GOP claims they are the party of Freedom. The problem is they want to be the ones who define what Freedom is and who can enjoy it.

As good an idea it is to "mind one's own business", speaking for myself, I cannot do that as long as the White Wingin Sociopaths continue down their path and force me to march in their parade. 

Freedom is not the lock step mentality the Right think it is. Freedom for all is allowing as much leeway for folks to go their own way, live their own way and be spiritual in their own way. Life should never be a one way highway.

Later .......................................

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For today's post, I picked Green Day again. This tune, "Are We the Waiting/St. Jimmy" is off their "American Idiot" album, released in 2004. Not really tied in with the post. I just like it and the lyrics struck a chord with me. .... A sample:

Cigarettes and ramen and a little bag of dope

I am the son of a bitch and Edgar Allen Poe

Raised in the city in the halo of lights

Product of war and fear that we've been victimized