“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and it may be necessary from time to time to give a stupid or misinformed beholder a black eye.” ~ Jim Henson
“Reality continues to ruin my life.” ~ Bill Watterson (Calvin and Hobbs)
“If the world were merely seductive, that would be easy. If it were merely challenging, that would be no problem. But I arise in the morning torn between a desire to improve the world and a desire to enjoy the world. This makes it hard to plan the day.” ~ E. B. White
And that leaves me where?! I’ve been following Presidential politics and have done so this morning as well. Maybe not the best idea. I began, then got hooked, when I was unemployed. There is some kind of obscure irony in there someplace. The dawn is coming up nicely, reliably. Some songbird has been singing just up the hill, but he has now gone silent. The turkey, I know, is out atop the coop waiting for me to get my assets out there. The chickens are starting to makes noise. The traffic sounds are ratcheting up, and I am now without coffee. This morning’s coffee was quite good, fresh Bustello; Cuban coffee. Yum. I will be going out to do the retail thing in a couple of hours. There was a time when I was sick of being a retail worker. But now I am seeing it differently, seeing that there is, or can be, love exchanged through commerce. Laughter, good will. I work in a hardware store. There’s a lot needs fixin’ in this scary crazy world. I’m on the front lines, but I’ve known that for years. I learned that through philosophically stepping back during my years as a cashier at the natural foods supermarket. I’ve got Flower Child perspective tools in my toolbox and I ain’t afraid to use them, for whatever good that may do. Yet here I sit, puffy eyes, sleep-tousled hair, sixty years of wear on my flesh and bones vehicle. Needs a tuneup for sure. I know well the pain that aging so generously delivers, both physically and mentally, and I have yet to learn how to go all proactive and stuff with the gently alarming things that changes in the memory app are bringing. You can’t really download a new app. Not for memory, because human memory is not really a brain thing, not when you think about it. Moving forward – I have been finding my eyes get all misty with tears lately. I’ve attributed this to allergies and my dysfunctional tear ducts, but I don’t give myself enough credit with such attributions. There are both tears for the precarious plight of mankind and tears of joy to consider. Why not those? Huh?! Why not?! Tears of frustration. Tears over the truly profound ignorance and non-aligned meanness of Donald Trump. Now, at this point I’ve a desire to continue laying out some more words, text, whatever. And meaning. The Big Dogs, the 1%, are poaching meaning and time, taking from us and not wanting to let it go once taken. I think of the “Time Bankers” in Michael Ende’s intriguing and beautiful novel Momo (click here). He said that when we save time it ends up in somebody else’s hands, and, as I said, they won’t let go. We save it but we never get to use that which we have saved. There are thieves of time afoot in the world. What’s up with that, right? I’d best go on my way, friends. Feed and medicate the cat. Cleanse and groom and dress myself. And go out into the world until the 5 o’clock rush ensues. There’s a pint of ale waiting for me then, after my drive home. See y’all tomorrow.
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously!