The Spare Change in Hope


A powerful snow storm beginning to let loose in Taos.

“There’s nowhere you can be that isn’t where you’re meant to be…”  ~  John Lennon

“Destiny is a name often given in retrospect to choices that had dramatic consequences.”  ~  J. K. Rowling

“Everything is determined, the beginning as well as the end, by forces over which we have no control. It is determined for the insect, as well as for the star. Human beings, vegetables, or cosmic dust, we all dance to a mysterious tune, intoned in the distance by an invisible piper.”  ~  Albert Einstein

There seems to be an overall presence of a sense of travel, of movement, this morning. Throughout the hours I have been awake it is traffic noise from the highways that predominates. No coyotes, no dogs, no barking or howling at all. Yes, the humidity is high, which facilitates the movement of sound. It just keeps coming. The traffic is continuous and explicitly present. So mote it be. Somehow my heart finds peace in the racket. Yet the racket also yanks memories forth from wherever it is that memories hide; if there is indeed a “wherever” involved at all. I view memory as a holographic phenomenon, a concept I first came to consider through the work of Karl Pribram. It basically means that the memory is everywhere if anywhere at all. Puzzling, right? Yeh, right. One memory is of the train yard viewed at 3 AM from the window on the top floor of a triple-decker on Plum Street in the Italian neighborhood in Worcester, Massachusetts. The triple-decker was right next door to another triple-decker, which was owned by the Moonies, who only came to bother me once in all the time I lived there. I saw to that. I am prone to shut down a missionary’s pitch in short order, leaving them scratching their head. That’s just me. Another memory comes from a train trip, headed north, at a stop near DC. Standing at a urinal, doing that thing, and a young man in the mini-stall next to me explaining how he had been deployed to the Falkland Islands. A soldier. A war was going on. US troops were being sent to observe the hostilities. There is something surreal about that scene, and it shall always be that way for me. Plenty of other travel memories come here as well. A man tossing me a ‘spare change’ quarter as I sat in the deck in front of a convenience store in Hope, Arkansas. I asked him what it was for. I’d caught the coin on the fly. He said I looked like I needed it. I tossed it back to him, explaining that I did not need it. I’d bicycled about 1300 miles at that point, to get to that point, starting in Miami. I thanked him for is consideration and generosity. Did ya know that President Bill Clinton was born in Hope, Arkansas? He was. It really has nothing to do with my story, but it does add some nice color to the tale. Which brings me back to the chair, this desk, this iMac. The cat is fed and medicated. The chickens are out of the coop and foraging in the yard. I’ve got a day ahead of me and I don’t know what to do with it. I’ve got a deep feeling of destiny this morning. Yeh, yeh, yeh, ya makes yer own reality and all that stuff. Sometimes it is nice to sit back and just let the whispering winds of change blow as they will. But that’s just me. I’ve no use for platitudes today. I create my own reality you say? How nice of you to think of me like that. I’ll send you a post card in the future, k? From Hope.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.



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