into the dark

 

It Was A Dark And Stormy Night

It was a dark and stormy night as Bob stood in the doorway.  His gaze roamed the darkness of Main Street, Pausing at the lights on the corner. The only other lights were in the all night diner across the street.  Bob’s eyes drifting across the dark landscape came to a stop on the sidewalk in front of him. The rain drops from the awning overhead, spattered on to walk in front. 

 

Joining the other drops of rain, a small course of water was formed as it scurried across the walk to join the stream in the gutter.    Ever onward down the hill the water flowed, splashing into the storm sewer at the far corner.  Bob let his mind wander on this stormy night with the water drops traveling down the hill.  Bob’s mind could hear the splashing of the water tumbling along in the storm sewer.  The roar of the storm water, raced through Bob’s thoughts.    In the images of the mind, Bob watched the water course its way to the river below the bluff.

 

Slowly Bob rolled out of his water journey and returned to main street to watch it rain.   His gaze returned to the diner across the way.

 

As his gaze traveled along the front window Bob could only spy three people.  The waitress sat at the end of the counter.  In front of her were buckets of silverware, a stack of napkins and a tub to put the rolled utensils into.  She sat there, mindlessly rolling the napkins and placing the finished ware into the tub. 

 

At the other end of the counter sat Phil, hunched over, telling a story to his cup of coffee. Cookie could be seen in the back, scrubbing down his grill.  

Into the Dark

 

It was a Dark and Stormy night

Joe tilted his head to the side as he rounded the corner onto Main Street.  Here on the main drag downtown, Joe would have some protection from the swirling rain.  It a dark and stormy night as Joe marked his steps down the sidewalk.  

Across the street, the marquee from the movie house was dark.   In the light of the lobby, Joe could see the attendant cleaning up.  Soon the movie would be over and the movie goers would head out the front door. 

Leaning into the wind, Joe continued his journey down the walk.  At the corner he paused, glancing off to the left, he could see the line of streetlights marching off the end of town.  The headlights to his right caught his attention and he stood on the corner.  The lone car turned and headed for the lights of the gas station couple of blocks down the street. 

Crossing the street, Joe’s attention shifted to the diner across the way.  The lights of the diner, glared out onto the walk, producing a daylight look.    On down the street Joe walked, turning into a doorway.  Here Joe was out of the elements.  Glancing across the street at the diner, Joe fished a cigarette out of his shirt pocket.  A flame flashed in front of Joe’s face, revealing a cigarette dangling from his lips.  The flame disappeared, revealing a glow in the front of Joe’s face.  Smoke swirled out of the doorway to be blasted away by the stormy wind.  Settled into the doorway, Joe returned his gaze to the diner across the way. 

 

PHONE CALLS

Telephone

It is amazing to sit back and look at the world of electronics and electricity has taken society.  If ya wanted to talk with someone years ago, hook the horse up and ride over and talk with the neighbor.  Then came the talking machine, ring, ring…. Hi .. is this Alexander?  With some effort and the aid of singing wires, you could talk to your neighbor in the next town.  The isolation of life was coming to an end and soon the singing wires would reach round the world. 

During WWII, communications was critical among the troops and their commanders.  Phone lines were difficult to lay, so radio communications was polished up and information was radioed back to headquarters’ via various relays.  At the end of the war, lots of this new technology became available to the public. 

One could pick up the phone and dial directly without having to call Maggie the operator first to connect ya to Mildred.  With transcontinental cables one could make phone calls from coast to coast.  The singing wires of the telegraph no longer had a monopoly on communications.  The phone allowed people to make phone calls in the comfort of their homes.  News from around the world was almost instantaneous...   

Technology was transforming how society interacted.  The war had created massive machines of destruction but it had also brought machines to change how people lived.  Before the war, a telephone was a luxury item.  After the war, mass production and the stringing of more lines, the phone became available to all at an affordable price. 

This was also the beginning of the computer age.  Look where that has taken us.  Our phone is now personal, wireless, television, video calls and world wide web is available. 

Until the phone came along, letters the primary method of correspondence and dispatches.  Even with the telegraph, one had to write out the message and because of the rates, words were few and very precise.  The pen is still around but writing has lost is glamour.  The art of letter writing is becoming a dim memory.  One can pull out their phone, send a text, e-mail, video call of just a phone call.  Even conversation is less and less, with texting. 

There were dramatic changes after the war but they have not slowed down. 

ReLiving The Past

 

One of my pleasures is taking the time on occasion to visit the museums in the small towns.  Most are closed through the winter.  So when I do find open for a snow day I take advantage of it.

I like to look at things and imagine what it would have been like in years past.  What would it be like to use that machine, cook with those pots n kettles or ride in that buggy.

This mail cart caught my attention.  Look at how it down between the wheels and look at the suspension and springs.  I could see the letter wagon trotting down the rod, the driver letting the horse amble while reading the latest in pulp fiction. 

At the mailbox the horse pauses, the letters are removed from the box and new letters are placed inside.  A clicking of the tongue and the horse begins trotting down the road again. 

Down the road at the next house some children are out front playing when they see the horse and its cart.  Out to the road they  run to say hi at the mailman.  Out of the back a catalogue is retrieved, with joy the children jump up and down.  The wish book has arrived.  Inside are the latest toys, clothes and other dreamy things to look at.

The children run to the house, a clicking of the tongue and down the road to the next mailbox they trot. 

What a difference in the pace of time and choices of what is fun.   How many today know the name of their mailman, say hi to them, pass the time of day?

I don’t get home delivery, I have to go into the Post Office and open my mailbox.  Sometimes Linda or Kay are in the lobby and a quick hi or pleasantries are exchanged.

A Lions Day

 

The month left like a lion and the beginning day of the next continued the lions journey.  It was snowing on the last day of January and the snow fell on into February.  It was a nice snow, gentle, light breeze and not real cold.  Late in the day the wind picked up some making the air like little ice knives picking at one.

Snow is appreciated for it is like a reservoir in the mountains and sores in drifts slowly melting into late summer.  Feeding the streams, supplying the reservoirs with drinking water. 

This is the water in the rivers and streams.  The water that keeps the grass green.  Unlike the midwest, we do not get lots of rain in the summer.  The mountain snowpack is our water storage.  The springs are supplied with the water in the far mountains and surfaces after long journey underground. 

The trees are coated, making a winter wonderland.  The outside is cleansed with the freshness of the snow.  Diamonds sparkle in the sunlight.  The pixie dust glows in the hidden sunlight.  The mighty powers of the sun are blocked by the thick clouds. 

Doing a winter snow dance, leaving footprints in the fresh snow, camera joyfully capturing pixels. 

Year Begins

 

The winter solstice has passed, the materialistic frenzy of Christmas is gone and the drunken orgy of the New Year is past.  Presents, fireworks and decorations, retuned to boxes, stored in an out of the way corner closet.  Rituals of the end of the year will soon fade into dim memory.  The new baby of the year will age.  New headstones will grace the grave yard.  Time marches at its pace. 

Into the future life moves, ever relentless in its forward pace.

November begins the decline into darkness, sun settles southward, darkness creeps into the day.  A time of year when depressions roams the land, looking for a place to settle.  Festivals roll out creating a festive mood, one of giving thanks.  Decorations are placed and brighten the spirit.   Into December depression travels looking for a home.  Colorful lights are set on shelves and windows, Old Man Gloom is held at bay with the colorful lights.  The glee of the upcoming season is shouted over the land.  The is hope in the air as depression stands near by looking for an opening. 

A creeping crud that battles with the senses.  A façade put forth to cope with the ugly side of the season.  Then it is over.  Looking back, what happened?  Where has the mood gone?

 

   

With the beginning of January, the sun begins its journey back north.  The light returns, the warmth embraces once again.  Penetrating the bitterness of the icy storms.   A joy of hope and optimism  grow.  Old man glows in the fireplace.  A new season sits on the corner awaiting our arrival. 

Today the snow hustles across the horizon, catching on the grasses and weeds.   Making a gossamer white blanket.  Bitterness rides the wind, frosting the windows, a fairy dances over the land.   

A day of quiet introspection, remember the past, look to the future and live the day.  Pages of years, stand in volumes, pages ever passing.  Snowflakes dance past the window, gracefully landing on the ever growing blanket. 

 

Happy New Year

 

To all I wish a prosperous, blessed and happy new year.  May the God of Peace be your companion in the upcoming weeks.

The past year has been one of turmoil yet it has been pretty placid.  Tensions in the fabric have increased yet life moves along.

I don’t do resolutions but I do, do a few goals.  Things I want to accomplish in the future.  I don’t make so many or set them so high they are beyond reach.  I have a few goals I want on a daily basis.  Through the years they pretty much been there accomplished in my daily life.  There is always my daily walk with God and giving thanks for Christ. Then to love my fellow man, even the enemy. 

I wrote a couple of small books this past year and they were mildly successful on a local level.  I am in the process of writing another one and hope to have it ready by the end of the month.  I do self publishing, so I get to do all the layout and design work plus proofing.  It’s a time consuming process but the after moments are worth it.  It could be an ego trip, when I get compliments. 

I will continue to to some photography and hopefully that will improve some as it has each year.  Someday I may collect a bunch of photos and make a type of coffee table book.  That is a bit of a dream. 

The new year rolls out and I am but a passenger on a trip.  I can voice my opinion and see what happens yet the trip moves forth.  There are many things that happen I have no control over, so I voice my displeasure.

One of the reasons I don’t like resolutions for there are so many outside influences and they set one up for failure.  Which quite often leads to depression.

Into the new year I venture forth, no great expectations.

Ya’ll have a great year.

Oh ….. For Frustrations

 

Projects become time consumers when the best of laid plans fail.  Great aspirations rode on the wings of hope.  The elements were laid out, a nice outline was made.  Together the pieces would make a nice tableau.  Some of the bits were stored over there, and some in here and the rest were scattered, in easy reach.

The moment arrived, the parts were to be gathered up and assembled.  Into the puter they were placed.  Delicate care was given to each.  Embellishments were added.  No parts left dangling.  Some time later the project was completed. 

The next phase begins.  The files are to be uploaded.  Wind the puter up, put the file name in the little box, sit back, let the bits and pieces be crunched into a whole.

Later the sum of the parts is completed.  The crunching is done, the verdict is in.  The puter at the other end says I have problems.  I sort through, see them and say, Okay, they are fixable. 

I go back through, gathering up new parts to replace the non acceptable pieces.  Time paces, the new bits are ready.  I delete and I replace, a whole new assembly is created.  To the upload page I go.  Into the window the file name is entered and the crunching process begins again.

Sometime later the crunching is finished.  Oh happy day, it is completed.  Then I see them, the little red dots.  I have issues it say.  I examine the issues, they are not major, I can fix them, just very time consuming.  A bit of steam ushers forth from the nostrils, it is becoming frustrating.

Again I go through patch and repair.  Go back and upload again and await the results.  Oops, it spits little red dots back at me.  harumph, more steam is rolling out of the nostrils, a bit of flame is rolling overhead.  I have to go through the process again, frustrations are building but I fix and redo things.

This learning curve is becoming a monster, I need to get a handle on things.  There in the little box is red letters, save and go on.  I click and everything is okay, all is great.  But I am not happy.  The changes have made other problems that need to be straightened out.  I go back redo things, check the files, make some more changes.  I am satisfied.  All the bits and pieces are where they should be.  I go to the upload page and put the file in.  The puiter sits there, crunching pieces and bits, sending them through cyber space. 

I check back, an error message is in the window, task was not completed.  I check things, see nothing wrong.  I try again, bleep the window say.  Whoops the ceiling is scorched from the flames issuing forth from the cranial structure.  I go back through and send a nasty note to the people at the other end, nothing.

I redo things again, put a little twist on and reload.  Voila, it is uploaded but with numerous red dots.  I click the ignore button and finish the project.  Humbug, a project that should of taken no more then two days, got stretched out over 8 days.  I did learn how to get mad at the other end and how to fix things. 

There are other projects on the drawing board, hopefully the will not be as fraught with these problems.

Such is the life of mice and me.

Bounding Waves of Green

 

 

With the peak of summer approaching a few fields of wheat are nearing harvest.  The stalks of wheat toss to and fro.  Following the whims of the breeze.

 

Edible Flowers

 

While back I posted a photo of a yucca blossom.  I got the comment that it appeared very delicate.  I thought wow, what a contrast for the spikey dangerous plant.  The spikes of the yucca are tougher on the skin then the thorns of a rose bush.  Yet the yucca was revered by the plains Indian.

 

The yucca held lots of nutriments and utilities for the Indians.  The root was a source of vitamins for them but to much and it was a laxative.  The yuccas cussing name was soap weed and does make a decent cleaning compound.   The spikes are tough enough to be woven into sandals and baskets.  It could also be flayed and used like a tooth brush, using the ground root as tooth powder.

For many though, the yucca was an obnoxious plant.  Like many plants, if it is growing in the wrong place it is a weed.

Because of the root nutriments, buffalo would root the yuccas up and eat the roots.  Getting past the spikes is a challenge.  Calves have been known to up root yuccas to get at the roots.

Oh those spikes are nasty.  Have been spiked by them.  Leaves a nasty, blackish, purple gash in the flesh and does the blood flow.  Person needs good protective gear when working with them.  Have heard of some people planting them in the wells of their basement windows to keep intruders out. 

 

The Indians had another use for the yuccas.  They could make a pretty good hooch from the root.  Grind up some root, put it in a buffalo bladder, add water and let it ferment.  The Indian would take their buffalo bladder and bury it and a month or so later, they would have a mescal.  It was party time on the plains. 

Oh, the yucca is also the state flower of New Mexico.

A Day In Life

 

Sunday morning was magnificent.  It was one of those mornings in a blue moon.  Temp was in the low 40’s, the house was comfortable and life was still.  Breeze was somewhere, clatter was distant, sky was azure blue speckled with lacy wisps few and far.  Life could of not been any better at that moment.

Dogs fed, coffee made, steaming mug in hand I sit down.  Looking out the window was clarity to the ridges beyond.  Calmness traveled throughout, lightly broken by the occasional passing truck on the highway.  It was Sunday morning, I tarried a bit longer.  Sipping on the coffee, gazing into the great outdoors.  Listening to the chirp of birds passing by.

My soul rested, pores absorbing the moment.  There was not the city buzz droning in the ears.  This is why I left the hectic harried cacophony of the metropolis. 

Country life carries a pace that that is easy to follow.  There are no great big golf course lawn, well groomed grounds.  Nature passes by the steps, leaving its mark on the walkway.  Deer were bedded down next door last night, tracks of the coyotes dot the gravel.

Sunday morning was a day that will be cherished and sought after for they are few and far between.  God blessed me that morning with His peace. 

Buildings of Ghosts

 

For years, many years, I have been journeying to various events.  I used to to travel in a hurry with a single mined focus, get there and back.  Today when I make these trips, I put some time in the schedule to meander and look at things as I go and pause when I see things of interest.  Many a town I would buzz by on the all american raceway, the interstate.  Today I venture on the back roads and have a look at times past.

Here there are bits and pieces of dreams.  Most have become neglected and are falling to decay.  When the interstate highway system lots of the little towns were by passed.  The highway people also rerouted many roadways to bypass towns.  In the hurry to get to there, many things have been lost.

Seldom does travel go at a leisurely pace any more.  It is hurry up and get there.  The frantic pace of life is sometimes scary.  I believe it is called instant gratification. 

Now day I seek out some of these small towns and pause for a bit.  Take a few pictures, wander some of the streets and take in the ambiance of small town ame4rica.

Time brings changes, it is inevitable.  People change, move or pass on.  Buildings crumble after abandonment or find other uses.  Sometimes they just were not built all that well.  I take their picture for someday they may fade into the times of forgotten days.

Then there is the little stream that meanders through the sand hills of the high prairie.  It gurgles and tumbles across the semi arid plains making a small oasis.

Cars whiz by on the highway, pausing not, going from there to there.  Life has a pace that does not always mesh with nature.  I was once told, pause and smell the roses.  Well not many roses grow around here, to cold and dry.  There are other things to pause and ponder.  A hundred plus years ago, these little towns were settled by pioneers, many emigrants from Europe.  Here they could live the dream, a piece of land they could call their won. 

Homes were built and shops erected.  Government policies changed, dreams crashed and were abandoned. 

What had been a thriving going village, now sits neglected and decaying.  Dreams float over the grasses.  Ghosts sit on the front entry.

Changing Times and Blizzards

 

In the beginning, it was overcast and foggy, the wind rustled through the barren limbs, flakes of snow smattered across the lines.  It was a somber time, a time to meditate and watch life for a bit, reflect on the past times.  Passage of moments edging onwards.  Clouds began to boil, wind was gaining volume and the flakes more numerous.

High noon, the skies were dark and splattered with white.  The ground was embracing a blanket.  Intensity of the wind gained.  Howling across the land, flakes dancing sideways.  White blanket fluttering off in to drifts.  Brown earth ushering forth, covered by ribbons of white, climbing ever higher. 

Roadways obscured by clouds of white boiling over them.  Icy sheen covered in slick white cloth.  Spinning flakes, swirling over windshields obscuring sight.  Highway shoulder a parking spot.  Time passing as the land changed to a blinding white.  Seeing no further ahead then the length of arm.

Into the night the screech of the wind drove the white flakes.  Slashing into the grasses, attaching to the trees.  Highway a white sledding trail, no huskies mushing.  Cars along the roadway, waiting for snow to stop, wind to cease.  High overhead the stars shine through, snow has stopped.  Wind shrieks again, blasting snow into objects in its path.

Sun rises on a clear day covered by the drifting snow.  Blinding for a bit, giving way to clear spots.  Wind does not abate, racing over the land.  Life is sputtering, animals in their burrows and dens.  Birds buffeted overhead, flying erratic into the wind.  Travelers braving the howling snow across the roadway.   Mounds of white, monuments to the call of nature.  And the clock doth tick on with a different beat.

Now that the saving of time is back. Leave it alone.

The Towns of Ghosts

 

The Great Depression left lots of empty shells on the prairie.  Towns boomed around the westward migration and the immigration wave of the late 1800’s into the 1920’s.  During the Roaring 20’s people were living high and fast.  It was prohibition and speakeasies, the flapper girls and gangsters.  Money was plentiful and easy to come by.  Self indulgence was the mantra of the day. 

Then came the crash of 1929, life was to change like no one could of froe seen.  People were going hungry, no jobs.  Dreams that had been built were being shuttered and left, abandoned.  Some small communities disappeared and are but a reminder on old time maps.  A few hung in through the 30’s only to decline with the coming modern age of the automobile.

Along some highways are reminders of these past days.  Small communities hang on but the shells of other days sit empty.  No longer is main street a bustling burg.  People seldom stroll down the sidewalks to go shopping.  Here one can walk the median stipe of main and not meet a car.

With time permitting, I like to drive off the beaten path and drive the streets of these little towns.  It offers a glimpse back into the past that has been glossed over by many or ignored.

This neat old building had been a grocery store at one time.  There were not supermarkets back then.  From the side one can see the living quarters on the second floor where the store owner lived.  Wasn’t much long distance commuting back then.  With the two brick chimneys, it indicates that there was stove of some type, wood or coal probably.  The building was probably built around 1900’s.  There was no electricity back then or natural gas on the prairie.

On the sides can be seen the additions as the shop was expanded.  Maybe another business was opened next door.  It is fascinating to speculate on what when on in this little town 100 years ago.

On the roof one can see the modern conveniences added over time,  The utility lines for electricity, a television antenna and maybe central heating.

Today it sits vacant, falling to the ravishes of time.  With the curtain and shades on the window it appears someone may of bought it and used it for a residence.  I have seen some people move out from the big city and buy places like this dirt cheap and fix them up.  It would make a nice large spacious home, great studio.  Not much racket and noise in these small towns. 

In silence the grand store sits awaiting its fate.

Hedonistic

 

Commercials are a telling part of society.  They are directed a segments of people.  Oh, the purpose is to get people to buy things, support something or create an awareness, sometimes just support of a media.  The messages reflect a part of the group we live in.  So when I puzzled by advertising I have to ponder, what are they trying to say. 

Lately there have been a bunch of computer type commercials that just did not register with me.  First thing that came to mind was the generation gap.  Yup, I’m an old fuddy duddy….. hehe.  One of the common threads in them was the goal of deriving pleasure if one used their product.  Then I seen that in some other messages.  Indulgent pleasure was the message.  No work was implied, just use the stuff and be happy.  Self indulgent pleasure was such a common theme in so many other commercials.

It made me stop and wonder, what kind of new generation is issuing forth.  So many youngsters I interact with any more, ages mid 20’s to young teenagers.  Seem to be bent on pleasure only and the adults are there to provide this for them.  Its like the concept of putting something out to gain this is foreign to them.  I have seen some children treat their parents like servants.

Then I see commercials pandering to the self indulgent.  Man is a pleasure seeking being but there has to be some work in there someplace to create these machines.  It sometimes comes across that people don’t grasp that somebody has to create these machines and it takes some kind of work to acquire the money to purchase them.

The entrepreneur that works and markets to these people will create a type of slavery.  These companies will have a great control over others.  They probably will become quite wealthy also.

Leisure time for some has become more important then work time but they expect to be compensated the same as those who work.  There have been leisure seeking people for eons, but most of them also were hard workers.

So I wonder where these people will find the money to sate their hedonism?

Ah, the pleasures of my life, sit and count snow flakes.

 

Your indulgence is…………. ?

The Time Change

 

The days grow longer, the sun rises earlier and settles into the horizon later.  The swirling continues on, yet man still tries to control things.  There is Standard Time, then there is Saving time.  The second one makes me wonder, How is time being saved?  When comes for the clock change, I would to see the meddling politicians get out of the way and no more time changes.

I enjoy the evening, the end of day.  Sit there, watch the traffic circle over the rise and descend into the little hollow where the town is.  In the winter the sun is going for the evening meal and but the lights of the vehicles line up curling down the ridge.  Makes for a nice show but it is in the dark.  This time of year the light tarries for a bit and the journey homeward bound is easier.  It is so nice to have a bit of light in the eve to unwind the mind, even for but a few minutes.

Well the storm came through, some wind, cold air and a bit of flakey stuff.  It was enough that a few drivers had forgotten how to drive and made a few dings in sheet metal.  For that reason many do not like snow.  For me it one of those things that gave his creation and I can not curse it.  For it is the snow that brings all the glory of summer.

Our moisture supply is almost none existent.  So more snow would be nice.  One that could be measured in many inches, using a yard stick. 

The weeds under the snow make nice patterns or wonderment.

Then there is the shadow of the birdfeeder.  Grasses stand up through the thin mantel of white.

The howling coyote floats out over the silence after the storm.  Wavering but a bit when the wind returns to rearrange the flakes.

Snow, one of those I do not have to deal with much any more.  I stay out of the way.  I believe only once have I slid off the road or did donuts.  Have watched many in a big hurry, keep the tow trucks busy.  There are also the four wheel frollies of spinning off the road, across the ditch, up the other side, back into the ditch and back onto the highway. 

Snow is something I have come to love.  Sure there is misery, then weather has its moments in all seasons.  When I lived in Denver, one could hear a silent cheer when the first snow for the mountains was reported.  Skiers were getting the board out and ready for the season.  Drive to mountains in the winter a few times.  One learns how to drive on the slick roads and to have the vehicle prepared.  Break down or have problems in the mountains is expensive. 

Yes there are nice things about the snow, snowmen, snow angels, tracks and great pictures.

Now to get that clock fixed so it doesn’t keep falling back.

Things WE Approve Of

 

Read the other day that the president's approval rating was over 60%.  That’s higher then his reelection margin was.  Couple of things strike me, what are we approving and is it a real poll.

To approve what the president is doing indicates what the society wants from the government. 

As a society we say that it is okay to have high unemployment, low job creation and an expanding poor class of citizenry.  There are now over 50 million people on food stamps, poverty, and I don’t know how many of welfare.  As a country, this is what the majority of citizens that live in it want, a growing lower class of citizens, a shrinking middle class.

The citizens also approve of the violation of the law.  Recently the courts stated that Obama had violated the Constitution.  He has been accused of that numerous times.  Look at illegal immigration, the buzz topic now.

Then there is the use of executive order, getting the bureaucracy to make regulations that impose a burden on business.  One of the biggest complaints of business is the excess rules and regulations. 

Then there is the healthcare.   So many want from the government yet who will pay.  The fat cats, the super rich will be taxed at a higher rate.  60% of the citizens approve of higher taxes. 

They also approve of belittling the republican party.  It is okay to demonize others but don’t say anything about me.  It is amazing what people approve of.

So really what does one approve of.

Is it really 60% of the people that approve of Obama’s job.  Do people really like to see others out of work.  Do they like to see people falling into poverty.  Do they like to pay higher taxes so a few can get richer.

Does the media like to twist data around so that people are  glorified at the expense of others while demonizing others.  Why has the media become so hateful.

To me it is embarrassing to see so many people out of work and subsisting on the government dole.  The richest country in the world can not help its citizens find work, help create jobs.

This is the third recession I’ve lived through.  It is also the longest.  Even under Jimmy Carter the turn down only lasted a couple of years.  And then when the next president tried a stimulus it did not work.  Then the government has not been very successful in moving the economy.  Something politicians can't get a handle on.

So What is it we really are approving, poverty and a down trodden society….. is that the legacy you want.

The Illusion of Hollywood

 

One of the neat things about the Internet is how it has shrunk the world and opened windows all over.  Some of these windows take me into the past.  Now on the web are collections of old TV shows and movies.

Watching these old flickers shows the many changes that there are that really haven’t changed.  The most noticeable changes are in styles and technology.  People haven’t changed that much.  There were obnoxious people back then as well as great people.

There were bad story lines back then and thay are still bad.  Some of the more enduring stories are the ones that mimic some of the old classic stories, IE Shakespeare.  Watched “Taming of the Shrew,” other night, except it wasn’t titled that.  It was a John Wayne western.

Then there is the quest story, which is what made the first “Star Trek,” shows so great.  Oh wow, talk about a change in technology.

Picture of a cowboy from a 100 years ago.  Look at all the changes that remain the same.  Again it is style, looks or appearance.

Then there is the theme of the good guys, us, vs. the bad guys, them. A theme that can be followed all the way back to classic literature of the ancient world.

One of the current TV shows I watch is “Blue Bloods.”  It has an unusual portrayal of family life.  And, yes there is the good guys and bad ones.  But look at the family portrayed. 

Hollywood wants this dysfunctional family to be portrayed as the noble family, the american pie collection.  They have family dinners but look at the age disparity, lack of marriages or divorces and the living arrangements.  Then from that look at the relationships portrayed outside of the family, that’s where it gets scary.  Yet the program is decent drama and has a good following. 

The troubling part is how relationships are portrayed by Hollywood.  The dysfunctional families are portrayed as being normal and people accept the abnormal as being the way to live.

So what does one anchor their life on, what could be considered as acceptable behavior?

Looking back over the centuries at the variety of stories, some of the greatest stories, are ones from conflict.  The torment the protagonists deal with as they live out their lives.  Where is peace found, how does one sail on an even keel, why does the roller coaster life appeal to so many?

Arrogance

 

The amazing statement people make.  I am to trust them because they said it.  Then when I question the substance of their statement, they get all upset.  It is, How dare you question me.

When I was growing up, one of the things instilled in me was to question things, it was a learning process.  If I don’t understand things, ask questions or if it is not clear ask questions.  So, questions I did ask.  Then as I grew older, I learned a few things.  I took classes in philosophy, which was the very questioning of the order of life.  It was, no, that is not how it is, it is this way, why was the response.  So a person would have to present their thesis with evidence to support their statement.

Today, people put their hypothesis forth with none or very little supporting evidence and expect people to believe it, just because they said it.

I follow some people on facebook that are like that.  They say don’t do this or that, or not buy this.  They don’t say why or anything, it is an empty statement.  Then question them, better get the storm gear on and be ready for a tantrum.

So many people want to be an authority that they will follow along with others, even when it is a half truth.  Look at all of the different stories and blogs out there.  How many support their statements.  Even the weatherman is not always there supporting their forecast.

Arrogance is a psychological disorder, it can be ;looked up.  One of the key parts of arrogance is that arrogant are never wrong.  That is why they blow up when questioned.  They also tend to be control freaks.  Watch people around, especially in crowds and listen to so,e of the statements that are made.  The authoritiarian voice they speak in, they edge of anger or the bully tone.  Then look in the mirror, how close am I to being that way. 

A bit of education can mess one up and if that education comes from a big name school it even messes things up more.  Then there are those that think they have an education…. look out.

Listen to the politicians talk.  Watch their manipulation of facts and how they distort them to fit their agenda.  But do not dare to question them.

The Black Lagoon

Hilary Clinton’s injuries and medical problems were questioned by some.  Boy did some people get hateful over the questioning of her problems.  It was how dare you question what happened to her.  It was, like the truth was irrelevant.

To wonder why one would question her actions, one has to look at her past history of responses to other damming situations she has been in.  Actions speak louder then words.  Just one speaks does not make one and authority or correct.  Even if they say they are correct……. or….. trust me.

Then I ask….”Why can't I question you, you work for me, you are on the taxpayers salary rolls?”

Arrogant people get so mad, especially when they are not in control.

Snow Day

 

Today is the day, the blizzard is here.  The day many farmers and ranchers have been hoping for.  Snow makes for hazards but for the land it is nourishment.   It has been so dry that the water is dusty. 

So take a few and punch out a few keys on the keyboard and write something about something.

I have been writing some stories for the local tourism people to post on their website about the ghost towns in the area.  In the process I have found a variety of old and interesting things.   Mostly old machinery and buildings.  Other day I was visiting with a rancher whose grandfather had operated a post office out of his ranch house in the early 1900’s. 

Hanging on their wall was a relic from Mabel’s time of the barb wire network.  Two short rings was Esther's, a long ring n a short was Mildred’s, two shorts and one long ring was Evelyn’s and any one else that wanted to listen in.  Party line central it was.  News of the neighborhood was broadcast far and wide over the barb wire.

Wonder if the kids today could operate something so primitive.  They would probably ask how to boot it up.

During my journeys into the out back I have some interesting companions, watchers.  Hunting season is still on so they are a bit skittish. 

Have been lucky to find a few ghosts here and there.  The knock at the door, opening and closing, footsteps over the floor.  Check on the door and it locked, no one is in the house.  Then there is frank, he hangs in the side room.  It is amazing some of the stories that people have about their unseen room mates.

Look closely, there is a shadow in the front window and there have been reports of lights in there at night.

Always did enjoy the stories of Caspar. 

Well the ground has turned white where the snow can collect.  The wind is blowing the rest down Texas way.