a little something for everyone

I went to the bank today. The branch... you know where there are actual tellers and such.
I was cashing in rolls of quarters and proceeds from our tag sale, car wash and bake sale - to get a deposit check together for the new house we are going to own tomorrow.

It took the teller a few moments to gather the paper work and count all those quarters - so I was idly watching the TV screen over her head. Normally I eschew screens in places of business. I find them disturbing and bothersome.
But something struck me about this show.
It was CNBC and they were discussing some top trader type fellow who was leaving his company and going to another. Apparently, this was big news and causing much stir.

But what struck me was the set, the commentators, the backdrop - even the stuff running at the bottom. This literally could have been on ESPN, with the topic about any of the big time players moving to another team. Even their body language and conversation patterns were just the same as I had seen Ferris watch a million times on his sports channels.

I began to picture a room of young analysts in front a huge TV, swilling beer and snacking on chips and big meat sandwiches**. They would argue back and forth about the move... was it the right move, was the new company smart in paying so much at sign on, how would the old company recover.

Hey... whatever you're into.
It's just nice to know those boys have a show to watch too.


** ok, possibly they would be swilling martinis and munching on fancy crackers slathered in caviar. but I like my imagery better.

happy meal

I heard that in certain places in California - where the living is healthy, that a certain fast food chain has been asked by some watchdog groups to remove the toys from happy meals*.

The premise I gather is not to reward a child for eating over 600 calories in one sitting.

OVER 600 calories.
In one meal.
For a tiny person.

And they're gonna remove the toy?

Really.


* Fun weese fact: I actually served up the very first happy meals back in 1979 as a high school kid working at McD's. We were told it was a promotional offering and would be discontinued that fall. We hated them because we had to fold the boxes into shape. The toys were way better back then.

what time is it?

Do you wear a watch?
I do somewhat regularly.

Have you ever worn your watch on the 'other' wrist?

It's so... unnatural.

Vitamin D

I would be the first to tell you that I love a rainy day.
I have no problems with gray gloominess. I have mentioned on several occasions that I prefer to work in a warm, dark environment.

Even with the ridiculous amount of rain we are getting here in the North East I was trodding along just fine. Oh sure... there was the lawn anxiety. But I can have that in the best of weather.

Until this morning. When the sun came up. My sun-lovin wife and I had our coffee on the patio and soaked up the D. It was delicious.
Just now, I simply took the trash to the street -- I felt lifted and refreshed. I could feel my Chi shift.

I am impressed. Thank you Gaia.

reflections

Over the many years we have lived here we've been giving more and more of our large suburban lot back to "The Nature". Our deep backyard is now overgrown in stages. It spans from a young forest farthest from the house to a blooming meadow in the latest section we are naturalizing - ie. not cutting anymore.

As I was out on the tractor over the weekend I noticed a large gopher hole in this newly overgrown swath of lawn.
Of course... I worried a little. Holes like that can be dangerous.
Then, I remember we had an old reflector on a post in the garage and so I installed it at the site of the gopher hole.

I was very pleased with myself.

The next morning my nature-loving wife and I were sitting on the patio enjoying a cup of coffee.
I proudly pointed out my ingenuity.

weese: "Look...waay out there in the back yard. Look what I installed to protect the wildlife."
my curious wife: "Yes... I thought I noticed something out there."
weese: "See, now the deer won't break their little legs romping around back there."
my wiseguy wife: "Yeah, because deer have headlights."

hmm.

líricas instrumentales

I don't generally listen to music unless I am home and my melodious wife puts it on. She often does this, and I enjoy it immensely. I like her selections, and the way she strings certain songs together. Now, of course, there are certain songs that whenever I hear them I think of her.

But when I am on my own, I am pretty content with quiet. I rarely listen to music at work, and even more rarely in my car. Some folks say they like to listen to music while cleaning the house. I prefer silence. The act of cleaning is like meditation to me. And so I enjoy the gradual lessening of the chatter in my head as I go about the rote and caring tasks of housecleaning.

I have recently discovered however, that I can enjoy music here at the office - if it's instrumental. Lyrics tend to distract me from what I am doing, while music alone actually seems to help me to focus.

Not only that, but I have found that listening to music in other languages is just as good. Even better at times. I can truly enjoy the vocal performance... as an instrument, rather than get all caught up in some sappy story.

Y tan aquí me siento en mi escritorio en mi cubículo caliente, oscuro escuchando las canciones en Español, Italiano y Francés y gozando de ellos inmenso.

Brava!

Squirrelacide

Just mention squirrels this year and it seems every one concurs that they are going crazy around here.
The gathering and foraging is at an all time high – but then so is the mortality rate.
There are squished squirrels around every turn.
At first I attributed all the accidental deaths to the crazed preparation for the impending cold. I have read that when squirrels forage this early and fervently that it means we’ll have a hard winter. I assume there is alot of competition for those tasty, long lasting winter nuts and with that comes high anxiety. So I suppose a few casualties seems unavoidable.

That was until I witnessed the squirrelacide.

I was on my way into work one morning when I noticed the car up ahead brake as a squirrel ran across the road in front of it.
Whew, I thought – close call.

That’s when he turned around and ran right back across the road in front of my car.
WTH!
I looked in my rearview mirror and saw him sitting on the side of the road.
I imagine he was waiting for the next car to come along.

Is it the pressure of finding enough food that’s driving them to take their lives?
Perhaps the anxiety of the long hibernation makes it too hard to go on.
I suppose it could also be sport – tho they don’t seem too accomplished.

Ah, but the threat of a long hard winter can cause anxiety… even madness.
We have been stocking up on firewood since August; we’ve got piles and piles of it with another cord on the way.
But if you see me start to run across traffic for sticks – could you give my patient wife a call and ask her to up my meds?

my politics

It's everywhere, it's ubiquitous, it's larger than life...
it's the political opinion.

Every website, newspaper, magazine and commentary and commercials and billboards -- it's all political opinion. Opinion. You're blogging about. You have an opinion. Your opinion is right.

I stayed in tune with it for a short time. I began to watch the conventions, I got caught up in The Times, I was reading what you had to say on your blogs -- until I noticed...
I stopped, I became still, I became aware.
All of this political bombardment was actually causing physiological changes within me. These translated into something akin to anxiety. It didn't seem to matter whether I agreed with the opinion or not.

It didn't feel good.

Then I remembered ...choice.
I can choose my candidate, and leave you to choose yours.
I can also choose to avoid the deluge.
I can choose to feel good.

And so I choose to abstain.

So dear, dear friends - if your talking around the water cooler, I may quietly slip out of the room. If you are blogging about your politics, for which you are right and have every right to do, I won't be reading or commenting.

It doesn't mean I don't love you. It doesn't mean I won't drink water at work or that I won't check blogs to read about your latest home improvement fiasco, or how your dog has the sniffles.

I simply choose to find calm.

peace good friends

so many channels, so little...

They are starting to advertise for the 'fall TV lineup' --

seriously...people... are you not seeing this trend

Mind the sign

For various reasons over the past 20 some odd years I have had the occasion to drive a particular back road almost every day. Currently, this road takes me from my home in one town to my work in a neighboring town. So I am on it every week day. It's also the road we take when visiting my in-laws. So I am on it many weekend days as well.

Needless to say I am very familiar with this road. I have come to know some of the people living along the road - tho they most likely would not know me. I have seen their children grow up, I know when they get new cars, I know the ederly woman in the white tudor house needs more help these days, as I see her with visitors almost every day - where there used to be few.

This morning I noticed the deaf child sign.

Tho the sign is not new.

It's been there all of these years. I suppose it had just become part of the scenery.
I remember when Ferris was just learning to read and we drove by that very sign on the way over to his grandparents house. He read it to me and we discussed its merrit, and even it's lack thereof.

This morning I wondered -- where is this kid now?
Certainly he must be grown. But his sign remains. I wonder... does he even know its still there? Does he pass it every day like I do. Perhaps on his way to visit his parents.
Maybe a new family with a deaf child saw the sign and decided to move to the area, appreciating its convenience.

And so I will continue to drive this road... with renewed intent to heed the sign, because you just never really know.

It’s all too fast.

And frankly it’s getting tiring.

I long to live in a slower time. A time long gone. A time when we spent weeks on holiday, and days with friends, and hours reading, and long casual strolls for no other purpose than to stroll.

I got my bank statement yesterday and had to chuckle. The balance on the paper statement was several days old. So much had happened, my life had already changed. The balance now meaningless, the new balance fresh in my head from looking it up only hours ago… online.
I don’t want to have to know my balance everyday. But I must. Can’t be risking any of that identity theft. That can happen in a flash.
Can’t have that.
It all happens so fast.

I remember as a kid – watching my mom sit down in the evening at her desk to check her statement and balance her books. You could do that then. The balance on the statement most certainly matched the balance in your register. Ah yes – perhaps there was a check written here or there – but that would be neatly noted, and marked as outstanding …until your next statement. Checks were mailed. Then logged, then presented, then cleared… these things took time.

I want that time.

There was a time when we weren’t bombarded with 15 second visual images, a time before a 'snippet' even existed. When you might sit under a tree for an hour. Just to enjoy the tree.
There was waiting. You might need to wait for something or someone, and you would do just that – wait. No gameboy or cell phone, not even a book or magazine. You would just wait.

I want to wait.

Go back further. How about writing letters to communicate. Can you imagine? Waiting weeks to hear back from someone. You write a letter, drop it in the post and wait.
No instant response, no smiley face.

Perhaps you would write to a friend to inquire about a visit.

“Shall I visit in the Spring?” you might write before the winter holidays.

“Yes, yes please do come, I’ll arrange a room for you so you can stay till after solstice.” Your friend would write back, while beginning to go about the business of anticipating your arrival.

And so you would go to visit. You might arrive by carriage, with luggage and such – tho not several ginormous wheely bags filled with a store front full of clothes and a dozen shoes – no … you would have a case or if you were staying till midsummer a perhaps a trunk. You would stay with your friends, and have meals together and take walks and sit by the fire, and of course... have cocktails.

I want to visit.

Today, I am going to take my time. I am going to try to just slow life down, a little bit, as much as is reasonable while still getting through a regular day ...and not getting fired.

I will apologize in advance if you happen to be in the car behind me.

The Classics

I was out running errands on lunch today and uncharacteristically flipped on the radio.
I happened upon Peter and the Wolf – an updated narration by David Bowie. While not the classic, I was very pleased. Motoring around town reminiscing of my childhood… cold winter afternoons in feety pj’s listing to scratchy recordings and conjuring up fantastical images in my head.

I started to imagine how my grand wife and I might snuggle up with our children’s children, perhaps in front of the fire and listening to and participating in this wonderful musical tale – learning about the instruments and how their sounds make us feel the action and the emotion of each scene.
Then …

“And if one would listen very carefully, he would hear the duck
quacking inside the wolf, because the wolf, in his hurry, had swallowed her alive.”

Ah yes.. I had forgotten what a dark little tale Prokofiev can weave.
Hmm, perhaps we should start with something by the Brothers Grimm? ;)

Gaia

Change is good.

I may need to change my ways.

My enlightened wife and I had a romantic sushi dinner this weekend and we spent some time sipping Sake and chatting about the next chapters in our lives.
We adore spending time plotting and planning, looking ahead. We change our minds often…but generally we have the same underlying desires.
One of those desires is to be good and caring stewards of the earth.

To do this – there may be some changes. Both long term and right now.

For the short term...
It’s pretty common knowledge I spend a good deal of time, money and effort on lawn care. I’ve done a lot of research, and have a good working knowledge of how to have a fine lawn. Our lawn is a work in progress. It’s a large plot and there are always areas to tend and improve. To manipulate nature to meet my needs I use a variety of chemical enhancements.
The results can be stunning.






But at what cost.

We saw a news story over the weekend on the disappearing bee problem plaguing beekeepers around the country. One theory, which is really quite logical, is that insecticides are playing a nasty role.
Which means I am part of the problem.

This is where I need to change.
This change will not come easy to me.
I have already asked my forgiving wife not to be too disappointed if at first I fail.
Perhaps sneaking out in the middle of the night to apply crabacide by flashlight, or justifying my chemical dependency on insecticides by saying --we’ll just use up what we have now.

My heart understands that what I am doing is wrong. But will I be able to stand strong when the dandelions turn to puff balls, or will I bend like a tree in the wind (note to wear goggles when spraying trees on a windy days).

Let them eat cake!

Someone left the remnants of one of those humonguous sheet cakes in the kitchen at work today.
It's from BJ's.

I stared at it thinking how rarely I eat cake, or pastry or even cookies. Very rarely in fact.
So, if I were to have some cake - it certainly would not be a sheet cake from BJ's.
I want something spectacular.
A sliver of triple, chocolate, lacey something or another served on an expenisive, oversized plate with fanciful drizzles of fruity, syrupy swirls. A cake so rich that I would be forced to set down my fork before the plate was emtpy. A cake so supple that it slid across my tongue and melted ever so....

oops... sorry - I got carried away there.

But my point is this. Cake is not something anyone should be eating often. It's a treat. It should be rare, and it should be special.
So make it so.

Ménage' toi

Tho the threesome is happening only in my head.
And it’s not hot and steamy.
It’s more like a bad game of Twister. There are three of us in here Vanity, Conscience and Sensibility. It’s like a weesey twist on Freud’s Id, Ego and Superego[1]. And while I consider Freud to be a genius, albeit a deranged genius… my three decided we needed our own definitions. Plus, we didn’t like all those freaky parental references.

What keeps usme from being committed is simply that often times we agree. We know our own strengths, and easily bend to the others area of authority. Sometimes we even work together in pairs.

Take for example getting dressed each morning. Vanity and Sensibility often work together on this to pick an outfit that is both attractive and suits the day’s activity. They are a good team. Let’s say I am feeling svelte one morning. Well then Sensibility will concede to any apparel decision Vanity may arrive at. But let’s just say I’ve had chocolate cake and beer all weekend - Vanity sits quietly while we select something a bit more blousy.
One can argue that in such a case Sensibility is really being vain in trying to cover up any weekend indiscretion in diet, so perhaps it’s not really all Sensibilities decision… and thus arguing may ensue. The decision usually stands, but someone needs to get credit.
Of course it doesn’t end there. What if something goes wrong? Such as when Vanity selects white shorts for a picnic and then there is a spill – well doncha know Conscience steps in to point the finger every time…

So here we are, we three – riding around on the tractor this weekend. And boy was there a raucous lawn discussion going on. Each had such a good point that we actually left it at a stand still and went inside to watch football instead.
Here is our dilemma. Vanity wants to fertilize. In fact, it was Vanities decision to get the fertilizer without the weed-killer so that we could over apply thus achieving a better greening effect.
Sensibility, on the other hand, wants to stop spending all this money on the lawn.
And Conscience knows that if we decided not to fertilize we may later regret this decision.
Conscience also knows there is a possibility of regretting the money spent as well. So you see – our tie breaker Conscience is not helping at all.

Which is why we decided to go in and watch football – where immediately Vanity wanted a beer and Conscience had to remind Vanity, yet again, about the repercussions of beer drinking on our diet… when Sensibility steps in and has the audacity to say she wants a piece of bread – BREAD the other two scream… you must be joking!

It’s a wonder I get anything done at all really.

[1] Id
In Psychoanalytical theory, the part of the personality which contains our primitive impulses such as sex, anger, and hunger. The id doesn't care about reality, about the needs of anyone else, only its own satisfaction.
Ego
The part of the personality which maintains a balance between our impulses (id) and our conscience (superego). The ego is based on the reality principle. The ego understands that other people have needs and desires and that sometimes being impulsive or selfish can hurt us in the long run.
Superego
The Superego is the moral part of us and develops due to the moral and ethical restraints placed on us by our caregivers. Many equate the superego with the conscience as it dictates our belief of right and wrong.

there is a time

Autumn is a busy time. The leaves are turning and falling. The birds are gathering in great numbers to make their trek south. And weese begins to ponder and pontificate about the universe and the changing of the seasons and the great joy that the peace of the winter months can bring...

The days are getting shorter and darker. This frightens and upsets many people. The darkness feels as if it’s encroaching on their energy, stifling their joy.

I think, rather, we should look forward to this time of year. It’s a time for healing, of inner rebuilding, of rest. Winter is a necessary time -- juxtaposed to the banter and frivolity of the warm summer months with those long, endless days, and hot, festive evenings -- sometimes enhanced by pink fruity cocktails.

As the days shorten, let the darkening afternoons snuggle you into the sanctuary of your home. Think of the darkness as a warm blanket.
Let it be an excuse to sit and reflect and rest.
And while you are sitting and reflecting and resting - don't become sad or maudlin.
Remember to rejoice in the place you call home. If you cannot - then fix that first.
Your home must be the place you feel best. Fall is a good time to put that in order.
Set your house right, and let the winter happen.
Remember that spring feels so good because of winter.

But hey… before you go sitting down and putting your feet up – remember there’s a whole lot of fall maintenance to do... more on that later.

my walk

I walked at lunch today. It’s part of the new diet regimen.
I find it pleasant enough – it breaks up the day, and it’s not as involved as say… going to the gym.
Which I abhor.
It’s not that I don’t like to work hard. I would just prefer there to be a result of my hard work. O sure…weight loss, fitness, energy, blah blah – but I’d rather something a bit more tangible. Like say … I work really hard for a couple hours a day for a week or so and WALA there’s an addition on the house.
Or… I spend ½ hour in the morning and 20 minutes each afternoon and BINGO I’ve got a patio with outdoor grilling station – you see my point.

But the walking is fine.
I walked alone today – because my walking pal, J9, is a slacker (lets see if that gets her to comment). Since I was alone I had plenty of time with my own thoughts.
So I was walking along deep in thought weighing my options for the lawns fall feeding schedule when I noticed that most of the people walking alone had ipod-ish type things. (I almost typed ‘walkman’ ha!).

I pondered this.

Why do people listen to music as they walk? Does the beat motivate them? Do they change their pace when different songs come on? What type of music do they listen to? Do they silently sing along? Does it help to pass the time? I wondered if some people do it because they are uncomfortable doing things alone. I wondered if certain songs conjured memories… were they reminiscing as they walked. Did some songs make them sad… or happy? Some folks had ear buds, others had headphones – this made me think of the shape of my ears. I happen to have very large ears... well really its the lobes. Then I wondered which earrings I was wearing because I had forgotten. For a short time I played a little game where I tried to figure out which ones were in my ears without reaching up to find out. Then I saw a guy with a hat and wondered if he would have hat head by the time he got back to the office. I ended up behind a woman wearing her Ipod in one of those sporty armbands. I wondered if she had gotten it as a gift. Maybe on a holiday, maybe it was her birthday. Maybe they had cake that day. Cake has flour…and sugar – both of which are not on my diet. The walking is on my diet tho. Which is where this all started about ½ an hour ago. That's when I saw my reflection in the glass door to my office building and noticed which earrings I was wearing...

So…while someone singing sweetly in my ears for my ½ hour walk would be lovely –
I am thoroughly entertained by the tangents of my own thoughts.

I am glad I left my Ipod in the car.

Singing in the...

There was a tall, somewhat athletic woman who walked ahead of me into the ladies room this morning. She apparently works across the hall at another company, and I have seen her just once before so perhaps she is new. She is young, maybe late 20's, and attractive in a natural, hip sorta way. From the way she dresses and carries herself I wondered briefly if she played on my team. Could go either way I decided, and entered a stall.

That's when she started to hum... or even sort of sing softly as she entered the far stall. I thought this curious - and thought how people don't really sing much, and certainly I have never heard singing in the ladies room.
Should I consider this odd? Would this make me uncomfortable? Was this woman very happy? Was she melancholy? Clearly she was confident.
My mind was wandering down this path when I paused it to listen. The sound was genuinely beautiful. Sweet and sultry and only added to by that wondrous tiled-room echoey reverb. It was enchanting. I was surprised at myself for so thoroughly enjoying it.
And then it was over, interrupted by the rush of flowing waters and the soft thud of the door.

I have just refilled my water bottle, and anticipate several trips to the ladies room today.

in the night

I woke up somewhere around 3:00 this morning because of a wacky, somewhat scary dream. It didn't take me long to realize I had been dreaming and that I was now awake and safe and comfy with my slumbering wife close by.

Then suddenly, out of nowhere, I realized I had a grammatical error in yesterday's post.
I mean... the error just instantly popped into my head.

How does stuff like that happen?

Not my dog

On my way into work this morning I saw a dog poking around near the town green.
It was odd.
It shouldn’t have been odd because it was just a dog sniffing around – but as I thought more about it I realized that dogs don’t do that anymore.

Dogs are on leashes, behind intangible fences, in houses or cars… but not sniffing around… on their own… carefree and enjoying a fine summer morning.
When I was a kid you would see dogs. You would see dogs and kids, wandering all over the place. You thought nothing of it.

If your trash got knocked over by the neighbor’s dog you shook your fist, and put the lid on tighter next time, you didn’t call the police or a lawyer.
It was nothing to see a pack of 10 year olds come out of the woods looking like they had been in there for a week.
If you saw your neighbors kid climbing a utility pole you opened the window and yelled at them to get down before they killed themselves. Your neighbor was ok with that because they just chased your dog our of their garage.

They say the world is a different place now, that you can’t let your kids or dogs roam around without a leash and a GPS chip. But what made the world different?
Did the world really become such a bad place? Or did we just think it did?

I suppose I didn’t realize how much I miss seeing dogs wander around.