Category Archives: Personal

Fayetteville, Humor, Lemon Moment, Personal

Saturday Morning Pterodactyls

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I love writing about positive interactions. But I remind people that not all of them are. A few minutes ago, I managed to make myself laugh after running into someone who thinks the world was created just for her.

Wandering the park, I was listening and watching for birds. Not people.

“What are you doing?” The woman’s voice surprised me. I looked up to see a woman standing a few feet away. She held a leash attached to a beautiful dog.

“I’m enjoying the morning. How are you doing?” I smiled as I looked away from my bird app for a second.

“No, I meant, what are YOU doing?” There was a tone to her voice, one which implied that she was both the gatekeeper of the area and had the right to ask anyone at any time how dare they be where they are.

“Right now, I’m wondering how cleverly I can indirectly insult you so that you’ll go about your morning and enjoy it so that I can do the same.”

“There’s no reason to talk to me that way,” she said, as she pulled on the dog leash. The dog wanted me to pet it. Or perhaps rescue it from the clutches of its owner. She looked the kind of dog owner who would individually count every pebble of food before feeding the dog. I had an aunt like that.

“Well, I hope you enjoy the rest of your day,” I said as I smiled.

The woman grunted and mumbled to herself as she marched away. I’m 100% sure that she wished she had a hard marble surface to stomp on so that I would have to listen to her heels clicking as she high stepped.

When she reached a point about 20 yards away from me and across the steel bridge, I couldn’t resist. Some of the people who know me know I do one hell of a pterodactyl scream. I let loose.

I watched as the woman froze and looked around. Not seeing anything, she returned to her disapproving high step walk. At which point, I let out an even louder pterodactyl scream. She froze again for a second and then walked as fast as anyone can without breaking into a run.

Because of the early hour and the magical absence of traffic or mundane sounds, you might be surprised how far a pterodactyl scream carries in the beautiful misty morning.

I let out five shriekingly loud pterodactyl screams before letting the morning return to its normal quiet state. Just in case someone else is using the Merlin app. They’ll have one hell of a story trying to explain the noise they heard on an early Saturday morning.

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Fayetteville, Humor, Personal

Musical Encounter

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It was a rough day today, much like trying to explain the first amendment without flash cards to a cabal of conservative voters.

When I exited the inconvenience store, loud obnoxious music filled the air, as if a tone deaf demon were playing a violin and singing garbled Korean folk music. 

I casually looked into the car producing the nightmarish music. A rather menacing-looking man sat in the driver’s seat while smoking a cigar. 

Before thinking better of it, I reached into my car and pulled out one of my sets of headphones. 

I turned around and asked him if he needed some headphones. 

“No, but that was kind of you to offer.” He smiled really big.

“I wasn’t offering them out of kindness. I’m not very fond of my ears bleeding.” Keep in mind that I didn’t smile or give me any indication as to whether I was joking. 

The man took a second the process my complaint. Thankfully, he laughed. 

“You’re not a fan of Sleazy Milktoast MC?” He asked me. (That’s not what he actually said, but the string of syllables he cited as the name of the alleged singer might as well have been that.)

“I bet it’s good for clearing crowds,” I immediately answered. 

“You got jokes! That’s good. Hit me with another one.” 

It took me less than 1/20th of a second to fire back. “That music is to rap music what Creed is to rock.”

He laughed hard again. “What are you listening to in your tiny blue car?”

“Since I qualify for AARP, I’m required by federal law to listen to NPR or hardcore elevator music.” 

Because I just received a gift of the kind of expensive headphones I would never buy myself in a million years, I offered him my $12 pair again. 

“Nah, I’m good. Listening is performance art.” He grinned at his own cleverness. 

We exchanged a couple of more rapid-fire good-intentioned insults before I got in my car. It was very difficult to pretend that I wasn’t listening to NPR as I drove off. I waved as I drove away. He laughed again and waved his cigar out the window. 

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PS The included picture has zero to do with my story. The man in the picture was just an interesting guy out enjoying the day on the trail. 

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Government, Humor, Opinion, Personal, Religion, Social Rules

Do Unto Others

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If “Love thy neighbor as thyself” is too much, “Don’t be a dick” is a workable compromise.

If you’re averse to complexity, “do no harm” is a nice recap. “Stop hitting me in the face” is the minimum expectation.

“Live and let live,” if only for the entertainment value of observing human beings as we claim to use reason and logic, yet behave as if we are hyenas caught in an electric fence.

If your personal beliefs or religion (arguably and allegedly) forbid tramp stamp tattoos, drinking, bikinis, sex on a seesaw, rainbows, compassion, handlebar mustaches, caffeine, smoking, eating animals, or voting sensibly, then observe the beliefs you’ve chosen. 

The greater the tendency a person has to impose their chosen beliefs on others, the greater the probability the afore-mentioined person is an asshole. (One who has yet to discover the agony of someone else telling THEM how to live.)

I’m too old and too cranky to listen to the various forms of dogma and indoctrination go to war with each other about whose book says what. If you live your life the way you want and others do the same, everyone’s much happier. It’s not my fault no two denominations agree, much less the individuals inside of each group. It’s remarkable that most people use the same book, yet no two people agree on the interpretation or the applicability of the contents to their lives.

You don’t have to help someone on the side of the road if they have a flat, but it would be nice if you don’t shout “You should have planned your life better” at them as you drive by and then steal their tire iron. 

A lot of what we’re experiencing in society is the metaphorical equivalent of the flat tire scenario. 

If recent events are any indication, the ones who disagree won’t like it any better than the rest do if the dynamic flips and they are the ones being hindered or silenced. 

Reading the idiocy about the anti-Christian bias proposals gives me a multitude of thoughts and concerns. Very few people are anti-Christian, but attempting to favor one religion over another or a paticular brand of one is un-American and prohibited under the constitution. Everybody’s religion has elements that everyone else looks at and rolls their eyes. It’s human nature to misunderstand the beliefs of others, not to mention scoff at holy water while putting on their magic underwear. 

You can’t demand conformity for others and then reject it when it’s your turn to suffer the consequences of those abusing power to tell you that you must follow ideology you don’t agree with. 

For those who’ve studied history, no one wants theocracy. It inevitably disintegrates into an unrecognizable and extreme mess that satisfies no one and limits our ability to live freely.

Each of us is free to exercise our religion but that freedom ends where another person’s freedom begins. Especially if bacon or coffee is involved. 

47 and people like him have continued to co-opt religion for their own purposes. It’s a story as old as time. I could not have imagined that our country would seemingly embrace the folly of someone so unqualified to represent the grace of belief and religion. 

I don’t dislike religion. I dislike dogma and the infinite amount of zealotry that some people have when they seek to dictate how other people live in a free society. 

I’ve started carrying protology referral cards in my wallet. Don’t be surprised if I hand you one. Since I’m an ass sometimes too, you can hand me one if you catch me behaving similarly. I’m the guy who sits in the back pew because I’m not fond of lightning strikes. 

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Family, Humor, Language, Personal

FU Mom, With Love

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FU Mom, With Love

Periodically, I have to remind everyone that I am an expert curser. I know my angelic appearance apparently indicates that I’m not. Don’t let my amateur bowler looks fool you.

I grew up with world-class cursers. If Merriam-Webster had published a compendium of cursing, both of my parents would have been mentioned in the preface.

Dad loved paying anyone young enough and stupid enough to approach another family member and quote whatever curse word he was currently tickled with. I’ve mentioned before what his favorite was. If you’ve watched the TV show Deadwood, Mr Wu spoke almost exclusively using this word.

(If you haven’t watched Deadwood, you’re missing out on the juxtaposition of Shakespearean turn of phrase and sailor-worthy cursing.)

My mom could and would curse at the most inappropriate times and sometimes at maximum volume. Attempting to get her to stop was the equivalent of pouring gasoline on a forest fire in hopes that it would go out. Even though I shouldn’t recall some of it so glowingly, a lot of my good memories of her were referring to people as a son of a bitch at the drop of a hat. You could almost feel the demons being summoned when she pulled out the MOFOof.

Studies have shown that people who curse tend to be happier than those who don’t. The corollary to this is that most non-cursers tend to be unhappier precisely because of all the cursers around them.

I pity anyone who gave up cursing for Lent. If cursing were represented in real life as they are in comics, the air around me would be filled with “@#!@#$” while I watch or read the news.

P.S. I created the video using AI. Had it REALLY been my mom, no one would dare be closer enough to her if she were rant-cursing. I’m convinced her aura was powerful enough to negate a modern MRI. Now that she’s memories, I love remembering how epic her rants could be. She was a Pat Conroy in the world or creative cursing.

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Opinion, Personal, Politics, Safety

Safety

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The overgrown and unmaintained trail back in here is beautiful. Of course, I have to be careful walking barefoot. Or I’m supposed to be. I saw and heard 29 different kinds of birds. None new on this walk. 

The idea of safety followed me among the trees, the brush, and the birds.  I don’t need to remind you of my past to echo the stupidity of safety. A glance down at a phone, an unstable artery inside your brain, and even airplanes falling can precipitate an unexpected demise despite a life perfectly lived.

Because of a purported leader we allegedly chose, now we have to be concerned that anyone can be kidnapped under the color of unidentified law and taken to a foreign prison. Our country is supposed to be founded on justice for all. Yet, we collectively look away as people who followed all the rules get snatched from their jobs and family. 

It can’t happen to anyone I know, or so people think. An injustice permitted upon one is an injury to all of us if we’re decent people. When there are no clear lines, there will always be people who take advantage and do wrong.

The Golden Rule stipulates that we should do unto others as we would have done to us. That alone should serve as a warning who go one step too far and harm other people. 

I’ll listen to the birds and enjoy the beautiful weather because that’s the only option I have. To ponder the potential of our current state of affairs too long can only lead to anger and frustration.

We once believed we were better than all of this. We’re not.

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Music, Personal

Inopportune (A Song)

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You enter a small, intimate club. A piano, backlit by a soft light, is on the small stage up front. A microphone stand is to the right of the piano. The singer is due to come to the stage at any moment. You sit facing the stage. To your left is your husband, who looks across at you nervously. He admires you and your dress, then smiles.

A brightly-dressed woman with hair wrapped like days of old enters the stage from the left. She sits at the piano, adjusts the hem of her mid-thigh dress, and nods. The audience lights go dim.

Your husband abruptly stands, bows slightly toward you, and then makes his way through the onlookers.

As he climbs the five steps up to the stage, you realize he’s conjured a surprise. Long past are the days when such surprise once ruled your lives. Unbeknownst to you, that drives his nervous legs onto the stage.

He turns briefly to the pianist, who smiles, nods, and places her hands above the piano keys. His right hand cradles the old microphone as his left grips the stand below.

“I know we’ve lost a touch of magic over the years. I miss the connection we once took for granted. I still see the same bright, beautiful woman I met all those years ago. This song is for you, hoping you want to rekindle the flame that needs fragile attention.”

And the music begins to play…
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Inopportune

[Verse 1]
swallowed desire doesn’t nourish a soul
lasting long enough, it takes its toll
like standing at a banquet admiring the food
wondering why no one hands you a spoon

[Pre-Chorus]
beauty gives confidence; therein lies a truth
but it also lies to those who perceive it
any fool will throw away the pan
if they can’t find the gold

[Chorus]
we don’t live in a theory or in our heads
the same beauty you relish is a pain to behold
you might as well be standing on the moon
seeing but not experiencing is inopportune

[Verse 2]
if it’s all take and no give, what’s the point
you might as well be looking at a painting
behind an impenetrable blindfold
keeping your secret desires untold

[Pre-Chorus]
we want admiration, desire, and passion
without it, we might as well dine on air
it isn’t enough to be standing and staring
a cyclone of needless despairing

(chorus)
we don’t live in a theory or in our heads
the same beauty you relish is a pain to behold
you might as well be standing on the moon
seeing but not experiencing is inopportune

[Outro]
food for the eyes is food for the soul
the primal beat of our human hearts

Lemon Moment, Personal

Red Moon Eclipse

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Because I’m up early enough every morning, I went outside to enjoy the beautiful weather at 1:00 a.m. and to watch the red blood moon eclipse. As with so many things, it doesn’t matter whether I post a beautiful well-defined picture or a careless one. I took pictures when the moon was crimson, but oddly prefer the crescent-lit luminescent bites of the Moon. You can find beautiful red shots of the moon in other places. All of them will render second hand experiences if you weren’t up and outside to witness it

Pictures have meaning when they are anchored to first-hand experiences. To stand outside barefoot close to the Ides of March, looking up to the sky in the dead of the morning was special. But it’s like trying to explain the color blue to someone without vision. It was my stolen moment and I’m sorry you weren’t there to witness it.

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Behavior, Government, Justice, Opinion, Personal, Politics, Protest, Racism and Prejudice, Security, Trump

Hate

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Earlier today, someone shouted an old Spanish nickname of mine. It was an odd place to hear an old nickname. I remembered him immediately because he had the same smile, although it was hidden behind twenty additional years of hard-earned wrinkles. I will call him Sonrisa.

He told me he works with my old friend Carlos. After joking about the unlikelihood of Carlos working much and sharing a laugh, Sonrisa told me that Carlos was giving up on getting the citizenship that he had been promised for years. Both Carlos and Sonrisa are incredibly hard workers. Sonrisa told me a version of the same story I’ve been hearing repeatedly over the last few months: most of their cohort has given up on the United States being the promised land it once was. 

They’ll probably return to El Salvador. It will be a loss for everyone. Not only are they hard workers, but they’re funny even in English. 

They didn’t used to be prone to cynicism. Sonrisa remembered that I was one of the few gringos who actively stood out in the crowd in recognition of the contribution of Latinos. 

He wasn’t surprised when I told him that there was not much hope in sight to feel respected as long as the current crowd of political idiots get their way. 

I’m paraphrasing, but Sonrisa added, “You know he’s an idiot when he starts a fight with a friendly white country like Canada. I know if we go back to El Salvador we’ll experience similar authoritarian BS like we do here. But at least it won’t be based on prejudice.” He added, “I remember years ago when you said it was better for people to curse you directly to your face because then at least you knew who they were. We had a few great years here where the racists mostly kept to theirselves. We always knew it was there. But now? He gave them permission and gasoline to act openly.”

There’s no need to explain what people mean when they use the word ‘HE.”

I waved goodbye to Sonrisa and asked him to tell Carlos hello for me.

I silently hoped that 47 and the people who support him don’t get their way. But on the other hand, as always, a little part of me also hoped that they would continue to f*** around and find out.

Not only about the absence of a sufficient workforce to prop up our economy, but also the unavoidable consequences of believing that you can denigrate one group of people without harming the respect threshold for everyone else 

Hate breeds hate, and distrust contaminates everyone. 

There is no “them.” They are us and vice versa. You’ve simply avoided being targeted. Yet. 

Authoritarians and those who believe they have the right of superiority are never content. Fear-mongering is an appetite that never lessens.

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Government, History, Opinion, Personal, Politics, Safety, Trump

JD And DJ Rage

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The lady listening to JD and DJ give a master class on narcissist idiocy accidentally gave the world a recap of what the people in the room were witnessing.

Watching the videos of JD and DJ attacking Zelensky made me embarrassed and infuriated.  There’s a reason such behavior shocks. Presidents do not behave that way. Raging alcoholics might. Narcissists definitely do, but usually in private. 

How anyone versed in history or politics could see this behavior as anything other than a huge red flag baffles me.

It’s not strength. It’s toxicity. 

People who demonstrate this type of behavior have no place in politics or government. 

JD was already pissed off because the special sofa he asked for was not made available for the meeting. 

DJ oozes the type of demeanor and behavior that defines him. 

Our previous allies were already on a razor’s edge about the mountain of incredible things that have come out of the mouths of our administration. 

Because I follow a lot of international news, I can tell you that while the United States might be feared, this is the equivalent of waiving a gun around in a room. Our previous allies are no longer looking at Trump as a buffoonish distraction. They understand that he is leading our country toward something unrecognizable and as a threat to world stability.

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