Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Shout Out to Kimala

When you really think about it one of the hardest things in any world is being positive. We are surrounded by so much negativity. Check that, we are bombarded by the stuff. I know I suffer from more than the occasional direct hit. Working on it, working on it:)....

So this one is dedicated to my RL godsend KIMALA /hoo

It may seem strange, but being positive has always been linked to our survival. Our primitive ancestors, who achieved a balance between cooperating and competing, were the survivors because they could both depend on the group and depend on themselves. Mounting medical evidence shows us that physical health is a by-product of leading a balanced, varied and satisfying life with an optimistic outlook. If this is true, what are some ways to keep us dancing in RL at age 80?

You can choose to accept things as they are. This doesn't mean that you wilt and give up. It means that you get on with your life when you are unable to alter events and other people. You move forward. Good advice in RL and SL. Ya listening dude?

You can choose to be resilient. Trees that bend with the wind are those that survive. Like a tree, you can bend and sway through life's hurts and frustrations * then bounce back again, supported by your strong deep roots. We can learn a lot from nature. Duh bigd...

You can choose to be cheerful. Cheerful people are like human battery chargers. When I'm tempted to go darkside, I'm starting to bite my tongue, count to 10, and get the crap look off my face. They say the stitches will disolve on their own. Just kidding....

You can choose to be upbeat. It's catching and the more upbeat you are, the more people around you will feel and act the same. This is Kimala to a "T".

You can choose to have a sense of humor. Hands down, SL has given me an outlet for my twisted sense of humor. I have laughed often and to the point of tears at the great senses of humor I have encountered. Never miss the opportunity to laugh at yourself. We are all treasure troves of f ups. I know I am. Chemically, laughter releases some nice chemicals in our bods that keep us healthy. Have fun and look hot? Hell yes!

You can choose to be humble. If you toot your own horn, the house will be empty. If you extoll other peoples mad skills, people can relax around you and be themselves. Don't front, just be.

Have an attitude of gratitude. Think about it. We all have so much to be grateful for. My wife is a knockout inside and out, my kids love us to death! With the attitude of gratitude you feel good about life and it does put a smile on your RL mug.

You can choose to have faith. For some people, this means believing in God or another higher being/entity. Having faith means believing that things will work out for you * and that you can work things out for yourself. Supernatural baby!!

You can choose to have hope. Without hope, life has no meaning or point. Hope may be your most important positive attitude * the basis for all others. What do you hope for? What's your purpose in life? If you pondered these questions as you read them, you're already a hopeful person.

PS I'd love to read your responses to the last questions I asked. You guys are fascinating!

Love, bigd

Monday, February 25, 2008

Edges cut

Early this morning I have come to the realization that you can hurt by helping. What was once a desire to lessen a burden had in fact taken on its own life and as a result had the effect of excluding others from helping you rather than your initial desired effect.

It's hard not to play the hero. It strokes your ego, I know it does mine. But along with this hero-martyr mentality comes a sense of I am alone. Nothing could be further from the truth but you get caught up in the false nobility of this.

People can only be relegated to second tier status for so long before they look at you and tell you, "You are hurting me and others in many ways." You have no response because frankly there isn't one. Through this sustained self-imposed crusade you have put yourself and others in, you have not helped anybody but have pushed a source of assistance too far away. You become so focused on the end result you trample important things underfoot.

What to do when you have a made a royal mess of things? You could further detach from the reality of the situation and say to yourself,"After all I've done." Just saying, or in this case typing, these words feels so wrong. You could say,"I just need to work even harder to show how much I care." No, that is wrong also because you are perpetuating the behavior that brought on such a negative outcome.

So this is what I came up with. Tell me what you think and this is where I connect it with SL. Thanks for your patience btw.

When I was out in SL yesterday, I noticed this club had chims rolling on the ground. As I went through the above, pondering this and pondering that I came to a conclusion. I need to do other things rather than being a work horse and pushing myself to the breaking point. I need to be a guy that smiles more, a guy that who actually looks like he appreciates the his wife and kids, a guy who doesn't lay the law down to his kids like some frontier marshall. I need to lose my fucking edge.

I can look back at my upbringing and say yes this is why, yes there's some overcompensation, etc. But its all bullshit to be honest. I'm here and I'm now. The moments I have f'ed up are forever gone. I can't get them back.

I turn it over. I can't risk my future and that of my family any more. I take the hero-martyr hat and place it in the open orb, I place the Wyatt earp mentality and its High Noon Dad badge into the open orb, I put the end result fixation with all its loose wiring into the orb, I put the crappy looks I wear on my face into the orb. But most importantly, I need to grab the edge, duct tape all the edges to bluntness and place that in the orb and close the door.

I seal the orb up and hold it aloft. I offer it up and ask for help. I can't be that person anymore. I can't feel so tired that I fail to hear, see or feel something wonderful that somesone says or does for me. I watch as the orb rises and disappears into the heavens. I take a deep breath and hope its not too late.....

Saturday, February 23, 2008

The Kite Runner

My blog topics have ranged from semi-serious to outright foolishness. All have their places in blogs, that can't be denied. I hope this one does too.

I recently finished one of the most powerful books I have had the good fortune to be brought to my attention. Its called The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini. It traces the life of an Afghani man till shortly after 9/11.

The universal themes this book touches upon are instantly identifiable as our human condition. I did not come of age seeing an ancient, beautiful country and civilization that was my own, being torn to shreds due to geopolitical and economic conditions. It is truly heart wrenching to know that so much human suffering never enters into our consciousness, with our adjacent worries of mortgages, marriages and children. This book has forever altered my perspective on how blessed my life is and how many things in it that I have subsequently taken for granted. If I continue to do this, I show contempt and ignorance of human suffering when I should know better. This book has helped me reach a place where I pray to God I never forget.

Sometimes, perhaps too infrequently, our country does something right. We assuredly got it right when we made the effort to remove the Taliban and their putrid criminal government out of Afghanistan. Imagine, if you will, an entire nation being systemtaically terrorized and brutalized by a fanatical criminal organization. Nazism anyone? This one we got right people.

What can we do? We can donate money to worthy causes, we can educate ourselves about what the Afghani people have endured, we can pray. All are worthy of consideration. All can help.

People often wonder if they would be doing something different if their lives had evolved on a different path. I've done it, I'm pretty sure you might have also. It is what it is and I'm truly grateful for all beauty and wonderment in my life. I'm a blessed person, as I mentioned earlier, living a very fortunate life in a very safe corner of a dangerous world. If I was under a different set of circumstances,I pray that I would have the faith and the courage to go to Afghanistan and help some fellow human beings who deserve our help, love and admiration. I will include Afghanistan in my thoughts and my prayers from now on.....

Sunday, February 17, 2008

A Different World

the other evening when I was out with Kimala at the Bee Hive I spontaneously embarked on a new SL career. Thanks to the generosity of Busy and Iris and Fun, I became a Busy Bee Dancer. I had no intention of doing this, it just happened!

Man it was fun. It shifted my focus on the evening from dancing and listening to music. I still did those things but also had a new responsibility of providing banter regarding my antics and talking with Iris who danced nearby. Busy gave me my directions to be as naughty as I wanted. That part wasn't to much of a stretch:).

I guess this is what makes SL, and life itself, so much fun. Something coming out of nowhere to change your day. Or in my case, evening. For some reason SL presents itself with less constraints than RL. Here I have 0 kids, few if any true responsibilities. But conversely, when I log on here I don't have two four year olds rush me when I pick them up at preschool with big smiles yelling, "Daddy!" BTW, the hugs I get there are beyond poseball capabilities. Its nice to be treated like a rockstar on a daily basis during the work week!

Thanks to everyone who made last Friday on SL so much fun! Previously my other source of generating funds was playing trivia. This was a lot of fun and I was saddened upon the closing of Triviv Monkeys. That place was fun and I met some of the nicest people there: Cherry, Sasha, Fanceey and many others. It pushed me to actually type quicker (LOL) and I enjoyed watching my name slowly ascend up the leader board! Never really found a place to replace it with the exception of AMS. There you have alot of other things to do, so it seems more scattered to me. Well, I feel way more scattered there anyway. So I think its just me.

As long as you keep cruising around and don't take yourself or others too seriously, I think SL is a good place. Here nobody fights for their life, falls into financial arreas, gets sent to war or contemplates taking their own life. This place isn't perfect but you can mute darksiders and relog from unpleasntness. And yes, I know I'm freeforming this blog entry. Its a morning write!

One last thing before I go. Yesterday night before I logged, I had the most tranquil experience in SL yet. I was laying on the hammock under the tree house that I got for a Valentines Day present from Kimala. The sun was setting, or rising, I do not know. Blissie and Kimala were laying on the hammock with me, it was so peaceful! My favorite blonde and brunette slowing swaying while we watched the sun do something. It was very nice and encapsulated everything good with SL. thanks ladies, I owe you one or twenty!

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Simple Trick

We are reading one of my favorite books in freshman English, To Kill a Mockingbird, by Harper Lee. I came across this Valentines nugget. Love each other people, its the best gift.

“First of all,” he said, “if you can learn a simple trick, Scout, you’ll get along a lot better with all kind of folks. You never really understand a person until you consider things from their point of view ----“


“—until you climb into their skin and walk around in it.”

This conversation between a father and his daughter sums up to me what Valentines is all about. Its stepping outside of yourself and seriously contemplating anothers point of view and another persons needs. Isn't this a true gift of affection? It will last alot longer than some beautiful flowers and be far less harmful than a box of chocolates. Besides, it will nourish you as well to take a time out from the you perspective to the other. We all like to fashion ourselves as alturistic people and to a degree we are. The next time you feel you are getting a raw deal,climb into that persons skin and walk around it. You may enjoy a new perspective that hadn't occured to you. Hope that this Valentine's Day is filled with love and maybe a nice walk;)

Saturday, February 9, 2008


You Are 16% Slacker

You are anything but a slacker. You're truly a go getter.
You never let laziness get in the way of living your life - and you can't stand to see it in others.

Where do you line up? Or should we just go to lunch and blow it off? LOL

Young Voices and Power

Art is the heart's explosion on the world. Music. Dance. Poetry. Art on
cars, on walls, on our skins. There is probably no more powerful force
for change in this uncertain and crisis-ridden world than young people
and their art. It is the consciousness of the world breaking away from
the strangle grip of an archaic social order." ~ Louis J. Rodriguez

1,2,1,2,3, Yeah

Me and all my friends
We're all misunderstood
They say we stand for nothing and
There's no way we ever could
Now we see everything is going wrong
With the world and those who lead it
We just feel like we don't have the means
To rise above and beat it

So we keep waiting (waiting)
Waiting on the world to change
We keep on waiting (waiting)
Waiting on the world to change
Its hard to beat the system
When we're standing at a distance
So we keep waiting (waiting)
Waiting on the world to change

Now if we had the power
To bring our neighbors home from war
They woulda never missed a Christmas
No more ribbons on the door
When you trust your television
What you get is what you got
'cause when they own the information ooohhh,
[Waiting On the World to Change lyrics on]

They can bend it all they want!

That's why we're waiting (waiting)
Waiting on the world to change
We keep on waiting (waiting)
Waiting on the world to change
It's not that we don't care
We just know that the fight ain't fair
So we keep waiting (waiting)
Waiting on the world to change

We're still waiting (waiting)
Waiting on the world to change
We keep on waiting (waiting)
Waiting on the world to change
One day our generation
Is gonna rule the population

So we keep on waiting (waiting)
Waiting on the world to change
Now we keep on waiting (waiting)
Waiting on the world to change
We keep on waiting (waiting)
Waiting on the world to change
Waiting on the world to change
Waiting on the world to change
Waiting on the world to change.

What will their world be like? We are only borrowing it you know. The young ones are close behind. People should not cringe at this thought. They are products of nebulous times but they are more gounded than you think. One common thread I've noticed: they loathe self-absorption. Maybe they will be in the right place at the right time. I kinda think they will;).

Thursday, February 7, 2008

Potential and Forgotten Band Names

I used to be in a band. I played bass. It was fun and we got paid in beer and ....stuff. We played fiesta parties and the occasional bar on State Street. The name of our band was Ed Asner's Back
Ed was a burly, hairy guy that we would laugh about. Like him having a death wish and going hiking in Alaska without a shirt during hunting season. You get the drift... Life wasn't real complicated back then.

The idea of band names has never really left me. I'll hear a phrase, and I will spontaneously think to myself,"That would be a good band name." Still happens to this day. Some names have stuck in my mind. At least until the shock therapy takes hold....

Mong Van - I even came up with a concept for their first CD cover. It shows a large van, circa early 80's, orange and filled with Downs Syndrome people. The title of their first CD is room for one more. If this band could do some 3 chord blasting, it might go platium. Remember there is no bad PR.

I still like Ed Asner's Back. I know I'm biased, so be it.

I've always liked No Life East of I-5. This was my smug coastal period for which I will not apologize. Sorry about that.

Cocktails from Hell. I was in this band at their rehearsal stage and formation period. They found a replacement bass player that had superior skills to me. Very cool guys. Their front singer was the great grandson of Cecil B. Demille. They were a pre Janes Addiction outfit that did the most incredible version of Neil Young's Ohio. They weren't political, I think they dug the chord structure.

Bloody Anal Discharge. Wicked and horrible but very early 80's LA punk scene. They never made it out of my head. Do I hear a collective sigh? LOL

I'll think of more. They are like the voices in my head, they just won't leave me alone. You got any? I'd love to hear them...

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

Dreams Under Construction

Lately I have been talking and thinking about dreams. They have the ability to mirror everything going on in the past, present and future. There are resources out there that will help you delve into what they mean. Or at least, perhaps, point in some direction.

People have told me that they have dreamed about me. Not my pixelated other self but me. One dream about me was fascinating and required some outside perspective by a woman with bruja roots. Let me explain, a woman I work with is Hispanic. She was the one who had the dream about me. Not that kind of dream silly! She has relatives still in Old Mexico who are tied to the essence of the place. Not on your toursit paths I would imagine. Focus big Focus!!

She is at a restaraunt with three of her friends. They are enjoying big mugs of traditional Mexican Hot Chocolate. You know with the cream and the cinnamon sprinkled liberally on the cream and the saucer itself? So they are at this restaraunt on a patio that is surrounded by large trees full of green leaves. The leaves are swaying in the breeze ever so gently.

I walk by. She knows who I am but its a tip of the toungue type of sceanrio. I don't look sad but am just strolling through the locale. As I continue to walk, I turn my head slightly to look at the people enjoying their mugs of hot chocolate. At this point, according to the recepient of the aforementioned dream I am encased in a box? of silver rain. I do not look alarmed and continue to walk on my way.....

I'm not sure if I want to hear about this one or not! Of course I jest, I've got to know. Any thoughts?

If I could have one dream come true it would be this: to be with my family at a summer house where our children were born. To be holding them all on a star filled night when the heaven seems to be a blanket of stars I could wrap us all in. I could enjoy their warmth and they in turn could enjoy mine. I would have my nose near my wifes beautiful hair and smell its soft, wonderful fragrance. She and I would hold each other tightly with our fab foursome so close to us that they are part of us. We would all smile at one another knowing that we had all truly come home....

I hope your dreams are of love and peace. I will dream of you in those terms...

Monday, February 4, 2008

Blends happen

My first impulse was to blog about a memorable dog. Always loved Jim's poetry and as a kid and adult that had dogs, it really spoke to me. Googled to find one of poems that spoke of a dog that had passed and found out about his passing also. This blend just came out.....

When I was dating my then girlfriend I inherited her dog Bear. I swear to this day the dog was touched by extraterristials. If not abducted. She was a chow + lab equation. Energy with its own atomic number and athletic skills! If there was a canine olympics, this dog would have owned the gold. Could jump an 8 foot fence from a standing position and could do marathons back to back to back. Oh yeah, all the while carrying a deer leg bone in her mouth. The damn dog ate a chipmonk for a training snack once. Good God as James Brown would say!!

This dog was graced with a deportment that bordered on devilish. She would get out and that would be a situation, to say the least. Run amok is a phrase that comes to mind. To prove this point I offer this: what dog on the loose would pick one house out of an entire neighborhood and trash a zen rock garden?

She was miraculous in her insanity. It was a classic love/hate relationship. But if the truth were told, and I'm doing that, she was the first dog to sniff our two oldest as infants to give them the accepting lick upon their heads. I guess it was her welcome offering to our pack. It came from her heart as it is with all dogs.

I have fond memories of her leaping through a foot of freshly fallen snow, or in winds that made me rush inside for warmth. She would be out back in her prime wagging her question mark tale and smiling a smile that would all but convey," buy the food moron, my ass is free!"

We moved to milder yet harsher climes about 4 years ago. She was an old dog now, still full of piss and spark if you caught her on the right day. Her muzzle had grayed and her hips ached her fierce. I don't think she really could hear anymore. She was the one family member destined to stay in the cooler climes of 7,000 feet.

I took her to the vet that day. Amidst the chaos of packing and moving. I had her sit up front so I could scratch her ears and talk to her. The short 5 minute trip to the vets was a flood of memories: of falling in love, of fun walks in the mountains, of watching my wifes belly grow with our first two sons, of secret whispers in the shovel ears of baby b.

I lifted her on to the table. The young lady vet explained that it was painless really and that she would have suffered moving down to the valley with its 110+ degree days. She asked if I was ready and I just nodded my head.

The first shot made her groggy in about 15 minutes. I talked to her as I did my sons when they were young and fighting sleep. I spoke of blazing aspens and her then jet black fur. Her endless energy and the excitement she would have at the thought of a baby hamster being nearby. The sigh that she would utter when she laid against the woman that I had fallen so deeply in love with. She sighed one last sigh and snuggled her face against my hand.

The doctor asked me if I wanted to say goodbye before the last shot was given. If I wanted time and then had the option of excusing myself before the grand finale. I opted out and stayed. I owed Bear this last gesture. The shot was given.

Her body tensed and I felt that familiar strength again. I felt her leaps, her escaping bursts of speed, her essence. It was over, she was gone. The vet said I'll give you a few minutes. As I stroked her gray muzzle one last time, I thanked her for her being part of package deal. It was the best bargains I've ever had.

People and pets don't last forever. I'll wander these broad manicured suburban streets for you tonight Jim and Bear.

A shocker!

Working on this I found out a favorite poet had passed. Sigh.... Great poet and a real fixture in Northern Arizona. Some how his passing fits in with this eventually finished blog. I had to share one of the poems he shared with some high school students from a time that seems a million years ago. Damn, the man was only 54 years old! We only visit any world for a short duration of time, why not make the best of it? :)

1. The marrow of it's this:
that night after night I dream
you alive, dream you clawing
up and through the snarl
of spade-lopped roots and loam,
through the cairn beneath the pine
in a bower of pines, a wildwood
of pines, beneath a wheeling moon --
shaking from your body
the tattered blanket, shaking
from your throat the collar
of blood -- the ball
in your moth where I left it,
your coat wet where I kissed it --
breaking through underbrush
onto the trail, tracking it back
to the tired-rutted road --
loping now, running now --
your nostrils flared
and full of the world --
ignoring the squirrel,
ignoring the jay, ignoring
the freeway's litter of bones - -
night nearly dead as you
bolt for the lane,
up the drive, into the yard --
panting now, breathing now --
racing from door to window to door,
scratching at the screen,
whining at the glass, the ball
in your mouth -- Lo,
wouldn't I shake from this
sweet gnawed dream to rise
and fetch you in
with the light that returns
me day after day,takes you again and again.
-- Jim Simmerman, ca1989

The original BB - Baby Bear

Working on a blog entry about an influential animal that came with the Kimala package.......