Forest for the Trees

Ah so what. You are back here…not there. Mentally, you are still there anyhow. Often wondered if those who always live in beautiful surroundings have the same perspective. Before changing to my current location, I had a spectacular view of the wooded hillside through my bedroom window – could lie in bed and watch the moon rise. Each season had it’s own beauty in that flat…I never tired of it.

But finances and timing only allowed me to remain there fourteen years…lol. When I was moving, it seemed “that” length of time, was indeed too short. Hillsides and greenery and skylines never diminish in their beauty and the older I get the more important it becomes to ‘be there’ again. This "space" has been homey...but after another 15 years here - it is still, nothing but a space.

Probably I cannot hope for anything as special as my picture window views in Ayr, but I sure recon I will darned well try to find a place with a similar feeling. Tempest fugit, as they say – and I’m getting too long in the tooth to be livin in a place I disdain. Sigh. It’s gonna be a long winter, and another year maybe, but I hope I find “home” this time.

aaRgh! Yohoho & a bottle of Grey Goose

Who would ever want to see such escalations of violence happening in the world. Certainly not I, since I have not visited enough places on the planet.

Walking the plank wearing a Rollex and designer clothes though, is a thought that probably never crossed the minds of the sorts of folks taking $5M/week cruises today. And that they and their mortality may be in jeopardy now and in the future? hmn...doubt they ever thought about their safety in those terms.

The clandestine theft of most of the world's wealth - well Balzac had it right when he said "Behind every great fortune lies a crime". On any moonlit night, there is nothing new about this fact, or these processes. However, the world is now overpopulated in many places - and our resources dwindling down. The concept of actually really sharing, never took hold - no matter the century or locale.

Not my comment several years ago (that we were approaching a time when the rich folks were no longer going to be safe in the streets), nor world history seems interested in bringing about more realistic and measured thinking into the everyday values of those fortunate few at the pinacle of their "careers": sharing, caring, and trying to conserve.

And now I have to retract my defense of Judith Miller of the NY Times supposedly protecting 'confidentiality of her source' too - since I realize her imprisonment was due to her own hubris at needing to be a Washington & top shelf newsroom "player"... time may provide the actual truth that she was protecting the vice president himself. And the fox is not only in the hen-house, but we have bought the farm I fear.

Greed, obfuscation and puritanism (create an anagram using the first letters of those words). Sad sad times. Good thing a "cruise" would never have been a choice for me. I will take the train and take my chances.

A usual night sky

Imagine returning home to a neighbors teenage son's gangsta truck (still under construction) - as one view out a window...and a 20-30 somethin Sloan Ranger's specially heated outdoor porch, complete with barbi...always smokin towards your bedroom windows? Enough said.

Starry Night

for Vincent

Reality Baby

Apologizing to my friends, I've been beset with spam & advertising (left as comments)...so,

Please do not put your adverts into my blog as comments. I am not male, so I am not interested in Viagra. If I was male, I would realize erectile dysfunction was nature's way of telling me it's time to slow down...or quit. One of the most unattractive things about some in this world, is their inability to realize or accept their actual age, their actual looks, and to take a hard look at their own behavior.
I hope I am not "part of the problem" in this world - I try to conserve: I care about the environment, I believe in the effect of my own actions or inactions on others around me. The only thing I am zealous about is trying to live an honest and caring life. It is not a compliment or positive feedback to crum up someone's blog with spam. GO AWAY...spam and spammers of this world - you are part of life's new pollution!!

Shadows on the heart

Windblown, standing in this place, where someone wisely placed this “Commandos” monument to the Green Beret’s of WWII, you have Scotland’s famous Ben Nevis in one direction and Anoach Mor nearby. Worst or best moments in life should be set in places where they can be viewed from every angle, in every light.

Few memorials achieve spiritual liftoff however. So when I arrived outside “Rest and Be Thankful” in 1985, my return bus ride found me leaning against the coldness of the window, hoping my heart and feelings could withstand the emotion I was feeling. With a burning lump in my throat and every emotion unraveling, I managed to hold my breath and take this photo.

Most people go through life unnoticed and, for the most part, un or under-appreciated. The wealth in my life is the richness of my treasured friendships. Were it not for these friends I would never have had rich colorful experiences, nor would I have stood in the mountains taking such photos.

What an Eyefull

On any given evening, depending on kinds of clouds, this was my nightly view from the room of my flat in Ayr, Scotland. That is “Graham and Gil's flat”…my great friend Davie’s fabulous son and daughter. Right before departure, Graham offered up their flat for my stay. Among the special things friends have done for me during my life, this surely rates with the most magnanimous offerings I’ve had. My thanks to Captain Davie – but then in turn to his family for welcoming me as if I had always been part of their lives.

For all those loving clouds and scenery, I will add the highland photographs with comments (although Scotland's scenery really needs no annotations) over the next few days. My great buddy Ruth, drove me through many of the most scenic areas in the countryside. Without her help, I would have only a few photos.

Sadly, I am back in Steppford until I determine where home will be. Doubly sadly, that won’t be Scotland. My heart, actually, never left the highlands going back to 1985.

BigEasy way out...

When you fly into New Orleans, landing flights go straight ahead one second, and make an immediate bank, turn left or right and dive in – so suddenly that you feel you must be – about to die! This is due to the highways, overpasses and heavily populated areas, being immediately next to the landing field.

Horrified looking at the Hurricane Katrina’s aerial radar shots prior to landfall I was scared for all those along the coastline, already so ravaged by previous storms. It appeared to me that this was going to hit New Orleans – it seemed a certainty. The thought passed through my mind that special evacuation plans needed to be in place because I knew there was a huge population living at the poverty line and below in this area.

Heady evenings with friends around a table of spicy steamy crawfish: days at the fairgrounds moving tent to tent immersed in music! The ancient southern homes, the Spanish moss hanging everywhere – TipiTina’s – the Neville Brothers….up all night. Drinking Hurricane’s on the veranda at O’Brien’s. Life is good. Friends all around.

Bad planning? Hmn. Photos on TV today showed two different still shots of people who had been “shopping” in the storm. The black couple – they labeled “looters”….the white “finding bread and water”. Today it looks like Louisiana native and a 3-star general, is finally in-charge! Golly, thank you.

In life, it is always how you treat those beneath you on the social ladder, that is a true indication of who you are in a moral sense. One of the finest meals I had in New Orleans (with a group of eight friends) was on advice from a black cabbie – Chez Louise. Outside town – broken down place – and we were the only white faces there.

You can’t patronize the working class. We recognize our lot in life and while many of us strive to break free of it, few of us ever succeed. The key thing is – in the end – the only thing that really matters is people, and your health. We have killed many of our own citizens in this disaster, through inaction and laziness. From not providing vehicles to evacuate the poor, to selling contracts for levees to lowest bidders, to passing a transportation bill packed to the gills with “pork barrel” projects. I could go on…

For quite some time I have felt ashamed of the citizenry here by and large, on so many levels. Greed/avarice – but also, no ethics or morality or integrity. If this tragedy does not make us all, reassess our actions? Otherwise there is, no way out.

Peace

Greed, avarice, obfuscation, and arrogance has led to an unjustifiable war. The elders in all nations must sit down and stop this now. And there must be a leveling of resources in the world to find that higher plain. Nothing should be about money or oil. Everything is only about human beings, our animal friends, and the planet.

Confidential

Black on black, what a day. So something is only allowed to “be” confidential if the ownership of that data or information is the government or some corporate entity. Today there is very little difference between those two groups, and what could be sadder for a country founded on idealistic principles.

Never willing to play victim in any situation, life or professional, my history definitely testifies to how anonymous you are unless you ‘go along’. With my hands processing, copying or typing or both – with my eyes averted, I still realized and saw documents pertaining to the next corporate buyout. Certain types of financial ‘runs’ are only produced when the bottom line is being examined carefully in buyout situations – corporate or otherwise.

Facts are undeniable. However, with our televised media rife with pseudo-reality shows, and a society transfixed by the fakery of stardom and fantasy – will actual day to day reality, even matter any longer? Once upon a time I wanted to join the ranks of those who investigate hard issues. My heart is with Judith Miller, and my hopes with the New York Times that they hold the line.

Frankly I cannot consider anyone male, worth much unless they have their integrity. And then along with that, I look for and hope for, bottle. As a culture we will not have a culture, if the integrity at the core of our government is gone. Men still run this world – so will the real men stand up and please, take it back.

Bought the Farm

Once upon a time there came a day, when a man’s land was no longer theirs – not really. You could buy it – at whatever exorbitant price was asked in downtown Steppford….but it wasn’t really yours any longer! The brown tinged tintype photo shows my great grandmother on the porch, of what was, the family farm in (yes) Kansas.

Sandra Day O’Connor stepped down from her judicial post today, and one wonders what kind of ‘comp’ she received in doing so. We now have what amounts to a “hat trick”…in terms of any possible fairness ever again having a voice in our court systems.

In Tijuana I woke the morning after the wedding, before I realized what had wakened me. It was a rooster crowing…in the middle of town! In a rather posh area of town too, and though it was a rather rude hour to wake when I hadn’t been in bed more than an hour or two, nonetheless I giggled as I lay there.

Will we ever have a thing to giggle about again? Personally I feel dazed and confused. How is everyone else doing with current events? Good thing I must now sell the farm anyhow, that’s my feeling.

Beat Generation, and beat-up

But naturally, I missed the latest address from his eminence! Good golly miss molly, whatabunchacrap! Do any of his constituents ever really “hear” what he has said? And has any of them attempted to parse his words into a cogent sentence? I’d say the man is parsimonious… Of need, he must be because he can’t string words together properly even when reading from a written speech!

So OK – all these ladies and gentlemen in his fan club with their various degrees from brand name colleges and universities – are listening? I cannot believe that they are because otherwise, each would have to admit that he makes NO sense! And the reason his wifey took over the podium that one evening weeks back with her crass and tasteless remarks (written naturally by the PR and marketing people in the background for the event), is that he needs to be pulled off the podium, as often as possible.

And humanized. That is what we are talking about. I have been listening to some educated folks who are now attempting to bring the issue of “framing” into the public forum and make people aware of what is being done by the neocons through the use of descriptors ...and carefully chosen wording and labeling.

What a black day it is when a plurality can listen to the endless droning on of such drivel and not realize the bank is being robbed in the background, to the beat of Love to Love You Baby…..oooo. We are living in a time where the powers that be are the most vacuous band of miscreants and thieves ever to steal the henhouse. If I had all the money of a Kenneth Lay or any of the hoards of other corporate criminals, I might feel some satisfaction knowing my thefts came about as a result of an artfully crafted act of larceny.

Nope. And nope is about as big a word as many of the people in this group can manage to pronounce. What an insult to the people in this country. Please, I will not become a vassal to this homogeneous group of vermin.

A wing and, this time, a good chance?

Comfort of the shadows

Captain Davie's 3 am Dash

Davie’s retired! Well he was before I met him. That leads one to think of a totally relaxed fella, feet hooked over the runners on a bar stool, etc. Davie, however, Captain Davie, has a boat. That pretty much removes the “re” from “retired” – leaving tired. The royal yacht this past season, did not disappoint too, needing all the usual, plus - a major engine overhaul.
Who, but a blueblooded Scotsman, would manage yearly forays into all things mechanical – and yet, maintain their humor. So wrench in one hand, checkbook in the other, Davie once again – fixed the bleepin barge!
Ah, clear sailing again. Returning to home base from their “local”, Davie and Ruth had a much earned evening with friends, closed up the pub, and retired for the night. That word, retired again! A typical Scottish wind, was working itself up for the pleasure of all concerned.
In the wee small hours of the morning, there arose the rude angry ring of the phone. Oh nuts – the boat! Gale-force winds had broken the boat, free of the dock!
Little in life matches the kindness of strangers at times. Another couple had made that phone call, and Ruth commented that even with four adults…there were moments none of them had both feet grounded! So, does this blustering break for freedom – at a rude hour – exempt Davie from more summer yacht races? His cousin here hopes so. Only smooth sailing ahead for my much loved family.

Bored in Belfast

OK! It’s a dogs’ life. Don’t tell me about it – I know it. Todd Dahlrymple here….of Edinburgh. Last September my manager told me that we were going to Belfast. Not that I knew, or really cared, where that was. My daughter Katie came along (company mostly)….Katie is AKA ‘a bird in hand, is worth two in the bush.'

Ruth was waiting for a friend to arrive from the States…she wanted to go! to the “show” in Belfast. Another – heaven help me – case of heavens knows? why! Finally after the usual hemming, hawing and my graceful entries and exits from the bleepin cage in the Benz (well a little comfort anyhow)… I am a Welshman after all

We set off. A rather uneventful trip over…good nap time, a few treats, occasional lovely remarks from admirers. And a nice temperate days weather in Belfast. However no one told me, my ‘class’ was going to be called, nearly last!!! After about 3/4 of a day ‘chillin’ in the stall area off to the side – you “do!!” start to get the idea. Walkies?? Hello – is anyone out there? Where is my manager!

OOO….there she is, finally. Lalala…she and her friend walk up – as if – Katie & I…..weren’t there….long past discussing the day at that point! Good lord woman, I could at least go for a tinkle, or something? And a snack that hasn’t been boiling under the car boot for hours? I’ve been told I have a very expressive face – hmn, apparently I ain’t getting the message through!

Well, hours and hours later, and small mentions in the show…I am without a chance to really voice my disdain…piled back into the wagon, for a return to Scotland. oooeee I am all in, and also a wee bit sleepyish…not to mention hoping for a quick return.

Nope!!!! There’s a delay at the ferry!!! Bloody hell. We sit at the dock: well it seemed like forever. Who cares if my adoring public stops by the car and taps…at my window! Toddy! Beautiful Toddy! tap tap
C R A P! Get me home!! We spent nearly double the time of the trip over – getting back.

Bored in Belfast. Harumph. I don’t care about ribbons. Even all the pattin and scratchin…
seems to blur. Turn me loose on the beach, wind in my ears. Leave a poor dug alone.

OK! Where is it? A trip to Ayr Theatre

…a Processional

Ayr, Scotland has a lovely theatre in the center of town. Ancient but well tended, I attended a concert there with friend Ruth. Balconied and with posh boxes hanging on ornate side walls, it was filled to capacity for the “Eagles” cover band concert.
It’s rudimentarily unfair, that women are the brunt of frequent jokes about the need to find the public toilet! Naturally during break time in the concert, Ruth and I needed to access the facilities. Goes without saying.
With an internal structure matching any well-executed maze, Ruth and I set out to find the toilet…following signs saying “toilet”, which seemed the thing to do. The first toilet, was “Men’s” naturally…so we backtracked and looked in another hallway – to the left.
After only one retracing of steps, we had collected another couple of women on the same quest! We completed one circuit of that level of the building under review, and decided to go “up” a level. Doing so, we collected a few more ‘lost souls’…with what could be construed, as ‘pinched expressions’.
Up this corridor, and down that….each “Toilet” doorway we did manage to find, was rudely marked “Men’s” (or with that annoying symbol…for men, affixed). When you’ve made two complete circuits unsuccessfully, you start to doubt your memory – so we circled “that” floor again.
With a giggling and chattering procession of about ten women, we eventually did reach nirvana and use the facilities. Were I to return to the Ayr theatre, I doubt I could find the toilet again: I’d certainly need to request directions to the toilet before taking my seat. I don’t remember how we found the toilet.
“You can’t get there from here…” remains the clarion call in life.

Ozone Layers

Pivotal moments in my life include hearing news of the JF Kennedy assassination piped over my HS PA system, and "living" an afternoon of teachers and students alike bumping into one another in hallways, crying. Then we come to the sunny morning I heard commentators screaming from some televised event; and as I spun on one heel and ran to a TV, reaching that screen in time to see the second tower crash on September 11.
Back in 1973, I sat over dinner with several friends in a popular Princeton night spot, when the PA system in the club (I have come to dread them)....suddenly broadcast live, Nixon's famous resignation speech. That year and into the next, recovering from near fatal surgery, I sat transfixed watching the Watergate Hearings....wondering if ethics and integrity would ever become the "standard" in life.
With world affairs in such a total state of collapse of ethical behavior, is that proverbial "light at the end of the tunnel".....a bright future for all of us - or an oncoming train. When individuals like the infamous "deep throat" of Watergate fame, reveal their identities at a moment close to their own death - are publicized as potentially having been "traitors", the question is:
Where do we go from here. How do we recover our humanity, our ethics. Why is it that the power brokers in this world do not see that war is killing, and at least equal to the "dictator's" genocide they claim justified their own, call to war. And why do those same men not see that without the middle and lower classes in their own nations, their own kingdoms cannot survive.
Not as fleet of foot at this stage of my life, I am questioning my own ability to step out of the path of that light at the end of the tunnel. If we cannot walk away from the ideologs and neocons and fantasy worlds created by carefully crafted marketing schemes, how can we recover the truth.
Without missing a step however, I am moving forward the best I can with a rattling collection of injured joints and my fractured ideals - into the ozone.