CUBBY-WUBBY-WOOM-BROOM, DISINTEGRATED The enduring aspect of several myths of yore leave many with no recourse but to ponder whatever grain, or seed, or persistent subliminal communal consciousness perhaps, to have made some of them so prevalent. Take stories or legends … Continue reading
SKORONSKY ESCAPES THE ICE SPRITES Let’s assume that eventually we will prove the existence of entities (life forms), which inhabit dimensions adjoining and overlapping our own. Would it then be such a stretch to encounter entities from dimensions adjoining that? … Continue reading
London Schertzer photo Bweezee is snatched. Not so much snatched as arising of his own accord – opening his heart (so to speak) to that doing the snatching. The law of Gravity tells us that the earth’s gravitational attraction for … Continue reading
well … like 8!
yes, where i live is somewhat ‘in tune’ and aligned with what this season should be like for the latitude. cold and snowy. easy to see it as bleak.
Running: i’ve been joking that the every-other-daily jorg is when i feel the best i’ll feel all day. i have a direct hand on the throttle administering the pain, instead of being the passive (and unwitting?) recipient of it.
Hockey: Ricardo Cabeza said that his soon-to-be five year old granddaughter has started to ask religious and ‘god’ questions. i joked that my ‘church’ has not had a meeting for a month, and there is a delay of another week. my team’s next game is not for another week-and-a-half. yes, the church of the stick & puck.
my wife (!) would like to play. perhaps i’ll surprize her and get eqpt / proper skates (she really likes her LLBean quasi-figure skates, which would not be allowed in the hockey league! as they have toe picks. after a while, there might be women-only leagues… as the women who do play are mostly in “my” league — the novice league. and… my son should play! he would be really good. in a different lifetime, if we had lived in minnesota or north dakota, or … he probably would have played. little opportunity living “in the desert” as we do. until recently.
The roons: with the kids long-time gone, the cats / dogs / horses / turtles / fish / and tortoise are the kids. some days (usually NOT when it’s icy and cold) i feel like a sort of gardener, the custodian of the adjoining piece of paradise. yeah, right. oh well, this part of the creation, the continuity, the infinitum, the … nexus of the time/space/ continuum in which i inhabit.
Betty is visiting her mom in W. Palm Beach for about a week yet. I had planned to do what is perhaps my most therapeutic art work — work on the scrapbook. haven’t yet. maybe tonight. i did, however, transform a couple of my more-or-less completed short stories into ‘small book’ form, print some out, and mail them to perhaps a dozen unlucky recipients.
Food and beer: ricardo and i visited the Nepalese last night. we are fairly regular customers there — much more so than any other place.
Mr. Cabeza says he is a bit depressed, his most recent candidate for significant other just up and dumped him. He stays busy, what with a jazz band, being bingo caller, comrades-in-arms (or whatever type of comrades) to do stuff with, and the never-ending drama of his families lives. Interestingly, he is on good terms with his ex-son-in-law. The very same ex-nephew-in-law Betty and I go golfing with.
I suggested to him that I show up at bingo, and win all or most the jackpots. “What?! Again!? This guy wins again!” — and we split the proceeds afterwards. Yeah, in a dark alley with dirty used envelopes.
He wouldn’t go along. So, I still have to either buy the winning lottery ticket and/or start being real nice to rich senior (more ‘senior’ than I) citizens…
Hanukkah, Islam, and: i think X-ukkah (think X-mas) has passed this year. betty still wants a new more modern teevee (will it be toooo technical for us? it’s been YEARS since we knew how to program the VCR. we’ve gotten used to the flashing “12:00″ all the time. THAT used to bother us, a few years back.) and a couch. my son gave me a GOOD bottle of scotch and some fine cigars. that’s fine –> stuff i can ‘use’ NOW and soon. no more stuff to eventually end up in the attic or garage or bequeath to the landfill eventually.
wha gwan in muzik: at least Señor Cabeza plays, is current. As is my bro-in-law. But me? definitely on the down slope of my not-quite mediocre career. maybe i’ll have my annual two daze “in the sun” horrifying the crowd at an athletic event i have been announcer for in early may.
The always impending end of time: seems like it. it’s never far away. but of course, any ‘end’ is a beginning.
Orgasms, flatulence, drooling — no shortage of the flatsch and drools. i include ‘orgasmz’ due to the infamous line from the movie “adventures of baron von munchausen.”
Lookin’ forward to stuff –> it’s always good to look forward, to eagerly anticipate, to aspire. i should be IN the moment more, rather than suffer through the “monday” (mundaneness) of any schedule. schedules? suck! but perhaps the open secret is to accept the yoke of a schedule, the necessary stuff, with the same open-ended/open-minded attitude one might have if the day were long with no appointments. heh.
i decided to start another of my insipid failed uninspiring essays. but this one is intended to have more than just a minute touch of therapy. heh.
it’s all part of the big adventure — but most the time for me it’s hidden behind the curtains. ah, to know it all as i did when i was 20 or 21 or so. what i KNEW then was not “facts” but the certainty that it was all connected. had a positive ‘out’. we’d prevail. the dude abides.
the peak of the sun’s eventual disappearance possibility (wint-solstice) has passed, the sine wave of the annual solar exposure curve definitely is waxing. sometimes i’m axually off to werk before the sun comes up, though.
darn work. that too, has waxened and waned, but the waning continues. a couple years ago the semi-retired was ongoing, but the leash has shortened.
i used to feel i had some “ownership” over my work-realm, but THAT has evaporated. i go through the motions. every once in a while i consider just up and giving the notice. like back in 1998. up and quit. i segued into the present employment three months later. doubt if THAT would again …
Running: part of the ritual. with more time, or volition, and/or wise time-management (possibly my character never will again allow that. ingrained habituals moan and groan and die with diffyoccultly.
Hockey: it’s started again. the one night per week of the mixture of terror, self-loathing ’cause it’s MY FAULT we’re already at the league cellar (if i stopped ALL shots, we’d win, right? — it would help if the rest of the team scored more, AND didn’t allow the other team so many one-on-one’s with the goalie. game before last there were a handful of two-on-one’s, and one three-on-one!)
The roons: we are in a shedding mode, rather than acquisition.
Islam, and: jewishness. Xtianity. a repeat of last bloRg: that it’s all part of the big adventure, the biggest part of the adventure. the mis-adventure. ah, to KNOW IT ALL as i did when i was 20 or 21 or so. what i KNEW then was not “facts” but the certainty that it was all connected. had a positive ‘out’. we’d prevail. the dude abides.
material boy and gurl: we did acquire the “new more modern teevee (will it be toooo technical for us? the couch is on hold for now. the new thingy in the house seems to have taken care of the 3 holidaze i got betty nada: anniversary, x-ukkah, and her recent birthday.
had a dream two or three nites ago which was “back” in / at Sierra Moreno. i mulled over how to write it down, perhaps write a novelette of the mis-adventure captured therein. there i was, except (as usual) i wasn’t “i” — running a sort of minerals-exploration crew. maybe we were looking for treasure. i think it was something else. el dorado …
we were in a familiar town — i’ve dreamt of it before. similar terrain to near here — semi-arid, low hills gradually giving rise to higher ones, with perhaps the high peaks in the distance. scrubby pines, arroyos. the town was not remarkable — nothing really note-worthy, mostly wood-frame older buildings. there was a congested ‘downtown’ — or central area with people milling about.
i drove off with a few others in a SUV / 4-wheel-drive. it seemed more ‘work-related’ than a recreational trip. i was trying to follow a route, or path, but it wasn’t long before the terrain was impassable to the vehicle. i was addressing the other workers, suggesting we deviate off into three groups to try to achieve the objective. even in the dream, the ‘objective’ was somewhat vague.
when i awoke, i briefly considered the story line. WHAT were we looking for? in keeping with the theme of Sierra Moreno, it might HAVE to be something fantastic, something not of the present, the real world. a nexus of force and energy coincident with the periodic emergence of some extra-dimensional serpent-force line?
i read one of the (zelasny?) ‘chronicles of amber’ series — wherein the “real world” — called Amber, is at the core of many ‘shadow’ worlds, one of which is the “earth” we know and love. or whatever it is we’re doing in and with it.
the big dog discorporated from the physical manifestation late last week. i buried him out north in the desert, up near a big mesa at the edge of the bookcliffs. we’d also ‘lost’ a fish earlier in the week. i thought back to the veritable pantheon of departed family-mates. two horses, a donkey, perhaps a dozen or two cats, the two german shepherds, two turtles (and two ran away), more fish. part of the swarm, the sheath of consciousness enveloping the planet. see comment on Amber, Chronicles of, previous paragraph.
there would be other layers. of what, we can only conjecture. oh, speak up now: YOU know some of those layers, what they’re “made of.” a maelstrom of crushed dreams and frustrations? a cloud of turbulent swirling terrorist death threats? and there’s gotta be not-so-scary stuff — the big puffy cumulous happy thought sphere?
anyhow, there is, contiguous with the planet, the accompanying life force. i don’t know, but sometimes i think it is all ONE, just seemingly separated into the illusion of separateness. but it may be billions and billions of discrete units — when viewed “from a distance” appears to be one big mass.
that is what i thought of when considering the recently departed. all the departed. the lives to come. hopefully there’ll be a lot to come.
do the life forces migrate / transbulbulate to other planets?
in the hot tub last night i was thinkin’ of … oh, never mind. but i was pondering the inevitable. oh, what to do, what to do … (when (and not “if”) it comes).
moovin’ along on the depression train: i can’t retire yet, well, i can retire, but i/we can’t afford to, yet.
i wanna ‘close’ on a seeming positive note, but heck, maybe this IS positive …
Doggzeneye ventured up past the (“Indiana Betunada & the Wombat CowSkull Shrine”), or whatever it is. We ventured further/furthur than weave ever weaved, uh, wander/endured before. I imbibed in a substance which (so I think) facilitates removal of filters which … Continue reading
o, el arti/super? ficial re-encarnacìon de Tiny Elvis: este es uno (uno mas) de mini-relato cual tiene nada que hacer con nada. Pero, por lo general, escribo varias cosas con fotos cual, otra vez, tienen nada que hacer con nada. ¿Claro? ♪ … Continue reading
Cornered, on the ropes, he counter-punches …
It was the opposing attorney’s turn to question me. I had been prepped by our attorney, run through mock interrogation sessions, and told what to expect. Yes, I knew the “other side” had to entrap and confuse me, shake what little confidence I had, make me look stupid.
(Most the time that last bit is all too easy, any time, anywhere.)
I was a witness for the prosecution. I was THE witness, come to think about it. My employer, a regulatory agency overseeing energy development and production, had taken the last step to get a company to comply by the rules. Go before the judge. I had drafted the violation documents and inadvertently left some things out.
“When did you decide your initial violation notices were pre-mature?” she asked. The attorney for the defendant was a rather attractive young woman of Japanese ancestry. I tried not to get too distracted. This wasn’t easy, complicated by our attorney, also young — who could have played the part of an Elven woman in the Lord of the Rings movies — tall, blond hair, green eyes.
“Early in August, I think.” I wasn’t sure. There were other distractions. I couldn’t remember exactly what I did when. Besides, I had other work to do. One job was like the proverbial herding of cats — getting a reclamation project ready to begin the actual field-work. Usually the field-work is easier than the before- and after-paperwork. Not this time. So I attended to this legal matter sporadically.
She announced to the court and to me that she was bringing out Exhibit “G”.
“Do you recall this correspondence?” I squinted at the print-out of an email clearly dated July 29. I had sent this to others I worked with, stating that it had come to my attention that the previously-issued violation notices could have waited a few days. I didn’t like where this was heading. I admitted that I was the author of that correspondence, and the date was correct.
“If you weren’t sure … ” she began. The following statement and the next three or so continued along the thread of my uncertainty, allusions to my inability to rationally determine anything …
She swept the room with the gaze of being in control. During my pre-courtroom briefings, I was coached in the various aspects of behavior in the witness chair. It was recommended that I focus primarily on our attorney, but periodically give a quick glance across all the Commissioners, stopping at the Commission Chairman for a not-too-brief visual fix.
This wasn’t what you would call a ‘regular’ court-room. In the state in which I reside, the Commission governing matters involving oil-and-gas development is not only the regulatory agency, it is also the body before which arbitration involving legal matters pertaining to oil/gas matters is decided. So during the initial phase of my testimony and examination, I glanced periodically not only at the Chairman, but tried to gaze with a modicum of self-confidence at the other Commissioners. That was up until a few minutes ago.
I did not look at anyone during my downward spiral …
My recollection of this experience is, as it probably is for most endeavors of my life, spotty. Sometimes I think I recall significant events with a fair degree of clarity. This isn’t always the case.
‘My time in the witness chair’ I remember in three phases. The first part was when Chalori, the state’s assistant Attorney General, asked me the questions. The second and third parts were while being questioned by Eydie, attorney for the defense. At first this was straight-forward and on the level. “What college degree(s) do you have?”
“Bachelor of Physics, from Colorado State University.” (This is an ever-so-slight exaggeration. Actually, my degree was in ‘watered-down physics’ — Physical Science, physics concentration.)
“Do you have any professional certifications?”
Again I answered quickly and with authority: “Certificate of Engineering Fundamentals, issued by the state of Colorado.” (Sounds somewhat impressive, doesn’t it? This too is ‘watered-down’ — a not-quite-real Professional Engineering registration.)
Level and straight-forward, until my recollection of dates was called into question. The cross-examination continued with the feeling of falling, spiraling into possible total collapse. Then
The possibility of spirit mediumship intervenes …
Yes, there was a dizzying sensation of me being swept up (or down) in the spiral of impending doom. Then, I don’t know what happened.
Sometimes I consider that the state of “spirit mediumship” might be validated. Heck, all too often I’ve experienced the sensation that my rational and reasoning self was inexplicably absent, and some sub-human id-centered being from some dimension beyond what we ordinarily perceive has taken over my body. Wouldn’t it be convenient for me to argue that it wasn’t me who drunkenly did this or that? Utters statements which are beyond stupid? Fell off the bicycle and scraped myself massively trying some impossible trick? No, it wasn’t ME, your honor, who did that.
On rare occasions the spirit which takes over is smarter than I ordinarily am. I don’t remember exactly what was asked, only that I straightened up, looked her in the eye, and gave an answer which caught her off-guard. It was like I had smacked her on the jaw. She recovered, asked another question and my answer was like another punch, this time knocking her off-balance. She looked around the room, briefly, appearing a little confused. She asked two or three questions more while I allowed whatever extra-dimensional entity to continue to exert its influence upon and through me. She announced to the Commission that she was done with this witness.
Like I said: I don’t know WHAT came over me, but the timing was optimal. Just prior to that I was mulling over my future with the Commission. Should I resign now or wait to get fired? As I walked back to an empty chair in the court room I passed one of the Department Managers. I muttered “should I quit now before I’m laid off?”
“Nah … I think we’ll keep you on a little longer,” he answered. The defendant side brought out their witnesses, after which each side presented its closing arguments. The Commission deliberated, and even though there was some sympathy for the recalcitrant oil-and-gas operator, the decision to administer a fine for non-compliance was relatively quick and unanimous. A few other Managers congratulated me, including the Deputy Director, who commented that he especially liked the part where I made the other attorney “look angry.” My own Department Manager took me across the street where he bought each of us a Philly Cheese-steak sub for take-out.
On our way back to the Commission offices we passed the ‘other side’ standing outside the building. The President of the company walked toward us, shook my hand. (We had had a few phone conversations during the attempts to resolve issues before having to “go to court.” Usually these talks were benign and friendly. )
Eydie glared at me, eyes narrowed, face grim.
The look was one in which I interpreted she wanted to get me alone, somewhere, so she could torture me.
Betty and I, and the dawgz, are driving to Nucla (Colorawdough) in early February. This particular February was like some sort of convoluted Indian summer, in that this was Neolithic or Neanderthal or Anasazi, yeah, that’s it, Anasazi Spring, a blast from definitely … Continue reading
My parents never sent me to —
DONKAROONY DRAGGAROONY (An Embarrassing Way To Die) Picture yourself being dragged down a gravel road by a galloping jack-ass. Dragged by a rope wrapped around your ankle — the other end of which is attached to the halter on the … Continue reading