Category Archives: inspiration

Spring Break Colored Blue

This week has been Spring Break for our little family.  But as Spring Breaks go, this one leaves a lot to be desired.  Rain.  Thunderstorms and tornadoes did damage to the north of us in The Colony and Frisco, Texas.  More rain.  Gray skies, flood warnings, tornado watches… the sun is supposed to come out on Sunday, the last day of Spring Break.  I want a do-over.

But it is all about the focus.  We have done some house cleaning.  My son took the water-damaged carpet out of his bedroom with a carpet knife and discovered an old linoleum floor under it, complete with a sincerely ugly 1960’s style pattern.  And my daughter and I baked cookies.

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The bedroom with its mustard yellow linoleum with brown snowflakes in the pattern.

The cookies were Halloween candy-corn cookies bought for a sale price at Aldi’s in an after-Christmas sale.  (I think I paid less than a dollar for them.)  We mixed the two colors of dough up with butter and tried to make cookies with a swirl design as described on the box.  It didn’t work.  We made spectacular splashes of red and yellow all over the cookies.  The cookies looked radioactive as they baked.  No wonder they were cheap.

But they were delicious.  Probably more because we made them together and laughed about the goofy outcomes.  I ate my two cookies (the limit reasonably suited to proper blood sugar levels) with a tall glass of Diet Coke and milk.

So, Spring Break has been a bit of a bummer.  But misfortune does not rule our lives unless we let it.  Sometimes you have to simply reject the glooms and just be happy.

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Filed under humor, inspiration, philosophy, photo paffoonies

Decompression

I got the word that my mother’s surgery went smoothly and she is fine.  Hopefully she will be out of the hospital soon.  I can breathe again.  There are numerous moments in life that make a person’s heart quicken and the “fight-or-flight” security program in the brain kicks in, making us breathe harder… making us sweat…   We wait endlessly for the threatening conditions to pass, and minutes feel like hours.

11062801_558004507676172_3499292867024087071_nAlan Watts was a genius who took Eastern philosophies and meditation and brought them to Western culture in a way that offers light and hope and freedom from fear.  I discovered him on YouTube and learned that even though he is dead, his thinking reaches out to me and gives me comfort in my inevitable face-off with Death.  Do you know Death?  He was that funny. yet disturbing character in some of Terry Pratchett’s funniest Discworld novels… the one that talks in ALL CAPITAL LETTERS because the weight of his words are so serious.  That particular face-off in the Hockey Game of Life is one that sooner or later I am bound to lose.  Everybody loses that one sometime… but only once.  After all, as hockey players go, Death is a superior center.

I think that if I can get one message across to other people before I lose that face-off and the hockey game ends, it needs to be this, “All people are the same.  No matter what color, what sex, what belief system… they all have equal worth.  I am a part of them, and they are a part of me.  As Alan Watts says, I am connected to everything.”

Alandiel

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Baseball Season

Every Spring is a new beginning, a new hope, a new chance to win the pennant.

DSCN5273When the baseball season starts fresh each year, it renews me, makes feel like I have another chance to make things happen and conquer the world again.  It makes me feel alive again… even now when I am old and retired and in constant pain.

People say to me, “Baseball is boring and slow and not as great a game as…” and then they try to tell me stuff about football and soccer and NBA basketball.  I’m not buying it, even when it is my eldest son selling it.

Baseball became my sport when I was a child in the 1960’s.  Great Grandpa Raymond was a frail and ancient man then, too elderly to share much of anything with me as I was young and full of energy.  But on Sunday afternoons in Spring and Summer, we listened to the Minnesota Twins play baseball on the radio.  I heard Harmon Killebrew hit homers and Tony Oliva make game-winning hits.  I learned that the game was about numbers and strategy… a team game, yet filled with moments of man versus man, star of one team facing off against the star of another, skill versus skill, willpower versus willpower.  I learned that baseball was a fundamental metaphor for how we live our lives.

I remember when Bob Gibson was the greatest pitcher in baseball, and he played an entire career with my favorite team, the St. Louis Cardinals.  I remember Lou Brock setting the record for stealing bases in a single season, a monumental accomplishment.  I actually saw Lou Brock steal a base in a game against the Houston Astros, though not in the record-setting year.  I was there in person.  I listened to Bob Gibson’s no hitter of the Pittsburgh Pirates on the radio, listening in a campground in St. Louis while the Cardinals actually played in Pittsburgh.  I didn’t get to see Stan Musial play ball.  He retired before I first became aware of the game.  But he was on TV quite a lot on game day, and I hung on every word.

970012_598081996889896_1749856650_n 10407396_841407729243846_8153033581544611964_n 252384_10151150805491840_424979047_nBaseball has gotten me through some very rough times in my life.  I used to play ball, baseball and softball.  I was a center fielder for our 4-H team and made some game-saving catches in the field, hit a home run once, and once saved a game for our side when I threw out a runner at home plate from center field.  And I have religiously followed the Cardinals year after year.  In 2011, when health problems and family problems and depression threatened to destroy me… the Cardinals won the World Series in seven hard-fought games.  When you reach a moment of crisis, with the game on the line, you can reach deep inside for that old baseball player magic… tell yourself, “I will not lose this day!” and find the power within you to make that throw, get that hit, catch that long fly ball…

Baseball is a connection to family and friends… teammates… everyone who has ever shared the love of the game.  If you don’t win it all this time… there’s always next Spring.  God, I love baseball.

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Time Marches On

new kid

My life is rather fragile at this point.  I have recently been ill with a virus.  For me, as a COPD sufferer, that can be fatal.  My lungs will easily clog and become a serious case of pneumonia.  A virus like that will probably be the death of me.  I don’t have the money it takes to go to the emergency room.  Medical costs have perched my finances over the edge of the chasm of bankruptcy.   Caught on a couple of tree roots, my ability to pay for anything dangles over the abyss.  The next emergency will be my last… a conscious decision.  Man, my blog is a real hoot so far, huh?

But as cold and rainy weather moves in… I am at peace.  I have been at war all my life long.   I have fought the war against ignorance by being a school teacher.  I have fought to make a life for my family, and though financial security is not a part of that, I can testify that my three kids are creative and wonderful people that will survive and make me proud.   And my written work, novels and this very blog, are complete enough to secure my legacy of ideas, beliefs, and wisdom to be passed on.

Now, I know that this all sounds like a depressed person saying goodbye.  In some ways that is what it is.  But it is not something to be worried over.  I am not depressed.  I am on medication to prevent debilitating depression.  I have helped members of my family overcome depression.  I am a warrior, and I know how to strike back against the darkness.  I will not take my own life.  I am, in fact, very good at survival.  Thirty-two years ago I beat malignant melanoma.  I have six incurable diseases that I have successfully juggled and dealt with for years.  There is no humiliating thing or gruesome test that doctors haven’t either inflicted upon me or allowed me to narrowly avoid.  I may continue to struggle on for many years.  If I am saying goodbye in this post, it is only a just-in-case goodbye.  It is really more of a statement that I believe I have achieved what a person needs to achieve in life to be successful.  I have completed a quest.  When I was a gawky doofus of an Iowegian teenager, I made a vow to be a wizard.  I wanted to learn and share wisdom.  I believe I have done so.  I am wise enough to know that no man lives forever, and with all the factors arrayed against me, I know what comes next.  So, I apologize for no humor in this post.  But the Toy Soldier Paffooney in this post inspires me.  The forced march continues… and it will not end until the soldiers can no longer put one more foot forward.

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