Here is the obituary of trying: millions cascaded the streets swinging signs of hope. The skies were dreary but there was love and unity everywhere.
\n“america first” is what we are told we will become. When once we were so remarkably blessed because we always wanted to help other people. what is so wrong with reaching out? accepting? loving? This is difficult to do in an ego generated dog eat dog world- to be generous or even thoughtful but for two centuries we did that.<\/p>\n
My youngest son once shocked me and cried out from his college campus podium:
\n\u201cThere is no such thing as karma\u201d and yet now I, 56 years removed from being a helpless infant, have witnessed more karma in one lifetime to last three lifetimes.
\nmy point is this: when you help other people, good things will always come back to you. when you turn your back on them, you better keep a close eye on the karma waiting for you just around the next ( or 478th) corner ahead.<\/p>\n
Frequent Improvisation<\/strong> To Write Is To Leave This World<\/strong> Table for Two<\/strong> Here is the obituary of trying: millions cascaded the streets swinging signs of hope. The skies were dreary but there was love and unity everywhere. “america first” is what we are told we will become. When once we were so … Continue reading
\nthe internet is the great masterpiece of civilization. it is the great karma of technology that has come to bite us all in the ass. it has alienated us while giving us the illusion that we are closer together.
\nwhat is it you fear?
\nwhile once I was a little boy crawling on a gold shag carpet lost in imagination. Leggos and blocks. My living room was safe. My house was heated from the cold. My town was never being invaded or bombed by another country. The president insured me on TV that we are the \u201cmost powerful country in the world\u201d we have the biggest everything especially army. my friends were safe, the sky was blue with big puffy white clouds most of the time. my school bus never got hit by a train when we crossed over the rail road tracks by the FMC factory, our family always got City Line pizza on Friday nights.
\nthen one day I was watching the huge wooden cabinet television in the rec room. It was a special about how the soviets have built submarines capable of launching nuclear tipped missiles. that moment (most) my innocence was lost. I thought the cold war back then was about snow plows but boy was I wrong
\nadvice is given to be ignored but here’s mine: never take anything for what it is given to be.<\/p>\n
\nthe more technologically advanced we get the less we want to do.
\nDiscarded technologies: watches, newspapers, hand written letters, telephones hanging up on your kitchen wall, typewriters, movie projectors, needle and thread, 8 track tapes. Although I could make a case for vinyl records, watches and newspapers.
\nI am happy that we have become aware of the need to get back to nature. Gluten free, organic, no hormones, grass fed, cage free. I see men with baby carriages. I see more women in pant suits driving $40,000 SUV\u2019s. There are no bad ideas.
\nYet I continue to struggle with my identity.
\nI am-?
\n-clever?
\n-leery?
\n-a cracker mother fucker?
\n-a good father?
\n-LMAO?
\n-complicated?
\n-cool?
\n-full of shit?<\/p>\n
\nHere on the verge of the fall of the American Empire three years removed from the Handshake School, still deep in debt, I did some number crunching for my retirement and came up with this: homelessness. Lets make a deal. If I can design and build my own robot before my resume becomes ancient yellow and crusty then I\u2019ll gift wrap my future for you. I\u2019ll be your janitor, butler and boner for the rest of your art saturated days on this melting planet.
\nThis has gone on long enough and so I end it with my deepest darkest secret: I write messages of hope on slips of paper and hide them in books at the Barnes & Noble.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"