Forward Progress

Wicked Dreams

2012-02-12T11:00:00.000-08:00

I just got back from a Caribbean cruise. I'm a gold-dredger by profession now. There have been some talks with some people about diamond mining expeditions, lately...

So, I'm dreaming 2 nights ago. And in the dream, which takes place on Nome river, (which is located in Africa in my dream)(and its warm), Scott Foster and I are on our way back from a diamond prospecting trip. On our last day, I found a bunch but we were being chased by something (you know how dreams are. I don't know what the thing was, but we were being chased by it), and so we're booking it down the river- but then we see customs officials signaling to us to come to them on shore. Well, I've got a fat baggy full of diamonds, and I don't want to share. But, lo and behold, I see this boat coming toward me, and this girl Brooke who I met on the cruise, leans way over, and I lean way over, and as our boats pass, I pass her the baggy of diamonds- while the customs officials are busy with Scott's distraction at the front of the boat.

I woke up, and it seriously took me 10 minutes to process and get over the urge to call Brooke about the diamonds. Wicked dreams. I'll get my diamonds.

Cosmic Occurances

2010-08-11T13:34:00.000-07:00

Last night, I found myself in the bathroom at my office at 1130pm superglueing my eyebrow.

Let me start at the very beginning of the story.

It actually starts when I was 6 years old. My brother and I were playing down by our pond. He found a coffee can in the pond, pulled it out of the pond on the end of a stick, then flung it over on my side for further inspection. Except, it was flung (accidentally?!?) at me, and hit me on the head. For those of you who have noticed a scar that’s like a gansta, shaved-in part on my hair-line, now you know. We went to the doctor, and instead of putting in actual stitches, they super-glued hair from each side of the cut to the opposite side, leaving a glob of glue. And leaving a shaved spot when it finally grew out and we cut the glob.

Fast forward to age 27. I’m warming up for jui-jitsu practice. My buddy Nate got me in a head-lock/choke thing, and I quick-pushed out of it. Well, I pushed my face right into his knee- bloodying my nose, blackening my eye, and splitting my lip on the outside. After training (I ain’t no sally that quits cuz of a flesh wound...) I went home, shaved the hair around it, pushed the sides of the cut together, then put a bead of super-glue over the middle. Cheap stitch. My beard hair pushed it out a few days later. Re-shaved. Re-glued. Healed.

So, I’m now 31 years old. I was standing up, playing the guitar last night. After finishing, I started to take my guitar off. I pulled the strap over my shoulder, pulled the body of the guitar over my head, and in a cosmic combination of astrophysics, gravitational pull and very bad karma from something I’m analyzing like crazy to figure out, the strap got hung up on my shoulder and I pulled the body of the guitar into my eyebrow. The corner of the body of the guitar. Hard. I applied direct pressure, laughing and cursing my way to the bathroom to inspect the damage. A centimeter long cut, right on my eyebrow. Bless my heart.

Where’s the super-glue?

We don’t have any glue, of any type in the house. We don’t have any tape. No bandages. What kind of place doesn’t have tape, glue or bandages of any type? My kind of place, apparently. The stores are all closed. I have superglue at my office, I remember smartly.

I get on a four-wheeler, drive into town, walk into my office building, grab the super-glue out of my desk, and head for the b-room. And, I found myself in the bathroom at my office at 1130pm superglueing my eyebrow.

Recent lessons

2010-02-09T03:37:00.000-08:00

I've had some interesting things happening lately. Thought I'd write some fortune cookie lessons I've learned over the last few months.

1- (-10) is no longer intimidating.

2- You need to let your car warm-up, but not too much. $4.80 a gallon adds up quick.

3- While being sensitive to others is a requirement for any sort of good life, your number one priority is personal, internal peace within a moral framework. If you do that, everything else will work itself out.

4- There is no substitute for hard work.

5- There is no substitute for decision.

6- Beating the hell out of someone isn't manly, and apologizing when you are clearly in the wrong is not weakness.

7- Sometimes you apologize as much for yourself as you do for the other person.

8- If you want to live a full life, you really have to limit the time you spend on Facebook.

9- I love torturous physical activity. I love getting back on my feet when my body is screaming at me to stay down.

10- You make time for the things you love. However, sometimes you have a love-hate relationship with the things you make time for. See number 4 above.

11- You can't save other people, you can only create optimal situations and minimal distractions within which they can save themselves. And that, really, is the only way you can be a caring social worker and still sleep at night.

12- I wish there were a 36 hour day. Rockstar energy drinks can only hold you for so long...

Now I'm just making stuff up.

I'm getting tired of hearing myself talk and think. So, go and do.

Old thoughts revisited

2009-08-14T08:55:00.000-07:00

When I was working in Vernal, Utah, I had the opportunity to park a trailer on BLM land and live completely alone for 4 days a week. I haven't told many people about it simply because it wasn't something I was doing in an effort to get attention. It was so personal I wanted to experience it alone. Plus, how do you pepper that into normal conversations- "I work in a mine and live in a trailer for half the week." The questions don't stop. I'm over it now. This is something I wrote while doing that. Stream of consciousness that could be entertaining. Or boring as hell if you aren't into that. Here's the post.

-I don't know if there's anything I can contribute to the world of thought and literature that hasn't already been vocalized or documented. I don't know if any of my thoughts are original to anyone but me, and even in that case I think most of my thoughts are just like finishing someone else's sentence from something I've read or heard. The only thing I seem to know enough to give my life for is work and reading.

I'm living in a trailer for half the week where my nearest neighbor is 5 miles away; a real life, modern-day Thoreau. Except he was even more long-winded than I am, and he built his cabin. Whatever. I'm really just following in the footsteps of Chris McCandless, and Eustace Conway, and Henry Thoreau and probably a thousand other hippie-philosophers who had an itch that lead them to scratch it in the solitude of the wilderness.

And half the week I'm a landlord and home remodeler; trying to make sure color schemes and "feel" are all complimentary in an old house. I think its looks better than just putting lipstick on a pig, but maybe my realtor isn't being honest with me. Is capitalism okay for those of us who want the simple life? Even the simple life costs money. And usually the simpler things get, the more time they cost. And in the end, thats what all this is about. How to use my time. Franklin Covey has it right, it would seem.

Middle Children of history. Another borrowed phrase. But I believe the dialogue from Fight Club 100%. Ours is a spiritual war. In the information age, in all of our exponentially doubling wisdom, we are redefining and rethinking everything. And we're getting a lot of it wrong. And a lot right. Its a war of information. A war of words. Some people say there was a war in Heaven, and God and Satan fought. God won, but Satan has dominion here. I've thought about what that war must have been like. No one died physically. So, we have another parallel information war. A war where the only weapon was logic. And we have a similar situation here, except that logic isn't always truth, as we saw with O.J. Maybe O.J. needs a dose of the Walden Pond too. Or maybe he'd just stab the ducks.

I wanted to get away. Not start over. I like the life I've made for myself. I have good friends, relatively nice things, healthy food, great family relationships, no love interest- which is a void thats always present but I'm not going to start watching the Notebook everyday or anything. Starting over makes it sound like you screwed up somewhere. I didn't. I just had a longing to try something different. I've listened to too much Pink Floyd. Or maybe not enough.

But if 95% of people live, die, in various levels of social and economic mediocrity, why buy into a career? Why follow the model of debt accumulation, debt payment, with a 0 balance for 10 years at the end of your life when your knees need replacement and your bladder control is questionable? The underground hip-hop group Atmosphere calls this dilemma "from the cradle to the grave, from pampers to the depends." Another borrowed thought.

And just because its different doesn't mean its productive. Because we all have a stewardship to use the talents we have productively. Like it or not, we can't feel good outside of growth. And growth comes from doing hard things. Not just for the sake of doing a hard thing, but things that are hard for us personally. I had fear of confrontation. I still have fear of confrontation. I trained with cage-fighters for 4 years. I fought twice. I no longer fear physical confrontation, though I do get nervous every time I have a verbal confrontation. Information war. And I'm a sissy.

I'm not sure how it worked with Thoreau. But living this joint-custody life with myself, half-ferrel/half-domesticated, has been really interesting. When I go home now, I almost feel like I'm having an out-of-body experience. I hear the conversations, take part in them, but its like I'm going through the motions. The little nothings really are nothing to me. I can feel the stillness building. I don't know if other people notice it. I'm finally starting to just be because of my sojourn in the wilderness. Meaning from anonymity.

I'm getting to be comfortable with the idea of using an outdoor toilet; flushing with dirt. The Africans squat over a hole, even indoors. Their toilets are flush with the floor. In a hospital they had real toilets, and a sign inside that said, "don't stand on the toilet." Sitting on a toilet was as foreign to them as squatting is to us. I wondered how my dad would handle that sort of set-up with his fake knee. Maybe Africans don't get their parts replaced. Maybe life-span doesn't last long enough. Maybe activity keeps them healthy. I didn't see a McDonalds there. I'm sure there's positive correlation there between ability to squat and lack of McDonald's.

I haven't made time to do much exploring until today. I took my guitar, took off my shirt, and went to an outcropping of rocks right above my trailer. I got to the top, and it overlooks the entire Uintah basin. And I laughed a laugh I don't know if I've laughed ever. When I was a child, I think I would laugh for no reason other than some sense of happiness that had no understanding. I got tickled. I laughed. Big deal.

I've been to Africa now. I've read hundreds of books of human suffering. I've read and watched the news. People are dying everywhere.

The other day in Yoga, which to me is physical and relaxing all at once, I was thinking, "How dare I, enjoying myself while people are suffering." And I then asked myself, "what would they be doing if they were me?" And the answer hit me so powerfully, like a cricket mallet of truth across the butt. "They would be enjoying the reprieve as completely as they possibly could. They would be happy, and living and laughing. You do not dishonor struggle with laughter, you celebrate it for those who wish they could have things better."

I like to think that these eyes that look on the world are the eyes of an experienced man. A man who is not disillusioned about the nature of things, but is still happy to be alive. And when I looked out on that valley, I laughed a pure, guileless laugh. The laugh of a man who sees something beautiful and remarkable and awesome and is filled with an energy that is completely spiritual. Basking in the purity of nature.

Bears

2009-08-04T08:18:00.001-07:00

I'm a corporate reporter for a home security company called APX. I write internal news stories and have a 7am deadline every morning. So, I roll out of my cot at 5am, pull the pants on one leg at a time like any other human being- but then I write golden stories.

Anyway, I get on a quad to go to a place that has an internet connection. As I'm about to leave the beach, there's some kind of fuzzy, rumbling thing in front of me. My eyes focus, and I'm looking at a bear's hindquarters. Its brown.

He lumbers up a hill, and I keep driving around his way on the road. I'm new at this Alaska stuff, so I remember thinking to myself, "Uh, do you follow bears?" But he was running away from me, so, whatever, right?

He/she- (funny how I got sexist in my description of the bear. No guy wants to be scared of a girl, even if its a bear-girl. I have no idea if it was a girl or man-bear). He/she was about a quad and a half in length. When you're chasing a bear, you compare it to your own relative size. If you're bigger, you're okay. If not, well, proceed with caution. Moose, for instance, are not impressed by the size of a quad, as one of my friends up here got chased for 3 miles by a cow once.

I keep on chasing, though following would probably have been a better description of what I was doing. We were rolling through the boatyard now, and he/she ducked through two containers that I thought were physically impossible for him/her to fit through. I had to drive around them, and he/she was 75 yards off by the time I got around them.

The bear was heading across the Tundra back towards our camp, though probably 50 yards off. And he/she was really cooking now. I called one of the guys at the camp and told them, in a voice which retrospectively must have been giddy/excited/(and I'm ashamed to say) a little blubbery. "dude, there's a bear. Its running. Its going past the camp. Its, a bear." If it had been a 911 call, the operator would have said, "Um, sir, slow down. Fire, medical or police..."

In Alaska, however, you hear "bear", you grab your gun, which is what Scott did. I just wanted him to see it, but he didn't understand it was just a zoo experience. He got back on the phone and the bear was long gone. He thought the bear was at our camp. I just wanted him to see the fuzzy guy/gal.

Then I drove the quad to write my stories. Another day in Alaska. Surreal.

Alaska

2009-07-14T04:06:00.000-07:00

When I first started working in a mine in Eastern Utah, I loved the anonymity and the newness of it. I loved the masculinity of the work; the sheer physicality of it. I loved how dirty I got. I loved the necessity of a shower after work.

An opportunity came up to go to Alaska, dredging for gold. I was formally offered a position on a Tuesday. On Wednesday I accepted. Thursday, after work at the mine, 20 of us were laid off. Over the course of 2 months they laid off half their work force. Interesting how when one door opens, sometimes the door closing slams you in the butt.

Don't know what's with me and wild, open places. I wanted to go to Africa for that reason. I wanted to see stretches of land where I was the only person. I saw it. It was beautiful. I wanted to see Alaska for the same reason. But its only since I've lived here that I've realized what its all about.

Its a search for stillness. So, so very hard to find in the 'real' world.

My first week here, a good friend of mine, Bo Gardner, came to visit and we drove from Nome to Council. Council is a little outpost group of homes/cabins/shacks about 2 hours south-east of Nome. The drive follows the coast, then goes inland. I can't remember when I've felt more like Christmas than what I saw on that drive. It was like God had saved a special mural just for us, and 30 years into my life he was finally willing to share it with me. Lord, it was beautiful.

The greens and shades of greens inside of greens. The shacks. Even the evidence of man in the form of rusting machinery and discarded this and thats can't detract from it. All evidence of work and industry. Hard to begrudge the abandoned tools of a man's dreams.

We went fishing, and I hadn't fished since I was a kid. Felt bad for the suckers- never really caught anything anyway. But now, well, we needed the meat. I was fishing of necessity. Caught 4 grayling in exchange for 10 mosquito bites. The Lord giveth and taketh away.

Just like Africa, when you frame pictures in Alaska, it frames itself. Because of the 22 hour day, most of which have been overcast, the lighting has been perfect. Dusk is a great time for photography, but it usually is a small half-hour window. In Alaska, dusk lasts from 9pm-12am.

I came up here to dredge for gold. The process is simple and is applied to creeks, rivers, lakes and for us, the ocean. You vacuum up silt from the floor of the ocean, the sediment runs through a sluice box which sorts the gold from the sand/rock/nothing. Someone has to be on the end of the hose to direct the flow of sediment. Enter Ian Foster.

I now find myself in Nome, Alaska, living in a big WW II Army tent on the beach, diving in 50 degree water, running an 8 inch vacuum hose, 20 feet deep on the bottom of the ocean for a living. Its totally nutty. Working in the mine was sissy stuff.

Last time out I dove for 4 hours. At the end, I had to unclog a rock from our hose. When the pump turns off, it turns the hot water off too. We keep hot water constantly pumped to our suits... So, no hot water, I came up to the surface. Couldn't see where the rock was. Went back down the hose to visually inspect the hose with a flash-light. (it was 1am.) Couldn't see it. Came back up. Went back down to bang on a bend in the hose with a hammer. Came back up. Still clogged. Took a rope back down, tied it off at the nozzle. Come back up for good. I can see my breath.

I'd been in the water for 20 minutes. Shivering. Glorious. You can FEEL that. It isn't sitting at a computer moving stuff from one electronic box to another all day. You can feel the life in your body. And its beautiful. And miserable. Can't remember a time I've been more miserable since I got to the Denny's in New Mexico a few years back after a 5 hour motorcycle ride at night. I ordered 6 cups of hot water and just let my hands hold the cup to warm up. Took 6 cups before I could unbend my fingers from the motorcycle grip they were frozen in. Misery along those lines. Marvelous misery.

And the whole package deal, the job, the town, the people, the setting, and Alaska, I keep wondering when something really bad is going to happen. Can it really get as good as this? People leave the keys in their cars when they walk into the store here. People know each other here. They let you shower at their homes because you're living on a beach.

The dredging community is really connected here. All the men that do it are the loner types. Some have wives, but all feel compelled/pulled/drawn by the silent seduction of Alaska. She's a lover that seems to say, "keep pushing forward, there's something else if you dive longer or go over that hill or try that river. You may just find it. You just may." And they keep trying.

And I've seen gold on the bottom of the ocean. You vacuum through a layer of sand to 8 inches of rock, but there, on a layer of clay, 1 foot below the ocean floor, you can see little flecks of gold. An ounce of gold isn't that much. In flecks, it takes up about as much space as the first two knuckles of your pinkie. And I trade my time, energy, and put my life on the line in one of the harshest seas of the earth for this golden rock in such damned small amounts. Even the ironies of Alaska are monumental.

But its still. There's manly drama as you're likely to see anywhere men who know it all are trying to get something done; but without the nastiness of women, man problems are so easy and innocent.

"Swear word, that guy is an idiot isn't he?" "Swear word, ya. I sure know better than him. Swear word." "Curse, sure glad I know better than him and I'm not as stupidly retarded, Cursing curse." "For sure. Spit. Scratch. Curse." Eventually men talk or fight about it, talk again, figure it out, then have a drink.

And all the while, the wind off the Bering Sea gets cold, and warm. It gets sunny and cloudy. The day never ends. And there's a stillness, even when its busy. I can feel it soaking into my bones like those warm cups of water into my hands, 6 years ago.

The bottom-line

2009-01-05T17:18:00.000-08:00

Over the years, I've been trying to whittle down life to its fundamental, rudimentary, bare-boned, 0% fat, bottom-line point.

In 30 years, I understood 3ish parts to it.

1-relationships- particularly family.

2- agency.

An interesting case could be made for honor being a bottom-line, but since honor is simply the way in which you administer your agency, I consider it a sub-heading of agency and not a bottom-line altogether by itself.

And it all made sense to me. Family and choice. Being noble and honorable- or owning our agency, all the time, always choosing well- a constant WWJD of perfection. Thats all we really have. Everything else is a byproduct.

But in the last few weeks I've been rethinking those things.

Something thats been on my mind since Africa has been how charity, while providing the fish, inhibits a person's ability to learn how to fish. The catch-phrase that came to my mind, that I don't know if someone else has said it so maybe I'll make the cut on some quote poster someday, is "The principle of something for nothing undermines everything noble in a person."

And I know that is true. Its the kind of knowledge that I feel it, know it, I'd stand in front of the firing squad and it wouldn't change my opinion kind of opinion.

But I didn't realize until yesterday the power of the converse.

The principle of something for something aggrandizes everything noble in a person- which is the fancy way of saying, "If you work, it will make you the best possible person you can be."

And I've never been a slouch. I've worked for 30 hours straight before. I've gone from a graveyard shift to school to the gym to a 3 hour nap to another class to a graveyard shift to a whole other day of busyness more times than I can count. But, I never understood that the way you work is an end in and of itself. The point isn't simply the result, its the mode. And the reason the work in and of itself has value is because of who you become while you do it. Results/ends/achievements/goals/ lahdy-friggin'-dah... they're just ways people track progress from the outside. I suppose they are a sort of quantifier too, so you don't just turn into a slave of your work that can never feel satisfied.... but the point of it is, the work, regardless of what that work might be, is an end in and of itself. Giving of yourself in an exchange is okay. Its even okay if its not what you feel is your highest calling or big-picture vision for yourself. Because the habit of work will attract your vision to you as you learn how to be who you need to be in that vision. Idly wishing the "right opportunity" will present itself and half-assedly toiling in jobs that aren't "the real job", will kill you on so many levels, because of the principle of work.

So, amended bottom-line.

1-relationships- family.

2-agency

3-work

And though it is a byproduct of agency, that is, making the work you do valuable, if you use that broad of a brush-stroke you can eliminate family from the bottom-line as well. But they are separate enough to be individually distinctive.

And its my frigging list. But you're welcome to use it- and I don't even care if you site your source.

On my first 30 years

2008-11-19T16:40:00.000-08:00

Things I've learned.

1-Talk is cheap. But its okay, if the person talking is attractive.

2-When the going gets tough the tough get going. Or they stick around. The thing is, the tough do what they want, which is why I started to learn how to cage-fight. Which leads me to my next point.

3-Fighting does solve some problems. Learn how to reason, learn how to punch.

4-Looks are only good for 30 years on a man and 20 years on a woman.

5-I have no idea how the internet works, but its awesome.

6-What goes around comes around. Thanks to the Vietnam Vet, the fence workers, the insurance agent, the mexicans, the other mexican, and the german tourists for giving me rides when I hitchhiked this summer.

7-Women are simple creatures. Just check your ego at the door.

8-Check your ego at the door.

9-Check your massive ego at the door.

10-Life is too short to learn how to play HALO.

11-Life is not too short to spend time on Facebook.

12-Never say never. Unless you really should forget about it.

13-Going uphill is harder than going downhill. Downhill usually signifies a state of progressively worsening conditions. I still don't know how to use the phrase, "Its all downhill from here" properly.

14-I try to provide entertainment for the friends I have who are smarter than me.

15-Traditional education, as it stands and is packaged, is a farce.

16-Pink Floyd has 90% of it right.

17-No task is below you. Unless its literally on the ground.

18-Its 'manila' folders, not 'vanilla' folders.

19-Salad is the best medicine.

20-God, indeed, does care

21-Obama, indeed, does not

22-The FED is a private corporation, unaudited and largely unregulated by the US government.

23-The only stillness left in the world is outdoors in remote, wild places. However, I'm not sure how much fun Henry Thoreau would have been to hang out with.

24-Money really doesn't matter. Except when you need it.

25-Life goes better when you do what you know you should do. I don't think I'll ever make the bed though.

26-Relationships and agency. Thats all we really have. But Ipods really are cool while we got 'em.

27-My mom knows best.

28-My father is easier to get a 'yes' from.

29-Beautiful women are like dollar bills. They used to have value.

30-You don't have to be able to squat 400 pounds.

31-If it doesn't kill you, it can only make you stronger. My motto. And justification for some really stupid crap.

32-'Large' t-shirts don't go down far enough, so, when they're new, you have to stretch them in between the washer and dryer. Stretch them every time you wash them. You'll have your perfect t-shirt.

33-Sizzler's medium-rare steak is the best inexpensive steak out there.

34-Costa Azul's Barbecue Pork Quesadilla is the only food that has ever made me say a dirty word because it was so delicious.

35-Whoever said "Its better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all" was mentally handicapped.

36-Love does not conquer all.

37-Only when you lose everything are you free to do anything.

38-Charity is one of the best ways to hurt someone. And help. But a sword it is. With two-edges.

39-HMS will accomplish big things.

40-East of Eden is one of the best books ever written.

41-Don't take things too seriously. Unless it needs to be taken seriously.

42-Despite all the evidence that justifies you, there's a good chance you're wrong.

43-It is always your fault.

44-Based on results, you have exactly what you intended. Which is weird to think about when I think of when I tripped on the last hurdle in a race in front of the whole freshman class.

There's more, but that'll do for now.

Hurricane Ike

2008-10-02T22:33:00.000-07:00

Picture this: You hear of a hurricane coming. You live on the gulf coast, so a hurricane in and of itself isn't a big deal. You take a few mementos. You figure you'll be back in 2 or three days. You go to stay with a family member in Houston.

The Hurricane itself doesn't do much damage, but the storm surge which reached 15 feet in some parts of Galveston, floods everything. It's a week before you're able to get back. By then your refrigerator hasn't had power for a week. Everything in your home under 5 feet high has been soaking in water since the storm hit; drywall, carpet, couches, clothes. Most everything will have to be thrown away. The remodeling you just did was a waste of money. You're going to have to do a complete remodel, replacing everything on the inside of your home; drywall, fixtures, cabinets, carpet, paint... everything.

You don't have much money to do it. You had hurricane insurance. But the damage was done by a flood, not by a hurricane. You don't have flood insurance. You don't know where you're going to stay, how you're going to pay for it, how long it will take, how much exactly you'll get from the insurance company, and if your life will EVER be exactly the same.

And then 50 volunteers come to your home. As your neighbors are working with teams of 2 or 3 people, tearing out walls and making piles of debris on their front sidewalks, a small army does in 2 hours what will take your neighbors weeks to do. They haul everything out, they rip up the carpet, they bust the drywall, they get your house ready to air out so the remodeling can start.

You are overwhelmed. You try to direct traffic and make yourself useful, but you can't seem to concentrate. Why are these people helping? How am I going to get my life back to normal? How long will they be here? How am I going to pay for the damage? Thoughts flood your head uncontrollably.

It's time for the volunteers to go. You are so grateful, but then they present you with $500. Your pride tells you you can't take it. They've already done enough. You'll manage. But 50 volunteers tell you that you have no choice. You reluctantly accept the money. You're overcome. You weep. You're a proud man. But you weep.

That was the scene of the final project. I don't know about everyone else there in Galveston last Saturday, but I saw something that I will never forget. We put that man in an impossible position of debt. He knew it. And when he realized that we didn't expect anything in return, he was overcome. But what he doesn't know is that he repaid us with his sincere gratitude in a way that nothing else could have.

I am grateful to be part of a company that has the priorities, means and ability to make something like the Texas relief trip happen. I'm grateful that Lindsey Grauling had the gumption to vocalize an idea she'd had. I'm glad for the people that heard it and built it. I'm grateful to all the incredible people in Corporate (Josh, Danielle, Christy and company) who handled the myriad details that are evil but necessary and made the trip run so smoothly. To the people that went to bed after me and got up before me. But I'm most grateful to that man, who showed me what true gratitude looks like.

A choice between two turds

2008-10-02T22:15:00.000-07:00

I have the ability to wax poetic when needed. I'm vocabularily capable. (even though vocabularily comes up red in the spell-check). With that as my disclaimer, I finally thought of the perfect analogy to this years election.

Say, there's a big turd on a plate. And there is a second, slightly smaller turd, on another plate. The two turds are placed in front of you, and you are told that you have to eat one. You obviously choose the smaller turd, but the fact remains, you are still eating a turd.

This years election- a choice between a big turd and a littler turd. God Bless America.

Hitchhiking

2008-07-26T10:59:00.000-07:00

I'm really curious about myself sometimes. Not in an unhealthy, narcissistic sort of way, but kind of like when you watch television- you wonder why the characters are doing what they're doing, and its a surprise to you. I never know what I'm going to come up with next. I'm good entertainment for myself. Thats why I don't watch TV.

So, I'm supposed to go to a family reunion in Washington, then my brother volunteers to drive me back. But I'd already bought the plane tickets. Then, friends are going to be in Powell for a couple of days at the end of the week, so I instantly put together the most practical plan to make it all happen. I'll fly up to the reunion, drive back with Brother, chill in Vegas for a couple of days, then, the obvious way to get to Powell from Vegas is hitchhiking. I looked at Greyhound, but they didn't have a legitimate stop at Bullfrog/Powell. I looked at the railroad lines, thinking maybe I could jump a train or something, but I couldn't be sure they would go in the right direction.

Hitchhiking it is.

I wanted to be as genuine a hitchhiker as possible. No cheating. My brother was going to give me a ride to Mesquite or St. George, but I told him just to drop me off at the edge of Vegas. I decided to do it the old fashioned way. The thing about the old fashioned way, is it really isn't old fashioned anymore. I had a debit card that I used to purchase refrigerated water. I had a cell-phone that I could use to call my brother while I was in Vegas, or on the road if I got into trouble. I'm not sure if old-fashioned exists anymore.

There is a lot of education thats involved with hitchhiking. As in the successful lemonade stand, one of the major keys to hitchhiking is "location, location, location." I tried the street corner first. I needed a place that people could see me and have room to pull over. I stayed on the corner for 45 minutes. Nothing. I walked up farther from the corner to where the actual on ramp was. And I realized there were only 1 or 2 cars every 15 minutes at this particular on ramp. No traffic=less potential rides.

I go back to the gas station. I started at 10:30am, on a typical July day in Vegas. Its now 12:00. Its bloody hot. I sit in the shade on the semi-truck side of the gas station, and have a sign sitting in front of me that says, "St. George, Cove Fort, Denver." A few truckers look at it as they go inside to pay. A couple smile. No one stops. I wait until 1pm. I've already drank a bottle and a half of water. I buy another liter, then as I sit to wait some more, a gas station attendant blitzes me with, "you can't do that here." and like an enigma, she's gone before I can argue or ask for suggestions.

So, I pick up my side bag, and start walking north. The exit was bad anyway. I call Las Vegas Metro P.D. to ask if I can hitchhike on the freeway. I wanted to clarify. I find out that you can't hitchhike legally in all of Clark County. My law-abiding self says, "just have your brother give you a ride to St. George." But luckily, the awesome side of myself says, "Don't make the call, pansy."

Its hot. I'm not going to try and impress you with geusstimations of how ridiculously hot it was. I would bet money is somewhere around the century mark. And I'm not a gambling man. Bloody hot. And I'm walking. The freeway goes in a north-easterly direction, but the road I'm walking on is heading east. I find a break in the fence of an empty lot that goes all the way to the freeway, and I go through it.

In a place where there are homeless people, if you think a place should have a break in the fence, there probably is one.

I walk through the barren lot, and come to a make-shift tent that looks like a mound of tarps, probably 10-12 feet in diameter. Water bottles are everywhere. Hydration is next to Godliness, was this guys mantra. This is how someone lives. In a scrap-book tent, water bottles everywhere, pissing in the trees behind his house when he needs to, coming and going as he pleases. What a life. I come to a fence, and don't see an opening, even though there should have been one.

And there was. Right behind the tree.

I make it to the next exit, and its much better for hitchhiking. Lots of traffic. Probably 2 cars a minute. Plenty of visibility. They can see me for about 100 yards in advance. And, under an elevated street-sign, there's a 3x3 patch of shade for me. My wildest dreams come true. Now its a waiting game.

I'm there for an hour, and a Mustang pulls over. When I first started hitchhiking, I had all these ideas of safety, and running if someone pulled over that I was nervous about. I actually bought a pocket knife that had a good feel in my hand- just in case I had to use it.

When the Mustang pulled over, I just felt so exhilarated and lucky, safety wasn't exactly the primary concern. I'd just spent 3 hours in 100 degree heat. I just wanted to get in before he drove away. I did shift the knife into a better position once I was in the car, just in case.

Saying I had a knife and had made contingency plans for using it, might make warning bells go off with some people. "Why would you put yourself in a position like that?" And if you think like that, then any explanation about me having a knife would probably just fall on deaf ears. I wanted to hitchhike. I didn't go out hoping to get in a knife fight. With hitchhiking, you're getting picked up by a stranger, or group of strangers. There are a lot of what-ifs. And so, I addressed the normal ones. What if he pulls off in the middle of nowhere? What if I get poked with a needle that has some date-rape drug? What if there isn't just the driver, but there are multiple people? How do I prepare for each different scenario depending on where I'm seated in relation to 1 or more people in the car?

I made the decision that if I got poked with a needle, or had a gun/knife pulled on me, I was going to go out swinging. Why put yourself in that position? Why not? is my question. I don't know of anyone that has lived an extraordinary life that did it working 9-5, and from the safety of their arm-chair. Now, hitchhiking isn't exactly extraordinary. Its actually one of the most boring and mundane things you could do. People talk about what they want to do, and what things would be like. I don't like to wonder what hitchhiking is like. I don't like to wonder about things. When possible, I try to get first hand experience. I'm not sure why I felt compelled to try hitchhiking. Maybe I just needed to get more material to blog about and hitchhiking was the cheapest way.

I never learned the first guy's name. He was a Vietnam Vet that served in a flight crew. He was shot down over Cambodia, on his way to deliver supplies to some Force Recon Marines. It was pretty hairy for a minute, as they ran from the Viet-cong, ran through the line of Force Recon guys just as the Marines engaged the Vietnamese that were pursuing him and his surviving crew members. They had to go back and get the plane, because we weren't supposed to be in Cambodia, even though everyone in the world knew we were, and knew the Vietnamese were using Cambodia for the Ho Chi Min trail. Political B.S. that has started precedents we still haven't learned and recovered from.

He gave me a ride to Hurricane, Utah. After a quick pit-stop, I started walking. I figured most people were like me, and if a person is walking rather than sitting, I'm more likely to help him.

I walked for 3 miles before the rain started. Just a sprinkle, but it was enough to get sympathy from a couple of fence builders on their way to a job. One was Caucasion, the other Mexican. (Senora). He kept on asking me about "weeeeeed." I tried to pay my way with jokes, got them laughing, and figured that was a good trade. They were only going a few miles up the road to Toquerville, aptly named for my newly-made Mexican marijuana lobbyist.

They dropped me off, and I started walking again. I hadn't gone 5 minutes when I got my 3rd ride. It was a sleek, black, BMW 330i. The guy in the car was a well-groomed, leg-shaving, fake-n-baking guy wearing Abercrombie nonsense and not wearing any shoes. I got in, fearing a bunch of patronizing nonsense, but after an hour he was pretty cool. He was going to Salt Lake, and I just needed a ride to Cove Fort, where I-70 med I-15.

We talked about his insurance business, which he started on his own in St. George. He has a wife and 5 boys, which was a relief. I though he might have had ulterior motives. He teaches his kids to meditate, to be still.

After a quick pit-stop at Cove Fort, and after successfully getting 3 rides and not getting raped even once, I started walking to I-70, which turned out to be another 2 miles. I got to the freeway just as the sun was setting, and this ride was the most critical of the day. Or so I thought.

As the light dwindled, a car stopped about 200 yards down the road, but didn't start backing up. A guy got out, made the motions of a man relieving himself in the bushes, then got back in. But, then it started to back up.

When they pulled up to me, my heart broke when I saw it was a latino family, and I was going to sit next to a 1 year old in a car seat. I wanted to thank them and then tell them to never do this again.

I had called Clayton, who I was supposed to meet at Powell by 7am the following morning. He said to take I-70 to a particular exit, that there weren't services, but I'd have reception. If I couldn't get a ride, I should call him and he'd come get me. I had no intention of calling, but it was good to know it was there.

The Latino's dropped me off at 11pm at exit 149 in the middle of desert on I-70. The left, and I turned my phone on.

No reception.

My battery was about dead. So, I turned it off, and put my thumb out for a passing car. In the first 45 minutes, 3 cars passed me, all coming from the I-70 west. They were going full speed when they saw me, and didn't even slow down. I decided to go up on the over-pass so they wouldn't be going as fast when they saw me, and just in case Clay or a Powell representative came, I could go back that way.

About 5 cars passed in the first 2 hours. It went down to about a car an hour all night.

It was muggy. There were gnats and mosquitos. It was at least 80 degrees until 2am. I didn't have repellant or pants, so I wrapped my Masai blanket around my legs, put on my hoody, and sat down, leaning against the concrete railing of the over-pass. I'd stand up whenever a car passed. Slowly, leaning became laying, and I dozed, jumping up whenever cars came, hoping my thumb would be a catalyst for a charitable act the person hadn't planned on in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere.

My thumb had lost its magic, it seems. I dozed and woke all night, fighting off malicious mosquitos and tenacious gnats until the minute I left. At 8am, a mexican kid picked me up and gave me a ride 3 miles down the road. He had to feed the pheasants at a farm he worked at, but once he was done, if I paid for gas, he'd drive me all the way to Powell. He said he would be done in 2 hours, so if you get a ride, fine. If not, I'll take you..

I don't feel like writing anymore, so, to be continued....

OK, continued.

So, I'm standing there, overcast desert weather, muggy, gnats dive-bombing my eyes, little kamakazi SOB's. I still have my Masai blanket around my legs, still have my hoody on, still cursing the mosquitos. I wait for 45 minutes, about 5 cars pass, so the traffic is increasing, but no one stops. I think to myself, "why don't I help the mexican kid feed the pheasants, get it done faster, we'll leave sooner, and everyone's happier?"

I've seen the process of feeding poultry. It involves a bag or some quantity of food and some sort of hopper or receptical. Pretty cut and dry.

So, I walk to the farm, which was another mile and a half. Its located on a creek, and you get to it by following what used to be the old highway. Now their road to their farm is paved with red pavement.

I get there, but it turns out that his boss was there. I'd already put my bag back in his car, but then his boss saw me, and he was civil, but I definately got the feeling that this was a man that thought me hitchhiking wasn't an adventure or exciting or even amusing. He was about 68 going on 90. His family had farmed pheasants for over 70 years. He gave me mosquito repellant and a ride back to the road.

The car the Mexican kid was going to drive me in was a company car. He wasn't supposed to put strangers in it. I'd lost my ride.

He took me back to the road a different way, so I was now 2 miles further down the road. I had moved 5 miles in 10 hours. It was 9am.

And there I sat. The clouds began to get darker, then a drizzle started. It began to rain in earnest. My thumb was out, and no one cared. I tried reading and not looking at the cars passing. I tried reading and looking up. I tried standing up and looking them in the eye. I tried a smile like this was the happiest place I could be right now. I tried a somber look. I tried a pleading look. I'm not proud of that. But as 10 became 11, as I'd gotten rained on, I didn't care. I was a communist; my ends would justify my means. I even held up $20. No one stopped.

Now, I'd had plenty of water and some thing to snack on when I started, but I was down to my last half liter of water. I had a couple of pieces of jerky left. And I think a Southwest Airlines bag of peanuts. Green River was 20 miles north and east. Hanksville was 40 miles south. I could walk to Green River. Might take me 2 days. But I could do it. Bottom-line, all of a sudden, my fun little adventure had very real consequences. This was real.

At 1130, 13 hours after I'd been dropped off by the Latino family in the middle of nowhere in the dark, a PT Cruiser stopped and back up. After some seat shuffling, I was put in the front seat, a man driving, his wife and 20 year old son in the back. They were German tourists, on vacation for a month touring West's national parks. They listened to German pop music. We were going fast, and we began passing all the doosh-bags that hadn't pulled over.

Now, I'm not really mad that they didn't pull over. Most of the men driving were with their wives and kids. Some smiled at me and mouthed, "I can't." Some threw their hands up as if to say, "they're tied, dude." I don't blame them. It was just frustrating knowing who I am, knowing I'm as far from a threat as they will ever find, and not being perceived as anything than what I am.

I geuss they didn't gaze into my eyes. Or maybe I have too much gansta in my eyes; too much 1000 yard stare.

The Germans gave me a ride to Hanksville. There were a lot of people at the Gas station. My cell phone worked. I bought a Powerade. I washed my face, changed my clothes to Powell friendly stuff. But I was still a vagabond. There were all these beautiful girls and the guys they were with, and then there was me, overstuffed side-bag, a Gen-u-wine Johnny Appleseed vagabond. I could talk to them. What would I say? How would I say, "I'm actually a really normal dude that usually gets phone numbers from girls like you, but I also happened to feel like hitchhiking, just cuz. So, you come here often? Nice shoes..."

I walked to the next gas station, approached a likely candidate, explained I just needed a ride, I'd ride in the back of their truck if they wanted, I just didn't want to have to walk to Powell. They agreed. I drank another half liter of cold water. On the drive, I put my head into the wind like a happy dog with his tongue out. I had to squint to see. But I'd done it. It took me 26 hours, but I'd done it. And the last stage, as last stages seem to be, was the best. It was a panoramic triumph of desert landscape and my victory.

Okay, that all sounds pretty dramatic. Starting out, I didn't think I'd get hurt, but when you spend a night on an over-pass, all of a sudden getting there is a huge accomplishment. Because you've not accomplished your mission for much of your journey. I was giddy. I rolled into Powell as if I'd conquered the world.

Perspective.

I stuck my thumb out for a total of 6 hours. The rest of the 26 hours was walking, riding or sleeping. 6 hours of thumb in the air. Way to go.

I don't recommend hitchhiking, unless you have a lot of time on your hands. Girls should not hitchhike. Unless they're hot and I'm with them.

Courage in Transparency

2008-05-19T06:32:00.000-07:00

Maybe I've been listening to Pink Floyd for to long. Too bad Roger Waters is a socialist.

A poem I wrote that is now a song I'm working on.

The masks we wear

The webs we weave

All the things that we do

In the name of need.

The hearts we break

And the tears we cry

Big crocodile tears

They're the tears that lie

We're born it starts

And then we spend

The rest of our lives, righting our wrongs

Again and again

Chorus:

But raise your head, look up, to the sky

If you get nothing else, you gotta realize

There's courage in transparency

Its the only thing to seek, for me

Have you been to Africa?

Have you heard of Ukraine?

Everywhere around us

The world is full of pain

Our pain is just as real,

But our pain is on the fence

The problem with our pain

Its the pain of indifference

Chorus

I've used my will to hurt you

A two-edged sword my agency

But I don't feel most sorry for you

I feel sorriest for me

God he knows I'm sorry

I tell him all the time

Crocodile prayers of sorrow

We both wonder if they're mine

Chorus

Everyone around you

Everyone on the street

Should have a heavy heart

And walk with heavy feet

And if they don't know why

You can't really laugh until you've cried

Cuz laughter without truth

Is the biggest lie

I laugh because its all I got

To show heaven I don't understand

I laugh because its all I've got

To show heaven that I don't understand

On life

2008-04-06T00:49:00.000-07:00

I just watched "Into the Wild." I read the book, and thought some of the basic premises of the hippie, "get back to basics" mentally are pure b.s. Seeing the movie didn't make me change my opinion.

But the hippies won't change a damn thing through love. And the politicians won't change a damn thing through laws. And the Christians won't change a damn thing through Christ. Except for me, right? Everybody thinks they have a handle on truth, on love, on politics, on "getting back to basics" and the good life. On religion.

I'm a Christian. And I happen to think I'm right. Just like everyone else. So do the Muslims, and the Bhuddists, and everyone else. And I'm okay being judgmental about their stupidity and their need to change, because God's on my side, right? How far can you take that argument before you're preparing yourself a place in hell, and your inability to love is creating a type of hell for you in this life?

Can you take the argument as far as disliking? What if you smile to their face and bring people of other faiths cookies? Is that your Christian duty? Cookies? Thats the epitome of Christian love is cookies and an incredulous shake of the head when a non-Christian doesn't embrace the truth.

Am I the only one that doubts my own ability to see myself clearly and not get caught up in the magic spell of self-deception that gets in the way of us becoming transparent to the world?

Do you think the biggest priority in this life, for a religious person, is simply to get involved in the "right" religion? Because, I can tell you, religious affiliation is the least of humanities concerns. How about, being honorable? Thirsting for truth? Dealing justly with your fellow-men? Being honest? Caring, genuinely, and not with proselytory motives?

I hear all sorts of crap from people that know they're right. How must it feel to KNOW you're right? They KNOW that we need more gun laws. They KNOW that we should get out of the U.N. They KNOW that italian is the best food. They KNOW that Islam/Catholicism/Baptists/Protestants/Methodists/Mormons/Jews are the true faith. They KNOW the war was a mistake. They KNOW things. The minute you KNOW, if thats your conclusion without future ability to process new information, you are just as bad as the opposition of the thing you know.

The more I understand, the more I realize how inexhaustible is truth and its pursuit. Its a never ending onion. The onion has a theoretical core, and on a deserted island, I might find it. But the minute you put an upperclass man that has an upperclass degree and has never done a day of manual labor, and a woman who was abused and works at McDonald's, and a teenager that has an attitude a mile wide but really just wants to be loved, and a soldier who's in the army for college money, and a nice lady that watches her favorite shows 3 nights a week after dinner, and the teacher that wants to change the world... the point is, the minute you get all these different life-stories bumping into each other, you're creating new applications to every truth you ever discover about the onion of truth.

But capital T Truth without context is worthless. Its deserted island truth. And while numbingly satisfying, truth without friends to share it with is empty, virgin margarita truth. And so thats exactly what we do. We create a bunch of friendships based on our perceptions of truth, until we create a huge peer group of ego massaging, band-wagon riders. We're all right, and they're wrong. Who's they? Our brothers and sisters are wrong. But we won't try to change them, we'll just eat our hot tomato soup of "being right" and feel bad for those outsiders that don't "get it."

We spend our whole lives, seeking this mind-numbing comfort of self-esteem and validation- until our lives feel the way you feel after you play video-games for 8 hours straight- you know you should stop, but you can't because its easier to keep on going than to stop. We live our lives that way.

It makes me want to get out on the road like Chris did. Do something different. Do what Thoreau did. But what has "getting back to the basics" really done for anyone? Truth without friends around us to share it with is worthless. And so, by the very nature of truth's enjoyment, truth becomes a proselytory burden.

Just don't treat truth as an MLM. You don't have a monopoly on truth. Doesn't matter who you are, there's someone that knows more. So, listen. Learn. Teach when appropriate. But shut up and listen mostly. Because we all have a lot to learn.

The problem and a solution

2008-03-16T21:29:00.000-07:00

I recently read a letter sent by a concerned citizen, who is the head of a "citizen's watch" type organization, on behalf of a bunch of people that had written him with their concerns. His concerns called for a total, and I mean total 180 in American politics and current ideology. The basic idea/premise, was lets erase the last 200+ years and start from scratch.

Do away with the FDA- it at least suggested an alternative. Get out of the UN. Bring all troops home and have them man our borders. Repeal all gun-control legislation. A bunch of stuff along those lines. And I couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable, even with the political leanings I have. One suggestion was to impose a 3x tariff on all imports.

I'm no economist, and I believe in the American Founding 100%. But I don't think the answer is to simply rewind the tape, and press play at 1776 with all of our current knowledge and lessons learned to move forward with.

And frankly, writing a letter that basically calls for the abolition of all governmental regulatory bodies, all legislation, all amendments since 1913... honestly, I think its a bit ignorant to think that that letter would get 2 minutes worth of attention.

Now, here's what I think. I think a major change is in order. As one bank after another goes down. As the Fed cuts rates lower and lower... until the government is actually GIVING us money- oh wait, they ARE giving us money in that neat little relief check we're supposed to get starting May 1st. As the Fed promises to loan money to banks which the Fed doesn't really have, to banks who have shown a propensity for ignorant decision making- in essence, not letting the naughty child learn its lesson.

But, change has to be realistic. And a wanton, emotional surging change could be just as catastrophic as the current condition. Change for change's sake isn't necessarily good. And emotional change is hardly what the world needs more of.

And I don't trust completely in the world's ability to be rational- after all, rationality would NOT have led us to enter into the present Iraqi situation. Rationality would NOT have us managing the war the way it is being managed.

At this point, though I've been Republican my whole life, blue-collar from diapers to now, I realize the "damned-if-you-do-damned-if-you-don't" nature of our party system. And whether you're going to vote Republican and blow our money in foreign nations, or Democrat, and waste our money on crippling domestic social programs- the principles of both parties ARE out of line from the original ideology of the American Founding.

So, in frustration, lets just wipe the slate clean, and start over. Think, people. Think. Do you really think, first of all, that that is possible? Second of all, do you think putting a work force out of work the size of half the Federal Government, or all of it, would accomplish anything but MASSIVE domestic issues?

I guess the point I'm getting at, is everyone, and I've talked to Militia-men and Hilary supporters (which, I think are on the extremes of the ludicrous scale), everyone knows there are problems and knows this election is a crucial step. The problem is, most of the people that want to accomplish something drastic, want to pull a Federal witch-hunt and get rid of all the Kings horses and all the Kings men- completely ignoring the fact that times have changed.

Now, the principles of the founding have not. But, complete, isolationism, I don't see as the answer either. I don't see tariffs as the answer. They will just allow the American factory worker to get fatter and fatter and hinder businesses from accomplishing their purpose, profits. Yes, businesses should be profitable. Thats how they are able to pay us, the workers. If they are hampered by unions and benefits packages and all these periphery and expensive side-tracks, they will ship out.

Don't allow them to ship out, you say? Force them to stay here? Thats called tyranny, my friend. And whether you do it with a law or at the point of a gun, force is force. All laws ARE backed by guns, by the way. The bottom line, do you think the world would be trying to come here if we didn't have a good thing? And do you think businesses would be shipping out if it made financial sense to stay?

I think the American people, just like our government, need to pull back. A business doesn't owe us a job. Its our privilege to work there. For our toil, we receive compensation. Thats the exchange. Like any relationship, if the exchange isn't mutually beneficial to both parties, the relationship will be severed.

But, I digress. We live in a world that is so connected, through text-messaging, Facebook, Linkd In, internet on our phones, GPS- its hard for me to sneeze without a friend text messaging "bless you." Isolationism, if we had followed that doctrine, would have led to a very different Europe. Indeed, a very different world.

This might be a little uncomfortable for some people, so just be patient, I'll get to the point.

"But, the wars are planned," you say. Whether you believe in conspiracy theories or not, Hitler was a real person, the Holocaust did happen, and whether you think the war was just an excuse for gun makers and bankers to make money, the truth of it was, a real man, with a real army, conquered most of Europe before we got involved. If we hadn't gotten involved, it could have been worse.

I was reading Patton's, "War as I knew it," and he alludes to the fact that the Germans didn't have a sustainable infrastructure. Whatever. I won't argue with a man who pissed in the Rhine because he'd always wanted to.

The point is, whether it was planned or not, the issue had pressed us or would have eventually and inevitably. The U.N., for all of its problems, inefficiencies, scandals, etc... is the best thing we've got for what it does. And whether you think the U.N. is the precursor of the New-World-Order, and if left unchecked we'll be filing our income taxes with the U.N. instead of the U.S.- or if you think they're only a good-old-boys club between nations. The fact is, they are doing more for the humanity of man than anything else ever has.

If you take all the wars, genocide, etc, that have been committed since the beginning of time, and compare that to the time since the U.N. was initiated, I think you would find for all the horrible things that have happened in the past 70 years, the record is impressive, comparatively. Without the U.N., what would we do instead?

Does the U.N. lack teeth? Yes. A better question for the conspiracy theorists who use that as a criticism, should it have teeth in the first place? Now, the basic premise of the U.N. is there. How do you want it to be used?

Though I can talk about all of this indefinitely, the point is, everyone knows a change needs to occur. And while I appreciate the zeal of certain citizens, I think until you can actually put together a realistic framework of change, and then harness the masses, you won't accomplish anything. And you'll continue to write letters that aren't heard because they aren't letters that can do anything in the first place.

So, what can we do, as citizens, now? A lot. Government isn't going to change your situation. If you want it to, that is the problem right there. You have to change you.

So, how can we change? Its easy. And hard. You need to become the best person you can be, in Mind, Body, Soul, Finance, and Social aspects of your life.

Now, I'm not attempting to sell anything. I have no motivational book I'm pitching. And if the answer seems insultingly simple, in our age of technological glory, consider yourself insulted. America was founded by a group of people who wanted freedom not simply to do whatever the hell the wanted. They wanted freedom to PURSUE happiness. Not debauchery.

So, the answer is, the citizens of the U.S. of A must embrace the principles of the founding. Yes, it will require a mental and moral inventory. Yes it will require you to do something. You cannot simply sit in your armchair, remote control in hand, and watch CNN incredulously wishing someone would "do something."

Study more. And not just what you're comfortable with. We don't need more citizens who are committed to validating their opinions. We need more citizens that are willing to look at America with a 3 generation approach.

We need healthy people. Stop looking to pills. Look to salad. You wouldn't be sick if your body was healthy. And health isn't a chicken and the egg paradox. The more exercise you do and the more fresh foods you eat, the less you'll get sick. So, put down the potato chips and pick up an apple.

"The constitution was made for a moral and religious people," John Adams said. Go to church. Meditate. Worship your higher power as you see fit. But we need to seek truth and the golden rule. Less internet and more time with the kids. Immorality isn't okay. Not simply from a religious standpoint, but logically, it corrupts and ruins your ability to be great. Argue the point, if you disagree.

Save more, spend less. Having a rainy day fund will not hurt you, I promise. Pay attention to financial discussions. Don't turn your brain off. Even if you don't understand the lingo, remember when you learned to walk, you didn't just hop up and dance. You stutter-stepped, fell on your seat, got up and repeated 1000 times before you took 5 steps in a row. Thats progress. Remember, the principle of something for nothing undermines everything noble in the human race. So, in the financial arena, don't expect anything for free. Progress requires work. Don't spend money you don't have. And if you don't understand it, its a bad investment.

Appreciate your family. Appreciate your friends. Associate with like-minded individuals. Get to know your neighbors. Get involved. Talk with people face-to-face more. Don't rely on cell-phones and internet. In the end, all we have is our character, and our relationships- if you believe in eternity, thats the bottom-line. So, recognize the end from the beginning, and do the right thing now.

As we focus on those things, on improvement, we'll be better suited to change the nation the way it needs changing. If the nation isn't committed to those things, on improving personally, there really is no hope.

This years election

2008-01-05T22:13:00.000-08:00

With all the media hype, especially now that the mud is starting to fly and the debates are getting juicy, its important to remember this isn't just some reality TV show. This is the election of the president of the USA. Which is a by-default election of the leader of the free world. Everyone needs to take a step back this election year and use common-sense for once. What are the issues? Health-care reform? Sure. But not the way most people think of it. The War in Iraq? Yup. But not for the reasons most people are opposed to it. Social Security? Yes. But the reform required isn't what most people are thinking about. What about the national debt and devaluation of the dollar?

Here's the thing. Once we, as a people, through direct election of candidates who vote us privileges out of the national treasury (health-care, social-security, pell-grants, unemployment, welfare, etc...), where do we draw the line between an appropriate line and an inappropriate line. Is it ok to help a single-mom that wouldn't be able to go to school without the pell-grant? Is it ok to pay more in benefits than were paid into the social security fund? I don't want to split hairs. When God put us here, he expected us to become as responsible and accountable as possible. We're here to learn to use our free will. Thats the governmental system that Thomas Jefferson and George Washington and all our brilliant and revered founding fathers organized. A government who's job is simply to protect each other from each other and other nations, and let the market decide the rest.

Government and governmental agencies are like dogs, in a sense. They'll push the boundaries until they find them. Sometimes they need a smack on the nose. Does everyone realize what an expenditure of money we don't have does to our economy? What happens to your bank account when you buy a bunch of stuff on credit? Initial lifestyle change, long-term pain. But here's the thing. Governmental policy doesn't precede individual behavior of citizens. In a democracy, the citizens elect and get what they want. Based on our results, we want the debt to be rising at a rate that is almost to the point of no-return. What that is doing is causing havoc on the value of our dollar, which means the dollar you make today is worth less than the dollar you made yesterday. Unless you're salary is growing at more than 4% a year, you're making less money year by year. And the devaluation of the dollar isn't the government's fault. Its our faults for not understanding the crap we see as news.

Every time we see the headline, "Government bailout proposed." what we need to recognize is the government doesn't bail out anybody. We bail out people. So, the sub-prime industry, through piss-poor management and bad loan strategies, loses a bunch of money. Government bails them out. That money comes from tax-payers in the form of a hidden tax, called the Fed lowering interest rates, increasing the money supply given to Congress, thus initiating inflation. Every time the Government bails out someone, or the President asks for more money to fund something, (which if you're in debt, is spending money you don't have), what is really happening, is your and my dollar is about to be worth less.

Now, what can we do? First of all, become fiscally responsible and encourage your friends and family to become fiscally responsible. Second, educate yourself on governmental policy. If you're not willing to do that, you should leave, because you're the reason we have this problem. Third, in an election year, where the most powerful nation in the history of the world has a third of its citizens turn out to cast their ballot, vote.

When you vote, ask yourself, "Is this candidate going to be a leader among leaders such as Thomas Jefferson, Abraham Lincoln, and Benjamin Franklin? Does this candidate have experience in reforming big systems? (not passing reform bills, actually taking a system thats faulty, overhauling it, and making the system function properly again). How far removed from the real world is the candidate; are they a career politician or have they been successful elsewhere? Is this candidate going to give power back to the people through less social programs, or am I going to be taxed more through inflation because of this candidates policies?"

These are the real issues of the campaign. I'm sick of hearing trite talk from candidates that think this is just another election. Its not. This election is a pivital election. The candidate will set up a major "calling to the carpet" of wasteful policy decisions. He/She won't simply pass bills and absolve unnecessary governmental agencies, but will actually hold our government accountable for change produced. We can put our heads in the sand if we like, but America is very clearly, noticeably, quantifiably declining as we speak. And the more we spend on social programs and bailouts and wars, the faster that will be the case. The candidate can make drastic changes. Or not. We can continue to play Xbox, go to the movies, finance more toys and suck equity out of our homes and choose to be ambivalent, uneducated citizens until America is an Italy when it was once a Rome. But the main thing, is Governmental change doesn't start with Government. It starts with us. And this election will be really telling as to how far the people of America really do have their heads in the sand.

My philosophy

2007-09-16T05:32:00.000-07:00

Bless and damn my mind. I'm reading a book, called "Knights of the Black and White" about the knights Templar. It talks about the original taking of Jerusalem. How Christians, in the name of God and "His will", raped, pillaged, plundered and killed the inhabitants of the city, irrespective of sex, age, etc. And based on past and present histories, we have to assume that people of our day are no different than then- even worse given the opportunity. However biased the teachings may have been at the time of the Crusades, all the people had was religion. All they had to learn about, was a hope that through good living they would gain a reward in Heaven- because they certainly weren't going to receive any kind of reward here. Enter the ransacking of Jerusalem. Was that just repressed human nature coming out; once it finally received the unchecked opportunity? How did people who's only formal education had come at the hands of priests- priests whom I just can't imagine would preach "kill woman and babies" from the pulpit- how did those same people commit those atrocities?Forward to our day. A people so base and loathsome that adultery is laughed at, that pornography, homosexuality, dishonesty of a million brands is laughed at and discounted as unimportant. We have every piece of information available to us ever produced. We have FREE libraries. We have internet. We have ways of getting ahold of intelligent people. We have television. We have radios in our homes, our cars, we have ipods everywhere else. We have Universities for people living in major cities. We have online educations for people living in Antarctica. Unless you were born an indian in a remote village, there is no excuse today for ignorance except that you don't care enough to ask questions and you aren't patient enough to seek the answers. We live in a fast-food society in the west, and the east is ambivalently steeped in a bhuddist, "no motive other than being" attitude. They are both equally damning as far as progress goes. So, in America, we are busy constantly, until we die. And what have we done? 1-25 school. 25-65 work and family. 65-85 retirement, fishing, family, depends, then dead. Well, what then? What of those things, did you really do that mattered. Some would say family. Well, what if they all turn to debauchery, as is likely in the pressures of the world, inspite of all your sincerest efforts? The likelihood of any family, as a unit, remaining unscathed and healthfully righteous in today's society is damned iffy. You can say that the very effort of trying to save a family will make you better even if they turn to the darkside. However, that makes the "family" point a moot point over other options- except that family are there whether it works out or not. Other causes, you can get out of if they turn out to not be what you expected, like social work or nonprofit stuff.I geuss the point that I'm getting back to, is that the world has been screwed up, with pocket exceptions, from its inception. And now, in all of todays technological glory, we truly are, as Isaiah said, saturated with information but unable to find the truth. And so what does the 20-30 demographic do about it? Get drunk, and get laid in more directed moments. Play X-box in more lazy moments. 1-85, some blips on the radar, you die. You played X-box. Congratulations. Do you think they have X-box in heaven? For that matter, and I'm not so naïve as to think money doesn't matter. But do you think there is money in heaven? What is the currency in Heaven? Is there a Fed in heaven that lowers interest rates to encourage people to spend heavenly currency? Seriously, without any monetary system, how does anything get accomplished. And that is the root of all the problems in society. The only thing we will take with us isn't simply our intelligence, but the manner in which we administered that intelligence. Do you think that if you can't do anything more than study a book that you will miraculously be Tony Robbins after the resurrection? I think anyone, with heavenly validation, can accomplish anything. That said, I am completely ignorant as to how the perfecting process, after this life, will be accomplished. My understanding of God is that he is the Great Validator. He will give you confidences in ways you appreciate- in your language. He will not do anything FOR you. He will assist you in getting the tools, he'll help you feel good about your abilities, but in the end, your job, is to be you- whatever that means. The only thing we take with us, is our intelligence, and the money used in heaven- i.e. our honor, or the way in which we administer our intelligence. Honor means to own your agency. To do the things you say you will, the things you want to do, every time, predictably and consciously. You own every minute of your time. There is never a moment of your time, YOUR time, that is spent doing anything other than what you want to do. And your wants are freely parallel to that of God's. So parallel, as to be one want. And what is that want? Truth. Pure, constant, truth and association with things that are pure and constant and true and with people that are that way. So, it works backwards to forwards. We have to love and seek truth in this life. That will lead to our becoming intelligent. And as we administer that truth effectively, we will gain honor. The path to righteousness is checked with outward ordinances of baptism and such, but ordinances never saved anyone in ignorance, as anyone who spends more time on the x-box than on contemplating the truths of eternity has no place in heaven. Do you think you'll talk to God about how many kills you had in Halo, when the time comes? Or how well you learned to compliment different cosmetic products together, everyday for 30 minutes per session, for your entire life? Women are the vilest creatures for that. Some spend an hour getting ready. An hour! Can you imagine the bitterness and utter horror they will feel at judgement when they realize noone wears makeup in heaven, and they've spent 1 hour per day, 7 hours per week, 28 hours rounded to one day per month, 12 days per year, one year of every thirty getting ready. On pure aesthetics. 2 and a half years of their lives they've spent on aesthetics! And reasonable women, the ones that only spend a half hour getting ready, have spent a year and a quarter freshening up. And there is nothing that makes me more sad than a 55 year old former beauty queen trying to beat time with too much blush. Its pitiful and heartbreaking. Ask questions. Remember the questions you ask. Be patient about the answers. And build on the answers. God will give you truth as fast as you can accept it, and sometimes the truth you are supposed to learn is to really BE where you're at. But keep asking the questions, and learn to become better to live truth as you learn it. Constant, and life-long. And that, is the only way any of us can avoid being one of the Christians who committed atrocities at Jerusalem, or the German soldiers who made the Holocaust a reality, or just the guy that lives a life full of Family Guy, the Office, and Xbox or a woman who looks great but is as worthless under the surface as our money. Constant commitment to seeking truth. And its amazing, but I've spent almost 29 years figuring that out. Why has it taken 29 years for me to understand the bottom-line to existence?