Time for a drink

So, it’s been a while. Did you miss me? Yes, I missed me. Sometimes it feels like that. It’s amazing how you can be a part of something and yet still feel apart from everything. I guess that’s the benefit of ‘society’; a group with commonalities that is made up of self-interested individuals. I’m not the kind of person who seeks or even accepts pity from others. I like to think that I have a decent grasp on things.

People love to group other people together to help them predict what they think and do; it must be left over from elementary school when we have to separate the apples from the oranges to add up how many there are of each. Does no one care how many pieces of fruit there are together? Anyway, I love the question “Do you see the glass half-full or half-empty?” Obviously, the questioner is trying to place you into either a pessimist or optimist bucket based on if you see life as lacking its full potential or as a satisfying experience regardless of the situation. My response to this question is simple. Can no one see that we are talking about half here? Does it really matter if it’s ‘full’ or ‘empty’? I see the fullness of the glass as an accomplishment for what has been obtained but the emptiness as the reality that there could always be more. The real difference in the views, in my opinion, is whether or not you want to do what’s required to make the glass fuller or are you okay with drinking what you have. For me, I guess it depends on how thirsty I am that day.

Is it time?

So, the desert is...hot and dry. But right now it's cold and dry. Yeah, not very interesting. But I did just find out that our lovely city was originally called Pumpkinville. Can you imagine the 5th largest metropolitan area in the U.S. as Pumpkinville? I like it better already.

Wii for Christmas. It's pretty awesome. I used to be big into Nintendo back when it was the NES and SNES but then got out of it when later systems came out. But at least with these games I don't feel like a total loser. I tried playing Madden football with a buddy a while ago. He killed me! I think it was part the controller (too many buttons) and part that he just wanted somebody to waste in football. But I'm not offended; I would have done the same.

So immigration...I'm not going to say much about it; specifically the illegal type. It's just a problem, one that we've ignored for way too long. I don't know what the 'fix' is but some decision needs to be made about it. Arizona is a prime example of what will continue to happen if no official federal stance is taken; require everyone to be able to prove their citizenship and soon to propose legislation to nullify the 14th Amendment's naturalization powers. Couple this with laws allowing people who own guns to both carry them in sight and concealed without special permits is just asking for trouble. Tensions are high on both sides. We need action, and McCain isn't getting it done. So, write you senators. And while you're at it, ask them to repeal the federal pay freeze. No, I'm lucky to have a job. But...seriously.

It's a bird, it's a plane...no really it's a plane!

So there I am, driving down the highway with nothing between me and the pavement but two small wheels and a fire breathing V-twin. I think to myself, this is what's about; no civilization in sight, just blazing down the open road. There's desert to my left and desert to my...no, no there isn't. There are cotton fields. As far as I can see there are cotton fields. Strange thing to see in the desert.

Out of the corner of my eye I see something flying. At first it looks like a circling hawk or other large bird. Quickly, I realize that it's not a bird but a plane. Cool. I think; that would be fun to do. Time seems to slow to a crawl as I am mesmerized by the plane's graceful movement through the sky; slowly turning right and then left. The plane looks awfully low. I snap out of my daze to realize that the plane is less than 100 feet off the ground, looks like smoking, and headed right toward me on the highway. For just a minute, I thought this was it; hit by a plane. At what seemed like the last minute, he banked to his left, came even lower, and a large cloud erupted from behind him. He was dusting the cotton fields. Ha-ha, false alarm. I guess this is what I get for not growing up an agricultural area. But I won't soon forget the day I almost died at the hands of a plane; or wings rather.

At the gates of...tomorrow?

When it's been a long day; no, a real f-ed up day,

It is the best feeling to know that it's not the end

Nope, the sun will rise the next day; life's not over

It may seem like things could not go worse

Like nothing else could go wrong

But it can, and probably will; just wait

But for now, I come home to the best person I know

The one that I want to share with

End my shizzy day with; and start tomorrow with

I may be a crappy best friend sometimes

But I am grateful that she is patient and tolerant

Even though the road may be rough, we can't be stopped

After all, that's why they made 4-wheel drive.

Struggling or Set?

Sometimes the most interesting person in a group is the one still trying to ‘make it’. Everyone probably knows someone like that. They are the one that works random jobs so they can focus on becoming an actor, painter, sculptor, craftsman, or musician. They pop-up from time to time, as their adventures bring them through their home towns. Never quite sure if tomorrow will bring the big break or recognition that they need.

But somehow I envy them. To have something that you enjoy and are passionate enough about that you are willing to risk everything else. Hours after hours are spent in pursuit of only becoming better at the one thing that you know you were meant to do. And the satisfaction is in what you produce. The thing that you complete is yours; it came from you. If only we all could harbor that type of enthusiasm for our ‘work’ and pleasure; to be a struggling artist.

Back on the Burro

As fate would have it, I cannot stay away from the burrito forever. I love Chipotle just as much...well maybe a little more than the next guy. I went to the grand opening of a new location in San Francisco in late June, ordered my usual (Chicken Fajita Burrito), and retired to my hotel room for what I though was another boring evening. Something was not quite right; maybe it was the chicken, poorly cooked on a busy night. But I got food poisoning. Not something that you want ever and especially when out of town. I survived but it was not pretty. Anyway, I have not been back since. Today I went back with family for lunch, ordered my usual, and...nothing. Guess I’ll just have to strike it up to bad luck.

The Wandering man walks a path, but it is not his own.
Down the road, moving; or does Earth pass underneath.
Days, weeks, months; continuous cycles of Light and Dark.
His goal, beyond the horizon; moving in tandem,
Never closer, never further apart; existing separately.

Solid rock erodes to dust; Nature controls and directs.
Nowhere to call home, no way to get back,
At the mercy of wind and the errant Traveler.

The last day closes; Sadness surrounds them.
Neither in control Nor where they wish.
Together, they give Purpose; meaning to Exist.
Their Journey not willed but a Journey the same.
No longer alone, as a pair they expire; in peace.