Endurance

Compassion

From Buddhism: Introducing the Buddhist Experience, by Donald Mitchell. 
For educational purposes only.

Cagey's listening to

Cause and Effect - Innermost Station (1997)

Initiative

   I'm on blog lockdown until I cook up some more material for my classes. Friends, the light at the end of the tunnel (or 'L.A.T.E.O.T.T.') is flight from Mudville. Keep my eyes on the prize. Anyway, oh yes, initiative. I am wearing my workout gloves more often around the house, trying to bring back Jud Nelson's trend from The Breakfast Club (1985), that greatest of '80s movies from what arguably was the greatest year of the decade. Why did people do that? Were they weighted for combat? Besides keeping my hands warm and comfortable, if I need to lift heavy things, they're already on, and I just seem to have more power in everything, as with similar totems (G.I. Joe in my pocket, ring, crucifix, a tidy desk, etc.) I feel about 77% more effective. You know what I like about the change in seasons? More pockets. Brain's warmed up now. See you in a few days, feel free to drop a line.

Strength

The most difficult thing I ever had to do? Being the guy who never won in "tag", I used to think it was making the soccer team, and wanting to quit everyday after practice but not following through. Never having had the pleasure of having to run very far, we did these brutal things called "120s" in which we'd sprint to one end of the field (120 yds.) and then jog back, rest a few seconds, and do it again. Exhausted and dehydrated, we'd go to 7-11 after and load up on Snapples, Gatorades, and chug-a-lug. --- However, no, I think one of the tough things was listening to a tape of my late pa, who with me presumably on his knee at the time said, "We'll never abandon you." That tape sat on my desk for months since the first time I tried to listen to it, the second wasn't so bad. I guess I have never had a good sense for time, how it heals and restores. History has always seemed so abstract to me outside of the moment. Five years ago, ten years ago, the 200+ years of the U.S. I read about in books (just finished reading about President Hamilton's and Vice President Burr's pistol duel - Good Heavens, how does time obscure these things?) and the 2,000+ years A.D. Abstract, but all very real, the sum of those events ending in today. Just some half-finished thoughts, but I promised myself I'd get this put down, and what I set out to say is buried somewhere in the middle.

Cagey's listening to

Lesser known bands who contributed to Karate Kid III (1989)




In a Trance - Money Talks



Listen to your Heart - The Little River Band



Walls That Bend - Jude Cole
(His "First Impression" from the KKIII soundtrack unavailable)

Commitment

This photograph documents the sad end to my golf shoes.  I had these shoes tucked away in my golf bag, a pair of freebies I never realized came with a great set of clubs I bought from a friend.  When I made my discovery early this summer, I was proud: no longer would I have to be seen around the country club wearing a pair of New Balance cross-trainers.  I was finally part of society. 

They'd been sitting for years inside a zippered pocket on the golf bag, a kind of void space forming the structure of the bag in which you'd never think to look.  The last recesses of original hull construction they look on a ship before calling off a man overboard search.  So, for years these shoes sat in the garage, from Maryland to San Diego, from San Diego to Mudville, waiting for someone to need them.  When I found them, I was delighted to give them new life.  I lovingly polished them with a bit of white polish, covering the scuff marks, going around and around the toes with that perfect measure of pressure, and treating them as well as I did my favorite dress shoes.  "Wow, Nikes.  Probably at one time $150."  I thought of the story of the The Velveteen Rabbit, or How Toys Become Real, by Marjorie Williams.  So many allegories... 

They'd seen the course once or twice before with their previous owner, maybe they were a bit neglected.  After a game or two, I noticed the sole on the right shoe was coming loose.  "Nothing I couldn't patch up back at home with a good gob of fabric glue," I muttered. 

Good as new.  They went around another game or two, enjoying their newfound life and covering a lot of ground.  But the years in the heat had taken their toll on them, as I found on hole number three at the Metro Golf Course on a soggy early afternoon, the swankiest place in town (one of Mudville's neighbors where you're actually expected to wear a belt and tuck in your shirt).  "Bernie, these shoes are falling apart, I might have to call it quits early."  Every step I took, the top of the right sole would smack up to the bottom of the stitching (or whatever that correlates to in the anatomy of a shoe) making a loud "CLOP CLOP" report.  "Keep playing, when it falls off you can go home."  So every step walking to my ball from the cart path was "CLOP ped CLOP ped CLOP ped CLOP ped."  Boy, it was soggy out there.  Then, the bottom of the left sole did the same, so it was, "CLOP CLOP CLOP CLOP CLOP."  No reactions from anyone, oh well, keep playing. 

When the right sole was almost done, I showed it to Bernie again, who helped me by taking a firm grip on it and ripping it off.  My shoe didn't seem in any pain.  So I played like that for a little while, and then the left sole - just fell off on its own.  Now I was just playing with the leather and cloth and stitches on the bottom of each shoe, kind of in the manner of construction of rock-climbing shoes.  I was happy because I could now run to the ball without worry, it was kind of "combat golf" that day: I would make a crappy shot and then run to the ball to keep a good pace with the more experienced guys.  A good workout nonetheless; we weren't allowed to drive onto the fairways because of the rain so I logged a good couple hundred yards of jog/sprints that day. 

Without warning, on the right foot, I could see my toes sticking out, but I stuck with it (them?).  We were nearing the end of the last hole, and this was no time to throw in the towel. Finally, I ended up taking off the right shoe, and playing with only one shoe and a sock.  Then in my socks.  But I didn't give up, and my shoes didn't give up on me.  A little apprehensive about disapproving snorts from anyone who might see us in this state, I still felt good about not quitting.  Nonetheless barefoot , I realized that maybe there should be more dignity involved.  "Come on shoes, this place isn't good enough for us.  I'm taking you home."

Protest malaise strikes Mudville



(Click to embiggen)

   What a cartoon!  This diagram has a large amount of truth to it, from everything I'm hearing.  Interesting, but only modestly so in the past few weeks.  We have political malaise - don't know what the protests are angry about except Wall St.  Are they mad about the mass bailouts?  Not really.  Are they mad about the government spending us into oblivion?  Not particularly.  They don't appear to have a cause.  They're loud.  If they're against The Fed, they have my attention.  One skinny-jeans hipster did unspeakable things to a police car.  I saw a poster in downtown Awfulk protesting something, but nobody seemed to care. 

   Keep in mind these questions:  Are the protestors being manipulated?  What are their motives?  Why are the liberals praising them, but lambasting the Tea Party, who's driving force was the most earnest desire to unfudge [expletive redacted] the hemorrhaging economy?

Article: The BBC fails (to understand the Tea Party movement)

   A perspective looking outside-in can always be useful to pry us free from our customary sources.  Look how every aspect of life is now micro-managed in Britain (see 'Nanny State' at right), then look back to the U.S.  Then "wash, rinse, repeat." 

Excerpt:

The British generally and the BBC in particular have a real problem understanding the obsessive suspicion in which the power of central government is held in the US. This is not some funny redneck eccentricity: it is fundamental to the Constitution which gives individual states much greater sovereignty than the countries of the European Union enjoy.

   Source: http://blogs.telegraph.co.uk/news/janetdaley/100052632/the-bbc-completely-fails-to-understand-the-tea-party-movement/

Journalism's big black eyes: Does anybody remember when...?

 
   Journalism is predictable: it's full of "strategery" and hot-tempered. That's part of why I left. I'm thinking about the highs and lows since last fall, which invariably are crowded out of the public conciousness within the span of a week or two.  For example: the big shock of summer 2010, the JournoList, never to be mentioned again, seemed to expose the major rift between illiberal leftist journalism and mainstream U.S. society.  The rabble-rabble-rousers quickly abandoned the JournoList scandal (take a peek over at BigJournalism.com) and oozed on over to WikiLeaks for the time being, but the issues remain...

   Information is lined up like chess pieces. The JournoList actively discussed smearing public figures (Palin, etc.) from the safe tower of the "Fourth Estate." What happens to them now? It's a blip on the radar. According to blogger Trevor Loudon, "At least a few, perhaps many, were committed Marxists who saw journalism, not as a profession, but as a revolutionary tool." Or, people leap to conclusions, demanding blood. "Sherrod at USDA is a racist." The police officer acted "stupidly."

   And what happened to the outrage over WikiLeaks? Not one, not ten, but NINETY THOUSAND documents compromised? Well, founder Ass-ange under house arrest, but not really under lock and key for his treachery of the western world, but awaiting possible extradition for an easy gotcha of sexual assault.  Why do they always try to take down the big fish with secondary charges?  To bank away time while the legal beagles work out the details on making the larger case stick?  I don't understand how this cretin still lives.  Another imponderable is how the right is temporarily misleading itself on the legitimate termination of Anwar al-Awlaki  earlier this month. And any American daring to champion Wikileaks deserves to be tarred and feathered.
  I wish we placed the same importance on civics as we did the LeBron James decision... seriously.  Remember that one?  Over the span of a year, he went from hero to zero to hero after he left the Cavs for the Heat.  (Remember the Ohioan gaggle led by the Governor himself that begged him to stay as if he were a religious figure...?)  Now he's doing self-deprecating McDonald's commercials while ESPN does the PR analysis (Unbelievable.)  I guess you have to come up with lo-o-o-ts of filler to round out the 24 hr. infotainment cycle.

Flotsam and jetsam

Hey now! I need to write early when I'm milling about waking up, or late at night when, unfortunately, I have the most energy.

LT Poopers just finished cleaning my morning yogurt cup and I'm checking my news feed.

So in the news... not sure what all the hullaballoo is about Steve Jobs' passing. (R.I.P., by the way.) Was he like Bill Gates, who defied convention and succeeded wildly after he eschewed "traditional" education? (Which today, doesn't hold a candle to a classical college education). A nobleman? A visionary? Anything more than a grand corporateer? Why have 14 people on my Facebook made some kind of comment? The first few probably were those that wanted to "scoop" everyone. The next wave, just looking for an excuse to use the bullhorn. A few geeks were legitimately disturbed.

UPDATE:  O.k., Steve Jobs was cool.   (LINK)  He hung out with the Hare Krishnas across town, walking 7 miles for his meal.  He did leave college, but only because it was overpriced (bonus points), and only took a $1 yearly salary since 1997 (major cool). 

~~
Speaking of corporateers, in my section of Mudville, we have several cookie-cutter "big box" style pet stores already, and across the street some new pet superstore is going up. Why?  Monstrous concrete plazas teem with Harris Teeter and Walgreen's.  How many huge pet stores and drug stores do we need in the same 5 mi. radius? This is why people call southeastern Virginia "Strip Mall Hell."

For the sake of revenue, the city council in tandem with the real estate owners have deemed it necessary to choke the life out of a small Shell gas station that had been run by the same family for 41 years - and replace it with another Walgreen's. Their rationale was about the corniest thing I've ever heard:  that this promotes the "live/work/play environment" we strive for.  G*d, what, is this The Sims? Enough is enough - so ugly, so tacky. We're lucky we haven't named it "towne centre" yet, which inevitably follows in the cycle of snobbishness. 

Keep the little guys in play - do your part to support them.  As to the pet store sitrep - I have at least FOUR massive pet stores within five miles of me. To be fair, the new one is a privately owned local franchise, so I will support it.  We sag, we lag, our industry and production is nearly completely foreign-based, efficiency ordered, convenience centered.  So as an appropriately placed reminder of what's lurking up-river:

"China has enjoyed a long time running a massive trade surplus against the united states and other countries and as the country has grown fat with our money and we have grown fat on their cheap goods the American people are hurting for jobs and low wages and it is time for the free ride to be over." ~roguepatriot 

No big box post would be complete witthout letting it be known that we welcome our new Big Box overlords! Down with creativity and self-enterprise! Up with live-work-play "towne centre" concrete oasis with Walgreen's at the heart! 

We have it good. But we also have it bad. We are living the lives of leisure and comfort that our parents and their parents and so on wished for us. No full comment from here yet on all these micro-protests being staged ("Occupy Wall Street") but they're getting a lot of negative publicity.  Lots of self-contradiction (capitalism vs. mandates for freebies), lots of confusion, lots of shilling for propagandists like George Soros.
~~
So here's some bachelorrific stuff to end on: Last night approx. 11:00 P.M., I went to work on repairing the sh!tter, which is leaking at a slow rate, leaving a high water mark on the sides. I did this while listening to Wes Craven's Swamp Thing, then I marveled at the synchonicity of these two events.

I fixed a heavy frying pan today which was warped at the center (dented outward) and did not distribute the heat evenly. I lamented at not having a hammer handy to do this.  So I put it on the countertop upside down, and smacked it with a palm heel.  Suddenly, this confirmed my status as a man.  Still can't cook fried chicken worth a **** though.

As I tossed out the empty package of roasted vegetables, which had been used to top my fried chicken sandwich, the container splattered leaving olive oil trickling down the wall.  LT Poopers needed a little bit of guidance, but she was able to mostly lick the wall clean, and that spared me from wetting down a sponge and doing it myself.  I'd like to thank my parents on up for affording me this privilege.