Pickled Eggs

Good Morning

As a child in the 40s & 50s, we ate a lot of different things at home, many of them home canned or pickled. It is entirely possible that the time and place my parents were raised would have had an influence on that.  My Mom grew up on a small farm with seven other brothers and sisters in North Eastern Nebraska and in the house where my Grandmother Arp gave birth to her in 1915. 

Magnet School 1925

Magnet School 1925

Times were… well let’s just say different then, and being self-sufficient more prevalent than today.  There was a General Store a country mile away in the little town of Magnet, (est. 1893) along with a Post Office, Methodist Church on the corner, City Park, Jail House, Grain Mill next to the railroad tracks, Livery and Service Station, and the Magnet School (K-12) where mom walked to every school day for 12 years.  (Mom is front row, third from the left.  She is 10 years old in the photo.)

 When you lived on a farm in the mid-west back then, you used everything you produced.  I’ve heard stories, but never experienced even a fraction of what they did.  Of course there were fresh vegetables from the garden and there were always fresh eggs from the hen house along with some of the freshest fried chicken (in bacon grease) you have ever tasted, once you lopped its head and plucked it clean of feathers and innards.  The bacon grease came from the pig that you raised, slaughtered, butchered, and cured the hams, bacon and other bits and pieces.  This was done mostly in the winter where the meat could be stored in a small room upstairs set aside as a cooler and where items would stay cold if not frozen.  Pickling and canning was the way of preserving food where refrigeration was not available and then storing these things in the storm cellar.  When you lived in Tornado Alley, (Magnet has been hit twice by tornados) you had a storm cellar which also doubled as a food cellar since the temperature was stable and cooled from the earth around it, food would keep longer, albeit a bit dark unless you lit the kerosene lamp. 

  Mom knew how to bake, cook, cure, can and pickle from the time she was a small girl and I was one of the beneficiaries of the products from those skills.  It always seemed that we had canned fruit and veggies around, but as she got older and the family smaller there was less and less of it.  Of course, in the 50s when I was in my adolescence and later a teenager, the last thing I wanted to learn were those skills, for there were more important things in my myopic world.  So, I didn’t… and in retrospect, I now realize I missed a golden opportunity to learn from a master of her craft.

 For years mom would make pickled eggs with a little bit of liquid smoke for flavor.  She has been gone from us now for close to a decade and I realized the other day that I was missing those eggs.  It also could have been her that I was missing or those times, as well as the eggs and like and anchor that ties us to another time I needed to placate the condition and conger up a jar or two.

 They are really pretty simple to make as long as you are willing to spend the time.  Here is how to do it:

  • 1 – Quart – Mason Jar w/Lid  [I like the old looking kind with the wire latches]
  • 1 – Pint – White Vinegar
  • 1 – Dozen – Large Eggs
  • 1 – Table Spoon – “Wright’s Liquid Smoke Mesquite Flavor
  • ¼ – Tea Spoon – Table Salt
  • (Optional and highly recommended)
  • 2 – 2” Jalapeño Peppers – 1-Green & 1-Orange, sliced in 1/8” rounds.
Pickled Eggs

Pickled Eggs

To Do:

  •  Hard-boil the eggs (25 min.) peel and wash.
  • Place eggs in Mason Jar or a 1 quart jar of your choice, taking care to create an organized appearance.
  • (Add peppers during this time for even distribution and appearance.)
  • Add White Vinegar to cover eggs
  • Add Liquid Smoke
  • Add Salt
  • Cap the jar and gently turn it upside down a few times to stir up the salt and smoke.
  • Place in refrigerator to keep them cool.
  • Ready to eat in 3 days and they get better after that.

 The Jalapeño Peppers add more flavor than heat and is a variation from what my Mom’s used to be.  Certainly worth a try to see if you like them better.  I know they are nothing like picked pigs feet, (something we also ate) but these guys go great with beer and the like. 

 So there you have it.  Live the adventure and try it, you just may like it.

 Love, Dad

Photo Credits:

Magnet School from my mom’s photo alblum.

Pickled Eggs: Mine, but feel free to use it.

      

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Pumpkin Carve “09”

Peace OutGood Morning,

Well we did it!  Jumped into Halloween with both sandals, so to speak.  In last weeks letter I was talking about the history and roots of the holiday, but I left out the much important “kid factor”.  After all without the kids, it would be just some stuffy ol’ “All Hallows Eve” and not much fun unless that kind of thing floats your boat.  Of course with all the “Goth” around, there probably are a few that would be clam happy, but that stuff is way too serious for me.  For Jeanie and I, it was a “trip” back to the early 70s and a time of less responsibilities let’s say.  It didn’t take much to feel right at home in our garb, actually, kind of scary when you think about it.  Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but stepping back into an earlier time is always kind of fun and certainly an escape from present.  [BTW, those are pants I bought in the 70s.]

So, the now “Annual Pumpkin (Cucurbita) Carve” at the Jr. Longs went very off well and all of theThe Fray candidates for Jack-O-Lantern, in the end, received their candles to light up the night with some pretty weird faces.   It had been a while since I had reached my hand inside of a pumpkin, but when I did, it all came back.  All the “gooshy” mass of strings and seeds generously splayed around the inside cavity then wrapping your hand around a glob of the damp “innards” and feeling it ooze out between your fingers as you pull and tug to free it from the walls, is an experience like few others.  Unless you clean out the inside yourself, it is hard to cliam it, as your own.  I consider it a “Rite of Passage” leading to the next steps of carving a personality unique to your alter ego.

Ellie Hands Full It may be interesting to do a study paralleling Jack-O-Lantern carvers with their creations.  I wonder what that would reveal.  If you make a scary face, does that mean you are somehow scared inside?  Does a happy face reflect a happy person or is it covering up something else?  How about a sinister face, or a comic face, or no face at all, but a design?  Second thought, maybe it would be better not to analyze this too much and just go with it.

 With close to 20 pumpkins in the fray, one can only imagine the variety of faces and personalities ultimately represented.  Sure it is messy and sure you are going to get “pumpkin guts” on you, but your reward is a ephemeral creation that you can call your own, unique to this world, simply because you made it with your own hands.  To some, these may be little things, but even the little things add up and after all, when you think about it, life is made up of the “little things”.Jeanie Carving

 Tonight, our Jack-O-Lanterns will grace our front stoop and while there are rarely any Trick-or-Treaters in our neighborhood, they will greet whoever frequents our door.

 Happy Halloween and let the kid out tonight.

 Love, Dad

Photo Credits: Mine

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Halloween ~ Boo

Jack-O-LanternGood Morning,

Halloween is this Saturday night and the signs of the occasion are everywhere.  There is little you cannot find to celebrate the occasion from candies and treats for the “Trick or Treaters”, decorations indicative of the holiday, to costumes that fulfill your esoteric need to express your alter ego without being considered completely “mental” or acting the fool.  Actually when I think about it, once a year may be just enough to placate that need and for some could be a excellent fill-in between Star Trek and Star Wars conventions and the like.

 According to Wikipedia, (one of my very favorite sources) “Halloween has origins in the ancient Gaelic festival known as Samhain, which is derived from Old Irish and means roughly “summer’s end”.

 “The celebration has some elements of a festival of the dead. The ancient Gaels believed that the border between this world and the Otherworldbecame thin on Samhain, allowing spirits (both harmless and harmful) to pass through. The family’s ancestors were honoured and invited home whilst harmful spirits were warded off. It is believed that the need to ward off harmful spirits led to the wearing of costumes and masks. Their purpose was to disguise oneself as a harmful spirit and thus avoid harm.”That and a plethora of other information about Halloween is available on the web, if you want to spend the time. 

 I have discovered that there are few that are actually ambivalent about the holiday and are either “for it” or “want nothing to do with it”.   I suppose that as we get older and our understanding of such holidays deepen, it can become difficult to retain or maintain the innocence we had as a child and just enjoy the moment.  I suspect it is kind of like what has happened to Santa Claus and The Easter Bunny.  In creeps that ol’ Adultitusthing again.  I think some of this disdain with Halloween would be that seeing all of the Ghost, Goblins, and Skeletons running around may be unsettling for some by reminding us that there “may just be” a “spiritual world” of the secular.  After all, we tend to fear things we do not understand.

 At this stage of the game (game of life), I believe I will choose to enjoy this moment and not let my age interfere with “letting the kid out” just one more time.  So this year, I will figure out a costume to wear, not too extreme, carve a pumpkin into a Jack-O-Lantern with my very best effort and then enjoy this moment with the ones who’s innocence has not yet beIcabod Craneen tarnished by too many adult facts.  And maybe… if I’m really lucky, sometime during the evening, I will get a glimpse of Icabod Crane being chased by the Headless Horseman through Sleepy Hollow.  That would be great!

 Happy Halloween

 Love, Dad

Photo Credits:

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Lucky Charms

Good Morning,

Lucky Charms PosterLucky Charms…where do they come from?  If your first thought was General Mills or your local grocery store, then you probably have had kids around the house at some time.  While I think every adult should eat a bowl of this concoction at least once a year as sort of a “booster shot” against Adultitis, it isn’t really what this letter is about although that could be one for another time.

 I was thinking more about items that we consider being lucky, bringing luck or just wishing luck to happen.  Of course this kind of thing, mostly based in superstitions, has been going on since the first humans could imagine “what could be” as an escape from “what is”.  Not a bad thing really, as when we wish for something that is yet to be, I believe that in some small way, we set ourselves up to create the circumstances to make it happen.  Diligence in this case is the key to success.  That is pretty much the basis for “The Secret” if you are into that kind of thing.  Looking into this subject a bit more, I found that some charms seem to come and go with changes in societies, religions and our understanding of the world around us. 

Swastika

Swastika

 A good example and one of the most powerful changes caused by society is the use of the Swastika.  For millennium before Adolph and his band of “Nazi” followers came into power, the Swastika was used all over the world by different cultures as a symbol of good luck.  Now anyone, at least of my generation and our parents, look upon the symbol and are reminded of the atrocities imposed on many.   It is kind of a pity really, because the symbol itself has a certain symmetry that lends itself well to beading and weaving.  Which could have been one of the reasons it was popular with ancient cultures all over the world.  I guess its luck ran out when it was miss-used by such a few.

 Like a lot of people in the “50s” when it was popular and many years before, actually traced back to about 600 BC in now Great Brittan, Rabbit's FootI had a Rabbit’s Foot on my keychain for “Good Luck”.  Unlucky for the rabbit…lucky for me…not sure how that was suppose to work.  Actually, when I think about it over the years I probably had enough of these amulets in different colors of course, but mostly blue, to re-tread a whole rabbit.  Come to think of it that would make quite a picture, a rabbit with two blue feet a pink one and maybe a red one to complete the ensemble.  Why would I keep an animal body part as good luck?  Well it must have been because I believed it would do just that, but I cannot to this day understand why I believed that.  Maybe it was cultural influence of the times.  It certainly wasn’t because I was a member of PETA, since it wasn’t formed until 1980.  I suppose that is when people started frowning at you when you would pull out your keychain with that chunk of Leporidae dangling from it.  Maybe I stopped carrying it when the chain broke.  I don’t think it was because I was afraid of being doused with a can of red paint.

 Well at least there is one tradition that still is in effect today, that with the right belief system will bring good luck and may even make Wish Bone Snappedwishes come true.  Besides “wishing on a star” of course, it is the ol’ dependable “Wish Bone”.  Even as a young child I always looked forward to the pulling of the wishbone with my sister.  Another amulet of “Good Luck”, which has managed to survived the changes of society.  I can only hope it will last as long as I do.  I hope so, because even at this age I still enjoy a “Good Break” now and then.  BTW, the left side was mine in the photo, now if only my wish will come true.

 Whatever you choose your “Lucky Charm” to be, it is a good thing to keep a bit of whimsy alive in your life.  It can’t hurt and remember, there is much more out there than we will ever know.

 Love, Dad

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Worst of Times, Best of Times

Charles Dickens

Charles Dickens

Good Morning,

A quote: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times; it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness; it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity; it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness; it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair; we had everything before us, we had nothing before us; we were all going directly to Heaven, we were all going the other way.”

 Good grief…not another one quoting Dickens.  Ok, ok, but it is still one of the…if not the very best, opening lines to a story ever.

 Many of us “had to read “, The Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens when in High School.  Frankly, I wasn’t much into good literature back then, so I will have to read it again to fully appreciate it.  Maybe because I was a slow reader (still am), or maybe because I was into other things like art, drafting and architecture, or maybe it was the occasional fabrication of a rocket or bomb, which seemed to interest me much more.  Yes I did my fair share of amateur pyrotechnics, but that is for another time.  Of course girls were in the mix somewhere as well, but that interest developed more as I gained in years.  I seem to remember that I won the literature teacher over by building a miniature guillotine as a gift and then managed to pass the class (barely).  I was better with my hands than my gray matter.  So unfortunately, at least in some ways, I missed out on many of the gems of great literature that would have helped sharpen my perception of life in the years to come.  I believe it is not just that you read, while that in itself is good, but what you read which helps shape your sensitivity and understanding of new experiences, acquaintances and practically everything you chance across on this magical road we are all on.  I read much more now than I did even 20 years ago and as I do, I realize that some of this shared wisdom, I could have used some 50 years ago when I was in school.  It’s that hindsight thing again.  Unfortunately, I have had to learn much of it through another school, which is much less forgiving than my strictest teacher ever was while in K-12.

 Anyway, few will dispute me when I say Charles Dickens was a master at his craft and the first lines of “The Tale of Two Cities” seems to apply and re-apply again and again through time from the days of the French Revolution, Civil War, World Wars, Depression of the 30s, the 60s up and into the present day.  Especially present day.  The paradox in each segment is what I find brilliant.  So for what it is worth, here is my take on it.

 “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”  It is when times are most difficult that we seem to come together in family and community to help each other and that is when we see pure human spirit of caring and love most prevalent, which are the best things we can be as a people.  Those times then become, through adversity, the best of times.

 “It was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness.”  It is foolishness that has gotten many of us where we are fiscally at this age, but it is the wisdom gained from and during this experience that will guide us forward to the next.

 “It was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity.”  It is the distrust in our government, the market and institutions brought on by greed of the few that has affected the many.  By maintaining belief in ourselves and what we stand for, we then have the right to demand it in our public servants.

 “It was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness.”   It is dark times for many as terrorism becomes part of daily life.  Even in America we have to be diligent, yet as we evaluate what we call evil in the world, the actions of a few just reinforce the need for a new light of understanding and acceptance of others that share this planet. 

 “It was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.”   It is disparaging for many as times of depression can take a toll, but which can also be the trigger for changes bringing new hope and opportunities that would have not happened any other way.

 “We had everything before us, we had nothing before us.”    It may seem that this is the end of the world for some and there is nothing to look forward to, but never in human history has there been so much advancement on all aspects of making our lives better and longer.  We are fortunate to be living in these times for the bad times will pass as they always do and we will have once again everything before us.

 “We were all going directly to Heaven, we were all going the other way.”   It must have been prohibitive for Dickens to use “Hell” in text back then.  I guess I could write a whole letter on this one.  Maybe I will leave it this way.  Let’s just say that if you “believe”, then that is where you will end up and the rest of the infidels will go to the Hell they deserve for not believing the way you do.  Of course, depending who you are and what you believe, must then determine the fate of the rest of us.  It gets complicated from there, but it could be the truest of statements.  See what I mean. 

 So…had I read a bit more “back then”, who knows, I maybe could have been high enough up the proverbial “influence ladder” to not be concerned about those of us graveling around in the muck of the times.  But then again, I think I’m in pretty good company of real friends and that is worth more than all of the plastic ones there are.

 Bucket List: Read “The Tale of Two Cities” one more time with feeling right after Plato. 

 Love, Dad

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Lucky Skinny Piggy

skinny_piggy_bankGood Morning,

Friday was my 64th birthday.  I suppose being perpendicular at “64” is reason enough to celebrate when I consider the number of my friends and relatives who are now forever horizontal or ashes in a jar.  “64” wasn’t really a significant number like “60” or “65” for it is one of those in-between numbers that kind-of-says you are not quite there yet or you’ve already been there, so get over it.  Still, each year seems to be a little more “interesting” than the last, seemingly meticulously woven by some higher power into a tapestry of unique challenges of the fiscal and material, physical and mental, social and austere, all the time keeping me wondering what the next year will possibly bring.  I can tell you with a great degree of confidence that this year is not one I would have wanted to have experienced, say when I was “34” or “44” or even “54”, as I am sure I would not have been prepared for it without the experience of the previous ones.  Nope, not even a little bit.

I’m not saying that this time between “63” and “64” has been bad or good, but I would prefer to rather refer to it as just “interesting”.  I don’t think there was much about it I could have single-handedly changed.  The economy in the dumpster has affected just about every aspect of my life as it has for most of us.  From what, or if, I take home for pay each week from the business, to how we shop or even to what we eat.  It becomes a constant juggling act of who gets what or if at all.  I am now beginning to understand a bit more about what shaped the manners of my parents when it came to financial issues and why my grandfather never trusted banks or stocks after loosing most of his money when they crashed, for they were there in the 30s and the affect was profound enough to follow them to the grave.  I am beginning to understand maybe even more than I wanted to know and along with it has come the loss of innocence and trust in such institutions.

Add to that a few too many health issues for my liking from head to toe, some which come with this age, some from genetic propensity, while the others can be considered normal maintenance with the repair, replacement or removal of various bits and pieces like bumps, lumps and teeth, but all made more significant without the benefit of health insurance.  I can tell you that being in the hospital is scary enough, but being in the hospital without health insurance, well that is a whole new level of scary, for it affects every aspect of getting better and the aftermath.  Recovery becomes much more than just getting physically better as it extends to the fiscal as well, which goes well beyond feeling better.

Having a life partner in all of this helps and after all these years there isn’t much that together we cannot get through.  Of course there is that aspect as well, since like myself, my mate also has interesting times as well.  Personal challenges, mental, physical and medically all requiring attention coupled with changes in lifestyle.  These all get stirred into the pot to make a soup of this life like no other.

Where am I going with all of this?  It could be a bit depressing if you choose to look at it that way.  I think it needs a different spin for “it is what it is” and if I cannot change it, then what is left is how I accept and respond to times like these, which have a lot to do with the outcome.

I guess the first thing one has to do is say what is the worst that can happen?

  • Well the business could close.  If it did, we would most likely start another with a different approach to the market and certainly different procedures when it came to the fiscal.  I have “God Given” talents I haven’t even tapped yet, so I may have to fire some of those up.
  • We could lose our house.  Well a house does not make a home and as long as we have each other it doesn’t really matter where we live.  Maybe a simpler life is what we need right now anyway.  Who knows, maybe one with wheels.
  • We could lose our health.  That is a bit tougher and probably the most important to hang on to, for without it not much else matters.

I was reminded on Friday that I am lucky in so many ways and none of them tangible.

  • I have a wife of 33 years who loves me more than anything else, including our dog.
  • I have three children who love and respect me as a father and also as a friend.
  • I have a better than most relationship with each of their spouses which I consider very special.
  • I have three sisters who I love and who’s relationship I hold very dear.
  • I have three grandchildren who while they are busy being who they are, still show me love in their way.
  • I also have children (grown now) that have chosen to adopt me as “Dad” or “Pop” which I am honored every day to have that kind of love.
  • I have friends who share my life because they want to and not because I have lots of money or shower them with gifts, but just because we enjoy each other’s company.
  • I have family outside of the immediate that I can share my roots with and know where from which I came.
  • I have a great opportunity to lose some weight.

All of this, money cannot buy.  It has to be given freely and is not dependent on where you live or how much you make.  It is not connected to the material.

That is a wonderful thing.  I consider myself very lucky in an otherwise unlucky economy.

Love, Dad

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The Overdue Ride

Sr FLHTCU RedGood Morning,

Last weekend, after five years of talking about it, Jon Jr. a friend Jason and I finally got to do a “Harley Ride” together.  Up to this point it has been either he or I, on a ride, but never all.  I think with this kind of thing you have to ask yourself, when?  When were you planning to do this?  When is the right time?  When will I have the time?  I think now that if at all possible, I have to make the time to make the occasion.  Too many times we… well me at least… tend to put off the things that are really important and default to do the things that are more responsible.  Is there such a thing as being too responsible?  I suppose one never really knows that until the dust settles and hindsight once again rears its sagacious head.  Some may argue that one cannot be too responsible.  I prefer to think that there has to be a balance.  There has to be times when the Adultitus is blatantly pushed aside and we let the kid out.  The nice thing about kids is that they don’t have the responsibilities that adults do.  So the trick here is to find the balance and work at keeping it, but that is not what this letter is about.

We started out at about 2pm Saturday.  Now if you were around here on Saturday at 2pm, you no doubt would have noticed that it was 114 in the shade.  I’m pretty sure that riding a bike when it is 114, dry heat or not, is not a good idea.  After 40 minutes on the road I’m convinced of it and we had to re-hydrate. 

Empty parking Lot at the Hideaway Grill

Empty Parking Lot at the Hideaway Grill

We “hydrated” at the Hideaway Grill in Cave Creek.  Pulling into the bike parking area, which is usually packed and ours being the only bikes there, was a sign.  Having the bartender and one other person clap and cheer as we walked in was another sign that there were people possibly a bit smarter right then, than we were.  By the time we reached the bar, she had three large glasses of water waiting for us.  That’s hospitality in Arizona.  Sixty-four ounces and 45 minutes later and I am starting to feel my feet, so it’s on the road again and another HOT hour to Wickenburg

Jon Jr & Jason

Jon Jr & Jason at the Mecca Cantina

Once again, and I might say none-to-soon, it’s time to re-hydrate at the Mecca Cantina in Wickenburg. I’m beginning to like this, ride-a-little, stop-a-little, ride-a-little, stop-a-little, repeat.

Now comes the payoff, for as we leave Wickenburg and head up hi-way 89 it starts to cool a bit and I’m pretty sure it is only about a 100.  It is into the hills and out of the desert and along with that comes “curves”.  When you are on a bike, curves are the fun stuff and 20 & 25 mph curves are the best!  There is no hurry here for after all it is the “ride and not the destination” when you are on a bike.  The four “Ss”, Sights, Sounds, Smells and Sensations come into play and it is almost like a drug that keeps you coming back for more.  Maybe it is that perfect mix of the ocular, aural, olfactory, and ambiance all stirred together in a pot of adrenaline with just a dash of risk on top to make this the “perfect soup” for the occasion.  I’m sure many of us have seen shirts on “those that ride” that have the saying “If I Have To Explain, You Wouldn’t Understand.”  There are few things I have experienced in my life that equal the feeling of freedom and exhilaration of being out there on a bike.

It gets cooler as my ears tell me that we are climbing in altitude and it is no longer a feat of endurance.  The curves progressively get more intense and are served with a generous view across the valley below that is nothing short of stellar.  It is apparent that we are now riding into “Gods Country” with the view of mountains on each side; the sounds of Cicadas intermittently filling the air as we pass by, the smell of pines, wood burning fireplaces and the sensations and rhythm of the engine vibrating through my body as they all blend together to create a state of wellbeing in my very soul.  For the moment, I am free.

We arrive in Prescott to a cool 60 something degrees and I am already starting to look forward to the ride home tomorrow and the adventures it will bring.  The withdrawals start as soon as the V-Twin is turned off. 

Now it is time to experience Prescott on a Saturday night.  I highly recommend The Prescott Brewing Company and the Raven Cafe for great food, brews and just a great place to be on a Saturday night. 

Lesson: Make the time, to spend the time, to experience this little time that we have.

Love, Dad

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The Lucky Bamboo

Lucky Bamboo?

Lucky Bamboo?

For the last few weeks I’ve noticed a subtle change in an otherwise normalcy of the flora and fauna inside our house.  Everyday now, little by little things seem to be getting worse with one and I cannot seem to understand why and now I am starting to get mildly concerned.  So what does it mean when the “Lucky Bamboo” in your bathroom starts to die?  I’m left to ponder…does it know something I don’t?  Is it the proverbial canary in the coalmine?  Is there a higher power at work here and is this an ominous omen of odious and unspeakable things to come?  A portent of “luck lost” for the next seven years? (nah that’s a broken mirror)

"Digger"

"Digger"

Or is it the harbinger of something even more insidious…say, like the onset of a toenail fungus (onychomycosis) complete with an encore of “Digger” the “Dermatophyte” and all of his half-cousins setting up their “Crib” under the freshly pedicured nail of my big toe.

Well, ok, that may be a bit over the top, but still, the quandary…should I be concerned?  Maybe, it is remotely possible that I inadvertently offended a Wiccan and therein garnered a bad luck spell that is now slowly killing my “Lucky Bamboo”.  I don’t understand much about the Wicca form of religion and therefore I get suspicious.  I suppose that is normal and just part of human nature in that we tend to get superstitious about things we don’t understand.  After all when we fully understand something, there are no mysteries left. 

I don’t know about you, but while I like to know how things work, I have never enjoyed knowing how magic tricks are done, especially the really big ones.  To me, it is more fun to be amazed and entertained.  Just for that instant when the trick is done and there is this moment of whimsy and innocence rarely experienced in the day-to-day.

When do you uproot that plant that is dying?  Do you make that difficult choice while there is still green on the leaves, but the inevitable is at hand?  Then what if you were wrong and the plant was just going through a rough time and you in your haste jumped the gun?  Do you take the cautious approach and wait until you can snap it like a toothpick, then rip it out by the roots and righteously “hoop shoot” it into the round file?  The last option…maybe just ignore it and if you wait long enough someone else will do the dirty deed and that way there is no guilt.

 Well cursed or cursed not, I suspect there isn’t much hope left for my “Lucky Bamboo” who has seemed to run out of luck too soon and with a little luck, won’t take me with it.  Now soon, I will be faced with an empty vase and the dilemma of what to do with it.  Shall I provide a home for another “not so lucky bamboo” and be faced with going through this all over again, or relegate the vacant vase to the hall closet and in a few years have it and others similar, take the inevitable trip to the local Goodwill.

I know, you are probably thinking it is only a plant… just get over it, but remember, it is still a living thing for now.  Doesn’t that merit some consideration? 

So what would you do?

 Love, Dad

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Wishing on a Star

Good Morning,

As a young child, stars were something you marveled at, or wished upon and if you were lucky enough to see a shooting star, well that was really something special.

It comes to mind that Jiminy Cricket was part of these halcyon days when he sang, “When you wish upon a star” in the 1940
Jiminy Cricket-2 Disney movie Pinocchio.  The gist of the song was that when you wished upon a star, it made no difference who you are, your dreams would all come true.  What a wonderful thought and something a child could put their hopes on.  I wasn’t around when the movie first came out because, well… I wasn’t born until 1945, but the story and the song remain an embedded memory of my youth.  Maybe movies and stories stuck around longer back then.  We refer to them as “classics” now.  It was a time of innocence when the Moon was still made of cheese and Mars really did have “Martians”.

Later and as I grew older and wiser, my approach to all of this changed and as the sun would set I would watch the sky for the first star to appear.  (I later found out it was usually Venus) You had to be quick most times, as they would come out fast.  Seeing the first star, I would recite the invocation “Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight”.  I would then make a wish.  Of course the wishes would change over the years, but there was always hope that they would be fulfilled, especially when they concerned a girl.  I suppose the power of positive thinking played a part in the fulfillment of some of those wishes just as they would today.  Truth be known, I still recite it sometimes in my head.  It wouldn’t be “cool” for a guy to be doing that kind of thing out loud so keeping it in the head also keeps my family from having to have me committed.

It is kind of sad really when our childhood innocence is ripped away and we have to face the realities of the adult world.  When Marvin_The_Martianin 1969, Neil Armstrong’s footprint on the moon revealed to the world that it was really just covered with Moon Dust and the cheese along with the “Man in the Moon” had long since disappeared.  When the Mars Phoenix Lander revealed a rather unpopulated planet and “Marvin the Martian” was nowhere to be seen and most likely never was there.  When the Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny and Santa Claus all have retired to Florida and we back home are left the Dentist Bills, trips to the Veterinarian and Revolving Charge Accounts from Christmas Last…and when that star overhead is most likely a communication satellite repeating millions of Tweets, text messages and emails every second so we can stay in touch with ourselves, it becomes increasingly difficult to remember those times.

I’m not saying that I dislike technology…far from it, as that is how I have made my living for the past 46 years.  I actually embrace it maybe even more than most do, but with knowledge also comes the realities that like an acid dissolve the myths we had embraced in a simpler time.  As our lives become more complicated and we try to jam 25 hours into a day, it is sometimes important to step back, pause and maybe when no one is looking, to let the kid out.  Forget for even just a little while, the expected norms and be free from the cage of responsibility we managed to build for ourselves.  To quote Timothy Leary “Turn on, tune in and drop out”.  Unlike Timothy, you can actually do this without drugs, but it takes a bit of imposed irresponsibility, or at least, what would be perceived as irresponsibility by others to pull it off.

Who knows…maybe even wish upon a star.  After all, I’m convinced that there is a lot more out there than we will ever know, understand or for that matter even comprehend if we saw it.

If you have ever bought a lottery ticket, your odds are probably better with the star and like when you bought the lottery ticket, there is always hope, only the wish is free.

Love, Dad

Images: Jiminy Cricket – Disney   Marvin the Martian – Peacepipea

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People Watching

Coin Operated Binoculars

Good Morning,

 One of the things I enjoy doing is “People Watching”.  Not in the way that would make someone uncomfortable, (I have seen those kind) but just a casual thing.  Like sitting on a bench at a mall or waiting for a plane at the airport and just taking in the goings-on around you at the time.  While the hustle and bustle as a whole can be its own experience, it can also take on a much deeper meaning and feeling if you start to break it down into the parts.  By “parts” I mean the people or groups of people with what may be a common purpose.

 I think at those times it is important to remember that everyone has a story.  That each person you see, in so many ways, is not unlike yourself in that they too have likes and dislikes, joys and fears, dreams and realities, family, friends and maybe even a few that do not like them so much in their everyday life.  That apart from chance and the luck of the draw from the gene pool, the person could have been your brother, sister, mother, father or friend, well you get the idea.

Once you get beyond looking at people as objects and instead as real people, it is then possible to feel empathy.  With empathy the whole experience takes on a new depth of understanding.  For instance… 

  • The mother and daughter shopping together for school clothes she would never have worn herself, as she sees her daughter growing into a woman, the struggles she may be having within herself of letting go of this child into the world as she leaves the nest while feeling the daughters excitement and apprehension of starting a new school year. 
  • The two friends (BFF) sharing experiences over a Starbucks, as one appears to be relating with gesticulation a particularly funny moment, while the other with hand over mouth, contains a laugh.  I find myself wishing I knew the whole story, as it must be good. 
  • The little boy crying to his mom in an attempt to persuade her through the outburst to placate his desire for something he feels would fulfill his life at this moment.  She with chagrin and “parental love” works to dissuade the boy and bring less attention to the situation.  The mom wins and the little boy is left with displaying a bottom lip that a bird could perch.
  • The smartly dressed woman in a business suit walking at a pace not quite twice as fast as the other shoppers.  Carrying a briefcase, not smiling and obviously purpose driven, as she heads toward Nordstrom’s entrance.  Without a shopping bag I am left to assume she is some sort of exec or management on a mission.  Is someone getting the axe or is she just in search of the perfect new item to wear at the next meeting.  I am left wondering how often she does smile and what her life must be like in the “off hours” of her day.  Does she take time to laugh or is that something left behind in her youth.
  • The older man is sitting by himself on a bench outside of a woman’s clothing store.  Watching people walk by as he waits for his wife who is inside trying to decide what goes with what and if it will also go with what she already has or will new shoes and a purse be necessary to complete the ensemble.  He smiles as a mother and daughter pass by engrossed in conversation about what the “others” are wearing this year.  He glances across the way at tables set up in front of Starbucks and smiles as he notices the gestures and responses of two young girls talking.  His attention is drawn to a little boy and his mom in what appears to be a power struggle of control, as adult vs. child.  Feeling the stirring of the air as a smartly dressed woman intently talking on her cell phone, breezes by in front of him on what appears to be a mission as his attention moves away from the child and he now begins to contemplate the life and style of the woman.  The wife appears with her new find in bag, I get up from the bench and we continue our day.  Life goes on.    

 Try looking at others with empathy and you will be rewarded with a greater understanding and acceptance of them and yourself. 

 Love, Dad

Photo credit, Matti Matilla

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