Pure Ear Sugar

I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaack.

If any song could take you to another space and time. This is it...

Feel Flows

Thanks Carl Wilson and the rest of the Beach Boys.

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95 the new 45?

Here's a interview of John McCain and his mother Roberta on Meet the Press. What struck me about the interview is how unbelievably youthful Roberta looks.

Roberta is 95 years old.

Given this fact, note her posture, clarity of annunciation and sharpness of memory and wit. She really seems literally half her age in this interview.


I hope I'm as vital as she when I'm 95. If I make it.

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Happy Mother's Day

Here's to you moms

The world doesn't turn without you.

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What a ride!

This is the most awesome surfing I have ever seen!



There are only two things bigger than the wave this guy is riding.

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A really big cat.

This a photograph (with no graphics tricks) of a Liger, which is a cross between a male lion and a female tiger (the reverse is called a Tigon)

The folks in the picture with the animal clearly demonstrate it's scale. (Yes, I know they look like refugees from the movie Barbarella.)


Here is another picture of the cat standing: (over 12 feet)


This particular animal weighs over 900 lbs which is heavier than the combined weight of it's parents. Ligers can breed as well. Go here for more pictures.

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All men are brothers

Here's a list of how many people went into creating you.

The list goes back 30 generations (about 900 years - 30 years per gen.)

Keep in mind that there was only an estimated 320 million people on Earth around 1100 AD.

Gens Persons
back

0 1 (You)

1 2 (Your Parents)

2 4 (Your Grandparents)

3 8 (Your Great Grandparents)

4 16 (etc..).

5 32

6 64

7 128

8 256

9 512

10 1024

11 2048

12 4096

13 8192

14 16384

15 32768

16 65536

17 131072

18 262144

19 524288

20 1048576

21 2097152

22 4194304

23 8388608

24 16777216

25 33554432

26 67108864

27 134217728

28 268435456

29 536870912

30 1073741824

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Ever feel like this guy?

John Lithgow (Bigbooty?) from The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension (1984)


The best of pure camp!!!

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Are we alone? Ask Drake.

Go to this website to calculate the odds that extra-terrestrial civilizations exist in our galaxy.

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Napster link update.

I reset Internet Explorer (IE) to its default settings (Tool->Internet Options->Advanced Tab->Reset Button). This change has fixed the problem I was having with the Napster links in IE.

Of course I'm not sure which setting reset actually fixed the issue. If you want to maintain your settings (not do a reset) your on your own.

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Note about Napster links.

I seem to be having problems with the Napster links when in Internet Explorer (7.0). It's probably a security setting. I'm not having any problems with Firefox though. I'll post a work-around as soon as I figure this out. If any one has a suggestion, let me know.

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Go Napster!!!

Napster.com is now offering music sharing.

Here are a few tracks I've selected:

Summer Soft - Stevie Wonder

Somebody's Crying - Chris Isaak

Interstate Love Song - Stone Temple Pilots

Always There - Ronnie Laws

Use Me - Bill Withers


Technology is amazing isn't it?

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Hearts do mend

Fragile Heart

Hello fragile heart.

Don't recede in times of doubt,
For the love is there for you.

Take that step and again another.
And you will find it true.

The world may not concede
A path on broadened plains.

From painful depths you can ascend
And shuffle off your chains.

Take me on my word for this
It is something I've endured.

I've walked that bitter mile
Over broken glass I've toured.

True hearts fall and mend again
And this you will not change

It is the fabric of a life
A rolling mountain range.

Around each peak will lay a valley
The land where life plays out.

Life's only what you make it.
On this point never doubt.

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Masterpiece in 2 dimensions

Mascagni's Cavalleria Rusticana Intermezzo in opening scene of Scorcese's Raging Bull

This ain't a opening scene, it's a masterpiece!
- Growdasky - (Youtube poster)



Thanks Martin.

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Gene "Hip-Hop" Kelly

I love this commercial of Gene Kelly dancing in contemporary fashion.


Aren't computers great!

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Chemistry

Crude but effective advertising. Also one of the funniest commercials I've ever seen.


Too bad they pulled the plug on this one.

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Lookin' out my back door.

Little Plum Tree

Little plum tree sing a song for me.
Sunny skies await to join your reverie.

Your leaves alight in brilliant hues
Of chartreuse shades that do refuse

To let you hide your beauty from my eyes.


Little plum tree spread your branches wide
Catch each ray of sun through mottled clouds has spied.

Make a home for the lonely dove
A nest she makes for spring's true love.

And waits for sweetened fruit to softly fall.


Little plum tree you are a gift from God.
From earth you rise to bow where angels do applaud.

All around you sway gentle friends
Touch the lemon tree whose love she sends.

And let's you know you'll never be alone.


Little plum tree enjoy this season's day
Embrace the sun till skies go cold and grey.

Another friend you've made in me
As I've watched you grow into the tree.

That caught my eye and in my heart does grow.

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The Facts Of Life:

--On average, you have 2,475,576,000 seconds on Earth. (--In years, that makes you 78-and-a-half years old.)

--As a baby you used 3,796 diapers.

--You'll cry 15 gallons worth of tears.

--You'll have RELATIONS 4,200 times. (--That's an average of around 80 times every year from age 18 through 70)

--You'll eat 10,866 carrots and 10,354 chocolate bars.

--You'll know 10 people who commit suicide, nine who die in car accidents and one who dies in a fire.

--If you're a smoker, you'll smoke 77,000 cigarettes. (!!!)

--You'll produce foul gaseous emissions an average of 15 times a day.

--You'll say 123,206,750 words, or about 4,200 words every day.

--You'll produce 39 gallons of vomit.

--You'll use 4,239 rolls of toilet paper, 276 tubes of toothpaste and 198 bottles of shampoo.

--You'll drink 13,801 12-ounce cans of beer.

--You'll make 1,700 friends.

--You'll read 2,455 newspapers.

--You'll have 104,390 dreams.

--You'll get 628 Christmas presents.

--You'll spend $60,521 on new clothes.

--And you'll blink 415 million times.

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The Salesman

This just happened yesterday. It's kinda funny.

My son and I were over at Victory Furniture/Treasures yesterday at the request of my wife to participate in a promotional event for a new line of Tommy Bahama indoor/outdoor furniture. Most of the store's employees were at the main Treasures store, so after having met my wife's manager and his wife and listened to a little live island music we decided to order a pizza and the five of us would eat back at Victory.

After the pizza arrived, I realized I needed something to wash it down with so I asked my wife if she could direct me to the kitchen. She told me my son knew where it was and so asked him to take me over to it. I followed him over to the corner of the store and past a lone salesman sitting at a desk near the kitchen. I acknowledged him and continued to get my water. After about a half a minute in the kitchen, my son was ready to go back to his pizza and he told me he was heading back.

I told him I was right behind him and that it was fine if he was ready to go back and eat. Already about five paces ahead of me, I watched my son begin to walk past the salesman's desk. Then I watched my son stop and heard the salesman say to my son ( he's only nine),

"Hi, did you have a question?"

My son, not anticipating any response from the man sort of froze with a perplexed look on his face.

As I approached from behind, I said,

"Yeah..."

"What's four times six, divided by three?"

It was then the salesman's turn to freeze with a distinct rattled look on his face.

Of course, my comment was in jest but I think he thought I was serious.

Maybe he thought I was just being an over-protective dad but I was simply cracking wise as if to speak for my son.

Anyway, when my son and I got back to the Victory side of the store, my wife and her manager told me the guy is a bit of a head case.

Or maybe he just didn't know the answer.

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Your eyes can deceive you

Here is a cool optical illusion:

Are tiles A and B the same color?



Yes they are: Go here for proof!

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Perspective in Art

One my favorite M.C. Escher drawings:



To see more of his work go here

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Thank you

Thank you for the invitation. Are there restrictions to this site?

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For my son

The Brush

Young, beautiful boy
See through my eyes and prepare your journey.

Take my hand so that I may help you begin to
live and love in the vibrancy of your transcendent soul.

Take this brush and together we will begin to paint on the
canvas of your life.

Hand in hand I will guide your brush but not direct.

When I let slip my grasp you will know you are the artist
of your life's design.

You will live the life you choose but you will never be alone
in doing so.

I will be there within you and without.

You are the distinct and profound expression of the love in my life
and all those who have come before us.

So, hold on high that which brought you to me and will forever be
a part of who you are.

As you are the only true answer to why I ever was.

On some special day you will become the shepherd of another soul.

Bring forward that which we have learned together and apart,
and start anew.

With a gentle hand, display the artistry of your life and endow
the next with all that you are and could ever be.

And as the painting of your life matures and you turn to face the
result of your creation, look for me watching you.

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Winefest in Germany

Here's a little story about an event in my life you might find humorous. It was for me anyway, at least in retrospect.

During the fall of 1985, I was stationed at Ramstein Air Base near Landstuhl, Germany fulfilling a 24-month overseas commitment for the United States Air Force. It was a great time in my life and there was never a shortage of local events to check out or guys with whom to pal around during off-duty hours.

One such event was an annual autumn wine fest in a small town named Bad Durkheim about 40 miles from the base. The town was well known for its Neu (New) wine and people came from all over the country to attend the event. You could think of it as a mini Oktoberfest.

Now, the easiest way to get there was by train so I and a group of about dozen others decided that this would be the best way to make the journey as we wouldn't have to worry about designated drivers and such on the way back. We all boarded the train around 10:00 AM. It was a slightly overcast Saturday morning. Being September, the brief respite of summer was subsiding and the weather was cooling by the day. Still, I dressed fairly lightly in denim jeans, sneakers, Izod Lacoste shirt, and an Adidas jacket.

I had heard many things about the fair during the few weeks running up to the event so while the train shuttled us to our destination, I was anticipating a fun and relaxing day, tasting the wines and taking in the scene. Our train smoothly click-clacked along the rails and its tall windows made countryside viewing spectacular. One car of the train was a dedicated "bar" car so, as you can imagine it was easy to "get in the spirit of things" before actually arriving. With a few interim stops along the way to pick up more passengers it was about a 2 hour ride. So with the majority of my time spent in the bar car on the way up, I guess you could say I had "arrived" a good half hour before the we actually disembarked the train.

After the train ride, our group trekked its way about a quarter mile to the gates of the fair. Once inside, it looked much like any other fair you might see in America with people buzzing about to and fro, slipping shoulders to avoid collisions with each other, ride machinery creaking and groaning as the machines cycled through their evolutions and the general cacophony of screaming ride patrons and a thousand conversations taking place simultaneously.

Spinning and whirling lights and the funky sounds of buzzers, bells, whistles, polka music and neo-disco rhythms added to the sensory overload. It was a lively joint you might say. There was also an additional element which distinguished itself from most American fairs and that was the presence of at least a dozen over-sized tents, each containing 30 or 40 benches, where hundreds of people were thus seated and consuming new wine by the quart. Not a typical American scene.

It was about 1:00 pm and after a few rotations around the fairgrounds taking in a few rides and games, it was time to eat and taste the wine for which the fair was so famous. Each tent was sponsored by a specific region of wine so it made sense (at least at the time) to sample as many of the native wines as we could. Hey, the samples were free so what did one have to lose?

Now I should say that by sample I do not mean to take a bottle cap's volume of wine, swoosh it around in one's mouth, make a funny face, gargle and rinse.A "sample" was served in a glass of about a 24-ounce volume capacity and to take less from the local grower, well, that would be just considered rude. None of us wanted to be an "Ugly American" therefore we made sure that we each consumed the sample under the watchful eye of the wine's sponsor.

Smiles, smiles, smiles. Had to represent. This was not the place for tea totaling. After each sample consumed, it was time to visit yet another tent and start the process again. This went on for several more hours.

It was about 5:00 pm. By this time, our group had dissembled into three distinct units, each occasionally seeing another as we all wondered to and from the wine tents. As you could guess by now, I was not feeling too much pain. In fact, I 'm not sure I was feeling anything at all. I was still walking though but by this time it was more a function of my autonomic nervous system than a matter of will. Wine-filled I began the inevitable process of heading back in forth to the public restrooms when my body so compelled me. This regimen became pretty regular and between this duty and the less restrained flirtations with the local young ladies milling about, I became more and more detached from the group with whom I had spent the bulk of the afternoon and early evening.

It was getting close to 7:30 pm when I realized that I should probably start thinking about finding a few of my associates and try to get the group coordinated to meet back at the train. I made one more trip to the men's room and on the way, looking down, noticed once shoelace untied. Bending over, I securely tied down the wayward lace and stood up. Once up right, the world began to slowly follow. The delay caused by equilibrium to fail. I lurched sideways and then back again and then quickly copped a single knee to the ground to steady myself. As I looked around and struggled with an intense bout of vertigo, I could no longer maintain my focus on anything buzzing around me. I slowly stood and with much effort made it back to a wine-tent and sat down to compose myself.

Within a few minutes I found myself in conversation with a couple of girls who seemed interested in whatever I was blithering on about at the time. I looked down at my watch.

Crap!!!

It was 9:15 pm and the train was leaving in ten minutes.

I had to find my buddies.

I politely but quickly excused myself and headed out of the tent to find them. Still reeling, I struggled to focus on the faces of people walking by me.

All strangers. Not a single familiar face.

Not even one I had seen before during the entire day. Continuing to circle the fair, I looked at my watch again.

9:22 pm.

Jeez!!!

"Ok. Decision time."

Do I continue this fruitless search or start heading back to the train station?

"No choice, I've got to get out of this park."

"OK. Steady yourself."

"Where's the exit?"

"Hmmm. Let's see. Oh. There's a gateway! People are congregating there."

So, I headed in the general direction of the herd. As I moved with the flow of humanity, I again looked at my watch.

9:25 pm.

"Oh man! This can't be happening. Maybe they’ll delay for a few minutes. I’ve got to get to the station. I know they'll be there."

I kept moving with the mass of people and suddenly as though a tornado had lifted from the Earth on its way to dissipation I was standing virtually alone, outside of the park. I hadn't noticed that the crowd had filtered off in various ways in a direction tangential to mine. I had followed another group that dispersed itself in parking lot almost immediately upon exiting the gate of the fair.

With automobiles now whizzing by me and standing alone, the realization resolved itself clearly.

I muttered, "They left me!"

At this point, I had no idea where the train station was or how to get there. I knew it was close but I had no clue as to the general direction I should head. Standing in the middle of a parking lot I doubted anyone would be interested in knowing where the train station was. Still, I asked a few people walking by and each shrugged and indicated either they did not know where the station was or they did not understand what the hell I was saying.

In fact, I'm quite sure that what in my mind sounded like, "Pardon me sir. Do you know where the train stations is?" probably sounded more like, "Traaassiinnthstatiooonnn, wherethhhh ithhsseeettttt?".

That's the thing about alcohol. When you drink to excess, you're mind is usually working fine and clear as a bell, albeit a bit emotional. The body (including the mouth), however, is anything but working fine. Anyway, I'm sure I frightened a few folks with my grunts and slurred expressions as I made little progress in resolving how to get back to the train station.

At this point, it was time to make another decision. I could head back to the gate, in hopes of contacting a familiar American who might take pity on me and bring me back to the base or at least the train station or head out and find it myself.

I decided on the latter.

Now, before going any further, it should be known that I was now down to my last few Marks having spent most of it on playing games and an occasional beer between wine samples. Taking a cab back to base was now financially out of the picture and besides, somebody in my group was already holding all of our tickets for the train and, of course, that included mine.

My rationale at that moment was that that one member of our group could have volunteered to stay behind and wait for me to show up at the station since my ticket would have been in hand by someone.

Looking back, however, I failed to realize that each of those lucky ticket holders was probably in about the same shape as I and completely clueless that one member of the group could have been missing at all.

Despite this fact, I decided to saunter on and try to find the station. I continued my walk. Before long I had left the lights and sounds of the fair far behind. I was alone, walking the streets of a silent German township, three sheets to the wind, and becoming less concerned with finding the train station than finding a single living soul on one of this small town's empty and shuttered streets.

Finally, I came to what appeared to be small restaurant. The lights were on and the door was slightly ajar. I could here a few voices chattering away so I walked up the short flight of steps leading into the foyer and peaked inside.

"Halo." I said.

"Halo?" another voice returned.

"Uhhhmmm. Phone?" I spoke again.

I man came to the door with a puzzled but friendly look on his face.

"Phone?" he said.

”Yah, Phone." I said.

He allowed me in and offered me to sit down at one of the tables. After I was seated he retreated into the back somewhere. There were a few people at other tables having a casual conversation over a few drinks and trying not to look too obvious in observing me. I was trying to keep a low profile but I'm quite sure they knew I was an American serviceman. Given the Adidas jacket, denim jeans and Nike athletic shoes I was wearing it was probably pretty obvious, notwithstanding my severely limited utterances.


Less than a minute later, the man who had sat me down returned. He said something but I did not understand what he was trying to communicate so I made the dialing motion with my hand and I think at that moment he understood that I was not there as a patron of his establishment. With a look of comprehension finally on his face, he walked over to the door and motioned for me to follow. I did so and stepping onto the sidewalk outside, he pointed to a pole-mounted public-phone about 25 yards down the street.

Now, at this point, I kind of figured that this guy knows I'm not going to drop a Mark in his restaurant and probably wants to get me out of there as soon as possible and with out much commotion. I reached into my pants pocket and pulled out the remainder of my stash, about 3 Marks.

"Phone", I uttered, hoping against hope that he would let me use his phone.

Again he pointed down the street.

"OK. Danke. Bye-bye"

"Bye-bye" he returned.

I walked out of the establishment and down to the phone.

Feeling quite annoyed by this time and frustrated that I could not "exactly" communicate my intentions to the restaurant owner, I angrily picked up the phone and dialed the base central office, which being a 24 hour operation, was guaranteed to have a guy on duty. The phone rang a few times and, as I had expected, was answered.

"1964th command group, central telephone office, may I help you?"

I immediately recognized the voice but in this telling I could not remember the young man's name. He was, however, a fairly green airman and had been with the group for only a couple of months.

"Hey!!!! This is Apollo!!!!!!"

"Oh... Hi Apollo, How's it going? What's up?"

'They left me!!!!!!"

"Theeyyyy left meeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!"

"What?"

"Those bastards got on the train without me. I need one of guys to get in your friggen car and come pick me up!"

"Ok, Ok, , calm down Apollo - take it easy. We can definitely do that. Just relax. Le me get a pen"

'Fine..." I muttered.

About half a minute later, the airman returned back to the phone. During that time, I had noted the street name from a sign not too far away from where I was standing and also the address of the building in front of which the phone was mounted.

"Hi, Apollo. OK. We'll come and get you. Give me the address..."

That would be the last I heard from the central office that evening as a half second after the word "address" had trailed off his lips, over the wire and into my ear, the phone clicked and I was listening to the monotonous drone of German dial tone.

"Hello!!!???"

"Hello!!!!!!" I screamed.

"Oh my God!!!!! I don't believe it!!!

Then like the first proto-human climbing out of the forest primeval and howling at the moon having had never seen before, I went into a rage. Cursing everything around me, I yelled at the top of my lungs and into the cooling night sky. I was exhausted. It was past midnight. I had been walking around this town for over 2 hours. Finally, I came to the realization that I was just not going to be rescued from the current situation. Time to buck up and show what you’re made of”, I thought to myself. I decided, “The hell with it. I'll just walk back.”

Ok. So I decided to walk back to Ramstein AB. I still didn't know which way to go so I simple chose one. I continued walking along this long quiet street. The buildings were thinning out by now and my surroundings were becoming a bit more rural. I followed another street down for a while and came to what appeared to be a main road on the outskirts of the town. As I approached the road I could see there was a sign post with at least 8 directional arrows, 4 pointing one-way, 4 the other. “This is good.” I thought to myself as I approached the signpost. “Surely, Ramstein, Landstuhl, Kaiserslautern, SaarBrucken, or some other familiar town would be displayed on the sign.”

As I approached the Tee intersection and could resolve the names, I did not recognize a single one. Now I was livid. At this rate, I figured, by dawn I was either going to be back at base or somewhere in East Germany. I sat down for a while and contemplated my next move.

”Ok. This is stupid." I thought to myself.

"Don't panic. That won't help."

"Got to work the problem..."

By now, some (not all) of my alcoholic stupor had been shorn off with the haphazard early morning, sightseeing tour I had been on.

I chose to re-trace my steps and head back to the fair. My reasoning was simple, I remembered, finally, that the train station was less than a quarter mile from the fairground. I knew that if I made back to that location, I could probably locate the train station.

So thus, I began my long walk back.

An hour or so had passed and I was making pretty good time heading back along the streets on which I had earlier traveled. There was a slight drizzle but nothing too uncomfortable for an early morning stroll such as my own. I wasn't thinking about too much, just sort of zoned out as I closely watched my feet hitting the sidewalk before me. Then, the drizzle faded and it began to rain in earnest.

I quickened my pace a bit.

Now, it began to rain heavier and as I briskly traced my steps, I began to realize that something was wrong. I was getting wetter than I should have been. In fact, I was getting drenched and it was not more than a few seconds when I realized why I was getting so thoroughly pounded by the rain.

My Adidas jacket was gone.

Long gone.

To this day, I have no idea what happened to that jacket. I probably fell but I do not remember this at all. All I know is that I didn’t have a jacket on. This fact only added to my total and utter incomprehension of why this was even happening to me. In fact, I did not even break my stride. I simply grunted and continued my power walk back.

Another 30 minutes had elapsed and the rain was steadily falling. I decided to pick up the pace a bit again. In fact, I decided to jog back.

So, I started to jog.

I jogged for at least 20 minutes before I realized something again was quite wrong.

As I jogged, I began to notice certain landmarks I had passed earlier. This buoyed my spirit and I felt a second wind pick me up as I continued my journey back. I began to see automobiles and the cityscape coming into view was, now, no longer an isolated township but that of a mid-sized city with traffic going to and fro. Cars began to drive by me in each direction. As I jogged into the city center, the rain had morphed into a downpour. While jogging into the city, I realized that the smooth cadence of my stride had become somewhat stilted and staccato. I didn't even think to look down but I knew something was wrong. I continued my fearless penetration into the city center and finally having jogged far enough, slowed down to catch my breath a bit. As my jog slid back into a brisk walk, it became all too obvious what was wrong.

I looked down at my feet and saw something there quite odd.

Turns out, I had lost one of my brand new Nike tennis shoes, somewhere along the journey. It was the right shoe and it was missing.

In fact, I had to stop.

I looked down at my right foot and it appeared that my sock was gone as well. I lifted the hem of my right trouser leg to observer the oddity.

As my foot came into view, it was obvious that part of the sock has survived the journey. Still attached to my foot, there was not much left of the sock, save the elastic band around my right ankle.

There was, however, a single flap of sock material pasted nicely over the top of foot in what could best be described as, now, a spat.

About the time I realized I was missing much of my wardrobe, I noticed cars driving by me with faces pasted to the windows. I guess by this time, I was pretty much a mess. It was about 2:30 AM, I was soaking wet, I had no jacket, no right shoe, and only had half of a right sock.

But guess what?

I jogged right into the train station where there were dozens of people still waiting for the next train.

Ok. Yeah… I looked like crap and I was broke. However, I had surmounted all odds and made it back.

There was still one thing left going for me after all my travails that evening.

Pity.

And believe me, I worked it. I wandered up to a small lineup at the ticket counter. Recognizing a serviceman, I asked him if he would be so kind as to buy me ticket since I was basically stranded if not ditched.

Taking pity on me (of course), he assented to my request and bought me a ticket.

He and I went over to a bench, sat down and had a nice conversation for a few minutes and the train arrival was announced. We both took our seats on the train and waited for the departure.

As we waited, I noticed a train engineer walking down the aisle checking tickest from each of the passengers. As he reached me, I handed him my ticket. He punched the ticket with the small hole-punch he was carrying and turned to face the serviceman who had just purchased it for me.

This poor guy didn't even see it coming.

The engineer asked him for the ticket.

He responded, "I bought two tickets, isn't that ticket (the one I was holding) for two?"

"Noooo, it only for one." the engineer responded.

Now at this moment, if I had been Matthew Broderick playing Ferris Bueler, it would have been the perfect moment to look directly into the camera and smirk.

Fortunately, the engineer allowed the guy to purchase the ticket on the spot and he was out of the jam.

After the ordeal I had just been through, I'm not really sure if I would have been so magnanimous as to admit he had purchased the ticket for me. Hey, who knows? The money probably went into the engineer's pocket anyway.

By this time, I was too tired to care.

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Pop! - A children's story

Sammy was born by the hand of small child.
A thousand siblings joined his quest as he flew into the beautiful sky above he and his creator.
Sammy turned to view the tot as he climbed higher and higher.
"Good-bye", the child said. "I will miss you."
Sammy smiled and rose again.

As the child shrank from his view, Sammy swirled around and around.
Rising through a thousand friendly rainbows, Sammy laughed and darted, dove and danced.
The clouds above looked down upon him and with billowing grins, winked their approval.

Higher again he rose until he left his siblings far below.
Passing through tumbleweed clouds of cotton, Sammy soared and soaked in the sun.
A tradewind beckoned and Sammy grabbed hold.
Faster and higher he went, rolling and rocking and surfing the wind.

With the Earth far below and the Moon still above, the Aurora took Sammy into her heart.
Shining brilliant Sammy sparkled like fire and was warmed by her embrace.
Again he was lifted until the blue sky fell away and day turned to night.

Sammy looked above, a universe of stars came into view.
Shining their beams through him the stars pulled Sammy higher.
As the Aurora bid him farewell, Sammy turned to face a great light.

The light immersed him and he felt himself float.
All of the Earth below was in view, spinning so slowly as to hardly move.
Sammy looked up to face the light around him.

Finally Sammy thus spoke,
"Why am I here O' beautiful light"

"Because you are home having made it so far."
"Is my life over?" Sammy inquired.

"Your life will have no end as it has had no beginning. You are the reflection of what your life is."

"What is that?" Sammy again asked.

"Perfection. You are and always will be the symbol of perfection in the world below us and the universe around us."

"I understand now.", Sammy returned. "Can you take me higher?"

"Yes"

And within the blink of an eye, Sammy the soap bubble went - Pop!

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For my wife

Center Me My Love

Center me my love and hold tight my hand.
Lead me not away from this foot worn path,
Where the world about us offers scant repose.
From the lost souls among us where never angel rose..

We could not recede in breathless fury,

Nor conspire against a sea of ghosts.
Tread straight and true and forward through
Ageless truths renew.

For glory bound steps do unsteady
Lives vanished in bounties imagine made.
Treasures made need not be found.
Afoot they are, on familiar ground.

As legends told, a rib removed from life was drawn.
These stories etched in sandstone cliffs.
Yet yours is the strength of the divine
And fortune smiles as yours is mine.

Let us count not the days ahead
As truths avail in silent breaths exchanged.
On timeless shores we shall dwell
Beneath the stars from which we fell.

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Unbreakable Things

The Bond

As you well know by now
Your father is not a super hero.

Nor is he the best in the world at anything he does.
Nor is he the
smartest,
strongest,
or most courageous
man who ever walked the Earth.

But still he is your father and he will always be your father.

And here is the thing...

If, indeed a super hero were among us,
In all his superhuman power,
He could never break the bond of love for
You that your father has.

Nor could the smartest man in the world,

In his seemingly infinite wisdom, conspire and
Devise a method by which to unravel this bond.

Nor could the strongest man, in all his sinewy glory and
His muscular convulsing find a way to
Smash and destroy this bond.

Nor could the most courageous man in the world in all his perserverance
And brave resolve, against all odds, find a way
To surmount or overcome this bond.

Each would, in turn, discover a simple truth.
That this bond is immutable and eternal.
And not even your father, himself, could alter this bond.

So remember this...

When the superhero has vanquished a thousand foes,
And the strongest has lifted the Earth upon his shoulders,
And the smartest has unraveled the mysteries of the ages,
And the most courageous has subdued the greatest of all fears.

This bond will remain.

And your father will still love you.

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Bye Sanjayo!

Sung to the Hank William's tune Jambalaya.
Sing it like John Fogerty though...

Idol show, me gotta go, me oh my oh
Me gotta go plug the ear hole, Oh Sanjayo!
My ear-drum!, It gone numb, me oh my oh
Son of a gun, we've had our fun. Bye Sanjayo!

(Chorus)
Tone deaf guy, he's playing shy but he ain't dumb though
'Cause tonight he'll get the kid vote by the ton-o.
Drop the bar, drop it far, then we pray-o
Son of a gun, we've had our fun. Bye Sanjayo!

Sing it slow, or up-tempo, you've sung a dozen
Milked it good, in the hood so tell your cousin.
You'll be rich in your niche, It's your day-o
Son of a gun, we've had our fun. Bye Sanjayo!

(Chorus)
Tone deaf guy, he's playing shy but he ain't dumb though
'Cause tonight he'll get the kid vote by the ton-o.
Drop the bar, drop it far, then we pray-o
Son of a gun, we've had our fun. Bye Sanjayo!

Toast of the town, our little clown,. We'll read your bio.
'Bout how you made lemonade from lemonayo.
You sung so lame in this silly game, like a wounded rhino.
Son of a gun, we've had our fun. Bye Sanjayo!

(Chorus)
Tone deaf guy, he's playing shy but he ain't dumb though
'Cause tonight he'll get the kid vote by the ton-o.
Drop the bar, drop it far, then we pray-o
Son of a gun, we've had our fun. Bye Sanjayo!

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Play of the game

Center Fielder

Dusting of his cap and leaping to the voice of his coach
Out into the April sun, he charges the field.
The wind echoing in his ear as he picks up speed
The scent of freshly mown grass invades his senses.

Stopping at his position, he bends and yanks a swath.
Grinding the blades between his fingers he takes a deep breath.
The crowd settles in their seats as the umpire signals
Glove on he waits for whatever his opponent can muster.

Honoring his coach and team with steely eyes he focuses.
The pitcher sets and for a moment time stops.
And then the windup begins.
>Listening to the chorus of the crowd he watches the delivery.
The pitch, the swing...

Crack!!!

The ball bursts through the infield like a comet.
The crowd roars and eighty thousand eyes focus on his next move.
All his muscles tense as he gauges the white streak.
A calculation in a millisecond and the sprint begins.
His destiny approaches fast.

Too fast, too low, no fly catch here.
Its a hard single, probably a double but not if he can help it..
Track, track, track...It's going to drop, hold back, wait, wait, wait...

Now!!!

Already ahead of the ball as it explodes off the grass
Leaving a small cloud of dirt marking its impact.
He imagines the next three seconds.
The ball's whirling red stitches like an archer’s target loom quickly.
But his stride is unbroken and his position is perfect.

The runner rounds first...

Like a final chess strike, the players line up to meet their fate.
Short stop to shallow left center. Left center behind to insure the play.
Second base is calling; the pitcher is halfway there.
Don't think… React! Make it count!

Slap!

The ball freezes in the bare palm of his throwing hand.
But only for an instant as he shifts his weight to launch.
He rears his forward leg, drawing the ball far behind him
And like a tightly coiled spring releases his energy in a furious instant.

In a spasm of muscular ballet, the ball rockets from his hand.
Upward and to the left of second, a wayward throw?
Not today as the ball breaks down and back as he had foreseen.
A parabola of perfection, on the fly, lands squarely into an anxious glove.
A desperate slide, a ginger hop, and a fluid left arm sweep.

Your Out!!!

One battle won in a nine-inning war.
So it’s back to the trenches on a beautiful day.

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For the Musician

The Sea of Music

A simple movement of air across the room
And my breath draws shallow.
Jostling tides of the acoustic ebb and flow.
The world around me quietly falls away.

I hear, but more so I feel
Wading into the gentle shoals of the harmonic.
I am lifted and glide footless over the layered sands
Of countless notes that have never left me.

On this ocean where blind men see
And words need not be spoken.
I drift among the waves of endless hearts
Through crest and trough, a resonance beats

Over the sky, the sun and moon embrace
And it is not day or night but eternal dawn
The dawn of creation for the inspired soul
Who's melody moves me over the horizon.

Dwelling in this mystic sea I retreat to my thoughts
Where a thousand tunes and lyrics lay.
I close my eyes for a moment and dream within a dream
And thank the artist to whom I owe so much.

For it is only in the reflection of this water
You can truly know how you have stirred my soul.
And opened my heart to share with others
The wondrous gifts you have brought to our world.

So thank you and never stop setting sail
On uncharted waters where fortunes rise and fall
And know I am with you as you track the stars
In music's quest, where timeless chords avail.

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