Do not mock me

Take comfort in the secrets others share with you. You will never know the effort it took someone to bring to the surface a secret and give it to your safe keeping. Some secrets need to be shared. If someone is sharing with you, it means they trust you to nurture and care for something as they would themselves. To protect it as they would themselves. Or perhaps better than they did. The silver lining in trust is the ability to give those things you couldn't bear to give to anyone else. To betray that is to cast that person away. Comfort is your truth when you are told a secret.

Along comes a spider

How much do we really need? We live in a world of excess and consumerism. We might even be proud of it. We compete with the Joneses and we eat 'til we are grossly obese. Our drinks are supersized, our debt is even bigger. We live in a world of instant gratification. Instant news, instant humor, instant humiliation (you tube anyone?). Our Coke comes in Classic, Caffeine Free, Cherry, Vanilla, Diet and Zero. Did I miss any? Probably. Who can keep track?

I look around at all I have and I wonder is it enough? Standard philosophy says, "Not by a longshot." I'm starting to remember simpler times though. Times when the 12 inch TV was B&W and if I was lucky, I could hear all the dialog despite a rolling picture that sometimes fuzzed out. White noise was the rule, not the exception. Air conditioning was a treat not a requirement. Summer heat was the time to really play. Winter snows were a time to rejoice for the clean white powder all around. The freshness in the bitter cold of winter.

It's obvious I struggle with the day to day of how much do I need. I've never read Walden, but I think everyone is familiar with the basic tenants of the the book. The idea is to live simply, to be happy, to use what you need, no more. But, I need, I need, I need. Or do i want, want, want? I hear people complain about the price of gas, but turn around and buy a bottle of water that costs about $7 a gallon. Most of it is tap water to boot. Get your greedy fat fingers over to the sink and turn on the spigot. Drink 'til you are full. Then smile because the water is cleaner than any other country in the world.

Star phucker

We all dream of being a star. Not the bright shiny thing in the night sky, but rather the one of legend on the front pages of Enquirer or whatever passes for that rag these days. We want glory, lights, cameras, excitement that equal the stature a man feels when he takes those little blue pills that bring on the concert of "Don't Bring me Down" by ELO. By god, we want it big, we want it loud and we want it to last forever.

Don't try to imagine I'm not talking about you. You sing it loud and proud in the car when no-when can hear you. You are center stage baby in a pageant only a mother could love. The amps are cranked and the photographers are fighting for the position to get the one shot of you in the high beams. When the villain in the movie finally gets his cuppenance, it's you that delivers the fatal blow. When the judge delivers the verdict for the plaintiff, you are the American barrister that deftly slid the needle into the prosecutions' balloon.

You are the downtrodden singer in "Turn the Page" albeit a little more edgy with the Metallica version. You know you are the star, yet the world seems to be against you at every turn. No matter how hard you try you can't please everyone all the time. When the news flashes about a hero that saved lives you imagine that you were would do the same no matter what. There is always more glamour in the story than the footage though and you scoff at the praise being heaped on said hero. You could do better. More with less effort. Bigger, bolder and with greater ecstasy.

Mick Jagger with bigger lips and more sass. You'd rock 'em, country boy. Yes, you'd rock them. "Start Me Up. You make a grown man cry." Even the song starts with more promise than it delivers. Yeah, it's a hot little jam, but it's not changing the world. You skirt the edge of Imagine. You could never encompass the vision of Lennon, so you wouldn't even think to try. The notes drift off to quiet silence as you contemplate doing something more with your life. If only it wasn't so damn hard. "You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one."

So, it begins

I've been mostly silent here for a long time. Life has intruded, but I'm trying to get back to basics like walking to the store, blogging, eating regularly and better. You know. They usual stuff. The kind of thing many people try to force starting Jan. 2 every year. I'm not forcing anything, but rather taking things I like and trying to promulgate them throughout my life.

I started riding again. 2nd ride of the year. 2nd ride since my accident last Aug. I miss my bike, I miss the repetitive motion that makes me move. The personal challenge to pick my feet up just a little faster through this section. To push that little extra to be stronger. Sweat dripping down my neck from the effort. The cool down period when the ride is over. The sun warm on my face.

I realized today on a drive that I really live in a beautiful place. Not my complex per se, but the area I live. Lush green trees, fairly well maintained, clean. It's pleasant. There isn't graffiti everywhere your eye turns. Building never get that run down that the local gangs (yes, we have them just like everyone else) don't even try. I've been trying harder lately to be nice to people I see and cashiers that ring up my sales. Not sure why. Perhaps I'm just Karma loading. Like carb loading for athletes, but building up good will for those moments I snap and say the wrong thing at the wrong time.

Drop the chalupa

Food prices in America are skyrocketing. Well, so is the price of everything else but I'm not sure people are noticing. Some claim it's all George's fault for forcing ethanol (made from corn if you've been living in a cave for the last 30 years) on american consumers. Salvation through corn? Freedom from Middle Eastern oil? Doubtful. However, I must say it's a good excuse to eat more potatoes and shun the corn growers of America. I recall in the 80's we held corn over Russia's head. We won't feed you unless you do what we want.

So, potatoes. Makes good lefse, vodka, french fries (which is good for the lose weight now industry) and potato chips. So, let's hear it for Me. Potato. Let's turn Idaho into the richest state in the union. We always knew Idaho was good for something besides harboring White Supremists. Eat more 'taters people. Let's not forget the lowly tater tot in our equation either.

Pretty soon, the price of gas will be too high to drive our children to school and GASP, the lil' basterts will have to walk just like we did. Did I just say that? Our little fat children in America doing something physical? Yep. Teen heart attacks will skyrocket for a short while, but trust me. This is the true path to America's Salvation. Now, if we could just do something about our educational system.